Page 2 of Naughty Elf: Merry
“What’s that?’
“Yuck!”
“It’s celery!” the last one shrieked.
Shrieking was good! I clapped and laughed and shouted, “Oh no! I tricked you.”
Santa #1 was wandering toward me, and he glanced up at the commotion.
“You should have seen that coming.” He guffawed and slapped his leg. “Good one, Merry.” After giving me a thumbs up, he toddled into his office.
Huh? He was supposed to say what a bad bad elf I was.
“Are you going somewhere, Merry?” Nym asked, jerking his head at my bag.
“No.” I sighed. “Dirty laundry.”
I crossed celery candy canes off my list.
Over the next few weeks I painted the reindeers’ hooves with nail polish, switched the elves’ shoes with the gnomes’, soeveryone was wearing the wrong size, I replaced hot cocoa with marshmallow fluff so all the Santas had very sticky beards.
Christmas Village was in an uproar, but instead of being angry and hauling me into his office, Santa #1 said I should win a prize for being the most innovative elf with the best pranks.
Finally after swapping the reindeers’ harnesses with kites, I got word; I was wanted in Santa #1’s office.
This was it. Today I was going to meet my mate. I tugged my hat so it sat at an angle and heaved my bag over the other shoulder.
“Merry.” Santa’s stern expression and gruff voice would have had me quaking in my perfectly fitted elf shoes if I didn’t know what lay ahead.
“I’m ready, Santa. I know I’ve been bad!” I closed my eyes, waiting to be hurled through space and perhaps time.
“Huh?”
Chapter 2
Hernan
I was in a rut, which, when you make your living being creative, is not good.
My busy season was rapidly barrelling toward me, and I didn’t have nearly enough projects. The Christmas Festival was the largest event of the year for me, sales wise. It could make or break my profits for the year.
What I did have ready to go were basically plain old mugs. Sure, people liked a good pottery mug—of course they did—but it was Christmas time, and seasonal items were the key to success. They could grab everyday items anywhere, so why would they choose the Christmas festival for that?
I knew what I needed to do, the problem was making it happen. In all my years since discovering pottery and ceramics, this was the first time I’d been so uninspired, and I hated it. So did my dragon, the reason I got into this in the first place.
Having a kiln to run gave him purpose, and when that purpose was dwindling in frequency, he took it personally. He didn’t understand why I didn’t simply “make more.” And the time Itried to run the kiln empty to give him purpose, he took it as the insult that it was.
It sucked, but I wasn’t into Christmas this year. It wasn’t that I hated it; it was more that I was apathetic about it. My Christmas spirit had pretty much been extinguished, and not for any reason I could put my finger on. I hadn’t even considered taking a single ornament out of storage or planned what I would do for the big day.
Maybe I needed to go for more flights. Maybe that was the issue, I was containing my beast too much. Whatever the case was, I needed inspiration—and I needed it fast. It was either that or looking at accepting some of those bulk orders at discount prices that flooded my inbox. And as uninspired as I was for all things holiday, taking on clients like that would be soul sucking and fire extinguishing.
I grabbed my keys and hopped into the car, driving a few villages away to a street lined with junk stores. Technically, they were all labeled antique stores, but the antiques were far and few in them. They were mostly second-hand stores that had a lot of vintage items, which worked for me. They were one of my favorite places to get lost in and always held inspiration galore.
It was weird that they were all smushed here, and I wasn’t sure why this particular stretch had become the catch-all for shops like that. It was handy, though. When I wanted to find something vintage or unique—or, in this case, inspiration—it was all here in one spot. And as a bonus, there was a fabulous coffee house across the street with the best paninis in the state.
I walked through the first store, not finding much of anything. For some reason, it was filled with more car-related merchandise than anything else. Last time, it had been mostlybooks. I didn’t know if they switched owners or what, but I didn’t stay there long. Christmas Faire people weren’t looking for cars, they wanted holiday joy.
I had similar luck in finding inspiration in the next couple of stores. It wasn’t until I was at the end of the block that I finally hit the one—the one that would have what I needed. Even before I went inside, I knew it was exactly the place I needed to be, the window display a recreation of Santa’s Village using 1950’s Christmas decor.