3. Arnold Learns of His Mission, and Begins to Catch On to All the Abbreviations
"Santa's gone."
Let's take a moment, shall we, to register the impact of these two little words on our young hero.
It was big.
Think about it. This is a boy, who, for approximately the first decade of his life, believed wholeheartedly in Santa Claus, in elves and reindeer and the North Pole and the whole nine yards. Even when Arnold had grown to the age where he no longer believed in the actuality of Santa Claus, he still had a lot of faith in the spirit of Santa Claus. Now that an elf had appeared in his kitchen, clearly the whole Santa myth was no myth at all, but fact. Which meant that Santa was real. And gone.
The gift that had been returned to Arnold was suddenly snatched away again.
He was, among other things, incredulous.
"What?" he asked eloquently, summing up all of his fear, confusion, and sorrow in a monosyllable.
Herman didn't even roll his eyes. Clearly, he was extremely upset. "Santa's gone," he repeated. "Saint Nick. The big guy. He disappeared."
"B-b-but…" Arnold was sputtering now, like a dying candle. "But he's…he's Santa! He can't…he can't just be gone!"
Herman shrugged. "That's what we thought. But he is."
"Well, what happened?"
Herman sighed. "He was doing last-minute checks on the List—you know, final switches from Nice to Naughty, reevaluation of borderline cases—and he likes it to be totally quiet when he works on the List. So he'd holed himself up in his office all day, going through entire gallons of eggnog—which is always how he gets around this time of year. 'Bout five o' clock, we hear this huge crash coming from his office.
"Well, we all rush in to see what's wrong. Everything's fine—List intact, papers all neatly in order—but Santa's chair was knocked over, and the rug was all hitched up—and Santa was gone.
"We searched everywhere—the reindeer stables, the workshop, the entire North Pole—but we couldn't find him anywhere. So we followed Code Blue."
"What's Code Blue?" Arnold asked.
"Simple, really," Herman replied, gnawing on his cigar. "Put Otto the Head Elf in charge and go about business as usual for twenty-four hours."
"And…?" Arnold pressed.
"And he didn't show up," Herman replied. "So we had to go to Code Red."
"Which is…?"
"Call in EB—Easter Bunny to you, Dimbulb—and have Security conduct an investigation. We came up with nothing. So after five days of searching, we had to activate Code Mauve."
Arnold raised an eyebrow. "Code Mauve?"
"Santa always keeps the name of an EMR.—Emergency Miracle Recipient—or two in the security office in case of something like this happening. EMR's are generally more willing to give a hand to the Pole if we need it, and they've got just that tiny bit more of CS—Christmas Spirit—that helps. So they send out the Head of Security—that'd be yours truly—to find the chosen EMR. Of course, we haven't used an EMR in over two decades, but I guess we were about due. And we sure do need Santa back. So will you help us, kid?"
Here Herman paused, removed the cigar from his mouth, and looked up at Arnold with questioning eyes that Arnold could almost see under the heavy brows.
"What?" Arnold cried, startled.
"Will. You. Help. Us?" Herman repeated. "Kid?"
Arnold was dumbfounded. "But…I mean, what could I do on my own? I'm just a kid in college…"
Herman shrugged. "Look, between you and me, I don't really know what good you'll go. But the Big Guy singled you out, so you've gotta be good for something." Arnold tried hard not to feel insulted. "And besides, you won't be alone. We're picking up a few more of your pals along the way."
Arnold didn't think he'd ever had a more confusing conversation. "My pals?"
Herman cleared his throat and reached into his pocket again. "Er…well, for starters, a Mr. Gerald Johanssen…"
"Gerald?"
"That's what I said, Dimbulb. Gerald Johanssen There's more, but we'll start with him."
"But why Gerald?" Arnold asked. "I mean, I haven't even spoken to him in…in years."
Herman looked over his list. "Wasn't he the one who suggested that you were being "looked out for" by a CA?"
"Christmas Angel?" Arnold inquired archly before Herman could clarify.
"You're learning, kid," Herman said approvingly. "Well, wasn't he?"
Arnold nodded. "Yeah, and he helped me do all the shopping for Mr. Bailey, too. He really stuck by me that day." His tone became just the tiniest bit wistful, as he wondered, not for the first time, just what had happened to probably the best friend he'd ever had.
"So can I count you in?" Herman asked.
Arnold didn't take long to consider. After all, what kind of a person was he if he didn't help find Santa Claus, of all people? He grinned.
"I'm in."
"Great!" said Herman, breaking into a truly horrifying smile. "Here ya go." He handed something over to Arnold.
"What's this?" Arnold asked, glancing down at the paper in his hand.
"Bus ticket to New York," Herman replied. "You leave in half an hour."
"But…I thought…don't we use some…I dunno, reindeer or pixie dust or something? I mean…the bus?"
Herman pointed his cigar at Arnold. "Hey, what do I look like to you, a Fairy Godmother? It's a nice bus!"
Arnold backed off. "Alright, alright, I'm just asking…"
Herman stuck his cigar back in his mouth. "Okay, that's that. I'm off to the Pole to see if they've come up with anything new. I'll meet you at Slaussen's in Brooklyn at four tomorrow afternoon. You can sleep on the bus. Here's a travel kit." He handed Arnold something about the size of a lunchbox.
"Well, I'll need to pack…"
"No, you won't. That's got all you need. Trust me. See you tomorrow."
And before Arnold could say another word, Herman was gone. Just like that. Disappeared.
Arnold looked at the ticket in his hand and shrugged, reaching for his jacket. "Well, I guess I'm off to the Bus Depot," he said to no one in particular. Before he left, though, he picked up the phone on the kitchen counter and quickly dialed his home number. The phone rang several times before the machine picked up.
"Uh…Mom? Dad? It's me…uh…see, I have to…I have to go back to Brooklyn for a while. Something's just come up, and someone's in trouble. You wouldn't believe me if I told you, but I really do have to help this person. I'll explain it all to you when you get back. I'll check in with Grandma and Grandpa so that they can confirm that I'm okay, and I'm not on drugs or anything…I love you, and hopefully I'll be home for Christmas. Bye!"
And Arnold picked up his travel kit and ticket, and walked out of the dorm, heading for the bus.
From the files of Saint Nicholas: Arnold (last name smudged), age 7
December 12, 1994
Dear Santa,
This year for Christmas I don't want toys or books or games or anything. I just want my mom and dad back. I know it's a realy big Christmas wish, but I've tryed to be extra specialy good this year and I hope that maybe you could sort of find them in the jungel and bring them to the bording house for me. I think there probly getting tired of the jungel by now and maybe want to come back home, so if you culd please bring them that wuld be a realy good Christmas present. If you can't I understan cause you mite not be abel to find them if no one else can but culd you please try? I don't want anything else. Thank you, and I hope you have a very good Christmas to.
Your freind,
Arnold
P.S. Culd you please if you get the time tell me what kind of cookys are you're faverite so I can put out the kind that you like the best? And do you want skim milk or hole? We have both because Mrs. Cocashca's on a diet and Granma thinks aliems make skim milk.
Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to get this out! But I'm making it up to you…TWO chapters at once! (Yippee!) Anyway, there probably won't be much of Always or TQT for a while, because I want to finish this one before Christmas (although who knows if that'll happen…the way my muse works, I may have TQT finished tomorrow and this one done in time for next Christmas…). You can mosey on over to the (gasp!) R-rated stories to read my latest contribution, Crazy For You (honestly, this "we're not going to automatically display R-rated stories so there" is the most annoying thing in the universe, so I must plug unabashedly. PLUG!).
Snow Lane: I'm trying to get it out before Christmas, I really am, but who knows? We'll see…hey, Cosmic Dreamer started "A Christmas Present for Arnold" like, three years ago, and it's still worth reading… (CD, if you're reading this, FINISH IT!)
January Marlinquin: Cool name! Oh, we'll be meeting the Bunnymeister and the Tooth Fairy (yes, he's a he) at some point. And the madness that I have done/will do with traditional holidays is just…it's crazy. You'll see. Yeah, those poor kids…well, hopefully Arnold will save the day! And you'll just have to wait and see what happened to Santa…
Geko: I've actually never seen Nightmare Before Christmas, and I really want to…
arnoldnhelga4eva: Your mom really took care of Walter Matthau? That's…wow. Does she work at some kind of…I dunno, a celebrity hospital or something? That's so sad, though…he seems like he'd be nice…
Wyltk: Walter Matthau was a very great comedian who died a few years ago…He played Oscar in the Odd Couple movies, and he was in some really great stuff…Hello Dolly, and Plaza Suite, and A Guide for the Married Man, and about a million other things.
I'm glad everyone loves Herman…I love him too! He's so fun! And the answer to the question…HA! I'm not gonna tell yet! Nyah! (Although we seem to have an overwhelming love of pirates here, which is always good…I love 'em too. Even though I love cowboys more.) I'm out for now…-PI