Three

Steve

Sometime during my childhood I’m sure I dreamed of meeting Santa and his elves. I remembered going to see Santa at this very mall when I was very small and having my picture taken with him. I also remember my younger sister screaming bloody murder when Santa even looked her way. It was all so magical, and felt so real to little kid me.

Working as an elf sucked. It had been exactly one hour, and I was so sick of dealing with kids already, I didn’t have any idea how I’d make it until the end of my shift. The other elves seemed nice enough and tried to get me to just enjoy the fact we were the main attraction at the mall, but I couldn’t get the fact that this was now my life, out of my head. Fucking Tech World. I scratched at my head under the stupid elf hat—that had to be made out of the itchiest material known to man—making the stupid bells jingle frantically. One of the other elves glanced at me before crossing his arms and giving me a hard look. I shook it off and walked back over to where they’d told me to help kids get ready for their picture with Santa.

What that basically meant was to stop them from running over and ruining another kids’ picture. After I’d had the standoff with a little kid earlier it was decided I’d be the mean elf that tried to control them all. Which was fine by me, the less I had to interact with them the better, and as long as I kept up the grumpy elf routine, they all avoided me. And so did the other elves.

“Hey, mister, are you really one of Santa’s elves?” a little girl with long dark braids asked as she stood next to her mom who was pushing a stroller with a baby inside.

“Yes, I am, have you been good this year?” I asked and tried to not be quite so much a dick.

“Not really,” she mumbled and looked down at her foot while I stifled my laugh. Maybe kids weren’t so bad after all.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Santa can forgive a little,” I said, making her smile. It was her turn and as soon as the other elf next to Santa called her over, she ran to Santa and started talking to him loud enough so everyone in the immediate area could hear. I glanced at the line and noticed the guy I’d seen earlier. They’d hired me immediately and after changing into my elf outfit I needed a minute away from Santa to calm the fuck down. The small custom journal shop seemed perfect for that. Actually, I just jumped into the emptiest store I came to. He watched as the little girl took her time with Santa. Telling him every detail of what she wanted this year and why she thought she deserved it.

Not once did he look away from her, and I wondered if he knew her or if he was just caught up in the magic of the season. His expression was full of joy and wonder as he finally looked away and at all the decorations around where Santa was seated.

“Time for your break,” another elf, I think his name was Sprinkle, or possibly Twinkle, said and pointed to a door behind Santa’s throne. They didn’t actually call it that, but it was a giant chair with oversized candy canes on both sides of it that had to be at least ten feet tall, giving it the look of a giant throne and that was the only way I could think of it. I glanced one more time at the guy from earlier, before rushing back to the break room.

Since we weren’t supposed to be wandering around the mall in our elf uniforms, food was provided while we were on our shift. A few other elves sat around on a sofa and a couple of chairs chatting quietly while I loaded my plate up before finding a chair off to the side of everyone else.

There were more people working as elves than I expected. But it was so busy it was easy to understand why. Plus, they wanted to keep up the magical appearance and give the illusion of there being many elves. There were elves of all ages, heights, and genders, but everyone wore the same costume.

“You’re new here,” one of the elves said. He was cute, with straight blond hair that stuck out underneath his elf hat that I realized we were both still wearing when mine itched again making me tear it off my head.

“Yeah, today’s my first day. Have you worked here before?” I asked and ignored it when he snickered.

“Yes, this is my second year. It was a lot of fun last year and I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.” He snickered again before taking a bite of his own sandwich.

“Must not be that bad if you came back again.”

He shrugged his shoulder and settled into the chair he sat in before answering. “It’s not bad, but the kids get a little crazy—and some of the parents too. They cry, yell, scream, throw tantrums, throw things , poop, puke, and pee, all in a shift. And the hats always itch.”

My lip curled at the image, and I hoped I never had to experience that. “Sounds—charming,” I said and took another bite to hide my grimace while ignoring the need to itch my head again.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Steve Reynolds,” I said, and he rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean your elf’s name. Mine’s Twinkle,” he said and held his hand under his chin while batting his eye lashes.

“Oh, Tinsel. I think they chose it from my last name.” He gave me a look that said he had no clue what I was talking about. “Reynolds? Like the foil?” I led him through it.

“I still don’t get it, but that’s okay. As long as you like it,” he said and took another bite.

“It could be worse I guess,” I said and went back to my sandwich.

“Yeah, the whole uniform could itch as much as the hats,” he said making us both laugh. “Why’d you take a job here?”

Drawing in a deep breath, I proceeded to tell him all about how I’d worked at the same electronics store for years doing tech support and how the boss had decided he no longer needed me, without any notice. Then I explained how I was very antisocial and hadn’t been to the mall in years.

“So, why take a job wrangling kids if you’re antisocial? It sounds like torture. I mean if you’re into that I’m not one to judge but it seems like a lot to go through if you hate people that much.” He was curious and obviously not afraid to ask the hard questions, and I found I liked that more than someone who judged but never took the time, or had the balls, to ask.

“Well, I just got laid off and came here first. I’m hoping it’ll get me through the holidays, so I have time to find something else. I don’t hate people; I would just rather not work around a lot of them.”

“They’re always hiring,” he said, and pointed at an advertisement for one of the big retail stores nearby. “High turnover rate.” He grinned at that and both of us laughed. It felt so fucking good to laugh, and for a split second I thought maybe I wouldn’t hate this job as much as I imagined I would.