Page 5 of Santa Daddy, I'm Not the One

Why did he leave everything to me if he despised me so much?

After all, he blamed me for ruining his marriage and causing a rift between him and his legitimate family. I was a bastard who should have inherited none of this.

I tossed my keys onto the side table and hung my coat in the closet. Before I could close the door, two bodies sprang out of the closet.

I yelled and jumped back, slamming into the wall at my back. Elves? What kind of prank was this? I had people dressed like elves coming out of the closet, one carrying a large red-and-white bag.

“I told you he was going to scream,” the shorter elf said with a laugh. “You owe me a flake.”

“Oh, man, I’m not betting with you ever again.”

“What the hell’s going on?” I cried. “You need to get out of my house before I call the police. You’re breaking and entering.”

The dark elf with the goatee crossed his arms. “Hi! We’re Pix and Dix, Santa’s helpers, and we’re here to make your dreamscome true. For this Christmas season, you get to visit Twinkle Glen, where Santa lives, and explore his workshop just as you’ve always dreamed.”

I gave a bark of laughter. “You know how I know this isn’t real? There’s no such thing as Santa, and if there was, he doesn’t live in some fictitious place called Twinkle Glen. That would be the North Pole. And get this, I can’t remember a time I’ve dreamed of visiting Santa.”

The other elf’s mouth dropped open. “You don’t believe in Santa?” he asked.

“Of course not. I’m a grown man. Anyone with a lick of sense would know that old man doesn’t exist.”

“Hey, Santa may be over seven hundred years old, but he’s hardly old!” Pix said.

“What are we to do?” Dix asked. “How can he not believe? He’ll never make it in.”

Pix shrugged. “His name came down to us. We have no choice but to bring him with us.”

“You’re not bringing me anywhere!” I said.

“I’m sorry, but you don’t have a choice. This is our Christmas tradition.”

“You can’t—”

Pix flung out his hand, and a white powdery substance flew into my face. I choked and spluttered, my vision blurring for a moment, then settling into a haze. The room swam around me, the familiar surroundings distorting and warping in unnatural ways.

“What…was that?” I coughed, rubbing my eyes frantically.

“Sleigh dust. It’s the magic of Christmas.”

I attempted to steady myself against the wall, but they lunged, and the large velvet sack came over my head. I tried to raise my arms, but they were too heavy. Was I shrinking? The world spun. Darkness enveloped me, and everything became muffled.My feet left the ground, and I was lifted up as if I was swept up in a tornado.

“Sorry for the crude way of handling this,” Pix said, “but you wouldn’t come willingly, and Santa needs you.”

2

NILS

Isat in the bustling heart of my workshop, surrounded by the rhythmic hum of toy-making machinery and the cheerful chatter of elves, but I was distracted. My hands, usually so skilled at assembling toys, fumbled with the tiny parts of a wooden train set.

Setting the toy aside, I climbed to my feet and poured myself a cup of strong black brew. The smoky aroma filled the air, comforting yet doing little to dispel the looming sense of unease. Cup in hand, I ambled over to the window, looking out at the sprawling expanse of the North Pole blanketed in a fresh layer of snow.

Is it my imagination, or does it feel colder than usual?

Outside, the elfin children were playing, their laughter carrying on the wind and making its way into my workshop. They were building a snowman, their rosy cheeks flush with excitement as they added a carrot for its nose and round pebbles for its eyes. Normally, their joy and infectious laughter would put me at ease, but today even their merriment couldn’t lift the fog of uncertainty that hung heavily around me.

There are only so many ways to build a snowman.

Perhaps I should make a trip to the town and take part in the festivities. In the past, I would have gone to every single one, but so far, I’d only been to one.

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