Twelve Months of Kristal: 50 Loving States Maine

I answer her question by pulling her into my arms.

I kiss her as the final warning alarms blare overhead. And I kiss her some more as the elves start counting down.

"10…9….8…7….6…"

By the time they make it to "One!" I'm fairly certain she knows that this time our arrangement won't be for one night…

Or ten days…

Or even twelve days…

Twelve months.

I'll be with Kristal for twelve months. Twelve Months of Kristal.

Then after that….

A lifetime.

And on that promise, we both fade along with the workshop from this plane of existence.

48

River Deep Mountain High

HAYATO

Christmas 2020

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…!”

I startle when Kristal and all the other elves gathered on the workshop's main floor suddenly start counting down. Only a few minutes have passed since we waved Santa off in his huge sleigh filled with presents.

Marian, the human woman Santa married two years ago, sidles up to say, “Scared the bejeezus out of me too the first time they did that. You’d think as much as they love workshop-wide announcements, they’d make one before starting the big countdown.”

“… One!!!” The elves finish the countdown with a huge cheer.

“What exactly are they counting down to?” I ask, shouting to be heard over all the noise.

This isn’t the first time Marian has had to explain some strange elf ritual to me.

She’s the only other human in the workshop, and, like me, she can also see ghosts. Her talent is a lot more temporally disconnected than mine though. Ghosts from the past, present, and future commune with her in both the North Pole and the real world—or as the elves refer to it, the third dimension.

But other than that, I was surprised to find that I had more in common with the little old African-American woman from Virginia than any of the ever cheerful and extraordinarily industrious elves.

Marian likes to fuss over me. She makes me lunch every day. And she turned the library into a personal office for me when Santa started giving me odd higher-level administrative jobs so that I would have something to do all day. Santa said he had a to-do list even longer than the naughty one before I came, so he was glad for the help. But I suspect Marian told him I was bored.

In any case, the work is pretty interesting. As it turns out, Hollywood is perfectly aware that Santa exists. My first few months in the North Pole were spent reading scripts and either granting or denying clearance to use Santa’s image and name in various projects. My next few months were spent sending magical cease-and-desist notices to productions and marketing firms who tried to use Santa’s image anyway without the proper clearance.

Twelve months passed and I still didn’t make it all the way down the to-do list. But Marian went out of her way to make me comfortable while I worked. And she even served as my assistant.

When I told her she didn’t have to do so much for me, she answered that she never had the time or wherewithal to be a good mother to either of her daughters. “So I have to pack all the mothering I didn’t do into my one year with you.”

I continue to tell her many times throughout the year that her mothering wasn’t necessary. After all, I grew up with servants. Even my own mother didn’t attend to me the way she insisted on doing ever since we met for the first time on January 7th. Though she greeted me like a long lost son even then.

“Your ghost came to visit me before you passed on to his next life,” she let me know after saying a short hello. “You live to be 106, but you said your time with me in the North Pole was still a fond memory. And even after dementia set in, you remembered your promise to come visit me before you moved on. I’ll tell you, I’ve been looking forward to your twelve months of Kristal for quite a while now. We’re going to be best friends. Apparently, it’s going to be my last year at the North Pole too.”

I very much doubted her story when we first met. But as it turned out, she was right.

Despite my initial protestations, we’ve grown close during our time at the North Pole. And after finding out the hard way that Kristal’s answers to my questions often leave me more confused than when I first asked, I’ve learned to turn to Marian first when the elves start doing something odd.

But this time, she looks at me like I’m the crazy one for asking. “What are they counting down to? Why Christmas of course! Santa just finished dropping off all his presents.”

“What?” I nearly drop the eggnog Kristal handed me to toast Santa’s leaving. “But we just sent him off a few minutes ago.”