Twelve Months of Kristal: 50 Loving States Maine

That is true. I’ve spent enough time with Marian in the library to know that the Santa selection process is top-secret. There’s not even a record of his appointment in the Book of Elves. And the Santa before this one was apparently chosen before the advent of written language. No one knows if any of the Santas were originally elves or spirits or even something from outside this third-dimensional world.

Santa is usually very indulgent with Marian, up to agreeing to retire rather than start the elf orphan adoption program again. But he refuses to tell her his origin story until what he calls “the right time.”

But I tell Hugh, “I doubt it will be me. If that were the case, Santa probably would’ve used the last twelve months to train me. And if it was you, your future ghost probably would’ve come back to let Marian know. I’m thinking it’s someone neither of us knows.”

Hugh nods thoughtfully. “A wildcard. That would be dramatic indeed.”

I nod in agreement. If there’s one thing I’ve learned after twelve months at the North Pole, reading through all the stories of how Santa has interfered in elves' lives in one way or another, it’s that, “Santa likes drama.”

Hugh lets out a wry chuckle. “That, he does. He and Marian really are a perfect match.”

We sip on our drinks while looking around the party. This year it’s only elves and just a smattering of humans.

“Let me tell you, you chose the right year to take a sabbatical,” Hugh says as we take in the much smaller Christmas party. “Not to sound too much like an American, but 2020 truly was the worst.”

I have no doubt about that. Elves are incredibly social creatures, so being stuck inside for much of the year under quarantine couldn’t have sat well with any of them.

“Krista and I haven’t had a dinner party since March,” Hugh tells me. “It’s fine for elves. They can’t get sick. But most of the Kringles we know are in relationships with humans, so it wouldn’t have been safe. Also, two of our dearest friends, Edith and Abe, are getting on in years. And we haven’t been able to see them since the first wave.”

I shake my head, commiserating.

Hugh must’ve read my mind. “How do you think Kristal will handle her gift with a pandemic going on outside?”

Before I can answer, Krista comes over and grabs hold of Hugh. “Oh my Santa! Oh my Santa! You won’t believe who’s here! It’s Kristos!”

Hugh frowns down at his wife, “And Kristos is…?”

Krista lets out a frustrated huff. “I keep forgetting that he’s one of the few elves who insist on using his real name in the third dimension. But he’s, like, super famous. For owning that big company. What’s it called? You know the one that’s always sending us presents?”

I frown. Presents is the catchall term that elves use for packages of all kinds and also for little things like coffee and lunch deliveries. But there is a huge company that also calls packages presents as part of their branding. “Galatas?”

Krista snaps her fingers. “Yes, Galatas! That’s the name of the company.”

Hugh shakes his head at her. “You must be mistaken. Konstantine Galatas founded that company. And he is a horrible human being. I mean, the very definition of a Scrooge. He is definitely not an elf.”

“Yes, that’s why we don’t speak of him often. He’s kind of the anti-elf. But that’s his real name. I’ve no idea why he prefers it. Kristos Kringle sounds so much better, don’t you think?”

Hugh and I just stare at her, too stunned by the news that Konstantine Galatas is actually an elf. And Krista is too impatient for us to catch up.

She takes Hugh by the hand. “But the main point is, he’s here! And he’s glowing.”

With that little exclamation given, Krista takes Hugh by the hand and begins dragging him through the party.

Marian must’ve rubbed off on me. Too nosy to stay behind, I follow them, just as “River Deep, Mountain High” starts playing overhead.

And sure enough, there’s Konstantine Galatas standing by the buffet, which apparently isn’t a thing anymore in the now pandemic ridden third-dimension.

Really, he doesn’t appear elven at all. Kristal, Krista, and many of the male elves could be described as cute, happy, and warm. However, Konstantine looks exactly the opposite of that. He has dark hair and a thick beard and stands nearly a foot taller than every other male elf at the party, which gives him a rather villainous cast. He’s also scowling as if all the cheer and goodwill in the air have put him in a particularly bad mood. No, he doesn’t strike me as elvish in the least. And though, we’ve never met, his reputation as a cold and merciless tech titan appear to be well earned.