Reindeer James

Chapter 18

By the time James finished helping Clarice test possible new materials for the FAST's outer casing, his face ached almost as much as his arms. There was nothing quite like getting to mess around without fear of getting told off to put a cheek-achingly huge smile on his face.

They'd tried just about everything to damage the different materials: throwing them against rocks, hitting them with hammers from Clarice's toolkit, jumping on them, and dozens of other crazy tests. As Clarice dented one plastic shell after another, James wondered if maybe improving the FAST wasn't the only reason she wanted to do this.

He couldn't blame her. If he wasn't so busy with the Games, he'd stay cooped up in his room playing video games until his dad's lack of faith in him finally faded from his mind. Or at least until he had to come out for dinner.

They spent hours testing the latest version of the FAST with Ruby, guiding her through an obstacle course Gabe had set up in an indoor training arena. She flew through hoops and dodged barrages of tennis balls with only a couple of them smacking her sides, each flight smoother than the last.

But no matter how well Ruby flew in the training arena, they knew it would be much harder for her outside. Hail beat against the roof like a toddler banging a toy drum, and the power flickered often enough that Clarice resolved to gather as many spare batteries for the FAST as she could in case the storm knocked out her charging stations.

Once they exhausted the scent capsules Gabe had allocated them for their training session, James and Clarice headed back home to curl up with some hot chocolate. Their mom sat huddled by the fireplace. "Have either of you seen Nick?" she asked.

"Not since the crash," Clarice said quietly. "Why?"

Mrs. Claus bit her lip. "It's not like him to just vanish like this. He didn't even show up to your father's meeting with Hasbro yesterday, and you know how punctual he is."

"Yeah, he totally flips out if he's even one second late," James said with a half-hearted smirk that soon faltered. "Something's definitely up."

The rapid thudding of heavy boots running across their house announced Santa's arrival. He clutched a letter with trembling fingers. "He's gone," he said before reading the letter out loud. "After careful consideration, I have determined that I am unfit for the role of Santa. Consider this my official resignation. Goodbye, Nick."

Nick had been so unhappy.

That realization washed over James like snowmelt. As long as he could remember, Nick had devoted himself to his role as the next in line to be Santa. He'd spent months poring over instruction manuals for every last machine in the workshop. Every time his dad had to meet with the CEO of some toy company or another, Nick was always among the first to welcome them to the Pole. If something went wrong, even though he'd grumble about it like a polar bear that had just woken up from hibernation, he'd always rush to help.

Without him, the whole North Pole would be in trouble. Even Christmas would be in trouble.

And James would miss him. Nick was a Scrooge and a party pooper and a dozen other things, but he was still James's brother. His brother who he'd always been able to count on even in the nastiest blizzard.

Yet Nick hadn't been able to count on any of them to realize just how miserable he was.

"I'll check if he's anywhere in the house," Mrs. Claus said with a resolute nod. "Clarice, tell the elves and see if they know where he went. James, you and your father had better check the BOW. That's our best shot at finding him."

"That's my Carol," Santa said before giving her a quick hug. "Always as cool as an iceberg no matter how bad things get. We'll find Nick before you know it!"

Santa led James through a maze of corridors. They marched past the Library of Letters, the list checking chamber, and a dozen more of Santa's most frequented rooms before finally reaching the BOW room.

A humongous screen displaying the entire world stretched across the far wall. In front of it sat a mountain of notepads, a worn leather chair, and the Believers of the World, also known as the BOW. It had taken many forms over the course of the centuries, but for James's dad the BOW was a red and white bicycle helmet with a flaming reindeer sticker on the side. 

"Why did Dad ever let me pick this design?" Santa mumbled under his breath. He attached a pair of sensors to his scalp before gently lowering the BOW onto his head. The machine clicked and whirred, displaying a message that said "Welcome, Santa!" on the screen in front of him as the sticker on the side of the helmet flashed bright green.

James's eyes ached as billions of dots swarmed across the screen in front of them. "How is this gonna help?" he asked.

Santa's eyes widened. "Did I really never tell you about this?"

"Nope."

"Shoot, where do I even begin?" Santa squinted at the screen before sighing and snapping his fingers.

The number of dots on the screen was reduced to a couple hundred as the map zoomed in to show only the North Pole, cycling through snippets of camera footage of its residents. "If I can just get it to focus on Nick," Santa said as a list of filters sprung up on the side of the map, "then we'll know exactly where he is."

No wonder his dad always knew when he stayed up playing video games long past his bedtime. James shuddered at the thought of exactly how much of his mischief his dad had seen. "How'd you do that?"

"The BOW knows what I'm thinking," Santa said, "and when I snap my fingers, it shows me who I want to see."

He snapped his fingers. A bright red error message popped up in the center of the screen. Error 4041225: Belief Not Found.

Santa gasped as if the wind had been knocked out of him. "This can't be right," he said.

He snapped his fingers again and again, but the error message kept popping up.

"If it's a glitch," James said, "maybe Susie or Clarice can fix it, I'll go ask— "

"That won't do any good," Santa said. His voice cracked. "The BOW can only track people who believe I can help them with their problems." Tears dripped into his beard as his shoulders shook. "Nick doesn't believe in me anymore."