One Last Chance |6| The Ascension

Chapter Forty-Two: Last Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Except for the reindeer, the elves, and actual Santa on the roof, of course, because apparently they didn't get the memo and were determined to cause as much noise as possible as they crashed landed on the flat roof outside Wanda's bedroom window.

The crash startled her awake, and she sat up with wide eyes, listening to the muffled voices from outside.

"Moron! Numbskull! Elf!"

"That's racist!"

"Of course it's not racist, you are an elf!"

She climbed out of bed, put on her dressing gown, and crept out onto the roof to investigate. Three figures, two of which were considerably shorter than the third, were looking at a huge sleigh lying on its side.

"I'm sorry!" one of the shorter men exclaimed.

"I'm just checking that you can see these massive chimneys," the one dressed as Santa said sarcastically.

"I, er... they're hard to miss."

Santa scoffed. "Well, as you've clearly demonstrated, Ian."

"Donner!" called the third man, looking up into the sky as a few reindeer flew past. "Donner and Blitzen! Come on down! Down here, girls. Good girls, good girls. Good girl. Rudolph?" As he turned to follow the reindeer, Wanda read the name embroidered on the back of his jacket: Wolf.

"Just, just clear all the tangerines up," Santa ordered, sighing. "Pick 'em up. All of them, Ian."

"You know no one really likes the tangerines, don't you?" Ian grumbled, starting to pick them up, using a torch to see them.

"How dare you!" Santa exclaimed. "That's my signature gift. That and the walnut."

"Down here, girls, come on," Wolf called. "Come on, Rudolph."

Ian froze as his torchlight landed on a pair of slippered feet. He straightened up to see Wanda watching him curiously. "Er... sir? We've been seen."

Santa turned, hesitating. "Hello."

"Hello," Wanda returned, confused.

"Hello!" Wolf added.

Ian smiled. "Hello, human."

Wolf's eyes widened. "You can't call her human."

"It's not racist," Ian assured him. "They don't mind."

"Hush up, both of you," Santa hissed, walking closer to Wanda. "Oh, sorry about this... er, girl. We are just three passing, perfectly ordinary roof people, doing some emergency roof things. Carry on. Merry Christmas—if, if it is Christmas, I mean." He laughed nervously. "I don't much care for things like that, myself. Pfft. I mean, Christmas."

Wanda looked him up and down, from his deep black boots to his fur-trimmed hat. "Are you Santa Claus?"

"Me?" Santa made a face. "Oh, no, don't be ridiculous. No, no, no." Behind him, Rudolph flew past with her blatantly glowing red nose. Wanda raised her eyebrows.

"Rudolph!" Wolf called. "Rudolph! Down here now!"

Santa sighed in exasperation. "Alright, fine, yes. Yes, it's me. Guilty. How did you recognise me?"

"You know how you grew that beard as a bit of a disguise?" Wolf reminded him. "People have picked up on it."

"No, seriously," Wanda said, her eyes wide. "You're Santa. You're Father Christmas. You're... real?"