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Authors: Denis Trom
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stood up and gave each other a
puzzled look as to what was hindering the snowmobile and its
cargo snow sled from rolling out of the garage onto the snowy
driveway. If they could just get the two machines onto the
snow, they would slide easily. Ellie and Will walked down the
opposite sides of the snowmobile and cargo snow sled, meet-
ing at the tailgate. Their eyes followed the skid marks, looking
for a rock or stick that might have gotten caught in the tracks.
They were so intent that they didn’t look up.
“Whoa! What in the world?”
Their hearts nearly tore through their ribcages, and adrena-
line shocked their bodies into contorted maneuvers experienced
by those who slip on a patch of ice and hopelessly try to recover their footing. They grabbed for anything in the air, and their
feet stretched for something firm, preferably soft.
Will crashed into the garden tools hanging on the side wall,
while Ellie’s backpedaling landed her near the front skis and
split her lip on the way down. Afraid to open her eyes, she lay
motionless as her pounding heart coursed through her body
like the world’s wildest roller coaster. Her lower lip throbbed
and was wet with blood. She pressed her hand over her lip and
felt a warm liquid oozing down her chin. She nearly gagged.
Will struggled to find his footing as chicken wire, garden
hoses, and a bicycle pinned him against the snowmobile’s
track. Blindly, he flailed about, flinging his arms and kick-
ing his feet until he was able to roll to his knees. During the
: 69:
De n is t rom
calamity, the overhead door closed and they were hostages
in their own garage.
“Ellie?”
“Will?”
“Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! Oh what fun!” A high-pitched sound
filled the room with loud laughter.
Nobody laughs like that! At least I ’ ve never heard anyone laugh like that. Ellie tried to recall where and when she had heard such a laugh, but no name came to her.
The twins didn’t move a muscle, fearing immediate discovery.
They opened their eyes, looking left then right, but didn’t see
anyone or anything.
“You surely are a sight for sore eyes,” shrieked the shrill
voice. “How do you think you will ever get to the North Pole
when you can’t even get out of your own garage? Ha, ha, ha!
Ho, ho, ho! Oh what fun!”
The twins looked upward to where they thought the squeaky
voice originated. They nodded to each other, signaling that it
was okay to stand up slowly.
“Hi! My name is Jeepers, like in Jeepers Creepers.” The
diminutive man leaped to his feet and stood atop the snow-
mobile. “I know, I know. You are Ellie, and you are Will,” he
chuckled, jumping onto the stowed cargo. He motioned Ellie
to the rear of the cargo snow sled. He put his hands on his hips
and looked at both of them.
“You are the little man who was at City Hall. You opened
the doors and later handed my dad an envelope. When I was
leaving, I saw you standing on the stage wearing the elf-like
uniform you have on now,” Ellie said in awe, inspecting him
from his tam to his booties.
: 70:
s a n ta' s n e w e s t r e i n Deer
“Who are you, and where do you come from?” demanded
Will, gaining more courage since he was taller and bigger than
the little man.
Jeepers pushed the green tam to the back of his head, reveal-
ing a ruddy complexion, pointed nose, and small, round mouth.
It looked like his thick sideburns had been transplanted onto
his face from his head. Looking them squarely in the eyes, he
threw his hands skyward, palms up, then thrust his stubby legs
forward and landed on one of the backpacks.
“I am one of Santa’s most trusted elves. We, the most trusted
ones, become elves-in-residence. We live among you in your
communities. I am the elf-in-residence for Holly Valley. I
have lived here a long, long time—way before you were born.
Frankly, I remember your dad and mom when they were chil-
dren. Besides, how do you think Santa finds out
puzzled look as to what was hindering the snowmobile and its
cargo snow sled from rolling out of the garage onto the snowy
driveway. If they could just get the two machines onto the
snow, they would slide easily. Ellie and Will walked down the
opposite sides of the snowmobile and cargo snow sled, meet-
ing at the tailgate. Their eyes followed the skid marks, looking
for a rock or stick that might have gotten caught in the tracks.
They were so intent that they didn’t look up.
“Whoa! What in the world?”
Their hearts nearly tore through their ribcages, and adrena-
line shocked their bodies into contorted maneuvers experienced
by those who slip on a patch of ice and hopelessly try to recover their footing. They grabbed for anything in the air, and their
feet stretched for something firm, preferably soft.
Will crashed into the garden tools hanging on the side wall,
while Ellie’s backpedaling landed her near the front skis and
split her lip on the way down. Afraid to open her eyes, she lay
motionless as her pounding heart coursed through her body
like the world’s wildest roller coaster. Her lower lip throbbed
and was wet with blood. She pressed her hand over her lip and
felt a warm liquid oozing down her chin. She nearly gagged.
Will struggled to find his footing as chicken wire, garden
hoses, and a bicycle pinned him against the snowmobile’s
track. Blindly, he flailed about, flinging his arms and kick-
ing his feet until he was able to roll to his knees. During the
: 69:
De n is t rom
calamity, the overhead door closed and they were hostages
in their own garage.
“Ellie?”
“Will?”
“Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! Oh what fun!” A high-pitched sound
filled the room with loud laughter.
Nobody laughs like that! At least I ’ ve never heard anyone laugh like that. Ellie tried to recall where and when she had heard such a laugh, but no name came to her.
The twins didn’t move a muscle, fearing immediate discovery.
They opened their eyes, looking left then right, but didn’t see
anyone or anything.
“You surely are a sight for sore eyes,” shrieked the shrill
voice. “How do you think you will ever get to the North Pole
when you can’t even get out of your own garage? Ha, ha, ha!
Ho, ho, ho! Oh what fun!”
The twins looked upward to where they thought the squeaky
voice originated. They nodded to each other, signaling that it
was okay to stand up slowly.
“Hi! My name is Jeepers, like in Jeepers Creepers.” The
diminutive man leaped to his feet and stood atop the snow-
mobile. “I know, I know. You are Ellie, and you are Will,” he
chuckled, jumping onto the stowed cargo. He motioned Ellie
to the rear of the cargo snow sled. He put his hands on his hips
and looked at both of them.
“You are the little man who was at City Hall. You opened
the doors and later handed my dad an envelope. When I was
leaving, I saw you standing on the stage wearing the elf-like
uniform you have on now,” Ellie said in awe, inspecting him
from his tam to his booties.
: 70:
s a n ta' s n e w e s t r e i n Deer
“Who are you, and where do you come from?” demanded
Will, gaining more courage since he was taller and bigger than
the little man.
Jeepers pushed the green tam to the back of his head, reveal-
ing a ruddy complexion, pointed nose, and small, round mouth.
It looked like his thick sideburns had been transplanted onto
his face from his head. Looking them squarely in the eyes, he
threw his hands skyward, palms up, then thrust his stubby legs
forward and landed on one of the backpacks.
“I am one of Santa’s most trusted elves. We, the most trusted
ones, become elves-in-residence. We live among you in your
communities. I am the elf-in-residence for Holly Valley. I
have lived here a long, long time—way before you were born.
Frankly, I remember your dad and mom when they were chil-
dren. Besides, how do you think Santa finds out
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