on the nighttime answering machine. He would not be in tomorrow, he said, as he had been called unexpectedly out of town.
“There!” cried Stanley, by the window. “The Smiths’ light is out.”
The Lambchops changed quickly from pajamas to warmer clothing, and followed Sarah to the sleigh.
2
The Sleigh
“Welcome aboard!” said Sarah, from the driver’s seat.
The Lambchops, sitting on little benches that made the big sleigh resemble a roofless bus, could scarcely contain their excitement.
The night sky shone bright with stars, and from the windows of nearby houses red and green Christmas lights twinkled over snowy lawns and streets. Before them, the eight reindeer, fur shiny in the moonlight, tossed their antlered heads.
“Ready when you are, Sarah,” Mr. Lambchop said.
“Good!” Sarah cleared her throat. “Fasten your seat belts, please! We are about to depart for Snow City. My name is Sarah—I guess you know that—and I’ll be glad to answer any questions you may have. Please do not move about without permission of the Sleigh Master—that’s me, at least right now—and obey whatever instructions may—”
“Pu-leeese!” said Arthur.
“Oh, all right!” The Lambchops fastened their seat belts, and Sarah took up the reins. “Ready, One? Ready, Two, Three—”
“Just
numbers
?” cried Mrs. Lambchop. “Why, we know such lovely reindeer names! Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen—”
“Comet, Cupid, Donder, Blitzen!” shouted Arthur. “They’re from a poem we know!”
“Those
are
good names!” said Sarah. “Ready, One through Eight?”
The reindeer pawed the ground, jingling their harness bells.
“Now!” said Sarah.
The jingling stopped suddenly, and a great silence fell.
Now a silver mist rose, swirling, about the sleigh. The startled Lambchops could see nothing beyond the mist, not their house nor the houses of their neighbors, not the twinkling Christmas lights, not the bright stars above. There was only the silver mist, everywhere, cool against their cheeks.
“What is this, Sarah?” Mrs. Lambchop called. “Are we not to proceed to Snow City?”
Sarah’s voice came cheerfully through the mist. “We have proceeded. We’re there!”
3
Snow City
Beyond the mist, excited voices rose. “Sarah’s back! … With strangers! Big ones! … Where’s she been?”
“Poppa’s elves,” said Sarah’s voice. As she spoke, the mist swirled, then vanished as suddenly as it had come. Above them, the stars shone bright again.
The sleigh rested now in a snow-covered square, in front of a pretty red-roofed house. All about the square were tiny cottages, their windows aglow with light.
Elves surrounded the sleigh. “Who
are
these people?” … “Is it true, what we’ve heard?” … “Ask Sarah! She’ll know!”
The Lambchops smiled and waved. The elves seemed much like ordinary men and women, except that they had pointy ears, very wrinkled faces, and were only about half as tall as Arthur. All wore leather breeches or skirts with wide pockets from which tools and needles stuck out.
“Miss Sarah!” came a voice. “Is it true? He won’t go this year?”
Sarah hesitated. “Well, sort of … But perhaps the Lambchops here … Be patient. Go home, please!”
The elves straggled off toward their cottages, grumbling. “Not going?” … “Hah! After all our work?” … “The Whochops?” … “I’d go work somewhere else, but
where?
”
A plump lady in an apron bustled out of the red-roofed house. “Sarah! Are you all right? Going off like that! Though we did find your note.
Gracious! Are those
all
Lambchops, dear?”
“I’m fine, Momma!” said Sarah. “They wouldn’t let Stanley come by himself. That’s Stanley, there. The other one’s Arthur. Stanley
was
flat, but he got round again.”
“Clever!” said Mrs. Christmas. “Well! Do all come in! Are you fond of hot chocolate?”
“… an excellent plan, I do see that. But—Oh, he’s in
such
a
Vannetta Chapman
Jonas Bengtsson
William W. Johnstone
Abby Blake
Mary Balogh
Mary Maxwell
Linus Locke
Synthia St. Claire
Raymara Barwil
Kieran Shields