Selby Santa (13 page)

Selby handed him the camera.

‘Good photo,’ Santa said. ‘It looks just like me. I think this is the camera I gave to Mrs Trifle last year.’

He handed the camera back to Selby.

‘I thought you were going to delete it,’ Selby said.

‘Heavens no. It’s your photo and you can keep it,’ Santa said, looking through his bag again. ‘I can’t seem to find your present.’

‘A present for me? You’ve actually got one?’

‘Well, I thought I did, but it looks like I’ve got the wrong bag. These aren’t Bogusville
presents at all. I’ll have to go back and get the right one. This is happening more and more these days. Something is seriously wrong.’

‘You mean you’ve got to go all the way back to the North Pole just to get another bag?’

‘That’s right. Do you want to come?’

‘Me? Really? Can I?’

As soon as Santa and Selby got into the sleigh, the reindeer took off, pulling them so fast that the world was a blur. In less than a second, they landed at the North Pole.

‘So that’s how he does it!’ Selby thought. ‘His reindeer go faster than lightning! It takes no time at all to go back and forth.’

Santa led Selby down a snow tunnel and into his huge workshop.

‘The elves!’ Selby said. ‘Look at them all!’

The workshop was full of elves and machinery and noise. Steam was rising and computers hummed.

‘Yes, and they’re good little workers,’ Santa said, patting a couple of them on the back.

The elves didn’t look up. They were all working as fast as they could.

‘They don’t look happy,’ Selby said.

‘Really? No, I’m sure they’re happy. They just love the thought of making little kids happy. That makes them happy, too.’

Some of the elves nearby looked up for a moment before going back to work. They didn’t look happy at all.

‘You gave me the wrong bag,’ Santa said to one of his helpers. ‘I went to Bogusville in Australia and you gave me the bag for
Bogenfeld
in Austria.’

The elf checked the label on the bag and then, without a word, whipped it away, changing it for another bag.

‘Thanks,’ Santa said. ‘Okay, everybody listen to me! Remember that this is the most important night of the year, so could you please speed it up a bit? Okay, Selby, back we go.’

Just as Selby and Santa turned to go, one of the elves yelled out, ‘That’s it! I quit!’ and switched off his machine.

The elf next to him did the same, and then the one next to him as well. A wave of silence rolled through the workshop as all the elves shut down their machinery.

‘What’s this all about?’ Santa said in a jolly voice.

‘We’re sick of Christmas!’ an elf yelled. ‘We do all the work and you get all the credit!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You get stacks and stacks of letters from kids thanking you for this and thanking you for that. We’re the ones who make the toys but do
we
ever get a letter?’

‘No way!’ all the elves yelled.

‘We work all year long and you only work for one night!’ another elf called out. ‘It’s not fair!’

‘Goodness me,’ Santa said,‘I had no idea you felt this way. I don’t know what to say.’

‘Say that Christmas is cancelled from now on because we’re not going to take it any more!’ an elf in the back called out. ‘It used to be fun when we got to make nice little wooden soldiers and stuff. But now kids only want things that you buy in shops, so we have to make toys that look like them. It’s not fun any more! If I have to make another DVD, I think I’ll throw up!’

Selby watched as the elves put on their pointy green hats and started to leave the workshop.

‘Hold on!’ Selby called out. ‘You’re making a big mistake.’

‘Who are you?’ an elf asked.

‘I’m Selby, the only talking dog in Australia and, perhaps, the world. But never mind about that. I love you little guys.’

‘You do?’ another elf said.

‘Yes. You don’t know how important you are.’

‘Are we?’

‘You make kids all over the world happy. I know that it can’t be easy or fun to make all those prezzies —’

‘Prezzies?’

‘Presents. That’s the way we say it in Australia,’ Selby explained. ‘If you cancel Christmas, think of how sad the kids will be. Think of kids getting up in the morning and, okay, getting some presents but not getting one from Santa Claus — which of course is really from you guys. Just imagine the tears in their eyes.’

‘I can imagine that,’ an elf said.

‘You guys are loved, you just don’t know it. Okay, so Santa should probably tell you sometimes.’

‘I should?’ Santa said. ‘Yes, I guess I should. I had no idea that you weren’t happy little chappies.’

‘Yours is the most wonderful work in the world,’ Selby went on. ‘Never before has so much been done for so many by so few … short people. Think of all the happiness you give. Please, on behalf of all the kids, I beg you to go back to work.’

The elves stood there silently. Soon there was whispering and then mumbling and then talking and finally one of them yelled, ‘He’s right! The dog is right!’

‘Come on, guys!’ another elf called out. ‘Let’s get this job done!’

One by one the machines started up and a buzz and a hum filled the workshop again.

‘Selby, that was wonderful,’ Santa said. ‘You’re a very good speaker. You should do it more often. I had no idea they were unhappy. Selby, you’ve saved Christmas. Now, there’s no time to waste. I’d better get back to my deliveries.’

Santa grabbed his bag and he and Selby hopped into the sleigh. The next thing Selby
knew, he was lying on the Trifles’ carpet in Bogusville and it was morning.

‘Hey! Where’s Santa?’ he thought. ‘He was here, wasn’t he? I mean I did go to the North Pole, didn’t I?’

Soon the Trifles were up and opening presents. They got all the presents that you read about in the previous story and then …

‘Look, there’s one last present,’ Mrs Trifle said, pulling it out. ‘It’s for Selby. I don’t remember seeing this before.’

‘Neither do I and I checked all the prezzies,’ Selby thought.

Mrs Trifle opened the package. It was a little wooden carved elf with a green suit and a pointy green hat. The elf was pointing his finger and winking.

‘Goodness me,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘It’s quite beautiful. It looks like one of those old toys I got when I was a kid. Who’s it from?’

‘The card just says,
From Santa and the elves
,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Who could that be? Oh, I know, it’s probably from Jetty and Willy and Billy. Elves — that’s a good name for them,’ she added with a laugh. ‘Hey, take a picture of Selby with his elf. Look, the camera’s over there on the carpet. I wonder how it got there.’

Dr Trifle grabbed the camera and turned it on.

‘That’s funny,’ he said,‘have a look at this.’

‘Oh no!’ Selby thought. ‘I forgot to delete the photo of Santa! Now his secret will be out! What will I do? I wanted to take the picture to prove to everyone that Santa is real but now I don’t want do it! It will ruin the magic of Christmas! Oh woe woe woe, what can I do?’

As Dr Trifle was handing the camera to Mrs Trifle, a paw shot out as quick as Santa’s reindeer. There was a soft sound from inside the camera.

‘The picture disappeared,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘It was like it deleted itself. What was it? I didn’t quite see it.’

‘I could have sworn it was a picture of Santa Claus standing next to our Christmas tree,’ Dr Trifle said.

‘A photo of the
real
Santa?’

‘Yes, but if it was, I can’t imagine who could have taken it. It seemed to have appeared and
disappeared by magic. Maybe that’s what they mean by the magic of Christmas.’

Dr and Mrs Trifle smiled at each other and then gave Selby a pat.

‘You’re the dearest, most wonderful people on Earth,’ Selby thought, as he struggled to keep from smiling. ‘And you’ve just seen a bit of the magic of Selby.’

by Selby Trifle