The Christmas Creep

The Christmas Creep

After more than sixteen centuries, Santa still got a thrill when Christmas finally arrived. He literally existed for the day and the season, brought into being through sheer belief and the Powers That Be, though he’d evolved with the holiday over the years. Popular culture had both expanded and focused his role over the last century, making him truly a force to be reckoned with in his particular domain.

“Bring her down, Rudolph,” Santa called out, tugging gently on the reigns to guide his well-trained team down toward Kiritimati, aka Christmas Island, where they traditionally began the gift deliveries. Santa had settled in to delivering gifts promptly at midnight in accordance with local time zones and the International Date Line. That Christmas Island was first was merely a happy coincidence which always brought a smile to his rosy cheeks.

The team landed his sleigh on the first house, politely ignoring the fact its roof was entirely too small for such an arrangement, and Santa hopped out with a nimbleness that defied his girth. A bag of gifts slung over his shoulder, he slipped down a ventilation pipe (fireplaces being rather uncommon in the South Pacific) and into the living room.

A small, artificial tree sat in the corner, lit festively in red and green lights, with an assortment of wrapped gifts all around the base. Stockings, meanwhile, were hung along a bookshelf, and a plate of cookies was waiting in the usual spot on the end table.

No, Santa noted. The plate was there but only a few crumbs remained. He smiled and chuckled to himself. One of the parents must have had a case of the munchies and finished them off early. No matter. It happened more often than one might think.

Santa reached into his bag and retrieved the gift for the home’s only child, Mikarite. When he stepped toward the tree, however, he froze like the pond outside One North Pole. Another gift, in the exact same wrapping paper and of the exact same size, was already under the tree.

“That’s impossible.”

He lifted the other gift and noted that while the wrapping paper looked identical, featuring this year’s polar bear and snow flake print, it felt slightly different - thinner and cheaper. The name tag was in his distinctive handwriting, though, daring to proclaim it from Santa. Even the gift inside, which he could determine instinctively by Christmas Magic, was the same set of new soccer cleats that were in the official gift he’d brought.

Santa’s heart thudded deep in his chest. Fear wasn’t a part of his existence, but this was as disturbing as anything he’d ever encountered in all his years. His eyes flicked back to the empty plate. Maybe it hadn’t been the parents after all.

What could he do? It would be unethical to take the present, even if only to replace it with an identical one. He couldn’t leave both, as that would cause confusion and decrease belief in him.

And who the blazes had impersonated him and how? Had the elves concocted some grand practical joke as payback for the Christmas in July joke he’d played on them over the summer break? Unlikely, but he was at a loss for any other feasible explanation.

Santa returned the gift that had been placed there first and stuffed his own back into his sack. It seemed the least problematic solution until he had some answers. With a reluctant wiggle of his nose, he shot back up to his sleigh and guided his team to the next house.

#

“I’ve got nothing, Santa,” Ginger said. Even through the snow globe, his right-hand elf’s expression was sufficiently terrified to convince Santa she was not in on some joke at his expense. “Every single house?”

“Thousands so far,” Santa confirmed. “And every last one is the same. Occasionally the gifts are slightly different, but close to being the one I brought. When they are different, it’s usually just a bit cheaper in quality.”

She threw up her arms. “An impostor? But why? And how? I mean, it takes Christmas Magic to deliver the gifts while stopping time. Only you can do that.”

He’d already reached the same conclusion. “It’s like there’s another me out there.”

“It doesn’t work like that, though,” Ginger said. “People aren’t believing in different Santas.”

Santa nodded. They just looked at each other through the snow globe in silence while the sleigh raced on across the water toward the next island. What else was there to say or do?

“I’ll gather up the team,” Ginger said, referring to the elf logistics experts. “See if we can find you some answers.”

“Please do.”

“What about you?”

Santa sighed. “I guess I’ll stick to the schedule. Can’t risk any gifts not being delivered.”

“We’ll figure it out, boss.” With a task to perform under pressure, Ginger reverted to her traditional upbeat elvish self.

#

The story remained the same as Santa continued his routes through eastern Russia, New Zealand, Japan, Papua New Guinea, and eastern Australia. The impostor was mimicking Santa’s job, only doing it before he could. Because he was running behind the other, there were no cookies left for him or carrots for his team. Santa relied on those sources of fuel to keep him going through the night. Less than a tenth of the way through his list, he was woozy and the reindeer were showing signs of fatigue.

With a distressingly fully-loaded sleigh, Santa returned to One North Pole for updates and to swap out his load with the gifts for the next zone. Mrs. Claus, uncharacteristically, met him in the barn, bearing a very welcome tray of Christmas cookies. The reindeer handlers, meanwhile, were ready with an extra measure of oats and apples for the team.

“No luck yet?” Santa’s wife asked, unable to hide her concern.

Santa shook his head. “This could be the biggest disaster since…” He glanced Rudolph’s way and she nodded in understanding.

“Well, that night turned out okay in the end, didn’t it?” She said. “Maybe this is just setting the stage for another Christmas night of legend.”

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. It didn’t feel like that kind of night, but maybe she was right. He needed that optimism.

“Boss,” Ginger said, calling him from across the shop.

Santa grabbed another handful of cookies and excused himself to see what his lead elf had come up with. Ginger, along with Snap, Pepper, Starlight, and Mortimer, pointed to a larger snow globe that was set up on a work bench.

“Find anything?” Santa said.

Ginger pursed her lips. “Not directly, but we can infer some things from what we don’t see.”

Santa looked into the snow globe and found what appeared to be a home’s internal security camera footage. It wasn’t pointed directly at the family’s Christmas tree - such video would inevitably fail if it might accidentally or intentionally try to capture his arrival. It did, however, catch a reflection of the tree in a family portrait hung in the hallway near the living room. It was subtle, only a couple of blurry pixels, but he could see when one moment there were no gifts and the next they were there. It was exactly what it would look like had he delivered them.

“And what does this tell us?” he said.

“Time stamp verification puts this at 11:55pm, just a few minutes ahead of you,” Ginger said. “We’ve been able to corroborate this with hundreds of others.”

That wasn’t much and the looks on the elves’ faces reflected his own sinking feelings. Once upon a time, this wouldn’t have been a problem. It used to be that he delivered gifts after the children were asleep and time was less specific. Over the years, though, it had generally become accepted that he delivered at midnight. There were sneaky ways around kids who were still awake, but he was now obligated to work within the restraint of belief and expectation.

“Thanks,” Santa said.

Ginger frowned. “So, how do we get ahead of this…other?”

Santa glanced up at the big world map posted on the opposite wall, the one that showed the various delivery zones for the gift loading crews. His eyes wandered over it until settling on one specific out-of-the-way spot. Maybe, just maybe…

Ginger smiled, clearly reading him. “You figured it out?”

“No,” he said, “but I do have an idea.”

With a twinkle in his eye and a bounce in his step, Santa hurried over to the sleigh and launched into the starlit sky. He even let out a deep, “Ho, ho, ho,” finally feeling a bit of the spirit that had been absent since his first delivery attempt.

#

Santa drove his team hard over the Pacific and the vast expanse of the Australian Outback. Finally, on that continent’s southern coast, he banked in for a landing on the outskirts of Eucla. It was a tiny town of only about fifty people, little more than a pit stop along the Eyre Highway. There were a small smattering of Christmas lights adorning the buildings, though, enough to give it a festive feel despite the mild summer evening in the desert.

“Stay here and wait for me,” Santa said to his team to allay their confusion over being left away from the house where he would be delivering gifts. Santa slung a sack over his back and headed for the small house he had in mind, this one with a classic chimney.

He slipped down and inside the home, dim save for a small tree in the corner and silent aside from some distant snoring in an adjacent bedroom. Thanks to his magic, no one would hear a peep from his presence, even as he allowed time to flow normally for a change.

Santa approached the tree and, to his immense relief, found there were no gifts from “him” yet. He unslung his bag and placed Elizabeth’s new skateboard under the tree, feeling an immense rush of joy from the act. He then indulged in the cookies and milk left out for him.

Forty minutes later, precisely on time, Santa came down the chimney.

“Ho. Ho. Ho.” Santa stood, crossing his arms across his chest and staring at the very startled other Santa.

Time had stopped at precisely five minutes to midnight, just as it would have for Santa at midnight. That they were both moving and able to interact meant this other Santa was also functioning on Christmas Magic.

“Well, this is awkward,” the other Santa said, dusting himself off and setting his sack on the floor.

Santa nodded, taking full measure of the other. They were, indeed, nearly identical. The other, however, was just a bit fatter. For lack of a better word, the other had a slightly greasy appearance about him. His mannerisms, too, were just a bit off - impatient and arrogant.

“To say the least,” Santa said.

“How did you…?”

Santa cocked a bushy eyebrow. “Get ahead of you?”

“Yeah.”

“Since settling on delivering at midnight, I took to using the official, legal timezones of humanity.”

The other looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded in understanding. “Eucla. It’s part of Western Australia that officially only uses Australian Western Standard Time. But the locals use what they call Australian Central Western Standard Time, which is forty-five minutes ahead.”

Santa nodded. “And because the locals consider it official, I was able to as well.”

“Nice little technicality there,” the other said. “I should have anticipated that.”

“Rookie mistake.”

The other gave a wry grin. “Okay, so that means you’ll have gotten to deliver a handful of presents this year. Well played. The rest are mine.”

“That would be a mistake,” Santa said.

The other puffed up his chest. “Oh? I’m sure you’ll tell me why, old man.”

Santa’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t take the bait.

“You’re the Santa of Christmas Creep, I presume?”

The other gave an exaggerated bow. “In the flesh, finally.”

Santa, in tune to all things Christmas, was well aware of how the holiday had evolved over the years. It was just over the last decade or two, however, when he’d felt an incredible and unpleasant pressure exerting on him from outside. Humanity had felt it, too, and named it Christmas Creep. Stores were displaying holiday wares earlier and earlier. Television specials, holiday concerts, and decorative displays were appearing before Thanksgiving and now even closer to the beginning of November. Worse, more and more people were giving gifts early and expecting the same of him when it was otherwise inconvenient to stick to the traditional schedule. All together, it was diluting the holiday season and invoking a general disdain rather than festive spirit.

He and the elves had actively worked against this creep, though their ability to influence the holiday so far out was limited. Black Friday had actually been one of their ideas, one they’d hoped would firmly mark the official beginning of the season and limit the damage from those trying to start it earlier. Unfortunately, it might have only made things worse in the long run as now retailers began Black Friday sales the week before Thanksgiving and now over the entire month of November.

Santa strongly suspected this latest development had allowed the Creep to manifest. There was now just enough belief in premature celebrating and Santa coming early to satisfy the Powers That Be. Santa had resisted this change rather than adapt to it as he had with so many others over the years, now he saw the result of that tactic.

“This isn’t going to end well,” Santa said.

Creep rolled his eyes, like a teen enduring a lecture from his parent. “Why not? I’m what you should have become. I doubt you’ll last the year, yet Christmas will endure. I’ll still be here and no one will ever be the wiser. After all, I’m Santa Claus.”

“And you’ll be presiding over a fading holiday, one that’s lost meaning.”

Creep chuckled. “You’ve already been doing a bang-up job of that, old man. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”

Santa wanted to slap the Creep upside the head with his sack. He wouldn’t hand Christmas over to this dilution if he could possibly help it. The spirit of the holiday was still strong, despite its strains. It had to remain in strong hands.

“There’s room for the both of us,” Santa said.

Creep scoffed. “You’re just trying to save your generous ass.”

Santa had hoped to handle this diplomatically. The odds of that working were looking weaker by the moment.

“What I’m suggesting is that you could cater to those who shop early and celebrate early. I would handle the traditionalists, thereby keeping the spirit of the season strong.”

Santa didn’t like the offer, but did genuinely feel it could work. Besides, it was in his nature to be generous and giving this time of year.

Creep’s eyes narrowed and he let out chuckle that might have sounded jolly to anyone without a more refined ear.

“Nice try, Santa,” he said. “But I know you don’t really believe that there can be two of us. You know why? Because I’m you and I don’t believe it. So step aside, old man, and let me get on with the long night ahead. Enjoy your retirement in oblivion. You’ve earned it.”

Creep slung his sack over his shoulder. He glanced back, put his finger against his nose and gave a playful wink, and vanished up the chimney in a flash. Moments later, Santa could hear the clatter of reindeer on the roof taking flight.

He slumped down in the home’s recliner and stared blankly at the Christmas tree. Had he made a fatal mistake by resisting the pressure to change this time? He’d felt he needed to make a stand on principle. Was he going to pay the price for that attitude?

The Powers That Be wouldn’t listen to his pleas. The only way to stop the Creep was to change popular belief. But on Christmas night and when the pendulum was swinging against him? It seemed impossible. How to pull it off within the rules?

The rules.

Santa dug into his coat pocket and withdrew his small snow globe. He shook it vigorously, transforming the miniature version of One North Pole into a blizzard. Moments later, the snow intensified and then faded into the face of Ginger.

“How’d it go, boss?”

“As poorly as I’d feared,” he said.

Her face fell. “Peppermint sticks.”

“I need you to do something for me, and fast.”

The elf gathered herself, all business again. “What?”

“I need you to put together a list of those kids that are the biggest sticklers for rules. Starting with those in the closest time zones and working out from there.”

Ginger nodded. Santa knew her curiosity was burning, but the explanation could wait.

#

Santa guided his sleigh in for a gift refill after finishing a pass through eastern Europe. This time, the sleigh was truly empty, all the gifts having been delivered. The attitude of the elves had buoyed considerably and they set to work reloading for his next leg. Santa got out to stretch.

“I see an empty sleigh,” Ginger said, hurrying over from her station while trying to act nonchalant about it.

“Indeed.”

Ginger narrowed her eyes. “And?”

Santa grinned. “And what?”

The elf scowled. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?”

“Ask what?”

Ginger sighed. “Fine. How did you do it? How’d you set things right?”

Santa chuckled. “I dug deep into my bag of tricks. ‘Visions of sugarplums, danced in their heads.’”

“Huh?”

“I went into the dreams of the children from the list you compiled and gave them visions of an impostor delivering gifts early. I was able to startle many of them awake, right in that short gap between 11:55 and midnight. The curious ones went looking for signs I’d been there. When they found gifts from ‘Santa’ but delivered before midnight, they got suspicious.”

Ginger frowned. “But wouldn’t that actually make them more likely to believe in the Creep?”

“Perhaps,” Santa said with a grin. “Only, I then appeared promptly at midnight while they were awake and looking at the suspect gift.”

“Wait, what?! You appeared to them in person?”

Santa nodded. “I’ve done it enough before that it’s accepted as allowable under extenuating circumstances. Kids will accept it. I merely confirmed that their dreams had been true and that I was there to trade out the false gift for the real one. I then thanked them for believing in me and sent them off to bed.”

“Amazing.”

“I only had to do it enough times to create a bit of strong disbelief in the Creep. Since he manifested only just this year, it meant belief in his existence was right on the cusp of being enough. Only took a small nudge to push him back into the realm of un-manifested potential.”

“Well played, Santa,” Ginger said in genuine amazement. “But what about next year?”

Santa’s expression saddened a bit. “We’ve got a lot of work to do in the off-season. Send a memo to the team. I want ideas from everyone on my desk by New Year’s Day.”

Ginger smiled and saluted. “Sure thing, boss!”