Chapter 2: The Coal Theory

        It’s been one year since the Assault on Candy Cane Lane took the lives of Santa Claus and his Reindeer. To mark the anniversary, Amazing Co. is putting on a show commemorating the legacy of Christmas Town’s fallen hero’s most enduring story: The Great Night. The cute little elf children — putting on a happy face for their still grieving parents — give a moving portrayal of the events that unfolded. 

        One stormy night many years ago, Christmas was in jeopardy thanks to an incredible storm that swept through the town. Many figured that Santa would call off the holiday, however a last minute addition to the team and some creative planning saved Christmas from the snow. With their hope dwindling as the night raged on, faith was restored when the people woke the next morning to find gifts dropped off by the fireplace. 

        As the Elves cheer in their seats at the riotous conclusion, a familiar face sits in the back of the audience with a heavy heart. Rudolph, “The Red Nosed Reindeer” — the lone survivor of the North Pole explosion — remembers that day as his fondest memory. Now, with the death of his best friend on his mind, it’s even more prescient. 

        “Lo and behold,” shouts a child dressed as Santa. “I have come to spread tidings of good cheer for all to see and hear. As long as the North Star shines it’s bright light on the town, Christmas will never fade, never disappear. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.” The Little Santa flicks a switch, illuminating the “Great Tree”. 

        Rudy hides in the crowd as they stand up for an roaring ovation. It’s too much for the big heart in his little body to take. He looks up at the top of the crowd where Amazing Co. CEO Jack Frost sits in a large chair. The Elves turn their attention to ice cold power player and adorn him with praise. 

        “Remember the reason for the season” says Frost with a glean in his eye. “Santa will always be in our hearts. Let’s make this the biggest and best Christmas yet!” The crowd erupts with cheer.

        Last Christmas, the Elves put their sadness to work and, in turn, produced a magical Christmas despite the despair. They banded together and worked extra hard for Santa Claus. It was also the most profitable year in Amazing Co. history, which has made a few upgrades in the wake of Santa’s death. When the authorities arrived at Candy Cane Lane, only one thing was left intact: Santa’s workshop and all that was inside of it. Not wanting it to go to waste, Jack Frost had the equipment — more magical and powerful than anything at his headquarters — moved to Amazing Co.  

    

        What the elves did not know is that this is isn’t the first time Santa Claus has died. Long before Kris Kringle wore the iconic red suit, it belonged to someone else... his father, St. Nick — the original Santa Claus. 

*********** 

        Back when he was simply Santa’s son, the younger Claus worked as the supervisor to The Reindeer. The older Claus — some say he was over 900 years old — had lost a step or two with age and was not physically equipped to train his far more athletic crew. To them he was Kringle, a good spirited man who loved to laugh and was filled to the brim with joy; to his father he was simply Kristopher, the biggest joy of his life. 

        Kristopher and his father were extremely close. After all, being the son of a legend kind of makes you stick out like a sore thumb and who really understands you more than your family? From an early age, Kristopher was bigger than all of the other elves. He was looked at as a big brother, a protector of sorts. If other elves were picking on a weaker one, he would step in and regulate the situation... and there was always one "Elf" who loved to cause trouble, even if he wasn't exactly an elf by birth.  

        Jack Frost, once one of Santa’s most unique Elves, always felt out of place. For starters, his skin had a slight blue tint that made him look like an icicle, hence the name “Frost”. It is believed that Jack was left on St. Nick’s doorstep as a child in the middle of a terrible storm, for he has no immediate family at the North Pole. Being the saint that he is, Nick took Jack in as a surrogate son. 

        Kristopher and Jack grew up together and eventually worked alongside each other, although Jack was mostly in charge of the production lines in the workshop. He was always coming up with half-assed schemes to get work done faster, angering many of the Elves who took their work deadly serious. When they would leave the workshop, many of the Elves would talk about him behind his back. Needless to say, Jack wasn't so fond of them either. 

        As the years went by — and Nick got older — production seemed to slow down a bit. Jack pitched an idea to “help out”: The Coal Theory. Instead of everyone getting a gift for doing essentially nothing, there should be a system in place to determine who actually deserves gifts. If someone has been “nice”, they got a gift; if they were “naughty”, they received coal. 

        Not everyone was on board with The Coal Theory, especially Kristopher, who found the idea of Jack insisting only the best people getting gifts to be missing the point of Christmas. However, Nick overlooked his son’s concerns and saw some value in the system. In his eyes, the people of Christmas Town were generally good people and would always do the right thing. This just gave them extra incentive to go the extra mile. 

       The Coal Theory proved to work, actually. The good people maintained their stature and were showered with gifts. However, there were a lot more naughty people in Christmas Town than Nick had anticipated. Not wanting to go back on his word, Nick delivered the coal along with his usual route. It hurt his heart to leave a bag of rocks for a kid who didn’t truly know any better, but hopefully it would be the thing to set that kid on the right track. 

       Nick’s heart wasn’t just hurting from dropping off the coal, either. In addition to the coal weighing down the sled for deliveries, there was a slight hint of radiation emanating from the minerals. Soon, Nick’s body began to shut down and deteriorate. He could feel his time coming, as he had been at this job for quite some time and had never truly been given a rest.

    

        As he lay dying in his bed on Christmas Eve, Kristopher pleaded for his father to pull through for one more night, but it was too late. He was fading fast. 

        “Kristopher”, Nick whispers with his final breaths. “I’m going away for a while and I don’t know when I’ll be coming back.” 

       “No, please,” begged Kristopher. “You can’t. You—you... just one more night, please.” He grabs the side of the bed with a firm grip, hanging his head in disbelief. 

        “I wish it weren’t so, but it is. My time in this world has run its course. I have very little left to give, but there is one last gift to be delivered.” Nick points over to his red suit. “It’s up to you now, my boy... Christmas must go on.” 

        “What, no—“

        “It is the only way.”

        “What am I supposed to do,” asked Kringle. “I can’t be you.”

        “Son,” says Santa in a somber tone. “I don’t have much time...”

        Nick lets out a whooping cough and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes up enough to see his son struggling to keep tears from falling. 

        “It’s OK to cry. That pain you are feeling is the most bittersweet, but it comes from a place of love. It’s the same love a father has for his son when he has to say goodbye. That love will always be there for you, even when I am gone. It will be there to guide you from the North, protect you when you go South and remind you of where you came from.” 

    

        Kristopher wipes away the tears from his eyes and takes his father’s big strong hand. He squeezes it gently. 

        “I’ll make you proud, Papa. I promise.” 

        “You already have.” He gives a wink and cracks a smile. Seconds later, he took his last breath. Kristopher sits alone in the room with his father. He looks over at the suit hanging in the closet. 

        The Reindeer wait outside for news on Nick, only to find Kristopher wearing the suit and a look of sadness. He tells them and the select elves in attendance that his father passed away. He looks over at Jack Frost with a fire in his eyes. 

        “He died because of you,” Kristopher yells at Jack. “You made him question the goodness of Christmas with your stupid Coal Theory and it killed him!” 

        “Well it works, doesn’t it,” quips Jack. “And you look spectacular in red, I might add.”

        “My father is dead and you make jokes?’ Kristopher lunges at the slimy blue elf but is held back by Dasher and Dancer. “Get out.” 

        “And go where, exactly? I live here.”

        “Not anymore you don’t.” 

        “Um, excuse me, but Nick, your father, practically raised me—“

        “Yeah, well, he’s gone. I’m Santa now. And the first thing I’m doing is letting you go. So go to Christmas Town and start over, because you’re not welcome here anymore.” 

        Jack bites his lip and nods his head. He grabs some of his things and heads for the door. 

        “Wait,” says Kringle, digging into his pocket. “You forgot something.” He places a bag in Jack’s hand, containing a single lump of coal. “Merry Christmas, Jack.” 

        Kristopher walks back to the Reindeer and lets them in on the new operation. The only thing he asks of the other Elves is that they keep this secret in house. The people of Christmas Town can never know of the death of St. Nick. His legend must live on through Kristopher Kringle, as one final gift between father and son. 

        Jack puts the lump of coal in his coat pocket and makes his way out of the North Pole, with the sound of the Reindeer bells jingling high in the sky. He shoots a thin middle finger to the jolly fat man who just placed the biggest chip on his ice cold bony shoulders.

   ****************

        A harsh wind pushes through the mountains on the outskirts of The North Pole. Kringle wakes up to find himself very far from home and with no recollection of how he got there. The ringing in his ears is not from Jingle Bells. Worse, his clothes are tattered and bloodied, with part of a fire poker stuck in his side. 

        Kringle musters up whatever strength he has left to sit up and pull out the thin steel rod. He winces in agony as it inches out before taking a deep breath and ripping it away with a ferocious yell. Out of breath and with nowhere to go, he gets to his feet and looks not toward the North, but to the South. Whoever did this is probably looking for him so it’s best not to go back to the scene of the crime. 

        His father used to talk about a “War on Christmas”, and although he couldn’t prove it, some of the other Elves took it seriously and got to work on a bunker project called “The South Pole”. Supposed to serve as the last line of defense in the event of this supposed “war”, the South Pole was equipped with similar equipment at the workshop but with some perks, such as Reindeer tracking sonar devices and a one person sleigh. 

      As Kringle trudges his way through the thick snow, it seems as if he has reached an endpoint. He looks around powder white floors and finds a candy cane shaped pole sticking a foot out of the ground. Clutching his side, he slowly pulls up the bulky steel door and climbs down a hole big enough to fit a man of his size. 

        He shuffles his way down the hatch and into the quite spacious bunker. There’s a king sized bed and a television, a full kitchen with a stash of food to last him well over a year and a working bathroom. He plops down on a couch and rests his head. In one corner of the room are a set of weights and a pull up bar. 

        For a whole year, Kringle lived off of two meals a day and worked his way back to good health. Gone are his beard and flowing white hair, as is his famously rotund figure. He shed two pounds with each passing week, slimming down to a lean muscular physique. It was a strength he had never had before. There was a rage in his heart that he had never felt before, either. A lot of that had to do with the news, though. 

        In the wake of Santa’s absence, Jack Frost had taken on an honorary role as “Mayor of Christmas Town”, in addition to running the largest conglomerate in the world. More and more Elves were succumbing to Christmas Spirit than ever before, sparking debate on if they should even risk working at all. Even worse, he was using Santa’s image as a martyr in a war that he made up himself so he could profit from it. 

        If a war is what Jack Frost wanted for Christmas, Santa was going to personally deliver it to his doorstep. 

    ****************

        If you took a walk through Christmas Town today, you wouldn’t find it nearly as cheerful as it used to be. Many of the bakeries and shops have closed up due to lack of work, as most Elves had to quit their jobs to work at Amazing Co. due to the sickness. It’s taken quite the toll on everyone, but there is hope. 

        The shadow of the Large Elf still looms large over the town. On every street corner is an homage to Santa. His image is plastered on every store front, erected as statues on nearby buildings. He even has a forty-foot mural with the word BELIEVE underneath it in big red letters. 

        In addition to the commemorative play currently wrapping up, several Elves sing their praises for Santa in front of the Great Tree. The tree has seen better days, as even nature hasn’t been the same since Santa left. The snow has come in thick and there has been less sunlight, and while the Tree has been through much worse, it seems it has lost faith in Christmas, too. 

        The singing is soon interrupted by the sound of bells, but these are not the kind you want to hear at night. They belong to the Toy Soldiers, a group of patrolmen put in place by Jack Frost. Since there are no more Reindeer, Amazing Co. hired the Toys to act as added security for Christmas Town. 

        The Toys main objective is to keep order and, most importantly, to make sure the Elves go to work... by any means necessary. Some Elves have been dragged out of their homes against their will and into Amazing Co. for refusing to work. The ones who do show up are usually harassed and whipped into shape whenever they are slacking. 

        “Break it up,” shouts one of the Toys. “Work is at 0600. Get back home.” Several Elves scurry out from around the tree as the Toys move in on them. One of the more courageous Elves — a young elf named Buddy — is not fazed by their presence and refuses to leave, continuing to belt out tunes for his idol. “Can you not hear with those dumbass ears, boy? I told you to get!” 

        Buddy gives them a side eye and goes on with his singing, even louder than before. One of the Toys grabs his hat and throws it on the ground. He picks it up and puts it back on his head. Another Toy goes to grab it, but this time Buddy kicks him before he can. The Toys chase Buddy from the tree, down an alley leading to nowhere.

        “Looks like you’ve reached the end of the line, little man.”

        As Buddy prepares himself for the biggest beating of his life, a giant jumps in from the top of one of the buildings up above. He wears a black trench coat and black books, with a red skull cap covering his bald head and face. He stands over the Toys, his face covered by the darkness. 

        “That’s not nice,” grumbles the cloaked figure. “Do you know what happens when you’re not nice?” The Toys look at each other, unsure of how to approach the situation. Before one of them can answer the question, his head is crushed off his body by what looks like a giant metal candy cane. The Toys fire their pellets at the man but he blocks them with the cane. 

        One by one, the man treats the toy soldiers like batting practice. Limbs fly all throughout the alleyway as Buddy the Elf watches on in horror. As he gets to the last Toy, he kicks out the legs and holds him up against the wall by his neck. 

        “Santa,” chokes the Toy Soldier. 

        “Santa’s dead.” He squeezes the toy’s neck and throws the body down in the pile with the rest of them. “Call me Kringle.” He turns to the scared elf and nods. “Are you OK?”

        “Yeah,” gasps Buddy. “You saved my ass just now.” Several of the Elves come from their hiding places to marvel at the wreckage. They whisper to each other, trying to get a glimpse of the man who disassembled the Toys. 

        “I need you to do me a favor, friends...”

        The Elves watch in wonder as Kringle hops up the walls and onto the top of building, his big boots thumping over every rooftop he jumps to. They do as he says and take the arms and legs of the fallen soldiers to Amazing Co. and begin laying them across the street. 

      ***************

        As madness unfolds in the streets of Christmas Town, Jack Frost struts around in his office, dressed in his brand new silk blue suit that resembles Santa’s. He loves the way he looks. He was born to wear something like this. It’s a powerful look for the most powerful man in the city. As he dances his way to his desk, Bailey walks in with a stack of papers and a suitcase. 

        “What do you think of my new duds,” brags Frost. “I’m the only person in Christmas Town that can pull off this look.”

        “It matches your eyes, sir.” 

        “You don’t like it, do you? But what do you know, you wear hand me downs.” 

        “I mean, it’s just,” stammers Bailey. “It just kinda feels like you really want to be Santa Claus.”

        “And what’s wrong with that? The guy’s a hero!”

        “Well, you did kill him.” 

        “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told me that,” laughs Frost. “Ah, but that’s a story for another time. How are we doing with the Winter Wonderland project?” 

        “It’s coming along,” says Bailey confidently. “We should be ready to roll out the new products by the end of the week. I also brought along a prototype of that thing you asked the Elves to draw up.” 

        “Really”, pipes Frost with a look of excitement. “Is that it?” 

        “Yes, but sir—“

        “Well give it to me, dammit! Let me see it!” Frost snatches the briefcase from Bailey. He opens it up slowly and grins. He pulls out what looks like a pistol but has several knobs on the side of it. 

        “I brought the Elf who built it,” says Bailey. “This is Cornelius the Third.”

        “Hi!” 

        “Yeah, hi. So, what do I do? What’s all this shit?” 

        “Those knobs on the side control the temperature, velocity and stream width,” explains Cornelius. “All you have to do is flip the switch and she’s good to go.” 

        “Just flip this switch and we’re good?”

        “Yes sir, she’s incredibly accurate. I’ve tried it out myself and it works perfectly. Another quality product from Amazing Co.” 

        “Hmm, let’s see...” Frost flicks the switch on the side of the gun and quickly shoots it at Cornelius Elf, freezing him in place in a block of ice. “Holy shit, he wasn’t kidding! That’s five-star quality right there!”

        “So, should I tell them to get to work on that,” asks a concerned Bailey, staring at the frozen elf. “You know, after he thaws out.” 

        “Yeah, yeah, sure. I’m keeping this, though.” He aims the gun the chair an freezes it. He sits down and tries to lean back but can’t. He picks up a piece of coal from his desk and tosses it up into the air. “Did I ever tell you how I got this piece of coal?”

        A Toy Soldier runs into the office. 

        “Sir, you should take a look outside.” 

        Frost gets up from his desk and walks to the large windows overlooking the city. Down on the street below, several Elves stand around a large circle with the letter K in the middle that has been lit on fire. Above the fire, spray painted in white, are the words KRINGLE LIVES....

TO BE CONTINUED....