William, Liz, J.J. and Mrs. Claus were all sitting around the large beech table in The Boardroom to have their daily call with Mr. Claus, who had decided to move to California because ‘they had it all covered’ at The Pole. As they had hit December they were left with making sure Christmas went ahead without a hitch.
Mr. Claus had recently changed the way they did business at The North Pole. He insisted on re-naming everything internally so that they now all referred to their base as The Pole and dropped the Santa name. They embraced automation and globalization. Gone were the workshops and toy-making know-how and almost everything was outsourced. The three remaining elves and Mrs. Claus were left to manage the process with Liz being the de facto leader due to her proclivity for systems and timeliness.
The other elves were given forever pensions and moved back to where they still had family. By all accounts they were content with the deal and those William knew about still kept making toys for their family and friends.
“He’s impossible at times,” said Mrs. Claus and took a cigarette out of her purse.
“And where is it that he is again?” asked Liz.
“Berkeley,” answered J.J.
“Berkeley… isn’t that full of hippies and potheads?” asked Mrs. Claus as she took a drag on her cigarette.
“They have their share. But I think their reputation is greatly exaggerated. But I don’t think you have to look hard to find all sorts,” said William.
“If he is not calling then let’s get down to business,” said Liz.
Mrs. Claus nodded in agreement as she poured a slug of bourbon into her coffee from an antique hip flask that she kept in her purse.
“I am sure that he would want to keep things business as usual,” said Liz.
“Business as usual, huh? When was the last time we had a normal Christmas? 2008 or so,” said Mrs. Claus.
“So J.J. can you please pull up the presentation that we worked on?” said Liz.
J.J. was the youngest elf in the group and a computer expert to boot, so he was in charge of all of their computer systems and digital communication.
“Sure,” said J.J. and went to work at his computer.
“I don’t want to be that guy. But— it does worry me that we don’t hear from Mr. Claus now that we have reached December. You all know how— unexpectedly complicated— our Decembers have been the last few years,” said William.
“William, do we need to go there? It’s just one call,” said Liz.
“Sorry,” said William.
Over the last decade Mr. Claus and the group at The Pole had been subjected to kidnappings, extortion and campaigns to thwart Christmas. William knew better than the others that a missed phone call could mean more than just an oversight. He preferred knowing Mr. Claus was okay even that he clearly had forgotten this call. They could easily cover for him and take care of the business of Christmas, but William had hoped for a smooth and clear holiday season for once.
J.J. looked up from his computer and said, “Uhm, I think we have a problem.”
