Arthur Christmas (7 page)

Bob walked slowly closer to the roof, his gun still aimed at the mysterious thieves. “Who … who's there?” he called out.

Backlit by the remains of the sign, with his big feet, skinny limbs and tight hood, Arthur looked like an alien. His words only added to Bob's confusion, “Um … Peace and goodwill! We are on a vital mission …”

Bob's flashlight beam played over Arthur's feet. Thanks to the reindeer slippers, they looked large and furry. Then the beam found Arthur's bucktoothed face, barely visible inside his hood, and blotchy from cold and his snow allergy.

Arthur went on, “Our … uh … craft has to travel round the world in less than an hour!”

Terrified beyond reason, Bob fired again.
BANG!
Tangled in strings of Christmas lights from the sign, the deer took off, pulling the sleigh in a circle, trailing flashing twinkle lights.

Grandsanta released a cloud of magic dust, and the sleigh rose up like a blinking, spinning UFO!

Bob's jaw dropped in shock as the “alien” grabbed onto the back of the UFO and flew away, shouting, “Sorry we can't pay. Where I come from, we don't have money!”

Stunned, Bob watched the glittering, glowing craft until it disappeared into a cloud.

ARTHUR STARED DOWN
past the metal deer dangling from Eve's harness to the Atlantic Ocean far below. He had never seen anything as big as this ocean. “Do you think we should stop and ask someone for directions?”

“Pishywibble!” Grandsanta replied. “We're nearly there! See, I take the North Star there as a fixed point …” He pointed out a bright spot adding, “Then I plot my bearings from … um …”

Grandsanta's voice trailed off as the “North Star” moved swiftly across the sky!

“That's a plane, sir,” Bryony said.

“Insubordination!” Grandsanta shouted angrily. “I'll have you harpooned, elf!”

Arthur tugged at his parka. “I thought it would be chillier near England.” He glanced at a palm-fringed island below.

“Uh, globular warming,” Grandsanta muttered. Then he exclaimed, “Ha! Land ahoy! Told you!”

The sleigh swooped down toward the coast. But as they neared land, Arthur marveled at the waving green grass, balmy breeze, and lilting cicadas' song.

“Wow, England,” Arthur remarked as the sleigh settled down on the lush grass. A large, exotic bug crawled over his shoulder.

Grandsanta looked around and finally conceded “Maybe we pulled to the right a bit; we're a reindeer short. France!” He climbed down and hobbled off the sleigh, shouting, “BONJOUR! OU EST LE
BOULANGERIE?
”

“
BBBRRRRRMPHHH!
” An elephant trumpeted loudly.

Arthur was puzzled. “They have elephants in France?”

Grandsanta did not yet want to admit his mistake, so he fibbed. “The odd stray. They breed in the drains.”

Then he consulted his ancient parchment and pushed aside a scraggly bush. Beyond it stretched a vast plain full of giraffes, elephants, meerkats, and other African wild life. Grandsanta clung to his lie. “Paris Zoo!”

He walked forward, with Arthur and Bryony on his heels. But even Arthur was having trouble believing the old man. “We landed in the zoo?”

“Um … if we did … then this is the lion enclosure!” Bryony observed nervously.

A pride of lions had begun to circle them!

“They won't eat me—I'm Santa!” Grandsanta declared. Then he tried to command the beasts. “Lie down!”

The nearest lion growled. The deep, ferocious rumble shook the old man's confidence. He stepped back and said, “Um … right … call the keeper!”

Arthur grabbed the map and unfolded it, trying to figure out where they were. His eyes widened as he read the antique and alarming entries. “How old is this? Constantinople? Atlantis? ‘Here be CANNIBALS?'”

“You got to watch out for cannibals,” Grandsanta declared.

As the hungry lions closed in on the travelers, Arthur was becoming frantic. “This isn't France, is it?”

“Course, it is!”

“Technically, it's known as Africa,” Bryony began with the continent, and then became more specific. “The Serengeti National Park, in the country of Tanzania.”

Grandsanta scoffed, “Rubbish! How can you possibly be sure?!”

“The GPS on my Hoho, sir!” Bryony explained. “It cross references seven satellites to pinpoint our location to within three feet …”

Her voice trailed off as Grandsanta pushed Bryony in front of him and offered her to the nearest lion. “Take her! Take the elf!”

“A GPS!” Arthur exclaimed. “Why didn't you say?!”

“I'm a wrapping elf. I don't navigate. I wrap,” Bryony stated. She waved her Hoho. “I use it to store pictures of bows.”

The lions slinked closer, opening their jaws to reveal deadly fangs.

Grandsanta quivered. “Help! I'm too young to die! Arthur!”

The young man was still processing their situation. “She's right. This is Africa! I've seen it on a stamp. You brought us to AFRICA! And we'll all be eaten, and we'll never get to Gwen!”

Arthur stared at Grandsanta, who suddenly looked like a scared, lost, little old man who begged pathetically, “Fight them! Save Santa! DO something! Arthur!!!!!”

But Arthur had never been faced with a life-or-death responsibility before. What could he possibly do against a pride of lions?

Meanwhile, at the North Pole, Steve was searching for a way to contact Arthur and Grandsanta. He called in Ernie, the head of Polar Communications. Ernie was the oldest elf ever. He wore pajamas adorned with medals, wheezing as he slowly set up a cobwebby contraption.

“Can we hurry this?” Steve said. He was getting impatient.

“Oh, you can't rush the Signalator. Got to play 'er gentle.” Ernie continued to set up the dusty, old machine. The Signalator looked like an ancient typewriter. It was massive and had plenty of strange buttons and levers.

Ernie shoved an old wire into a socket. A shock buzzed through his body, causing his hair to stand up. The Signalator hummed to life. Colorful signal flags popped up, and Ernie, very pleased with himself, looked to Steve.

“So, what do you wish to say?”

Back in Africa, Arthur didn't know how to handle the pride of lions coming toward him. Suddenly, without any thought at all, Arthur turned on his musical, electronic reindeer slippers and started singing along. “Silent Night, Holy Night …”

The sound surprised the lions. They had never heard a meal sing before. Neither had they ever seen reindeer slippers with flashing eyes.

The slippers and their terrified owner continued, “All is calm … All is bright …”

Arthur turned to Bryony and Grandsanta and shrugged. “I realize this is mental, but it's all that I know …”

Bryony and Grandsanta might have thought Arthur insane, but the lions were not attacking! Their round, yellow eyes seemed hypnotized by the blinking lights. And their large furry ears swiveled in response to the soothing song.

Arthur cooed, “It's Christmas, nice kitties. So please let us go …”

One by one, the mesmerized lions lay down! Grandsanta and Bryony joined in the song. So the three sang with Arthur's slippers, “Sleep in heavenly peace …”

Soon the whole pride settled down quietly around them. A magical moment of Christmas peace prevailed on the African plain. Slowly, carefully, and still singing, Arthur, Bryony, and Grandsanta made their way back to the sleigh.

“… Sleep in heavenly peace.”

Then just when it seemed they would be safely on their way, a loud
CLANG
shattered the calm. Tiny flags popped up on Eve's dashboard: a message on the old Signalator.

The three travelers jumped into the sleigh just as the startled lions resumed their attack!

“Dash! DASH!” Grandsanta commanded, as one lion swiped at the sleigh's Signalator.

Just as flags flapped and the claxon
CLANGED
on Eve, corresponding flags wiggled on Ernie's device at the Pole.

“Something's coming through!” he reported to Steve and Peter excitedly.

“What does it say?!” Steve demanded.

Unfortunately, Grandsanta wasn't working his Signalator. The lion's paw pushed at it wildly. Ernie scratched his head, but recited dutifully, “Chimney full of cocoa. Send robins.”

Grandsanta swung his cane at the lion batting at the flag-waving device. “No!” he screamed at the naughty cat. “That Signalator is Christmas history, you mangy moron!”

Another lion snatched at Gwen's gift. Arthur pulled it away just in time, but the beast's claws tore at the pretty paper.

Like a miniature ninja, Bryony sprang into action. “HIIYYAAA!” she screamed. “Only children get to tear the wrapping!”

In a flash, she taped together the lion's paws. He stumbled off, as the elf explained to Arthur, “XD3 Automatic Sticky Tape Dispensers!”

Grandsanta shouted at another lion. “Get off! Get off it!”

“Laser-guided scissors …,” Bryony announced as she aimed the light at another lion, temporarily blinding it. The beast quickly retreated.

“Shoulder-mounted gift-wrap!” Bryony went on as she wrapped a third lion's head.

“There's no time for a bow!” Arthur exclaimed.

But Bryony could not abandon her training. “There's always time for a bow.”

The lions didn't think so. They continued to attack, as Bryony frantically pushed buttons on Eve's dashboard.

One button caused an old-fashioned camera to pop up. Its flash momentarily startled a lion, but then the lion smashed the camera with a huge, powerful paw.

“Not MY CAMERA!” Grandsanta moaned.

Finally, the sleigh managed to get off the ground—only to crash into a grove of trees. Two more reindeer broke free of the harness, galloping across the plain to join a herd of antelope.

Arthur rolled the drum of magic dust to the edge of the sleigh and tipped it out over the remaining reindeer.

The sleigh flew safely away! But the wind caught the dust and carried the magic sparkles down to the lions, giraffes, zebras, and elephants, which soon floated above the savannah like huge, live balloons.