Santa Command—Loading Dock
December 25th
0054 hours
Phil stepped forward. Beth stood beside him. It was her fault Tracy had escaped the dressing room, so she insisted on coming along to help.
Tracy's eyes darted between Phil and Beth. It wasn't the kind of look children give when they're trying to come up with an excuse. Phil got the sense he was being studied, kind of like the personality test he'd endured when first coming to work for Santa Command. It unnerved him to be analyzed like that by a ten-year-old girl.
When Tracy was satisfied, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I believe I have an appointment with Mrs. Claus.”
Phil had intended to utter some adult-sounding phrase like, “You shouldn't be in here,” grab her by the shoulders, and march her back to a safe zone where she wouldn't see anything “unusual.” But the self-assured tone in Tracy's voice made Phil's words fizzle out before they reached his lips. He clutched his hands in front of him, wishing for the comfort of a computer keyboard. His life's work involved squaring off with children, but he always did it from a behind a control panel. Going one-on-one was an entirely different skill. Fortunately, Beth was raising her eleven-year-old nephew and had no trouble handling the situation.
“Absolutely, but first,” she put her hands on Tracy's shoulders and turned her toward the door, “we need to get you out of here. None of us should be in here. It's a hard hat zone after all.” She tapped a yellow and black striped sign on one of the shelves confirming exactly what she said.
Phil followed behind them as Beth led Tracy into the hallway, half impressed by Beth's ability to do what he hadn't, and half shocked that Beth had promised Tracy she would meet Mrs. Claus. How did she plan on making that happen?
As they walked, Beth introduced both herself and Phil.
He mumbled a “Hello,” but otherwise didn't interrupt.
“How's your arm doing?” Beth asked.
“Um…” Tracy slid up the arm of her Santa coat. Her cast was a reminder that Phil was part of the reason she'd been injured. He was glad they were able to fix that at least. “Good, I guess.”
“Does it still hurt?”
Tracy poked the cast in several places. “No, not anymore.”
“Then, let's take that off.”
They all stopped in the hallway while Beth slid her finger inside the cast and pushed a button located near Tracy's wrist. The cast dissolved, leaving nothing but a freshly healed arm.
“Wow!” Tracy wiggled her fingers. “How'd you do that? Was it some sort of heat soluble fabric?”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Beth turned around and continued walking.
Tracy scrambled to catch up, her curiosity piqued. “That button you pushed. It must have sent heat through the cast and made it disappear.”
Beth considered that, carefully thinking out her answer.
Good, Phil thought. You have to be on your toes when it comes to this kid.
Beth finally said, “Did you feel any heat?”
Tracy touched her arm as if she were trying to remember. “No.”
“Okay,” Beth said as if the matter was settled. “How about we say it was magic?”
“How about we don't?” Tracy whipped out a tiny notebook and pen and scribbled something down. “I've given you my hypothesis—”
“And I've proven your hypothesis incorrect. When that happens, you need to modify it.”
Tracy paused mid step and let that sink in. Her pen hovered over her paper. “Modify it to what?”
“I gave you an alternative theory.” Beth took Tracy’s notebook and scribbled the word “magic.”
“And I denied it.”
“Why?”
“Because magic doesn't exist.” Tracy took the notebook back and crossed out Beth's answer.
“Hm, I've heard that before.”
Phil marveled at their banter. He was beginning to see what brought Tracy to Santa Command. She was one of those kids who needed to understand everything. He had been one of those kids, which eventually led him to his job.
Tracy frowned. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“I have, but you haven’t accepted the answer.” Beth continued walking.
They passed several of the control rooms, including the one Phil had been working in before Tracy arrived. Several dozen employees rushed past them, seeking out different control rooms and different Santas. Fortunately, Walt wasn't anywhere around. He would ask them to explain themselves. How could Phil do that when he didn't have a clue where Beth was taking them?
Of course, Tracy would be the one to ask. “Where are we going?”
Beth led them down a side hallway. “I'm taking you to see something more concrete. But I guarantee you won't find scientific answers for everything you see tonight.”
“I bet I will,” Tracy said.
“I don't make bets.” Beth stopped in front of a door with a keypad lock above the handle. “Ah, here we are.”
Phil, who had been following along like Tracy, stopped short when he saw what room they were standing in front of. He suddenly understood what Beth meant about meeting Mrs. Claus.
He pulled Beth around the corner and lowered his voice to a whisper. “This is a very bad idea.”
“Maybe,” she said, “but what do you think she's going to do if we lock her in that dressing room again?”
“Sneak out,” he admitted.
“Exactly. You brought her here. You need to make sure she has enough information that she knows to keep quiet.”
Beth was right. A little information was dangerous. Tracy might blab to all of her friends. But if she knew why she couldn’t talk about it, then maybe they could turn this disaster around.
“Fine,” he said, “but we're not telling Walt about this.”