Esme's Gift

         “Eeeeeeeeeeeek!!”

         Melvin, who was curled up in blissful slumber on a large sack of flour, jerked awake with a breathless squeak and tumbled to the floor.

         He scrambled to his feet; felt green hat with its tinkling golden bells all askew, and spun around looking for the mouse responsible for waking him. Now in a pugilist stance, it would take a moment to realize that one; mice weren’t likely to squeal like that, and two, the kerfuffle was happening in the kitchen.

         He tiptoed to the door and peered through the crack.

         He could see Baker Tim, the jolly round man with the bouncing belly, hugging his similarly framed wife, in delight. Hopping before them was Esme, grinning from ear to ear, with tears in her eyes. It was clear she was responsible for the deafening noise, and the reason for it was the golden ticket in her grasp.

         Esme had passed the audition.

         Melvin turned away; feeling his heart plummet in disappointment.

         It isn’t fair, he thought, as he scampered back up the mountain of flour bags to wallow in misery.

         He, and Esme, came to Winterwood about three years ago, with nothing but the pointy boots on their feet and a dream. Winterwood was considered the gateway to the ultimate goal for any able-bodied elf for it was just a stone’s throw away from the place where all elves hoped to eventually become one of ‘The Chosen’ – The North Pole aka Santa’s Magical Workshop.

         They were fortunate to be hired by Baker Tim, who ran one of the busiest pastry shops in Winterwood, and with his lovely wife, Betsy, the couple were willing to make adjustments for the duo to attend the open auditions hosted every year.

         Melvin didn’t mind that he was kept in the storeroom to help with the prep work, while Esme – who was so much prettier with her silver hair and violet eyes – charmed the customers as she waited on tables or sang and danced at the corner of the intersection to attract new clients.

         Melvin, with chin in cupped hands, stared morosely at the floor. He didn’t even budge when Millie the Mouse poked her nose out of her hiding place to sniff at him. When she was sure she wouldn’t be chased away, she sat beside him…before offering a tiny chunk of mouldy cheese as a peace offering.

         After all, she had won their last boxing match.

         “Not in the mood, Millie,” Melvin mumbled.

         “Not like you to be sulking…oh wait…it is like you to be sulking,” she replied with a chuckle, but then stopped when she didn’t receive the usual snarky retort. In silence, she decided to nibble on her cheese, for sometimes it was better that way. Besides, she was sure he would start talking anytime from n-

         “It’s not like I’m jealous,” Melvin began as if on cue. “I really am happy for her. She aced it and deserves it.”

         Millie perked up; her brown ears twitching. “Esme got the job? That’s awe…oh.”

         She nibbled on her cheese again.

         “You should have seen it,” Melvin continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “There was a gazillion of us to be auditioned, but Santa’s staff was efficient to the tee. It was almost intimidating despite how stunning the place was.”

         “What’s it like there?” Millie asked; her curiosity piqued.

         “Like walking into a land of wonder, magic, and…hard to describe,” came the wistful reply as his blue eyes glowed with the memory. His cheeks flushed pink as he recalled the anticipation and fear that surged through him as those towering golden gates swung open. He could still feel Esme’s gentle squeeze of his hand in reassurance.

         “They had to split us up, you see,” Melvin continued. “But lucky for me, I wasn’t so far from Esme’s group. We were taken into this great big hall where we all sat on chairs shaped like candy canes. They gave us cookies and milk for refreshment, and I swear, they literally melt on your tongue. It reminded me of home…”

         Melvin’s voice trailed off as his throat tightened. However, he composed himself and continued quickly.

         “When they called your number, you’d go through these set of doors into a more intimate chamber. It was designed to look like your own mini-workshop. Your task was to make a simple toy and then wrap it up in the most creative way possible. Esme, and I, know our basic spells. However, she is much better at them. The trick is not to rely on using magic for most of your construction, and I forgot all about that because I got too nervous. You are timed, you see, and though I knew I was going to make a train set my mind just…blanked out. I saw the timer running down and panicked.”

         Melvin sighed in dismay.

         “My train was a mess, and I could sense the disappointment from the unseen judges, probably Santa himself. I fled before they could say anything, but ended up running into Esme’s section and caught the tail end of her audition. You see, when an elf is finished with their gift, you have to leave a spell of good will to whoever is going to receive it. Esme’s toy was a lovely set of dolls hugging each other, and I could catch the tail end of her spell which was…”

         Enough to make him want to cry back then and now.

         It was the dawning realization that he would no longer have Esme at his side, and though she could visit from time to time, she would now be a permanent resident of The North Pole until…

         “Until you work hard enough to be with her again,” Millie stated with a reassuring pat on his shoulder. “You’ve got that as your goal now, Melvin. So, wipe those tears and get to practicing for next year, all right? You don’t want some other elf stealing your girlfriend, do you?”

         Melvin’s cheeks burned. “She’s not my…!”

         “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Millie replied with a smirk. She finished the last of her cheese and belched rudely, earning a scowl from her companion. “Now go congratulate her and stop sulking. You’re ruining my Christmas.”

         “Melvin?” came the sudden shy call of his name as both looked down to see Esme peeking into the storeroom. “Are you in here?”

         Millie winked at her bashful companion and turned away to head home, but not before using her tail to whack him off his perch, where his squeal of indignation would leave her chuckling in wicked delight.







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Word Count: 1100
Prompt: 11. Can't Help My Elf! Write a holiday-themed vignette (1100 words or less) featuring an elf auditioning to be one of Santa's elves. What does the audition entail? Does the elf get a callback? Or do they keep waiting tables in Tinseltown? Link the static item/book entry.
Written For: "12 Days Of Christmas 2024"