Lost

‘This isn’t right. I’m pretty sure a 78-year-old woman lives here,’ the plump, old man said as he pulled a skateboard out of his red velvet sack. Bending at the waist, he looked under the Fraser fir’s boughs and saw only a faded quilted tree skirt. He looked at the skateboard again and squinted through his glasses, shaking his head. 

‘Are you sure? Maybe she has grandchildren living with her,’ squeaked the smaller man, dressed head to toe in green, crushed velvet, like a funkadelic frog.

‘No. She lives alone. Carole Waleshka. I gave her a flute the year she was nine...in 1953. No grandchildren.’

‘Perhaps she is caring for extended family now,’ said the old man’s companion then, consulting the computer tablet he held, he added, ‘The Gift-a-tron says 12-year-old boy, skateboard and 8-year-old girl...’

‘There are no children here, Wink. That thing is wrong.’

‘It can't be wrong. We just installed the upgrade. All the stress testing and simulations. No errors! There must be a child here. We should leave the skateboard,’ Wink replied, his voice creeping up into a panic.

‘Argh! Wink, Carole will not want a skateboard. Trust me. She'll just break a hip.’

‘Well…now what? Where are we supposed to deliver the skateboard and,’ Wink paused and consulted the tablet again, 'the jewelry making kit?'

Rubbing the back of his neck the old man thought for a second. 'We should figure out where we are. What is the address on her AARP magazine?' he asked, pointing at the neat little stack of periodicals on the coffee table.

The diminutive elf picked up the topmost magazine and turned it over to read the address label. '12 Rosecrest Avenue'

'Oh, no! That is completely on the wrong side of town. How did we end up here?'

Wink gave an anxiety laden shrug, looked at his tablet again, and began tapping on its screen surface. 'The Gift-a-tron should be able to reroute us.'

'Pff. I don't trust that thing. We need to fall back on the old way of doing things. We delivered gifts before we bought that crappy system. Let’s just do what we used to do.'

Sighing, Wink dropped his arms to his side, and whined, 'Sir, that won't work. We didn’t bring the Naughty and Nice list. That was the whole point of the Gift-a-tron; to streamline.'

The old man peered over his halfmoon reading glasses at his travel companion and asked, 'Humph. Let me see that thing.’

Wink held out the Gift-a-tron to the larger man, who leaned the skateboard against the tree and took the tablet with both hands. Staring intently at the screen, he finally said, ‘Ah, I see the problem. The thingy-bob confused the addresses.’

Removing his scarlet and white fur lined cap, the old man turned slowly, scanning the room. His eyes brightened as they fell upon a black cylinder on a small side table. 'Alexa, how do we get from 12 Rosecrest Avenue to 12 Rosemont Avenue?'

A blue light whirled around the top of the black cylinder, signaling the activation of the electronic assistant. A pleasant female voice responded, 'To get to 12 Rosemont Avenue from your current location, take Interstate 94 North to Interstate 55 West and exit at 287, South Pulaski Road. Rosemont will be a quarter of a mile on your right.’

‘There, we have directions. Back up the chimney, Wink.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Placing his hat back on his balding head and laying his finger on the side of his nose, the old man and the little elf found themselves on the roof of Carole Waleshka's home again. Slinging the velvet bag into the sleigh, the jolly man said, 'Let's head to the other side of town and pick up where we left off with our list.'

Nodding in agreement, his small companion climbed into the sleigh, consulted his tablet again, and turned to look in the velvet bag. 'Oh, no, we left the skateboard in the house.'

Taking up the reins, the old man replied, 'That's okay. We can pick up a puppy at PetCo on the way to Rosemont. The lad had that on his list too. His mother won't be thrilled, but he was a very good boy this year.'

Early the next morning, Carole Waleshka rose to find a fresh dusting of snow over the neighborhood. Scrunching her feet into her slippers she headed to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and a few eggs, so she could sit and watch the cardinals at the bird feeder while eating her breakfast. She thought they resembled little flying bits of gift wrap ribbon and always reminded her of the excitement of Christmas morning, opening presents. As she walked past the living room, she glanced at her small, but well decorated tree and couldn't believe what she saw. 'Oh, Santa. How wonderful, you brought me a skateboard!'