Fall in Ann Arbor: the days were getting shorter and the leaves were turning colors. Klaus looked out over the farm he had inherited from his adopted father, the farm he had never wanted, but which he had kept working on anyway.
John Wilder Jr., Stephanie’s brother, had announced at church today that he was retiring. John’s sons, John Wilder III and Patrick Wilder, were going to run the farm John had inherited. They were going to build John and his wife Mary a house overlooking the river.
“You know what that means,” Klaus said to Stephanie as they drove their chariot home. “John’s land is above the river. That is right on top of the cave. If John and Mary are going to live there, they are bound to see us going to the cave and back. There is no way we’re going to be able to explain going there day after day and coming back every time with big bags full of presents.”
Stephanie nodded. “We can’t tell John about the cave either. He is my brother and really a good man, but he’s going to want to exploit it for all it’s worth. It will be the end of the cave as we know it.”
They continued the rest of the ride home in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Stephanie made them hot tea when they got back and now they stood on their veranda, overlooking their land.
“I have gotten to love this land,” Klaus said. “I didn’t think I would, but I did. But maybe we need consider moving somewhere else. Somewhere where there are fewer people around, and where we can focus on making Christmas presents.”
Stephanie leaned into him. “Whatever it takes, my love. I was born here, and I always expected to spend all my life here and be buried close to my parents. But if that’s what it takes, we’ll pack up and leave.”
He reached around her and pulled her even closer. “I love you,” he whispered as his lips reached to meet hers. They embraced for a long moment before returning to their cups of tea.
“We need to talk to the cave,” Stephanie pointed out a little bit later. “We need to figure out what it can do to move. There is no point in thinking about any plans until we know what it can do.”
There was not much Klaus could argue with. They got their winter coats and walked down the familiar trail to the cave entrance.
“This place is becoming a problem,” he announced inside the cave. “We will need to move.”
“Where to?” the answer came from all around.
“You mean, you can actually move somewhere else?”
“Yes.”
“Anywhere?”
“Yes.”
“We need to find a place where we won’t ever be detected,” Stephanie interjected. “It feels like people are everywhere now. They’re even talking about traveling to the North Pole.”
“Would it be possible to move to the North Pole?” Klaus asked. “It is probably all ice up there, no rocks or anything.”
“Yes, that would be possible. An installation can be established inside the ice.”
Klaus thought about it. He had asked about the North Pole on a lark, but it would definitely be out of sight of other people.
“How could we live there, on the ice?”
“The quarters could be made quite comfortable.”
“But we would be stuck there, and it would be dark six months of the year.”
“What are the travel possibilities?” Stephanie asked. “Can you make it easy to travel to the pole and back?”
“Flight services will be provided.”
“Flight services? What does that mean? Like a balloon?”
“A transporter much like a boat, but much faster, and it flies through the air. It will be provided for your use, and can also to transport the packages that are manufactured.”
“What does it look like?”
“It can look like anything you want.”
“It should look like a sled,” Stephanie interjected. “It comes from the North Pole, right? So it should look like a sled, drawn by a team of reindeer!”
“OK,” the installation said. And that was that.
Two weeks later, a fancy sled landed in front of the farm house late at night, pulled by six reindeer. Klaus and Stephanie got in, the sled took off, and with amazing speed they moved through the night sky. There was no wind, the seats were soft and they had a comfortably warm blanket around them.
They arrived at the North Pole in a little over half an hour, at what looked like an igloo. Klaus and Stephanie went into the building and down a long flight of stairs hand-in-hand.
“Welcome to Christmas Avenue.”
The voice sounded different than in the cave in Ann Arbor, not as if it came from everywhere. In fact, it had sounded as if the voice came from right behind them.
Klaus turned around and saw a short man with a green outfit and a pointy hat standing behind him.
“Who are you?” Klaus asked.
“Alabaster Snowball, at your service, sir!”
Alabaster was not taller than a seven year old boy, but he was clearly no boy. The face was that of a grown man.
A second small man appeared behind him.
“Bushy Evergreen,” the newcomer introduced himself. “I trust you have had a good flight?”
“The little people!” Stephanie cried out. “You are the little people, aren’t you, like in the legends?”
“Not quite, ma’am,” Bushy replied. “We look like them, but we are not real. We were created by the installation to make your stay more comfortable.”
“So you are what, machines?”
“Yes, ma’am, that is right. We are complex machines, here to serve you.”
“How many of you are there?” Klaus wondered.
“As many as needed. Right now, there are fourteen of us, but if needed, many more can be created.”
Stephanie just shook her head. “Little People,” she murmured. “I always loved the legends of the Little People.”
Albaster and Bushey continued to show them around in the new, much larger installation. There were comfortable rooms for Klaus and Stephanie to live in, a kitchen, and a large library. There was even a garden here, deep under the ice.
“I think this will be quite satisfactory,” Klaus said at the end of the tour, and his wife agreed wholeheartedly.