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Bk. 1, Ch. 3.1: The chicken chase

  Lacey was still mulling over the meeting in the Reindeer Common Room from the night before as she walked over to the toy workshop in the icy dawn of a new day. The morning's breakfast had consisted of steaming waffles topped with chocolate syrup and cream, rounded off with gingerbread-men cookies and eggnog. Elves must have a different metabolism from humans because if Lacey had a breakfast like that on Earth, she would be useless for the rest of the day. She hoped she could transition back to normal food if she ever got back home. Her thoughts were interrupted by a dishevelled elf racing past her and down the street.

  ‘Help!’ he called out, his voice echoing against window shutters of the cottages on either side. ‘The French hens have flown the coop! Help!’

  ‘Oh, Santa’s beard, when it snows, it storms!’ Melo appeared from a sidestreet just as Lacey was about to cross the intersection. Wheeling around, he grabbed her and said, ‘Come girl, come! We need to catch those French hens!’ Together, they dashed down the streets, following glimpses of the screaming running elf as he careened up and down streets and around corners, presumably hot on the spurs of those hens. Finally, he collapsed onto his knees, looking just about ready to pass out in the snow. Melo skidded to a stop by him as Lacey also bent over, gasping for breath. He looked about wildly and then shouted, “There!” Lacey could see a light brown bird where he pointed in the distance.

  They dashed off once again. Lacey felt like her chest was on fire, but she kept going. They were getting close enough to hear the hens cluck and screech as they pumped their little legs to stay ahead. But Melo and Lacey were gaining, forcing the birds to jump and flap as they pushed through the building snowdrifts. But hens weren’t made for snow, and Lacey was getting close to the plumpest one of the absconding flock. Desperate, it tried to take off, causing little eddies in the snow as it wildly flapped its wings. But it was too late, and Lacey grabbed the hen, lifting it above her head in triumph. The hen proceeded to peck angrily at Lacey’s fingers, forcing her to hurriedly adjust her grip.

  ‘You got her! Good!’ Melo was puffing as he caught up with Lacey, a hen under each arm.

  ‘I got her? You got both of the others; how did you do it?’

  Melo laughed, the sound rumbling out from deep in his stomach. ‘Well, little Aurora city girl, I’ve been running down birds ever since I could crawl. My mom used to say I might as well have hatched with the other chicks!’

  ‘I can tell, that’s an impressive catch.’

  ‘Let’s get them home before they cause more trouble. The last time they were out for the morning in winter, we had to get the little ‘uns to comb through the snow for their eggs. We kept finding frozen eggs all through the spring thaw.’ Lacey laughed at the visual as she followed Melo to the hen house.

  ‘I’m sorry Jinxy is missing,’ she said while they walked. Melo’s shoulders slumped. Sensing an opportunity, the hens started struggling, but Melo clamped down on their insurrection by tightening his hold with practised ease. ‘Do you also think she went hiking alone?’ Lacey continued.

  ‘You know, Lacey, that’s what everybody’s been saying, but they are wrong. Jinxy and I were going to meet after work. She would’ve taken me with her when we met up if she had wanted to take a walk. We often do that, you know. Take a walk before we have a drink. Or after. It just depends on the light and the season. She wouldn’t have gone without me.’

  ‘People also say that she was very absentminded. Could she have forgotten?’

  ‘Is,’ Melo corrected. ‘Don’t you go talking in the past now. Yes, she forgets many things and gets distracted by every bird, feather, and butterfly, but we always do the twilight walks together.’ He sighed, chewing on another thought. ‘It’s just that we can’t find her anywhere else. So she must’ve gone for a walk. But why would she go for a walk without me? But at the same time, she isn’t in the village.’

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  ‘Are you sure she’s not in the village, though? I mean, if you know she wouldn’t go for a walk without you, then she can’t have left. Have you looked everywhere?’

  ‘Why yes, we looked everywhere. We looked in the workshop, the reindeer compound, the cookie and toy component factories, the infirmary, her house, the logging mill, everywhere!’

  Lacey mulled it over. The places he named were all public. Could Jinxy be in a private place, on someone’s property? But Peter had asked everyone last night to look around their homes, too, so they all knew. But wait. They were assuming that all the villagers knew that Jinxy was missing. But were they?

  ‘Does everyone know that she is missing?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course they do. We were all at the Reindeer Room last night.’

  ‘Oh, I was just wondering whether she might be with someone at their house.’

  Melo stopped with a puzzled expression. “What would she be doing in someone’s house for all this time?”

  Seduced, kidnapped, murdered? Lacey quietly thought to herself. Or just distracted, she amended, since it was Santa's Village. It didn’t really matter, did it. They still had to find her. But obviously, those possibilities haven’t crossed anyone’s mind out here. It was such a different place than on Earth.

  ‘Maybe she went to visit someone and lost track of the time? We’re assuming that everyone knows already, and they may not even have realised that people are looking for her yet,’ Lacey tried to frame her suspicion more innocently.

  ‘You know, you’re right. Maybe I should knock on the doors of the ones that don’t get out that much. Maybe they know something.’

  ‘I can help you.’

  ‘That’ll be great. Ah, here’s the coop. Let’s drop these hens, and then we can start our own search.’

  The chicken coop turned out to be another revelation in and of itself. The term “chicken coop” could, at best, be interpreted as inaccurate and, at worst, as insulting. This was no ordinary chicken coop. It was more of a crazy, candy stripe-coloured mish-mash conglomerate that was part chicken coop, part dovecote and part aviary. Melo led Lacey through the crazy structure to the hen house section, where nesting areas, separated by dividers, lined three tiers of shelves. The three French hens happily reoccupied their individual spaces, completely belying the earlier urgency with which they fled the coop. Leaving the crazy coop, Melo and Lacey didn’t get far before a different voice called. It was Peter, marching towards them through the snow. Lacey’s heart quietly skipped a beat. She had missed seeing him this morning in Mathilda’s kitchen.

  ‘Ho Melo, ho Lacey,’ he called. ‘Where are you two headed this morning?’

  ‘Ho Peter,’ Melo responded, briefly filling him in on their idea.

  ‘Why yes, good thinking! How about we split up? Melo, why don’t you take Farmer Barnes and the reserve elves? Lacey and I can drop by Widow Bonbon and Old Man Trouble. We can meet up by the reindeer pen afterwards.’

  ‘Sounds good. I’ll see the two of you again in a little bit then,’ he said, walking off into the snow.

  ‘Old Man Trouble?’ Lacey asked with a raised eyebrow. ‘That doesn’t sound like a pleasant man.’

  ‘What gave it away?’ Peter said with a sardonic grin. ‘But, yes. And also, he won’t be our biggest problem. Melo and Widow Bonbon have a standing disagreement about who has the better eggs – his hens or her ducks. That’s why I thought it would be better if you and I covered that angle.’

  ‘I’m surprised you’re taking me along.’

  He coughed a little, looking out into the distance. ‘Well, the Old Man does get a bit unnerved in female company. And since you’re a new elf here, you can distract Widow Bonbon from the topic of eggs. So you see, you’re a weapon of sorts.’ Lacey had been described as many things in her life and work. Weapon was a new one. If it meant she was included in the investigation, she was all for it.

  ‘Weapon, you say? You mean I need to wield my feminine wiles?’ She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She’d meant it as a joke, but now it added a whole new layer to her conversation with Peter.

  ‘Oh no. No wiles are needed. You only need to stand there, and I’ll do the rest. Your mere presence will be enough to fluster them.’ Lacey breathed a small sigh of relief. ‘Although, I wouldn’t mind seeing some wiles sometime,’ he said with a little wink and held out his arm for her. Since the earth didn’t open up to swallow her, she hooked her arm in his and hoped he didn’t notice the blush she felt. Maybe Widow Bonbon had enough duck stories lined up to make him forget she ever spoke of her feminine wiles.

  ??????

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