The Day That Ryker Saved Christmas
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| Illustrations by Gregory V. Murphy |
It is a little known fact that Santa’s Workshop runs on two
things: cookies and love. With cinnamon
and powdered sugar in the air, all of the elves in Santa’s Workshop munch on snicker
doodles, sugar cookies, chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter cookies – all of
the cookies you could imagine, in fact – to give them energy to work all day
and all night. Filled with sweet cookie
goodness, the elves paint with their little brushes and hammer with their
little hammers, crafting the dreams of little boys and girls around the
world.
And, of course, everyone knows that Santa eats all of the treats
left for him on Christmas Eve, rubbing his warm tummy as his magic
reindeer pull his red sleigh through the starry night skies. At the North Pole, however, love is even more
important than cookies. Love powers the
lights and the machines in Santa’s Workshop, shining and twinkling and gluing
and cranking at the North Pole.
Love gives Santa’s Reindeer the power to fly, lifting their hooves from
the ground on Christmas Eve and even on very special occasions. In fact, love
gives Santa Claus his jelly belly, his rosy cheeks, and his boisterous
laugh. Christmas depends on love.
Just a few nights ago, Santa was sitting in his cabin by a
warm, crackling fire, checking his Naughty and Nice Lists.
“Dainan,” he said to himself, “well Dainan has been very
nice this year…”
“…and Daiya, well Daiya is always nice…”
“…and Edward, Edward goes on the nice list, of course…”
“Ryker...” Santa paused. “Hmm…Ryker Samuel Murphy…well that’s funny, I don’t remember
what Ryker has done this year.”
Santa put down his Lists to think, and as he did, he picked
up the newspaper that sat next to his hot cocoa. He read through the headlines: “Little Boy Blue Steals Dolly from Little
Miss Muffet,” “Peter Pan Lures
Captain Hook into Crocodile Trap,” and
“Grinch Releases Plans to Steal Christmas Next Year.” As Santa read, his eyes grew gloomy, and the
lights in the workshop began to flicker. Startled, Santa’s elves stopped
working and watched as the North Pole went completely dark – Santa was losing
hope! The elves began to gasp and
whisper as they watched Santa’s belly full of jelly disappear as Santa became a
skinny, scraggly old man. With their
faces grim and their tools stopped, the elves stared at Santa as he looked up
from the paper with tears in his eyes.
“Where is all of the love this Christmas?” he asked. The
elves sat in silence. A chill began to
whisper around the edges of the Workshop.
Then, Santa had a brilliant idea. He needed to go down to Ryker's home town to
find out if Ryker belonged on the Nice List or the Naughty List, and as he
watched Ryker, he could find out if there was love in the world this
Christmas.
Santa walked across the velvety red room and opened a small
cabinet under the fireplace, behind the last stocking on the left. Out of the cabinet, he pulled a sparkly blue
vial and turned to Jovial O’Hannigan, the head elf.
“In a few minutes,” he said, “I need you to take me south and
leave me next to the creek. My reindeer
should have enough energy in their boots to get you there and back.”
“But Santa,” started Jovial, but she could not finish. Before Jovial could blink, Santa had chugged
down all of the blue liquid. Santa
winked, and he began to change. His
hands turned into little brown paws, and his nose turned into a little black
button. His eyes transformed into black
balls and his skin turned into rough brown fur.
As the elves watched, Santa turned into a tiny brown teddy bear, skinny and
with very rough fur. The elves looked at
one another, and they knew what to do. Jovial
picked up the teddy bear, and called out to Rudolph.
“We’ve got to go, Rudy, come on!”
Jovial zipped her warmest winter coat – the one with the
silver bells and big white collar – and jumped into the giant red sleigh. Santa’s Reindeer wished and hoped and loved
as hard as they could, and their hooves floated off the ground.
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| Illustrations by Gregory V. Murphy |
Rustic Rabbit Trail was covered in snow and crackling ice. The branches of the trees hummed under the
weight of the cold wind, and the empty nests of birds shivered in the
cold. The world seemed empty.
Suddenly, a young boy whipped around the corner, the bicycle
wheels beneath him humming on the snow-covered path. A little snow never stopped Ryker, and he
enjoyed the surprise in the faces of adjacent walkers, stunned to see a little
boy on a bike in the middle of winter. Ryker breathed in the icy air and laughed as his nose hairs froze – oh how he loved
the winter!
As he wound around another bend, Ryker noticed something
from the corner of his eyes. He slowed to
a stop and leaned his bicycle against his leg, peering into the reeds next to
the creek. Against the bank, not quite
touching the frozen water, was a skinny teddy bear.
“Well you look cold, little friend!” Ryker picked up the bear and looked around. There were no other kids to be found, no
owners for the lost little teddy bear.
“Here, you’ll be warmer in my bag,” Ryker told the bear, “and
I’ll wrap you up in a blanket at home.
You can stay with me tonight.” As
Ryker tucked the bear into his bag, he wondered what the teddy’s name
was. I’ll
call him Radar, Ryker thought, at least until I find out his real name. In that moment, Ryker squeezed Radar with a strange feeling that the little bear grew a bit fatter in his
hands.
Jumping back onto his bike, Ryker pushed himself further
down the path, gaining momentum as he rode toward home. The wind whipped his face, and Ryker enjoyed
the cold air as home drew closer.
Turning onto Mainstreet, Ryker looked down as he passed an old man that
was leaning against a trash can. The
man’s clothing was tattered and his face was harsh from the winter cold. That
poor old man looks hungry, Ryker thought, and cold. Ryker stopped his
bike and pulled out a granola bar and an old sweatshirt. He set them next to the old man, who looked
at the sweatshirt and back to Ryker.
“For me?” said the old man.
“Only if you like them,” said Ryker. The old man smiled, and Ryker returned to
his bike, noticing a new glimmer in Radar's eyes. Strange,
thought Ryker, and he continued toward home.
Riding up the hill on Steep Mountain Avenue, Ryker slowed as he
approached his house. He leapt off his
bike before reaching a complete stop, set the bicycle against the garage, and hopped
up the front steps with his bag under his arm.
Pulling the door, Ryker noticed that his mom was already asleep on the
couch. He glanced around the room,
spotting a warm brown blanket on the chair next to the TV. Pulling the blanket from the chair, Ryker floated the warmth over his sleeping mother, feeling her breath grow
deeper. Again, he thought that he felt
the teddy bear grow a little fatter.
Looking down at Radar, Ryker noticed that the small teddy eyes were
noticeably twinklier, his stuffing had grown fuller, and his fur seemed
softer. Hmm, thought Ryker, that’s
strange. Shrugging his shoulders, Ryker walked to his bedroom.
Ryker climbed the ladder into his bed, up and up and
up. His dad had built him an extra tall
set of bunk beds so that Ryker could feel like he was on top of the world each
night before bed. In fact, the bed was
so tall that Ryker could graze the ceiling with his fingertips. Ryker wrapped Radar in a blanket and pulled
his bag to his chin, searching the interior.
“Ah-ha!” Ryker exclaimed, pulling out a box of Red Jollies.
Ryker opened the box, gave Radar the first candy, and popped two Jollies
into his own mouth.
“Don’t worry,” he told Radar, “they’re not spicy.” Ryker settled into bed, wondering where his
dreams would carry him – maybe to California or France or even Singapore. Reaching for the box of Red Jollies, Ryker felt
his elbow knock against the teddy bear, and he gasped as Radar tipped over the edge
of the bed.
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| Illustrations by Gregory V. Murphy |
“NO!” yelled Ryker. Without
stopping to think, Ryker threw his body over the edge of the bed, chasing
after Radar and the Jolly. Radar and Ryker tumbled together for what felt like several minutes. However, as they fell, something very strange
happened. The teddy bear grew and grew
and started to turn red and started to grow a beard! Before they hit the ground, the teddy bear
had turned back into Santa, big and fluffy, arms wrapped around Ryker, pulling
Ryker into his belly so that Ryker would not hit the hard ground.
“Ryker Samuel Murphy,” said Santa, “you just risked your life to
save a teddy bear.” Ryker stared at the
fat man in red. The two sat in silence.
“Well, I know that you can talk,” said Santa, “I heard you
speak to me and to the elderly gentleman by the trash can.”
“But…” started Ryker, “but you’re….you’re…”
“Santa Claus. Yep, that’s right.”
“But…why? And…how?” Ryker was stunned.
“Well, it’s simple really,” said Santa, “you’ve just saved Christmas.” Ryker's eyebrow furrowed.
“I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” said Ryker.
“Nope,” said Santa, “you’ve shown me that there is a lot of
love in the world. You saved a scared,
cold teddy bear from the winter ravages.
Then, you gave a needy man warmth and food. Then, you pulled a warm blanket over your
mother. And then, you leapt off a ledge
to save your new friend.” Ryker shook
his head.
“No, I was just doing the right thing,” he said, “there
is nothing heroic about that.” Santa
explained that the North Pole and Santa’s Workshop lived off of the love in the
world and that love had been in limited supply.
He explained that he had felt helpless and hopeless before he came to see
Ryker. He explained that Ryker had
just proved that love still existed and that Ryker had brought Santa and his Workshop
back to life.
“You single-handedly saved Christmas,” said Santa, “and you
are definitely on the Nice List.” Ryker smiled.
“But, here’s the thing,” said Santa, “I have a favor to
ask. You see, there are whispers that
Mr. Grinch may be plotting to ruin Christmas next year, and I need to find a
little boy who might be willing to help save Christmas again. Do you know anyone who might be up to the
task?”
Ryker thought, his lips pursed in concentration. “Well I have this friend Joey who…”
Santa laughed. “No no, you goofball, I meant you.”
“You want me to help save Christmas next year?” Ryker asked
happily.
“Absolutely,” said Santa, laughing with his hands on his
belly. Ryker thought for a moment and
nodded with a big toothy grin.
“Excellent!” said Santa. He pulled a cell phone from his
pocket and handed it to Ryker. The
phone looked like Christmas – red and green and shiny. “Here,” he said “you’ll need this.”
With that, Santa jumped from the ground. “Now, I have some Lists to finish!” Hooves
clopped above Ryker's head, and Santa put his finger to his nose. Winking, Santa vanished right before Ryker's eyes, and the hooves pattered away into the distance. Ryker jumped to the window and looked up
just in time to see a tiny red light fading into the distance. “Keep that phone
on and ready!” he heard. Ryker smiled.
“Baby, what are you doing out of bed?” Ryker whipped around and saw his mother
standing in his bedroom doorway.
“Oh, nothing much,” he said, turning back to the window,
“just saving Christmas.”
