[Vfw-times] do not open until Christmas

[Oren Otter]

Merry Christmas, everyone!
This is my Christmas present to all of you.


The Changing Workplace
The Tenth Reindeer
By Oren Otter

	It was midnight on Christmas Eve.  Of course, it had been midnight for
some time.  My friends and I were flying a twisting, winding course which
took us from pole to pole once every sixty minutes, meaning that we would
be keeping pace with midnight for about twenty-four hours.
	My friends and I are Santa's reindeer.
	That's not to say that we were always Santa's reindeer.  Oh, no.  In fact,
we're normally not reindeer at all.  We're office workers.
	I'm a paper-pusher at a company called the Transformation Simplification
Agency, or as we often like to call it, "The Changing Workplace".  We do
paperwork for other businesses who deal with transformation.  It's a
strange place, to be sure.  The day I applied for my job, I spontaneously
turned into a three-foot river otter.  Not that I mind.  My friends were
each similarly affected by their jobs.  Sort of a fringe benefit, I
suppose.  Chris got changed into a fox by the curse of the Metamor Keep
archives.  Nathan, I think, fell prey to a scientific experiment.  He goes
by the designation W.O.L.F. 0013.  A freakish thing, he is, with four arms
and bat wings.  Gornul is a big blue dragon.  Dan is a raccoon.  Qualin is
a sort of silvery blob which can flow into whatever shape he wishes.  It's
bizarre.
	Then, one day last week, I was given an unusual assignment.  I was given
the job of working on Santa Claus' veterinary bills.  Because the reindeer
change into kangaroos during their delivery to Australia, they needed
booster shots for the kangaroo flu.
	I didn't know about the clause in the contract which requires compensation
should the reindeer actually CATCH the kangaroo flu in spite of their
shots.  That compensation would have to come from our company.
	Which meant providing replacements for the reindeer.
	Which meant US.
	One moment I was sitting in the cafeteria sipping coffee with fish juice.
The next, I was a Donner lookalike and on my way to the North Pole.
	My supervisor, Fox Cutter, had selected nine people, including himself.
There was Qualin, the friendly raccoon, Linnaeus, W.O.L.F. 0013, Dan,
Gornul, a shapeshifter named Light, Gornul, myself, and playing the part of
Rudolph, Chris O' Kane, the archive keeper.
	And all nine of us were having a blast.

	It's fun enough when you get to warp time and fly around the world and
multiple times the speed of sound with nothing between you and the night
but a harness and sleighbells.  Add to that the joy you know is going to
come to little children's faces because you were there the previous night.
Add the wonder in people's voices every time you hear the phrase "I hear
reindeer on the roof!"  Add the amazement on the face of each person who
spots you.  Add the wonder you feel upon discovering that the air force
just gave you an honorary escort.
	And then, of course, there was that little thing we did as we flew over
Saddam Hussein's palace.  That wasn't so nice, but it brought a smile to MY
face.
	

	It came as a great surprise to me to discover that Santa didn't just
deliver toys on Christmas Eve.  As often as we stopped at a house or
apartment to deliver goodies, we would stop in some of the most unexpected
locations for another purpose.  On a number of occasions, we would stop at
a homeless shelter, right in plain view of everyone, while Santa went
inside and delivered meats and fruits and warm blankets and who knows what
else.
	That's Santa for you.  Still has that soft spot for the poor from back in
his days as a bishop.  Of course.  It was that very thing that made him
Santa Claus.

	But even Santa doesn't know everything.  There are always children who are
overlooked, even by the most careful eye.
	So we thought.
	It was about halfway through our run, and we were delivering presents to
poor families in eastern Germany.  It was during a stop at a particularly
large orphanage that we saw him.  Santa had exchanged his coat for a robe,
the better to be recognized by the European Children, and left us on the
lawn.  He must have been gone for some time.  You can do that when time is
irrelevant.
	Gornul was the first to see him.  "Hey guys," he said.  "There's somebody
watching us from over in the bushes."
	"Chris," called Fox as he craned his big caribou neck for a better look.
"Shine your nose over that way."
	Chris complied, and smiled at what he saw.  It was a little boy, no more
than ten.  He kept his nose dimmed so as not to frighten the child.  He
didn't seem the least bit hesitant, however.  Once he saw that he had been
spotted, he came slowly but steadily toward us.
	"Ich kann dieses nicht glauben!" he exclaimed as he reached out to pet
Linnaeus' nose.  "Bist du wirklich hier?  Bist du wirklich mit Sankt Niklaus?"
	"Um... I'm sorry." said Linnaeus.  "I don't speak German."  He looked over
to Qualin for help, but his partner was equally clueless.
	"He says he can't believe it!" I called back over my shoulder.  "He wants
to know if we're real, and if we're really with Santa Claus."
	"You speak German?" asked Dan.
	"A little bit." I replied.
	"You speak English." said the boy.  "I speak English.  I learn from
American GI joes.  I..." and then he dissolved into a coughing fit.  As
soon as he was done, his eyes closed and he dropped to his knees in the snow.
	WOLF 0013, who was closest to the boy, wanted to reach out and help him,
but found himself unable to do much of anything because of the harness
holding him in position.
	It was Light who provided the solution to that.  Being, unlike the rest of
us, a natural shapeshifter, she shrank considerably, assuming an almost
human, but still reindeer form.  She slipped out of the harness and walked
around the rest of us to help the boy up.  Seeing that he was freezing, she
snuggled him to her warm fur.
	"Why didn't I think of that?" Qualin asked himself.
	"Because if you went liquid, you'd freeze into a popsicle in nothing
flat." Linnaeus offered.
	"Oh yeah."
	Reaching out with one somewhat-human hand, she began to undo the harness
from the rest of us.
	Freed from our restraints, the nine of us crowded around the boy, offering
him warmth and generally fussing over him.
	"What's your name?" asked Gornul.
	"Jurgen.  Yours is Blitzen, right?"
	With a smile, Gornul explained how we were the "B" team of reindeer, and
introductions were made.
	"What are you doing out here in the cold all by yourself?" asked Dan.
	"I have no home." said Jurgen, plainly.
	"What about your family?"
	"I have no family."
	"If you have no family," said Fox Cutter.  "Shouldn't you be in the
orphanage?"
	Jurgen shook his head.  "If I go into the orphanage, I will never come out
again.  I am too old to be adopted.  I'll be trapped there until I grow up."
	"You'll die out here in the cold if you stay out on your own."
	Jurgen didn't answer for a moment.  Then he said "What if I was a
reindeer, like you?"
	It was at that precise moment that Santa Claus returned to his sleigh.  He
seemed not the least bit confused to see the lot of us unhitched.  He
simply walked up and asked "Hello, who's this?"
	"His name is Jurgen." said Qualin.  "He wants to be a reindeer."
	Santa gave a hearty belly laugh and said "Does he, now?  Let me see...
Jurgen Kelbet."  He produced a small piece of paper from a pocket inside
his robe.
	"I don't have a family name anymore." said the boy.
	"Oh, but you used to!  Up until your folks passed away last spring.  You
used to write to me every month of the year, then suddenly, nothing.  I was
beginning to wonder what happened to you."
	"You did?"
	"But tell me, Jurgen.  What would you like for Christmas this year?"
	"I want to be a reindeer." said Jurgen.  "Just like these."
	Santa laughed loudly once again, then took a bit of powder out of his robe
and sprinkled it over the boy.  Immediately, he sprouted thick, course fur.
 As he fell to all fours, his clothing vanished, and soon, a handsome
caribou buck with newly forming antlers stood where the human boy had been.
	Santa invited the reindeer Jurgen to come along with us.  He had him ride
in the sleigh until he had a feel for what was currently a rather awkward
body.
	Eight hours later, we were passing over the forests of Colorado.  It was
there that Santa took a note from his coat pocket (he had changed his
garments back) and read aloud.
	"Dear Santa
	My name is Emily and I am eight years old.  For Christmas, I don't want
toys.  I want a real live reindeer.  I would take very good care of him and
love him and feel him and tuck him in at night.  Thank you.  Love, Emily."
	"Das ist ganz suss." said Jurgen."
	"HA HA HO!  I suppose it is rather sweet at that.  Hmmm... now where can I
find a reindeer?"
	"You have nine right out there." said Jurgen, pointing forward with a hoof.
	"Ah, yes," said Santa, bringing the sleigh down, carefully.  "But they all
have jobs and families to go home to.  I need someone who doesn't have a
home or a family or a job."
	Jurgen could see where this was going.  He looked rather frightened.  When
I glanced back at the sleigh, I could see that Jurgen looked ready to jump
right out.
	I hoped he could fly.
	Turning my attention back to the front, I could see a festively lit
cottage out in the middle of the woods, its snow-covered roof tinged pink
by the light of Chris' nose.  We were landing on a lower roof, where a
balcony stretched out to meet a sloping hill.  Looking through the window,
I could see that we had been spotted.
	Jurgen was not waiting around to be given away like a toy.  He jumped from
the sleigh.  At the same instant, a little girl, presumably young Emily,
came rushing out onto the balcony.  A second later, her parents followed.
	Jurgen couldn't run.  He had no experience working four lags and was soon
tripping over himself and falling to the deck.
	Emily rushed up and wrapped her arms around Jurgen's neck.  "Oh, Santa!
Thank you! Thank you!  What's his name?"
	"I am Jurgen." said the boy deer.
	"You talk!  Oh, please say that you'll stay here with me and be my friend
and I'll love you forever and ever and I'll be just like your big sister
and we'll always be the bestest of friends!"
	Jurgen's resolve was melting.
	"Well, I don't know..." said Santa.  "What would your parents say?"
	Mom and dad exchanged glances and let go a "fine by us", though it was
obvious that neither one of them really believed that this was happening.
	"Well, now," said Santa with a chuckle.  "There's still Jurgen to be heard
from.  What do you think?  Would you like to stay here with a home and a
family and a little girl to be your best friend?"
	"Oder Du wirdst Mir zuruck zu d' Jugendherberge tragen?" asked the young
buck.
	"No." Santa said so softly that only our sharp animal hearing could
register his voice.  "I won't drag you back to the orphanage if you refuse.
 It's your choice."
	"I think... I'll stay." he answered.
	Emily hugged her new reindeer once again.  "Oh, thank you, Jurgen!  Thank
you Santa!"
	When he came back to the sleigh, Santa said "And thank you, my friends,
for doing two little children a great service.  Now DASH AWAY!  DASH AWAY ALL!
	Suffused with the sense of a great good accomplished, our team rose into
the air to finish our rounds.
	It was one in the morning when we left the island of Guam and headed back
to the north pole for the final time.  Once there, we were changed once
again into our "normal" selves, and given nice hot cups of cocoa to warm
ourselves by before the trip home.
	"Santa was so nice to us during that whole thing." said Qualin as he
absorbed some cocoa into his fluid matrix.
	W.O.L.F. 0013 nodded his head in agreement as he put two arms around his
knees and leaned on a third.  "It's almost as if he knows what its like to
be transformed into a caribou."
	I knew why, too.  I'd heard strange noises coming from the next room, and
had finally figured them out.  "I suspect it's because..." I said as I
opened the door into Santa's office.  There stood a magnificent reindeer
buck in a fuzzy red hat and coat.  "...Santa is a closet reindeer!"
	Santa the reindeer smiled the smile of one who had been caught dancing to
the radio.
	The next day was Christmas, of course.  Then the day after that, it was
business as usual.  Typing.  Filing.  Mailing.  Calling.  And of course,
there was that little trip back in time.  Now I'm sitting here at my
keyboard trying to think of a way to explain why there are an otter and a
dragon in the lobby nativity.


-Oren the Otter
8=-3
tlhaQ biQ Ha'DIbaH
The Changing Workplace: http://www.geocities.com/duster_skunk/strips.htm