The Fat Man_ A Tale of North Pole Noir - Ken Harmon [65]
“A cow jumped over the moon,” I lied to Rosebud. “Except she couldn’t jump that high.”
Rosebud was about to paste me again when Butter, Ginger and the rest of the milkmaids and heifers showed up. Rosebud arched an eyebrow at the cowgirl, but Butter ignored her and gave me a big old kiss on what I was sure was going to be my future fat lip.
“Thank you for everything, sugar,” Butter said after giving me what I knew was the kiss of death. “I think our little adventure in the moonlight was plumb perfect!”
If Frosty would have been standing beside Rosebud right then, he wouldn’t just be melted, you could use him to deliver a baby. “Butter here has got a good story for you, Rosebud,” I said. “About milk.”
“And honey?” Rosebud hissed.
By the time I got moving, I had a black eye.
I flew to Misfit Isle. It was the fastest form of giddyup, and there was no more Tiny Tim to run the ferry. I didn’t have time to worry about not having the Cratchit cherub around anymore because there was something fishy going on. The streets of Misfit Isle were deader than Marley’s doornail. There were no Misfits milling about or even peeking from behind the shabby curtains in the windows. In fact, there weren’t even any curtains in the windows. Windows and doors were boarded up and the streets were littered with Misfit junk that suggested that the whole place packed and left in a hurry. It was quiet. Too quiet. Of course, you have to say things like that in a yarn like this, but in this case, Misfit Isle really was too quiet. Fortunately, it didn’t last too long.
“Hello, Gumdrop.”
Santa! Beautiful Santa! Though he still looked tired and wasn’t quite up to fighting weight, Santa was in front of me, dressed in red, with a white beard and a twinkle in his eye that was as warm and bright as Heaven’s porch light. He was OK and I lost about a thousand pounds off my shoulders. “Looks like they canceled the party on us, my lad,” Santa said. “I’ve wandered the whole island and there’s not a soul to be found.”
“You don’t know how glad I am to see you, boss,” I said. “There’s a lot to tell you, but I think the smartest thing we can do is get you off this ice block as fast as we can.” The place did look empty, but I had a feeling that all the Misfits were hiding somewhere. Waiting. It gave me the creeps.
“They’re all gone, Gumdrop,” Santa said. “Seems they had an idea that you were going to spoil their plans. I found this.” Santa handed me a note.
Guten tag, my vittle Gumdrop,
I heard of your dashing escape. The news thrills me on one hand, and causes me much tears on zee other. To me, you have alvays been my pint-size helping of Manschnitzel, so learning of your bravery against zee birds makes my heart beat schnell. But I am also very sad because you did not choose to join me and zee big Tim kinder.
Vee could have been very happy, Gumdrop, a promise I vould have kept to you. But you have scorned me.
You hate Misfits just like everyone else. And before you come here to save Santa and foil my plans, vee are leaving, zee Misfits and I.
Vee vill find a place of our own, vhere vee don’t have to depend upon zee mercy of Kringle Town. You do not have to hunt us, vee will cause no more trouble. But you von’t have zee Misfits to blame for everyzing now. Vhen tings are wrong now, you vill only see yourselves—and vhat Misfits you are too.
P.S. I left another note for Santa and explained how I kaput Raymond Hall.
He now knows you did not do it. I only confess this because I have a heartfull of love for my vittle Gumdrop.
Zsa Zsa
I had to read Zsa Zsa’s note a couple of times to try and sort everything out. Her confession would end up in the paper and I would be in the clear, but somehow I didn’t feel so free. Her words