Arthur Christmas by Justine Fontes Page B

this. It would take such a load off his mind.”
    Focused on the mission, Bryony asked, “So what are your orders?”
    Arthur looked blank.
    Bryony sighed. “You’re a Claus. You give the orders.”
    â€œDo I?” Arthur fumbled. “Oh … um … I’m just happy being an elf, really. You know, just … just part of it all!”
    Bryony rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Do you want to order me to go through the cat door?”
    That made sense to Arthur, so he agreed. “Oh. Um, yes! That’s a great idea!”
    The elf squeezed through the small opening, and then peeped out through the mail slot. “Do you want to tell me to let you in?”
    â€œBrilliant,” Arthur agreed gratefully. “Thank you, Bryony.”
    Locks rattled. Then the door opened and … an alarm began to BEEP BEEP BEEP!
    Bryony looked at Arthur, who nodded. The resourceful elf climbed up to the alarm box and with lightning speed wrapped it thickly with bright paper.
    Beep beep beep! The now-muffled alarm whispered.
    Arthur and Bryony crept farther into the house, toward the Christmas tree. Arthur’s eyes grew wide with awe at its twinkling beauty and the excitement of the moment.
    â€œIs this your first time?” Bryony wondered.
    Arthur nodded, and the elf gently took his hand and led him forward toward the pile of presents. In the center, both saw a small bicycle, neatly wrapped in North Pole paper, with a tag that read “De: Santa.”
    Arthur sank to his knees in horror. How could there already be a gift from Santa? And why did the tag read “De” instead of “From”?
    His wide eyes took in other clues to their location. This was not England any more than the Serengeti had been a zoo in France!
    Before Arthur could form a question, the wrapping paper muffling the alarm shook loose and the alarm resumed its full volume BEEP BEEP BEEP!
    WO-WO-WO-WOOF! The alarm woke a small dog that dashed into the room. The dog leaped on one of Arthur’s furry slippers, embracing it passionately.
    â€œHe likes those slippers even more than you do,” Bryony observed.
    Arthur struggled out of a back window, and Bryony slammed it closed on their escape. The dog pressed against the glass, eyes wet.
    Arthur looked down at his slipper, then opened the window and gave it to the love-struck little pooch. “Happy Christmas,” he said. The dog’s tail wagged wildly as its tiny paws closed around its prize.
    As the travelers dashed down the street, Bryony looked around and asked, “When you put the address into the Hoho, what did you see?”
    â€œA list of Trelews,” Arthur recalled. “I just clicked on the first one …”
    At the same moment, both Bryony and Arthur read a billboard: Vota Alealde Domenguez, Para una mejor Trelew!
    Bryony exclaimed, “We’re in the wrong Trelew!”
    Sirens sounded from every direction at once, as police responded to the alarm at 23 Mimosa Avenue in Trelew, Mexico—7,425 miles from Trelew, England.
    When the two reached the sleigh in the alley, Grandsanta pointed up at helicopters. “They’ve been watching us! They’ve seen Evie!”
    Bryony grabbed the Hoho and tuned it to the latest news. A TV reporter announced, “Governments tonight are waking to news of a UFO traveling around the globe at incredible speed. Now suspected to be in Mexico, the clearest sighting of the UFO was at this tractor dealership in Idaho.”
    Bob recalled his “close encounter” with horror. “It had eyes on its feet and a little pointy head! It asked me for a sign!”
    The reporter went on. “And from the trail of destruction left in Toronto, these beings do NOT appear to be friendly.”
    At the North Pole’s Mission Control, Steve watched the same report on his Hoho while surrounded by sleepy support elves.
    As Peter searched the Internet, he, Steve, and the elves,