Happenstance: The Claus Chronicles

By D.R. Strahan

Happenstance is a small town located in an underground ice-enclosed cavern. Two weeks before Christmas, everyone busily completes the final touches on shopping and planning attire, as well as practicing new dance steps for the dinner finale of the year. In anticipation of Santa’s Christmas Eve ride, excitement seems to be everywhere … until Uncle Hermes goes missing. 

 

The door to Mobil Land has been left ajar, and its interior is in shambles. These are not habits Uncle Hermes would abide. Robye Jax is the son of one of Happenstance’s founders. From early childhood, he has been educated in the discipline of scientific expression, so he recognizes the signs. There is no question: the ice moles are on the move.

 

Every twelve years, the ice moles migrate through the cavern walls to reproduce. Forming into colonies of thousands, they activate in sync and begin a chaotic activity called “whorling.” The snow bobbies are capable of detecting the eminent whorling event, and they’ve been sending Robye frantic messages of warning. Oh, yes, Robye knows why Uncle Hermes has gone missing, and he now must get him back before Christmas is destroyed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: May 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781480875586

D.R. Strahan

For Diana Roberts Strahan, the process of developing an idea into a product has always been a passion, whether she is turning a piece of wood into a cabinet, fabric into a dress, or words into a novel. The excitement of the vision brought to reality is the ultimate reward.

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Copyright © 2019 D. R. Strahan.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-7557-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-7558-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019902528

Archway Publishing rev. date: 5/3/2019

Contents

1   Observatory

2   Mystery Lights

3   Heading Home

4   Premonition

5   Sorting Mail

6   The Suit Closet

7   Visiting Old Friends

8   Red Tape

9   The Staff Meeting

10   The Rescue Team

11   Seamstress at Work

12   Peppermint Freeze

13   Gyrosphere Garage

14   Visit to the Cellar

15   An Evening at Home

16   Dark Shadows on the Ceiling

17   Hermes’s Rescue

18   Pamela’s New Shop

19   Gyrosphere Disaster

20   What’s Whorling?

21   Snow Bobbies

22   Santa’s Rescue

23   The Situation

24   Gyrosphere Repair

25   Infestation

26   Back for a Fitting

27   Claudius and the Computer

28   The Glitch

29   Snapshots

30   Curious Accident

31   The Game

32   Ashley’s Findings

33   Studio Visit

34   Ocker Room Ex

35   Popular Slang Phrases

36   Danny Fields

37   Little Black Boxes

38   The Medallion

39   Bubble Boxes

40   Coma

41   House Arrest

42   Sleigh Ride

43   Dinner Dance

44   Incident Report

In

memory of my brother

Paul Estle Roberts

He was the kind of brother a person would choose as a friend.

Acknowledgments

Sharon Gannon, a gifted scholar and professor in the art of expressive reading and creative writing. Her passion has always been to guide others in the art of character and action development through writing.

Jackie Von Murphy, a highly skilled artistic photographer who has the candid ability to capture the feel of life in her subjects.

Jimmi Diane Reeves, whose technical and personal support was beyond reproach.

Loren Sean Strahan, a confidant and collaborator who has a great imagination and creative style when developing locations, actions, and characters.

Paula Griffith. Her technical abilities with electronic rescue were unsurpassed.

Oprah Winfrey, in appreciation of her thoughtful and encouraging comment, It’s the Dickens, referring to my first novel, Throwaways: The Claus Chronicles (According to Me).

1

Observatory

Present Day

R obye Jax, nudged by a faraway, indefinable interference, reached up and pushed his fingertips against the base of his slightly tall ears. He slid them along each edge and then reached up higher, caressing each point. Pausing momentarily, he gazed across the darkened room then scratched the back of his neck and snuggled back into the cozy fetal position. A comfortable sigh of contentment passed his lips, breaking the silence of the room. He closed his eyes, allowing the slight interruption to fade from his thoughts.

Before reaching the nothing level of unconsciousness, he was again irritated by the sound and opened his eyes. Squinting at the precarious flickers of colorful brilliance scattered across the equipment-laden tables, he quickly forced his thoughts into motion. Oh yes, he muttered, glaring back at the multiple screens hanging from the ceiling, the aurora lights event; it’s still going strong. I’m at the observatory, documenting the eleventh-year aurora borealis light phenomenon.

The annoying noise again disrupted his thoughts. Robye reached out, grabbing for his cell phone. His voice sounded hollow as it broke through the silent room. Hello?

Although he was only fourteen, young Robye had been in training for the eleventh-year phenomenon most of his life—a season of raw aurora borealis energy far beyond the norm. This eleventh-year event had been predicted to be far lengthier, as well as overwhelmingly excessive in its show of activity, than past occurrences. Since this energy provided the power source for the town of Happenstance, an unharnessed amount or over-abundance of such energy would naturally intrude on the normally predictable power usage. It could, at a minimum, cause a massive power outage throughout the city. Such an overage had to be controlled and/or stored for later use.

Since early the night before, Robye had been in charge of the system; sourcing, collecting, and documenting, while directing abnormal data to the city power system. And here he was now, asleep at the helm.

The North Pole was known to be a natural collection point for incomplete atoms, the basis for the aurora borealis light phenomenon. Once this raw energy reached a near proximity to the planet Earth, it would magnetically draw toward the poles.

By nature, an atom is composed of protons, electrons, and neutrons. When a basic particle is missing, the atom is incomplete, continuously excitable, and highly volatile. By using this guideline as a determination, we know when bits and pieces or clumps of incomplete atoms break away from the sun’s surface, an explosion naturally follows, one of dynamic proportion and magnitude. This highly volatile breakaway ball of energy will then be hurtled across space at an unfathomable speed. When attracted by the magnetic pull of a near planet, such as the planet Earth, the fragmented cloud of atomic particles may then be drawn toward, and congregate around, either or both of the planet poles.

By light quantum or productive energy, each approximate eleventh year the collection of such energy may be historically determined to become vast, measuring off the scale. This notably conspicuous abundance in measurement, known to produce an abnormal magnetic flux, may tend to become unmeasurably quantified. Not only has such a factor become influential to the power system of Happenstance, but also it may have been previously determined to affect the natural magnetic activity of the planet Earth.

For Happenstance, which is totally dependent on the aurora borealis as a power source, understanding how to control the fluctuations from this continuum sequence of energy has proven to be imperative to the survival, productive growth, and welfare of the city population.

Robye pushed against the desk with his knee and then nodded at the screen he was facing. He reached for the point of his ear, then dropped his hand to his shoulder and pulled his ponytail free, sliding his fingers through the matted locks, hanging below.

Now that the cobwebs of sleep were disappearing, he willed his eyes to stay open. Momentarily observing the scatter of flickering scenes from the various monitors, he visualized a multitude of sparkling stars precariously falling from a jet-black sky. What a strange apparition, he muttered, stretching back to review the scene again.

Oh yes, he muttered, with a slight jar forward. Responsibility began to push through his thoughts, countering his momentary dreamy disposition. I need to check the monitors. Becoming more accustomed to the shadowed surroundings, he whined, again, It sure feels like a long time since yesterday.

After a slight stretch, he pushed a few wispy locks of hair to one side, sliding his fingers through the thickness of his long ponytail again, allowing it to slide across his shoulder and drop forward. And I’ve been here all night, working the …

As if suddenly struck by his misdeed, he cried out, The aurora borealis project! Oh no, I should never have gone to sleep. What if I missed something important? Santa was depending on me to document the power surges and stuff … and … any anomalies, of course, when those lights blasted us last night, and instead, I slept right through it.

Reconsidering the situation, he did a quick check of the time. Four twenty-three in the morning, he thought, breathing out. Um … seven minutes. I was out for seven minutes. Oh, wow, not as bad as my first thought. While shaking his head with a sigh of relief, he rubbed first one cheek and then the other. But, he said out loud, looking toward the monitors, I won’t know for sure—he gave his office chair a turn and then looked up—until I check the logs.

Robye’s thoughts had immediately tuned in to the steady, indistinguishable hum of high-tech electronics permeating the observatory. It was more like a feel than a sound. He gave the roll-around chair another quick push, heading toward another bank of keyboards. One by one, he checked the status of each document, allowing a relieved exhale as he went. Well, how about that? We’re all good—no loss of information.

An urgent ring again broke through the silence.

Oh yeah, and I cut off the phone, Robye murmured, reaching out. What am I thinking? Grabbing toward the noise, he stopped the spin and jammed the phone toward his ear.

Oh, wow, he growled, rubbing at the bruise.

Hullo?

Hearing nothing, he scrunched his small frame into the chair, touching the injured ear again. Hullo. Who is this?

A saucy good morning boomed from the receiver.

Robye’s eyes sprung wide open. The excitement of the noise sailed across the quiet room.

In a high-pitched voice, he blurted out, Oh yes, uh, and a good morning to you, Santa.

Quickly straightening himself upright, he looked toward the screen. Santa’s twinkling eyes were looking back.

Say there, Robye, you seem to be in good spirits this morning, Santa began. And to tell you the truth, he continued, I was a bit concerned about your sleep pattern—the circadian rhythm, you know …

And how it kicks in between 4:00 and 6:00 a.m., Robye growled back. Noticing the tightness in his voice, he said, a bit more relaxed, Yeah, well, you’re right, Santa. I’m afraid it caught up with me. I was out of it for seven minutes. Robye rubbed his eyes then added, So glad you thought to call me, though. Just so you know, I’ve already viewed the recordings and found no anomalies present.

Good to hear, Santa replied. And how has your night been otherwise?

So far, it’s been alright. I’m still at the observatory as you can see. I guess you’ve noticed the aurora borealis aerial show activity on your monitor. It is still in progress and going strong. Quickly recovering from the long night, Robye looked about. He scanned each of the monitor screens and glanced back toward Santa’s image. And I have to say, it has been much more exciting and dramatic than I had ever dreamed.

Santa snickered a bit then added, So, what do you think?

Oh, Santa, I knew it was going to be great by the way you and my dad described it. But I can now understand why the two of you were so adamant about my training for it.

You were a natural, you know? Santa said.

Well, maybe, Robye admitted, hesitating slightly, but you anticipated both my interest and my desire to be involved in the study of the phenomenon. Taking a quick breath, and still quite stilted in his voice pattern, he continued, And it has been an opportunity I will never forget.

Santa grinned at the response.

Out of habit, Robye reached across the desk for the earphones, slipping them across his head. A sharp Ouch! blared out. Sorry about that, Santa. I kind of dinged my ear.

Santa chuckled. I was wondering why it took you such a long time to answer. So, what happened? An argument with the phone, I presume?

Yeah, I’m afraid so.

Hearing the snicker, Robye immediately looked up, laughing at the view facing him. Nice PJs, Santa. He giggled.

Santa automatically reached up, straightening his collar, and sheepishly grinned back. Wishful thinking on your part, I’m guessing?

You’ve got that right, Santa. No matter how exciting the project is, twelve to fourteen hours in a quiet room does make for a long night.

For sure, Robye, Santa said, squiggling his nose, but you needed your reward. An aerial event of this magnitude only happens about once in eleven years. You were little more than two years old when your dad and I studied the last one. After hesitating for a moment, he continued. And speaking of your dad, you were in training even then. I’ll never forget his excitement when he first began teaching you about those lights. I remember how he would call—didn’t matter if it was night or day—and give me a blow-by-blow, so to speak, description of your latest success. On and on he would go, until sometimes I would be forced to hang up on him. Santa hesitated, and then with a giggle he said, Only a time or two, though. We visited often back then, and since the two of you were always together, it was easy to keep abreast of your learning skills. Oh yes, and I remember how he would always laugh, excited as a little kid. ‘See, I told you,’ he would say. ‘My little Robye knows the name of every aurora pattern. Has them memorized, too. He can tell you the names and shapes; he even knows which of the colors will show up as soon as a cloud begins to develop.’ Rather amazing, I think.

Robye leaned back and listened. A smile crossed his face as he reflected on the number of times he had heard the same story.

He would then go through the whole process, Santa continued, pointing out another factor of the aerial display. As the list of aurora sweeps got longer, it became apparent that you knew them all. You recognized the type of formation as it developed on the screen—the waterfall, the curtain, the fan, all of them. Oh yes, and he taught you about the shades and hues of the colors. You were his pride. In all your years, the two of you were always together, with most of your youth spent behind those walls. You two were quite the sight.

Memories of his dad were always in Robye’s thoughts. Nothing seemed to ease the lonely pain in his heart.

Santa continued to talk.

As Robye visualized the events Santa was bringing to surface, Robye began to fidget through all the desk drawers, putting the pads and papers in stacks and straightening the pencils, pens, and erasers, placing them in rows. When there was nothing left to do, he closed the drawers and swept his hand across the counter.

While trying to break the spell of sadness, Robye finally blurted out, I know, Santa. But I was wondering if you noticed how vivid and intense the waves of color are showing on the screen—a truly spectacular sight. Another thing I found really interesting was how those clouds seem to pulse and weave then separate and unite, continuously in tune with, or on the same beat as, each other. It seems almost as if they are alive.

Santa smiled at the thought. Ah yes, you’ve noticed. I have often thought the same.

Robye switched the phone to his other hand and massaged the bruised point of his ear again. Uh-huh, he agreed. It has been as interesting and spectacular as you and my dad said it would be. No disappointment at all.

After a short pause, Santa said, I would imagine you’re exhausted by now. How are you holding out?

Robye blinked a couple of times then dropped his hand to the chair arm. I didn’t spend the whole night alone. I hope you don’t mind. Remember when I asked you—it was a couple of weeks ago, I think—if some of my friends could stop by? A couple of them took me up on the offer.

Santa took a sip of his drink then reached toward his desk. After leaning back, he looked toward the screen. Oh, of course I don’t mind. A bit of company is a great help on a long night. Who were they? Were they friends I’m familiar with?

Oh, sure, Santa, I think you know both of them. You remember Mickey, right?

Santa laughed at his thought. The only Mickey that comes to mind is Mickey Mantle, the baseball player. He was an outfielder for the New York Yankees. Not who you’re speaking of, I suppose?

Robye snickered, ignoring the answer. I know you’ve met him, Santa. I’m talking about my friend Mickey. He’s the short guy with the funny-looking ears.

A moment later, Santa answered, I think I know who you’re speaking of. ‘Funny-looking ears’ is not an appropriate way to describe a friend, though. I believe I saw the two of you a couple of weeks ago. You were wearing a green shirt. His was red, if I remember correctly.

Robye laughed. Did you say red shirt? Yes, probably—his favorite color, you know. Well, he wasn’t too impressed with the northern lights. He called them ‘stuff.’ Can you imagine? I nearly fell off my feet.

I’m not surprised, Santa said, since most of our residents, not only the young, have little interest in the importance of the northern lights to our city.

I know. And anyway, he talked my other friend, Tony, into leaving about half an hour after they arrived. He said they had to be home by ten thirty.

Santa frowned then shook his head.

Robye nodded back. I know, and not a school night either. I was really disappointed.

So, did you have food to offer—you know, chips and fruit—to munch on? Santa asked. That usually works.

Sure did. I had snacks and drinks out and everything.

It could be that maybe they had just finished their meal before the visit, Santa suggested.

Robye hesitated for a moment and then said, I suppose that could be it. I shouldn’t be so hard on them, I guess.

So, how did they like the aurora activity, Santa suggested, on the screens and such?

Well, Robye said somewhat hesitantly, I think they enjoyed it—at first, anyway.

It seems you had a pretty difficult audience. Sorry about that, Robye.

Oh, true, it was a challenge until they started checking out the electronics.

Santa’s smile turned to an expression of caution. I shouldn’t be surprised. Most young people have quite an interest in new technology, especially if they have no training or experience, as well as no idea how delicate it can be.

I know. I had to warn them a couple of times about touching the controls and stuff.

You did explain?

Oh yes, Santa, of course. And after a little coaxing …

Santa looked back toward Robye, pausing slightly. He then said, I do hope your friends didn’t give you any trouble and maybe were open to a bit of your tutoring before exploring any further?

Of course they did. They weren’t pushy or anything like that.

Santa smiled back. So, everything went well?

Oh, sure did. They didn’t give me any trouble at all, once I explained how delicate the equipment was. I kind of laughed when they stood back with their hands in their pockets. It reminded me of when I was little. I remember sitting on my hands so I wouldn’t touch anything. Then I’d be allowed to stay. I think my mom came up with that little trick.

Oh no, not your mom, Robye, Santa twittered. That little trick came from Sara Sue. It was on your third birthday, as I recall. She was having a time trying to finish your birthday cake. She had decided to make little toylike figures out of the frosting, but nearly as soon as one was finished, your little fingers were in the middle of it. She had to do something, so she ended up promising you three of them if you sat on your hands, which you did. You would do anything for her, and those special little figures were great prizes, of course.

Oh well, Robye said. Well, anyway, and then they wanted to know what each piece of equipment was used for and why it was here. All I had to do was explain a little about the function, you know, how and why the cameras were set the way they were—that kind of stuff.

So, you went into teacher mode?

What? Oh yes, I hope you don’t mind. I let each of them adjust a couple of things just to give them a little hands-on experience.

So, how did that go? Santa asked.

Robye wrinkled his nose then finally said, I’ll have to admit, it was a bit of a challenge at first, but I thought their interest deserved the reward.

Did you double-check after the changes were made?

Yes, of course, Santa. I made sure all the changes were according to specifications. Once they realized their lack of skill and understanding of the process, they were more excited about the results.

With a nod, Santa said, Good job, Robye. Those young fellows will never forget the experience, I’m sure.

Oh, Santa, you’ve heard nothing yet. Wait till I get to the good part.

Santa grinned back. With an easy tug at his whiskers, showing mock surprise, he said, What do you mean? There’s more?

Of course there is, Robye said, noting the familiar twinkle in Santa’s eyes. I’m sure you are quite aware. Confirming the specifications was the most important part. And I’m not used to having company; keeping their activities in check was a bit of a challenge. Once the mechanical question and answer session was somewhat taken care of, they started on the visuals. Not only then but also the whole time they were visiting, they were going from one screen to another, asking all kinds of questions about different activities on each of the screens. They wanted to know why each screen showed something different. I hadn’t thought about it until just now, but they may have thought they were watching a movie. Anyway, I went through the explanation of why and how each camera was pointed in a different direction, all placed aboveground. Now the notion of ‘aboveground’ took a lot of explaining and I even pulled out some old books to show them. Since they have never experienced being there, I’m not sure they ever bought any of my examples.

Hmm, a field trip to the top, Santa murmured. It might be a consideration for the teens. I should check on it.

Robye looked back at Santa. Did you say something?

Not really, Santa said, looking up. But think about it, Robye. If you were placed in the same circumstances, any concept you might come up with would be difficult to explain. I’m sure you did the best you could.

Well, I guess, Robye said thoughtfully. I do know it was quite the night for visitors. Those borealis lights put on a spectacular show the whole time my friends were here. Oh yes, and you know all these big screens, the ones you have hanging from the ceiling? You were exactly right about the placement and angle calculations; they were set perfectly for the best view. It felt to me as if we were really standing in the middle of those lights. I found it curious that neither of my friends had ever seen them before.

I’m not at all surprised. I’m sure the lights were a new experience for them, Santa said. Most of our population has no connection with planet surface events like you have, so how would they know?

You think?

Well. Santa laughed. I should remind you about the degree of difficulty you just went through with your friends when trying to explain the concept of ‘aboveground’ to them. I’m sure they have heard and read about it, but being aware is not the same as knowing or believing.

But Santa, Robye argued, those lights are always out there. Everyone knows that.

Not quite true, as I just explained. With a slight grin, Santa ran his fingers through his beard and then sighed, taking a slight breath. He finally said, I must say, Robye, you are no easier to persuade than your friends were.

Sorry, Santa, but it seems to me …

I’m going to interrupt you, Robye, before there is any further discussion.

That’s okay, Santa, Robye began, but I just thought …

Now, Santa continued, I would like for you to keep this thought in mind. As you know, there are different levels of experience when all our senses come into play. To see, to hear, to smell, to taste, and to touch each has a purpose in proving something to be real. A good portion of our population may have seen photographs—pictures in books and such. They may have seen images on their phone or the city screens as well, but at this point an image is a probability, a likelihood, a maybe, etc., but not necessarily a reality or truth. To make something believable, an event in this case, more than one of the senses must be a part of the experience.

So what one sees is not necessarily a truth. I get that, Robye admitted.

Now, as an older pedestrian of this city, Santa continued, I know the aurora lights are real because the activity filled the skies, surrounding us nearly every day of our travels as we crossed the great northern wilderness. This fact makes them real to me.

Like my dad and, um, my mom, uncle Claudius and uncle Hermes. Maybe your Sara Sue too. She’s been up top and seen them, right?

Of course she has, Robye. Santa laughed. Now you’re getting the idea. Not only has Sara Sue been up top, as you call it, but also the borealis lights were quite active when she and I traveled here from Atilla. Quite the trip, as I recall. Sometime later that same year, we exchanged our vows of marriage on the square, right here in Happenstance.

I don’t think I knew that, Santa.

Santa grinned back as he said, It was a bit before your time. Clearing his throat, he added, Now to continue?

Oh yeah, I hadn’t thought about how unusual the viewing of those lights might be to others, Santa. I guess because I’ve always … it just didn’t occur to me. And I’ve never actually seen them either, just photos on the screens and when I use the telescope. And I hadn’t thought about my friends. They have no opportunity to use a telescope every day like I do, either. Now I feel really bad.

Santa looked back, adjusting the collar to his pajamas. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Robye. For a fourteen-year-old, you handled the situation quite well, I believe.

I’m glad you think so. Most of the questions they asked were about the use of the equipment, which was no problem. It was the other stuff; that was where I came up short.

All right now, Robye, back to your night of events, Santa said. It seems I’ve pulled you off track.

That’s okay, Santa. My friends had some really good questions I wanted to tell you about.

All right, and I’ll try not to interrupt. Santa laughed. So, what kind of questions did they come up with?

For example, Robye began, they wanted to know how far the waves of light went up.

Good question to start off with, Santa said. And …?

Robye looked back. I had to think a second before explaining.

Beyond … Santa prodded.

Beyond as far as you can see, yes, I told them, but …

But Robye, there is no other answer they would understand.

I know you’re right, Santa, but I don’t think they got the idea at all.

Santa nodded with a grin, saying, And I’m not surprised.

Oh, and another thing they wanted to know was what made the waves move across the snow and if the snow melted under them, and lots of other questions like that.

Those are very good questions, Robye.

I know, Santa, but when I started to explain, they seemed to lose interest.

And the answers, Santa questioned, how detailed were your answers?

Robye looked back at Santa. You mean the technical explanations? Well, maybe they weren’t detailed enough. I hadn’t thought of it that way.

As you know, Robye, when you speak above the understanding of your friends, they do not want to feel or admit incompetence, especially in front of others. They usually switch the topic to something they know.

I know, Santa, and that is exactly what happened. They found it much more interesting to just watch the show, especially Tony. I had to laugh.

To laugh is good, Santa twittered, what about?

Oh, I’m coming to that. Tony’s eyes were glued to those screens; mine were too, in fact. It was no wonder either. You should have seen the way those lights were spinning and dancing and gyrating across the ground. It was a spectacular show.

I know, Robye. I was watching the same show from here.

Oh, I didn’t think to ask. I should have taken notice. I was guessing you had gone home for a while. Now you’re back at the office, right?

With a sheepish grin, Santa looked back at Robye. I did go back to the apartment and, as you can see, change into my PJs. It was my plan to relax a bit and take a break. After stirrig up a fresh cup of hot chocolate, I changed into my pajamas then snuggled into my robe. Once I was all comfy, I turned on the screen and settled back in the easy chair—all the comforts of home, you know. The longer I sat there, the less content I felt. My screen at home is so small, I felt like I was missing out on the show, you might say. I couldn’t just sit there. I picked up my cup and went into the bedroom, thinking I would ask Sara Sue if she wanted to come back to the office with me, but she was sound asleep. I didn’t want to wake her, so here I am, back to where the action is.

It’s good to have you on the other side of this screen, Robye said, snickering back at the image. Those lights are spellbinding. Oh, and yeah, speaking of that, I never did tell you the good part. Remember?

Not forgotten, only postponed, Santa said, recovering his cup. After taking a sip, he looked up. You’ve got my attention.

Robye nodded. Well, let me see; how do I start? Oh yeah, I had gone to the bathroom and picked up a soft drink on my way back. That’s when I noticed Mickey swaying back and forth in front of one of those big screens. I couldn’t help but ask him what was going on. He said he could feel a rhythm in the waves of color, like they were moving to some kind of music.

Rather interesting theory. Have you tested it? Santa asked.

Not really, but like you say, it might prove interesting, Robye noted. Everything does have rhythm, if you’re in tune to it.

Did someone point this musical theory out to Mickey? Santa asked.

Not as far as I know, but he’s a natural at finding the beat. He is a wiz on all the latest singers, too. He knows them by heart and all their hit songs.

What about the old singers, the ones from way back? Santa asked. I do have a preference for the oldies.

Old singers like who? Robye asked. Give me some names, and I’ll check them out.

Santa laughed. Oh, singers like the Beatles maybe, or Neil Diamond. I really liked Simon and Garfunkel. Oh, and Johnnie Ray too. Good beat; nice to listen to.

Oh, well, yeah, Robye stammered. That is way back. Mickey probably knows a bunch of those old-timers too. He knew Patsy Cline and Engelbert Humperdinck, so who knows what singer or band he might come up with? Now when Roger Miller came to mind …

Hearing Santa’s familiar twitter in the background, Robye looked toward him and added, Yeah, and him too. That was when he really got started. I’m sure you remember his old song ‘England Swings.’ Well, when it came to mind, Mickey cut loose. He was dancing all over the place. Too bad you weren’t here. We had a blast.

Sorry I missed it, Santa twittered again. Then with a nod, he added, I’d say you fellows had quite the party.

Oh yeah, and what caused all the interest in dancing? Let me tell you, Santa, it was those borealis formations. Mickey got caught up with the swinging and swaying as aurora images crossed the screen; he went on and on about the musical beat he felt. I couldn’t believe how excited he was. He tried to explain how he could feel the rhythm, the musical rhythm. I finally gave up on the idea.

I cannot imagine you giving up on such an elementary challenge, Robye.

I was just explaining how Mickey picked up on the beat in the formations. He seemed to be a natural at that kind of thing. He’d start up on another song every time the tempo changed, like when the pattern changed from curls to ripples. Oh, and you know that long design we call the draping curtain …

Slithering close to the new layer of snow, Santa added.

Yes, and it was a golden green the last time I saw it.

Santa said, And what about the wave of color change going into a really deep dark purple as it rose from the ground?

And how those long beams of brilliant color seem to fall right out of the sky, curling and spiraling then weaving back and forth, sometimes stretching away like feathers in a breeze? I think that was Mickey’s favorite. He said waltz steps would fit the moves: one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three. Tony wasn’t very obliging as a partner, though.

So, they tried to dance to the movements? A smirk tickled the back of Santa’s throat. He leaned back, visualizing the idea. I can see how that might work. Hmm, I’ll bet Sara Sue could figure it out.

Oh, and by the way, Mickey and Tony kept calling the lights ‘clouds.’ Just thought you’d like to know. Actually they called them ‘weird clouds.’

Oh, Santa answered. What really matters is being familiar with the proper names.

After Mickey pointed out the synchronized movements he was following, it reminded me of you and Mrs. C. at the dance last Christmas. Robye grinned then added, I had not thought of that description until just now. Sometimes I surprise myself. Those lights often have the moves of a waltz, you know.

An observation I will be sure to take note of, Robye. I’m glad you pointed it out. Did you thank your friends for the visit?

I sure did, Santa. I was happy their parents allowed them to come for a while. They seemed to have a good time, even though it was only for a short visit.

Maybe you can invite them again, Santa suggested.

I would like that. I hope they can stay a little longer next time, Robye said. Oh, and I forgot to tell you one other thing. They wanted to know if I had ever touched them—the lights, that is. I told them no, of course not. I had only watched them on the screen just like they were doing. I tried again to explain the cause and effect, saying that a beam of light cannot be touched, which completely lost them.

They do have a problem with abstract thinking—another topic for the curriculum. Santa then said, I do question your cloud reference, Robye.

Oh, I know. The ‘cloud’ description was completely false. I finally told them you had always called them ‘mystery lights,’ and they liked that idea. I also told them the official name was aurora borealis, often called northern lights because of location.

Santa chuckled. I do believe you covered all your bases.

They liked ‘mystery lights’ the best. I didn’t think it mattered what name they decided to use.

Ah, well. Santa laughed. ‘Mystery lights’ would probably bring up many different descriptions, types, and locations, and probably none of them would be a close reference to the aurora borealis.

Well, anyway, Robye added, once that part was settled, they began to take me a bit more seriously …

Santa leaned back with a grin. And you took advantage of it.

Of course I did, Robye said quickly. And you know what the funny part of it was? They were listening. So I began to explain where the energy producing all those colorful iridescent lights actually originated from, explosions on the sun’s surface of course. You’ll never guess what I used as reference.

It would have to be a textbook description for them to visualize such an event, Santa pointed out.

And it was, Santa. It turned out to be a great idea, Robye said excitedly. I have been waiting for the right time to tell you about this part.

Well, out with it, Robye, or I’ll have to hold you down with rocks on your feet. Santa laughed.

It gave me a chance to use the great sun eclipse as a reference, the one that occurred only a few months ago. Since the eclipse path was being tracked from beginning to end across the North American continent by all those scientists, and since we had all this new equipment, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make a recording of the whole event, so I did, right here in the observatory. It has comparative photos, official conversations, news reports, with everything being referenced. It was documented and placed on file, from the time the eclipse was visibly crossing the northwestern corner of Oregon State until it reached the South Carolina coastline of the Atlantic Ocean in the United States, below us.

Now, why am I not surprised? Santa’s face beamed as he spoke. I wondered a bit at the time why I had no correspondence from you. So, how did it go?

Awesome, of course, Robye answered. Wish I could have personally viewed the event.

Same here, Santa replied. Even though a total sun eclipse is not an uncommon event—they do occur about every eighteen months somewhere on the planet—sad to say, they are seldom located in a populated area. I’m glad you took advantage of the opportunity, Robye.

Actually, you offered the opportunity by suggesting I should acquaint myself with the new electronic equipment. I took advantage of the eclipse, being an event worth keeping.

Well, Santa said, laughing, you never cease to amaze me. How did the photos come out?

That is what I’m saying; they came out great. Robye giggled. I used them to introduce my friends to our sun and where the explosions originate. It so happened that I was privileged to catch some really dynamic shots around the sun perimeter, and I also had the scientific descriptions from various sources.

Did you send your mom a copy?

Of course I did. She hasn’t had a chance to study it, though. Even after all the editing, the photo and dialogue collection is still about two hours long. Oh yeah, Santa, just so you know, every time I’ve sent your copy, a garbled mess is all that comes up. I haven’t figured out why yet, but I think it might have to do with the northern lights interference we have going on right now.

Only my copy, Robye? Santa growled. Really?

You are changing the subject on me again, Robye growled back. Then with a grin, he continued. Well, anyway, what I did next was to enlarge a couple of views of solar explosions and then describe how the shots were taken. My friends were stunned at the detail, as well as by my description. I think they believed everything I said after that. I had told them over and over that I had never actually seen the real sun either, only pictures in technical books and images through a telescope. The sad thing about it, Santa, was that my friends had no idea what the sun surface actually looked like until I shared the photos.

It seems you were up close and personal with your explanations. Good job, Robye.

The photo images made it possible, thanks to our new equipment, Robye answered.

So, how did you describe the effects of solar flares and sunspots? Santa reminded. Those are the foundation of our northern light displays, but more importantly, they are responsible for the dynamics of our periodic increase in magnetic and static interference. Although quite unstable, it is still the energy source of our city.

Come on, Santa, give me a break, Robye whined. I’m on a roll here.

Well, it all fits together, Santa twittered. And as well you know, if it were not for your mother and her knowledge about such things, our city would have no source of power.

Okay, okay. Robye laughed. I was about to tell you. So, I then pulled up images of the solar flares and sunspots around the sun perimeter. Lacking a better way to explain, I called a solar flare the reconnecting explosion, caused by unstructured or unsettled energy, and sunspots, which are seen as black spots on the sun surface, the aftermath of solar flares.

How did your friends handle such information?

They had no idea, so I had to think of something they were familiar with. I had to do some quick thinking, Santa, and the first thing that came to mind was Mickey’s interaction with music. It ended up being a great reference. I discussed how the elements of an atom and the musical scale are similar. I was concerned about Tony, too. He seemed to be all right with it, though.

Well, Santa said, laughing, this should be an interesting comparison.

I made drawings, of course, Robye continued. I drew a visual of an atom and one of …

You drew all the parts of the atom, Santa said questioningly, and how different ones react?

Not all of them, Santa, just the basic three elements. Now back to the atoms, like I was trying to tell you: I scribbled out the drawings and … well, let me think how I started off. Oh yes, untamed or free energy, referencing incomplete atoms of course.

Uh-oh, don’t let me interrupt, Santa said.

Now, by this time, Robye said, relating the incident, Tony and Mickey had kind of gotten the hang of what made an atom hold together—you know, the structure of it. I explained that incomplete atoms are unsettled and highly explosive, and of course they wanted to know why. I told them it was because the atoms are incomplete; lacking a particle keeps them in constant excitable motion, traveling in loops back and forth between their positive and negative poles. The next step was to describe the helix effect and explain an outcome. As we know, the helix loops have a tendency to cross over or twist into spirals or curls, allowing opportunity for breaking off. When such an event occurs, each segment of the loop immediately explodes. Considering the dynamics of solar flares, an explosion of this magnitude may be as huge and far-reaching as that of a thousand nuclear bombs. By force of such an explosion, the fragmented loops are then catapulted off the sun’s surface and thrust through space at a rate that would make the speed of light seem slow.

That was quite a dynamic description, Robye, Santa said thoughtfully,And probably too much information for anyone to digest at one sitting.

I know, Santa, not easy to describe. Robye squirmed deeper into his seat then shifted the phone to his other hand. The one thing that saved me was the photos. Feeling a little more comfortable, he rolled the chair up closer to the desk with his toes and leaned over the pad in front of him. With a scowl, he pulled the sketch pad toward him, gazing critically at the drawings he had used to describe similarities between atoms and the musical scale. After noting the validity of the atoms, complete as well as incomplete, he picked up the slightly recognizable drawing of a piano keyboard and laughed. This is an awful piece of work. He then rummaged through the desk drawer, pulling out a pencil and an eraser.

After switching hands with the phone, he pushed the pad out across the desk, leaning over to pick up the pencil. You know, Santa, all the time my friends were here, I was afraid they would see me as a nerd or something. A few seconds later, he pulled the sketch pad closer to the desk lamp, redrawing some of the lines. When finished, he continued with the thought. But I guess it really doesn’t matter.

They might find you less a ‘nerd,’ as you call yourself, if your topics of conversation leaned more toward their interests, Santa said.

Oh, Santa, you know me better than that. We talk about a lot of things.

Such as? Santa prodded.

Oh, I don’t know. We talked about the big hockey game that’s coming up and school …

What about young ladies?

Uh, well, yes, girls … sometimes. Robye hesitated, then added, I thought they might be interested in this, um, science project, you might say.

And you were the only one with any training on the subject, Santa said. Pity. But you know, Robye, expanding our experiences is always a good thing.

I know. And when I was describing the sun surface activity, it seemed really important for me to find a connection they could relate to.

Their understanding may be important to our city’s survival as well, Santa pointed out. We never know what our future holds.

Oh, I think so, too, Robye agreed. Well, the next thing I had to explain was about the sun–earth interaction, which is the birth of the aurora borealis lights’ development and why they are so unique. They wouldn’t understand anything else without knowing that part.

Another challenge to explain, Santa chuckled.

Yes, I know, Robye said.

And what was your approach? Santa asked.

Robye frowned back. Well, the nearest visual I could come up with was an exploding fireball. Uh, kind of out there, I know.

Sorry about the interruption, Santa said. I keep getting ahead of you.

Oh, that’s okay. Robye grinned. All right now, where was I? Oh yeah, I was going to explain my exploding fireball comparison.

I must say, it is an odd comparison, Robye.

Yes, and I knew fireball would be misleading unless you think of the visual. I needed a comparable term to describe the massive explosion on the sun surface. It seemed to be vivid enough at the time. When I described how the invisible force of electrically charged incomplete atoms caused the explosion—the fireball so to speak—and was thrown into space, I’m really not sure they understood that part of the transition either.

But your fireball is only a part of the visual, Santa noted.

Of course, Santa, that was my next point in the description. I told them about our gravity and how the magnetic pull may cause an excitement within the forces of incomplete atoms. Because of this, the atoms are drawn through the earth’s atmosphere and gravitate to our planet poles. I also explained how the looping effect of incomplete atoms is a factor in the aurora borealis lights formation.

A lot of new information for your young friends, Santa pointed out. So how are they holding up?

Well, Robye replied, chuckling, all the time I was working up an explanation, Tony and Mickey were going from one screen to another, pretending to listen, you know, with an ‘uh-huh’ and an ‘oh really’ every once in a while. Anyway, that was the impression I had, until Mickey asked what determined the aurora color variations. Now, Santa, this was the greatest part of the whole visit. Glowing with anticipation, Robye pushed back from the desk, eyed the big screen, and said, "I didn’t get any farther than to say, ‘There are different gases,’ when Mickey took over the conversation. He said, ‘The earth has an encompassing magnetic field called the magnetosphere, which protects our atmosphere. A portion of these incomplete atoms filter a particular gas, such as through this protection, and collect around the poles.’

Then Tony broke in to the conversation, saying, ‘These incomplete atoms, when exposed to or excited by a gas such as oxygen, emit a spark of a color, which in this case is greenish or greenish-yellow. Of course, you have to factor in the altitude, since the more distant from the earth, the darker blues and purple shades show up.’ They knew all the names of the gases, as well as the colors each was represented by. I think it was nitrogen they were arguing about when they finally left.

Santa leaned toward the screen and shook his head. I’m curious as to why they allowed you to continue describing the effects of the phenomenon when they seemed very knowledgeable about the subject.

It got to me as well, Robye said, so I asked. A grin crossed his face as he answered. Mr. Jackson—he’s one of the supervisors at my mom’s place—had suggested they come visit me.

I know Mr. Jackson, Santa interrupted. So go on.

All right, so let me get this straight in my mind as I tell you, Robye said. "First off, both Tony and Mickey are interested in applying as trainees for the power system. As you know, they must first qualify as applicants. I can only imagine their frustration, since an exam such as that would be extremely difficult to prepare for.

They had been advised not to use my mother or Mr. Jackson as references and to make it an extemporaneous visit so no bias would be disclosed in the information. Robye smiled back at Santa. I didn’t mind, though. It was just a thumbprint description of the phenomenon. I tried to explain the whole effect to them as simply as possible. As you know, I do get carried away sometimes.

Santa laughed. It’s because you understand the whole picture, and it’s good to share.

I suppose you’re right, Santa. We don’t see the sun very often, and I really hadn’t thought about it until lately. Speaking of sharing, there is one part of their training where I’m now a bit concerned.

And that would be? Santa questioned.

Oh, the different gases and emitted colors, the layers of protection around our earth, and a lot of other things I thought they weren’t interested in. I hope I wasn’t too lackadaisical about my descriptions.

Were you truthful and concise?

Robye snickered a bit then said, Well, truthful, yes. Concise, mm … not too sure; I do get carried away sometimes. It wasn’t very long after when they both left. Maybe I’m just boring.

Were Tony and Mickey your only visitors?

Yes. Why do you ask?

I have a couple more candidates. I thought they may have stopped by, Santa explained.

Oh, no one else showed up, Robye answered. I’ve been here the rest of the night by myself.

I told Mr. Jackson about four candidates.

I had already invited Mickey and Tony. The others were probably scheduled for a different time. But if you want me to check …?

No bother, Robye. I’ll handle it, Santa said decidedly. And what time did Mickey and Tony leave?

They came between eight and nine last night, I guess, and stayed only about an hour and forty-five minutes. They were to be home by ten thirty, Robye confirmed. I was a little disappointed when they couldn’t stay longer, though. I was hoping we could make a night of it, you know. After a slight hesitation, drawing in a deep breath, he continued. I must have dozed off just before your call, Santa. Sorry about that. Even with all the excitement around here, it was still a long night. I spent most of it thinking about my dad.

I know you think about him a lot, Santa said quietly.

Yes, nearly every minute of my life. Robye felt the warmth welling in his eyes. He blinked, trying to hold back the tears. This project, this night, has always been about my dad. He felt the wetness on his chin. The tears slid off, splashing on the desk. He shifted from one side of his seat to the other. Minutes later he leaned forward, pulled a small towel from the desk drawer, and dried his arms.

2

Mystery Lights

B y location, the underground canyon and plateau now referred to as Happenstance by the residents allowed protection from nature’s elements: ice, snow, polar winds, and temperatures to perhaps −180°F or lower. The primary reason for the extreme cold weather in this region was the length of earth’s exposure time to the sunrays during rotation. Near the pole, the earth is swept by the warm rays in minutes, while at the equator it takes hours for this phenomenon to occur.

Of course the sun rotation also affects the bounty of vegetation. A growth of moss beneath the layers of snow may be found close to the polar region, whereas some distance away, as the sun begins to linger, random patches of small bushes may be found. With the increased increments of time and distance, vegetation then may grow taller and stronger, allowing a rim of small bushes to emerge, preempting the tree line.

The interior depth of the hidden plateau has a constant mean temperature of 20°F. With this, improved creature comforts, from the absence of wind and the moderation of extreme cold, were a given, but the air quality concern became an urgent problem. Since the city was in an underground cavern and concealed by an ice cap that extended over the surface break, it allowed fresh air for the few, but as the city population grew, this was not enough for the many. Fresh filtered air was soon piped in from above the cap. A continuous air index monitor was then installed and the readings posted throughout the community.

Of the original five companions, Robert David Jax Sr., having the scientific background of his parents to draw from, was the only logical choice for finding resolutions to problems such as this. Early in the city development a science department consisting of both a lab and an observatory evolved, a primary necessity for the community to survive and flourish.

Located on the north end of the ice plateau, the observatory consisted of a very large main room that took up most of the interior space. Skirting the room were tables pushed against the wall and shelves hanging above them. Over the years an assortment of science books, documents, and papers took over the areas of storage. Every flat surface in the room was stacked with reference books, binders, notebooks, and drawings. Pencils and rulers, along with other various types of needs, were all sorted into small boxes and stored at each of the locations. There was a close feeling of presence in the room, as if someone had just stepped away for a moment. This had been Robye and his father’s domain.

At an early age, young Robye began spending time with his father at the science facilities. Then it became a daily occurrence. Influenced by his father’s passion for science, most of Robye’s first eleven years involved the activities and technology necessary to make Happenstance a safe place to live. Robye and his father were inseparable.

When his father died, it completely changed Robye’s reason for breathing. Although the accident happened more than two years ago, the science lab, his father’s office, was too difficult a place for Robye to face. The memories were still painful. He only visited when it was required of him to do so. Then when Santa requested he cover the eleventh-year borealis activities, his heart went numb. It was a traumatic obligation he knew he had to come to terms with.

The size of the observatory was not commensurate with the function it provided. Inside the front door and beyond the bathroom was a kitchenette with a microwave sitting atop a small refrigerator. On the wall above were two shelves piled high with assorted boxes and packets of food. Beside the refrigerator was a garbage can. It had three crunched-up food wrappers inside.

State-of-the-art electronic equipment was staged in a half-moon pattern across the open floor of the large main room. There were five large flat screens, all lined up and hanging at eye level, above a long, curved desk-like table. At each location was an accommodating keyboard. Three large telescopes and two smaller ones, each sporting cameras and recorders, had been assigned specific data to record. Each had been pointed in strategic directions for a particular purpose. They were angled for eye-level viewing, as well as for easy response.

Robye’s night had been spent systematically observing the aurora borealis activity as it was recorded in both audio and visual. He was to maintain all the special equipment, making sure everything ran smoothly so the sightings would be officially documented, including date and time. He was also to take reportable notes on any worthy variables in activity. Cameras had been placed in specific locations and programmed for continuous photography throughout the night. He viewed the images as they were sent to the screens, scanning for unrecorded anomalies.

It was a documented fact that the aurora borealis lights had grown stronger; they were becoming more active and more brilliant. But this was the first night the weather had been cooperative for any visual documentation. There was no fog, no ice, and no blowing snow to obstruct the view. It was also, according to Robye’s father’s scientific data, the naturally assigned night for the ultimate peak of the borealis performance—the highlight of activity.

Young Robert Sandor Jax had been anticipating this event his whole life. His father; his godfather, Santa Claus; and the city elders had many stories to tell about the lights—the mystery lights as they were called. Robye had been told about apparitions that came to life, the appearance of fireballs rolling across the ground, and furniture that walked. The powerful eleventh-year cycle of the aurora borealis light experience had been a driving force for most of his young life, and now he was the one sitting at the helm.

Although Robye was still quite amazed at nature’s dramatic scenery, fatigue was taking its toll. He had been taking care of all the lab needs since early the night before. The long hours were beginning to tax his fourteen elf years.

Robye had lived in Happenstance all his life and had no desire to leave. From the stories both his parents had told him about Atilla and the living conditions—how everyone had suffered and how the atrocities had been hidden from the public for so many years—he visualized all places outside Happenstance as being the same. His father, Robert Sr., was one of the five who brought down the security walls surrounding Atilla. It was often called the ‘old city’ by residents. His father had also helped to free the elves from bondage and restore their magic. Robye had heard the stories many times and was content to view the outside world through telescopes, pictures, and the occasional movie at his disposal.

With folded hands behind his head, Robye pushed against the headrest of his