Hank Saves the North Pole

By William Kirrane

After years of being blamed for terrible weather, OLD MAN WINTER resents SANTA for being beloved by all. He has assembled a team of folklore's notorious Christmas villains - including HANS TRAPP, KRAMPUS, JACK FROST and the YULE CAT. He also has an army of rapscallion snowmen that outnumbers the elves. With only 5 days until Christmas, the treacherous team storms the North Pole and imprisons the big guy and the elves. Unbeknownst to them, a tough elf named GINGER has avoided capture. But she needs help if she is going to stop Old Man Winter.

Miles away, HANK lives a quiet life on the Emerald Isle. Once an elf, now just another regular guy, Hank is grouchy and disheartened during the Christmas season. He misses Ginger, the elf he loves, and the happiness of the North Pole. The GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT brings him news of Santa's situation, and Hank learns that the world might descend into chaos if Santa doesn’t make his ride. Hank is the only one that can help since he is the only one that knows the secret passage to the holiday village. 

Realizing that this is his chance to be reunited with Ginger, and to return to the North Pole as a hero. There’s only one problem: How is one man supposed to stop an army of rapscallions? Hank needs to bring three things with him: Magic, muscle and... a third mysterious thing that Hank needs to figure out in time! Although not thrilled that the Ghost of Christmas Present has given him a riddle, he and his happy-go-lucky friend RUSS head north. 

Their journey will bring them into enchanted forests, ice capped mountains, and Nordic towns before reaching the village. On the way, they encounter all sorts of mystic creatures, take on great physical challenges and battle dangerous enemies. The story brings a new take on familiar Christmas beings, like the talking snowman, the snow maiden, and even Ebeneezer Scrooge. Contested at every step, Hank must move forward, reach the destination, solve the Ghost of Christmas Present’s riddle, and figure out how to save the North Pole!

HANK SAVES THE NORTH POLE! is a Christmas fantasy/comedy for both young adults and young-at-heart adults to enjoy. The central plot is a hero’s journey filled with action, danger, humor, and adventure at every turn. What grounds the story is Hank’s desire to be reunited with an elf he very much loves. Ultimately, the story is about the ultimate message of Christmas, and how it can brighten us all!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: May 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9781977265371

William Kirrane

WILLIAM KIRRANE is from Long Island, NY. He is a big fan of Christmas and celebrates the season with joy and merriment. He is a loving husband and father to two awesome kids. He is a seasoned attorney (who has been called grouchy every now and again). He hopes you like his pictures. 

Book preview

1

THE NORTH POLE IN DANGER!

Welcome! Welcome girls! Welcome boys! Welcome grown-ups and grown-downs! Teenagers and tweenagers! Senior folks and folksy seniors! Welcome to the special ones, the precious ones, who keep the holiday season love in their hearts! Everyone and anyone are welcome here since this is a story for the world to hear! Welcome to the North Pole!

It’s the happiest place on Earth! The scenery! The music! The lights! The brightness and the cheer! It’s always the greatest time of year! The fact is that this land of wonderment is nearly impossible to describe with a pen. Simple words rarely do justice to great visual amazements. Poems can, though. I once heard a verse about it. I might botch a word or two, but it goes a little something like this:

The sun always shines and it’s never too cold;

It’s never snowing, but there’s always fresh snow.

The buildings are charming, sturdy, and strong;

They look just like the storybooks, all short, tall, and long.

The streets are all delightful, warm, and inviting;

Dressed in great ornaments, decorations, and lighting.

In the center is the Workshop, where all toys are made;

By many great Elves that work, whistle, and play.

A Town Square with a tree that dazzles and pops;

Dressed for the season, with a mighty Star up on top.

Protected by magic, this village can never be found;

Unless, of course, Santa Claus wants you around.

In that case, be ready, and though experiences vary;

There’s no place you’ll find life living so merry!

Yes, that poem just about sums it up. Though, if you ask Santa, he will describe the village with just one word. It is a great and powerful word, that stirs feelings of great happiness and love every time you hear it. I’m sure you know it, but in case you don’t, let me whisper it gently to you: CHRISTMAS!

I expect some of you may recognize my voice. It’s a strong, deep voice that’s ripe with joy! I have been called many things in my day. Father Christmas. Sir Christmas. I think most of you know me as the Ghost of Christmas Present, on account of how I helped out with that whole Ebenezer Scrooge situation some years ago. You can call me whatever your heart feels content, just remember this: I am not Santa Claus. People often mix us up. Nope, he’s his own man with his own mission. I have my own responsibilities. Think of me more as a guiding spirit. A spirit in a long green robe, a candle topped crown and a strong love of life!

I’ve seen it all and I have much to tell. I have a story to tell you. One that happened quite a few Christmases ago. Or is it quite a few Christmases from now? Hard for me to say, exactly. Time works differently for me than it does for you. Let’s just say that the story starts right here, right now, on this late December day in the North Pole.

Merry Morning Everyone! shouted a happy elf as he walked towards the Workshop. Every morning started essentially the same way. After breakfast hour, all the elves joyfully marched themselves from their cottages to the main street, right to the Town Square, where the entrance to the Workshop sat ready. You could think of it as a parade, a daily festive parade, with all of the elves laughing and singing.

Happy Morning! the elves sang in unison. In return, many exclaimed, What a glorious day to be alive!

Ginger was a feisty, spitfire, wonderful elf walking her way to the Workshop. She had the brightest smile any elf had ever been blessed with. She was also sharp as a tack, and nothing ever intimidated her. But if there was one thing she wasn’t great at, it was being on time. This morning, as usual, she ran late.

Good morning, Vern! Ginger said as she met her friend on the roadway.

Hey, Ginger!

Did Santa greet us yet?

Not yet, Vern answered.

Ginger looked up at the clock that sat atop the Workshop. It was quickly approaching eight in the morning. That’s the time Santa always stepped out of his house and greeted the elves in the Town Square.

Good, Ginger said. I never like missing that.

Did you forget your hat again? Vern asked.

Ginger reached up and touched her head. Sure enough, in her rush to greet the big man, she had left her hat behind.

Not again, she groaned.

Sorry. Want me to go back and get it for you? Vern asked.

Nope. My hat, my responsibility. I guess I’ll just do better tomorrow. See you later, Vern!

Yes, she was late quite often, and sometimes a bit forgetful. But Ginger was also as tough as an elf can get. She was one tough cookie.

(Get it? Ginger cookie? Sorry, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come thought that would kill.)

As Ginger turned back to her cottage, the other elves filled the Town Square. There were dozens of them standing, as they always do, in great anticipation of what would be coming next. They stared at the small red cottage across the square. The elves all chattered quietly amongst themselves, which sounded a bit like a waterfall. At eight o’clock sharp, the Workshop’s tower clock bell rang its happy chorus. The murmuring gently faded to a hush. The door to the cottage opened and Santa stepped out to greet his family.

Ho-ho-ho! Santa said. Happy morning everyone!

Happy morning, Santa! the elves shouted with glee.

How many days until Christmas? Santa asked, as he always did.

Five!

Then we’ve got work to do!

The crowd cheered and music started to play. Once again, the parade of elves resumed, and a line formed outside the Workshop. It was time to make some toys!

Ginger had just returned to her cottage, where she quickly found her hat where she expected to find it. Hanging over the fireplace mantel, next to a wood figurine that was meticulously carved in her likeness. She grabbed the hat, but before she made her way to the front door, she looked at the figurine. She thought about the elf that made it for her. He was an elf who no longer lived in the North Pole. An elf she missed terribly. She had been thinking about him a lot lately. Missing him. Wanting to see him. Wondering where he was, and what he was doing.

As it turns out, Ginger’s forgetfulness that morning served her well. Actually, it served us all well. As she walked back to the door, she looked out her front window. She saw something odd. Very odd. It was a dark fog off in the distance. It was an unusual thing to observe in the North Pole, because the sun always shines during the day. The morning sky is always blue without a cloud in sight. Not this morning. There was a dark fog. How far away was it? It was hard for her to tell, but soon a more alarming realization came to her mind. The fog was moving towards the village. Quickly.

Oh my, Santa said.

He looked up at the fog. The other elves stopped marching forward. Everyone looked back with concern. They looked at Santa to comfort them. If there’s one person that’s not afraid of anything, it’s the big guy.

What is it? an elf asked nervously.

An old acquaintance, Santa answered in a tone that briefly calmed the nerves.

The approaching fog began to change its shape. Instead of moving forward, the darkness started twisting and spinning with great speed. It spun faster and faster until it had turned itself into a massive, angry storm cloud!

Run for cover! Vern shouted as hysteria crept into the once-jolly crowd.

It’s okay, everyone! Don’t be afraid! Santa told them. Everything will be fine.

The dark cloud then rolled towards the village with purpose. It found more and more energy as it approached the Town Square. It made a straight line directly for the Workshop, or perhaps even worse, for Santa. But, like I said, there is nothing that Santa is afraid of. The elves all watched as Santa, coolly and calmly, stepped directly in front of its path.

That’s enough of this, Old Man. Show yourself, Santa shouted.

Suddenly, as if the cloud heard Santa’s order, it came to a stop. It stood still over Main Street, hovering furiously over the big guy. The elves watched with trepidation. Santa watched with courage.

Down the street in her cottage, Ginger watched with concern.

After a few long seconds, the cloud let out a roar of thunder and exploded with soot. Everything was dark for a few seconds. Soon, the soot settled. The air was clear again. Only, the village was no longer bright and cheery. The soot covered the white snow and dirtied the houses, lights and all the decorations. It was as if the joy had been extinguished and the town turned grey.

Of course, the soot did not dare touch Santa. No, the big guy still stood tall in his work clothes. His thermal shirt was still bright, his back suspenders still shone, and his red velvet pants still looked festive. Santa stood and looked directly at the Main Street. He wasn’t looking out at the darkened town. No, he was looking at what was truly terrorizing the elves. He was looking at an intruder.

What business do you have here... Old Man Winter! Santa asked in a stern voice.

Old Man Winter was nearly eight feet tall. He was thin and gaunt with wrinkled silver skin and a stone-blue beard. His eyes glowed yellow as he looked at Santa with disdain.

Ingrates, Old Man Winter said with a harsh voice. All of you!

What are you talking about? Santa asked.

Old Man Winter placed his elongated index finger to his lips, and coldly went Shush, Kringle.

He walked towards the big guy.

"All these years, I’ve given you your white Christmases. I’ve given you your snow-covered trees and scenic iced ponds. What thanks have I ever received? What gratitude has anyone ever shown me? You hand out a few trinkets, and the world sings your praises. You would be nothing without me!"

I don’t have time for this! Let’s talk inside, Santa said.

No! Old Man Winter declared. It’s too late for talk! This ends now!

What ends? Santa asked.

Old Man Winter looked at Santa with a wicked grin. His teeth were as yellow as his eyes.

Why, Christmas! Christmas ends this year! And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You can’t stop Christmas! No one has that power. Not even you.

I can’t stop the days from passing, or the calendar from reaching the twenty-fifth of December. That day will come and go, as it always does. But I can stop… you.

Old Man Winter let out a maniacal laugh that hurt any listener’s ears. He held his long hands over his head. With a sinister smile and a devilish look in his eyes, he clapped three times. With each clap came a blast of thunder, until on the third clap, a bolt of lightning was followed by the appearance of another sinister creature.

Santa recognized him right away. It was Krampus! He was a large beast who stood on all four legs. He was covered with mangy and knotted hair. His face looked like an ugly buffalo and an even uglier buffalo had a baby, but not a good-looking baby buffalo. He had long horns that were sharp and threatening. Oh, and on this point I cannot be any clearer, he smelled bad. Really bad. Like, One shower isn’t going to help bad.

You brought Krampus?

Krampus roared at Santa. The beast couldn’t talk but he understood words just fine. And his roar was mighty and strong, and unleashed a blast of his cruel breath.

That’s not all I brought, Kringle.

Once again, Old Man Winter raised his hands and clapped. Again there was thunder, and again there was another scary apparition. It was Hans Trapp!

Hello, Claus, Trapp said with a raspy voice.

Known to most as the Christmas Scarecrow, Hans Trapp looked every inch the part. He was grungy and angry, with dry straw hair and burlap clothes.

Trapp. I thought you had retired hundreds of years ago. Remember? After I kicked your butt back to the dark forest?

I decided to come out of retirement for this occasion. I brought my trusty rod, too.

Trapp lifted a large wooden rod that he once used to knock out bad children. The rod was meant to scare people, but it also helped Trapp scratch his back. Burlap is a very itchy fabric.

Who else did you bring, Old Man?

"Oh, just an old friend that I don’t think you’ve had the pleasure to meet. Maybe you know of her though? She used to find nice homes on Christmas Eve. When the little children were sound asleep, dreaming of sugar plums or fruitcake, she would find the gifts you left behind, and… devour them! You might know her as… Joke a totem."

Jólakötturinn, Trapp said.

It’s not an easy name to pronounce, okay? So most of us call her the Yule Cat!

Once again, Old Man Winter clapped his hands. Once again, there was furious thunder and lightning, leaving behind another creature. This one looked just like a white cat.

Meow, said the Yule Cat.

Um. It’s a house cat, Santa said.

Trust me. She’s a lot scarier than she looks, Old Man Winter insisted.

I remember hearing about the Yule Cat. I thought she was a black cat?

She was. She’s just… really old. She’s been at this for centuries. Okay? You should know better than anyone that old hair turns white with age.

She looks a bit portly, Santa added.

She eats a lot. Okay? It’s her thing. Look, Old Man Winter said in a low voice. She’s an old, fat cat. Her best days are long behind her, but she wanted to be part of this, okay? So, she’s here. Just do her a favor and pretend like she’s contributing.

I see, Santa said.

All right. I think that’s all of us, Old Man Winter added.

What about the other guy? Trapp asked.

Oh, yes. Him. Old Man Winter sighed. Do we really need him?

Well, he came with us. He’s good at getting coffee and stuff. Plus, he’s still spinning around up there.

Okay, then. Old Man Winter gently clapped his hands. The lowest of thunder rumbled and the fourth creature fell from the sky. He screamed with terror as he dropped like a brick onto the hard cobblestone ground. He landed next to a fluffy snowbank. Then he stood up. It was Jack Frost!

Uh, hey... Frost said meekly.

Frost wasn’t scary at all. He was a timid, frail man with droopy eyes. In fact, he seemed a lot more scared of Santa than anything else.

Jack Frost? It’s been ages! Santa said.

Frost quickly hid behind Old Man Winter.

Stay away from me!

I thought we were friends, Frost? Santa asked.

Just be quiet, Frost, Old Man Winter said. I think that pretty much covers it.

This is the group you plan to defeat me with. This is all you’ve got. Ho-ho-ho! Santa’s laughter brought immense joy to the elves.

Far away from the scene, something didn’t feel right to Ginger. She knew there was more in store for them.

Well, let me see here, we have me, Krampus, Hans Trapp, the Yule Cat and Frost, Old Man Winter said. I think I might be just forgetting something. What am I forgetting? You’ll have to forgive me, of course; I am an old man. Perhaps I’m forgetting… my army of rapscallion snowmen!

Thunder clapped again. From the grey snowbanks dozens and dozens of figures started to rise. They formed quickly with one large snowball for the body, and one round ball for the head. They were all identical with glowing red eyes and charcoal noses.

It was clear to Santa and the elves that they were surrounded and outnumbered. Old Man Winter once again laughed maniacally.

"You see, Kringle? We decided to work together! You’ll be unable to stop us this time!"

Santa didn’t look scared – because he was never scared – but he did look concerned. He was in trouble.

Ginger watched everything unfold from her cottage. She intuitively knew that she was the one elf who hadn’t been noticed. She could flee the village and get help. Only, Old Man Winter didn’t want to take any chances.

Oh, and in case any of your friends here think they can run away… Old Man Winter used his skinny legs to stomp the ground three times. The ground rumbled and shook. Ice then shot out all around the village. The ice was thick. The sheets came together and formed a wall around the North Pole. It was a massive wall that was two stories tall.

Now no one can come… or go. Once again, Old Man Winter laughed maniacally.

You are a fool, Old Man, Santa said.

The wicked grin remained on Old Man Winter’s face. You’re right about one thing. I can’t stop Christmas. But this will be a year without Santa Claus!

Once again, Old Man Winter laughed manically. Yeah, it was getting a little old. Then Krampus grunted gleefully. Trapp danced some crazy jig. The Yule Cat said Meow. And Frost quivered behind them all.

Yes, Santa was sure in trouble. But Santa has been in trouble before, after, and many times over and again. He was no stranger to trouble. The thing is, Santa always wins. But, as he looked out at the team of foes that Old Man Winter had assembled to defeat him, he knew he would need help.

As often was the case, help was out there in the form of an old friend. A friend he hadn’t seen in many, many years.

A friend named Hank.

2

HANK

Many of you probably haven’t yet traveled to the seaside town of Dingle, Ireland. It’s one of the most beautiful places in all the world. On a sunny day, this seaside community on the Emerald Isle glistens magnificently with its sprawling green countryside, awe-inspiring landscapes, and breathtaking water views. The town itself is a bright and colorful place, with its quaint stone cottages and traditional row houses. This time of year the village is all the more stunning, and all the more glowing, for the holiday season is one that is celebrated here with great passion and joy. There are the traditional wreaths and candles, silver and gold ribbons, and of course, lights and lanterns galore.

If you ever had the great fortune of visiting the North Pole – when it wasn’t taken over by Old Man Winter – then you might find a lot of similarities between the two towns. It’s no wonder that this is where we find our hero.

With five days left until Christmas, the holiday market was bustling. As with most holiday markets, there was a Santa there for all the kids to meet. It’s no secret that Santa is a busy man and doesn’t have time to go to all of these markets all of the