A Katie Kazoo Christmas (17 page)

The train kept circling around the track, carrying Katie along with it.

“Get this elf off of me!” a girl in the front seat shouted as Katie fell into her train car.

“Stop this thing!” Katie shouted even louder.

Boom! As the little engine went around a bend, Katie fell off the train. She banged her head on a plastic Christmas tree near Santa’s chair.

Clink. Clank. Clunk.
Three big star-shaped ornaments fell from the tree . . . and landed right on the fake Santa Claus’s head.

“That’s it!” he shouted. He leaped up from his chair and yanked his phony white beard from his face. “I quit!”

When the children saw the make-believe Santa take off his beard, they started to cry.

The grown-ups all began screaming at once.

Katie frowned. This was
so
not good!

The crowd of parents and children grew more and more upset. So did the photographer.

“Ella, what happened?” he demanded.

“Well, that baby really stunk, so I moved away, and I stepped onto the train track, and then the North Pole Express scooped me up, then I hit the tree and . . .” Katie began.

“No, not that,” the photographer said angrily. “I saw that. I mean what happened to John?”

“John?” Katie asked. “Who’s John?”

“The guy who was playing Santa,” the photographer reminded her. He sounded kind of angry.

“Oh, him. He quit,” Katie explained.

“This is awful,” the photographer moaned. “I can’t have a Winter Wonderland without a Santa Claus.”

“Can’t you hire somebody else to pretend to be Santa?” Katie asked.

“At this time of year?” the photographer asked. “All the really good Santa impersonators already have jobs.”

“Well, maybe you can get John to come back,” Katie suggested.

“I sure hope so,” the photographer agreed. “But I can’t leave now. I have to deal with all these angry people. You’ll have to find him and talk him in to coming back to work.”

“Me?” Katie asked. “Why me?”

“Because you gave him the dirty baby and hit him in the head with the ornaments,” the photographer insisted. “Don’t just stand here talking. Go! He shouldn’t be too hard to find. Just look for the guy in the red velvet suit with a pillow stuffed in the belly.”

As Katie walked away, she wondered what she could possibly say that would make John go back to playing Santa Claus. She just had to bring him back. The photographer, Ella, and all those children were depending on her.

What would the Winter Wonderland be without its Santa Claus?

Katie wandered through the mall, searching for John. But she didn’t see him anwhere. It was like he’d magically disappeared or something.

She turned down a small hallway. It didn’t have any stores in it, just a big door that led to one of the loading docks. She looked around to see if John was there. But the hallway was completely empty.

Katie stood there for a minute and leaned against the wall. A tear ran down her cheek. She felt really bad about ruining the Winter Wonderland for everyone.

Just then, Katie felt a cold, wintry breeze blowing on the back of her neck. She turned quickly to see if the door that led to the loading dock was open.

Nope. It was shut tight. But there was definitely a wind blowing in the hallway.

That could mean only one thing. The magic wind was back!

Instantly, the magic wind picked up speed. It was blowing wildly now, circling faster and faster around Katie.

It was a cold wind. Like the kind you would find at the North Pole.

And then, suddenly, the magic wind stopped blowing. It had disappeared just as suddenly as it had come.

The wind was gone. But Katie was back!

She smiled. It was good to be wearing her own clothes again. She was happy not to smell like baby throw-up anymore.

Unfortunately, the photographer probably wasn’t too happy right now. He still didn’t have his Santa.

Katie might not have found John, but she did know a way the photographer could have a Santa for his Winter Wonderland. She couldn’t wait to tell him. Quickly she ran out of the hallway toward the center of the mall.

By the time Katie had arrived back at the Winter Wonderland, most of the parents and children were gone. But the photographer was still there. And so was the real Ella.

“What do you mean you don’t know what I’m talking about?” Katie heard the photographer demand. “I told you to go find John and talk him into coming back here.”

“I—I sort of remember you saying something about that,” Ella said.

“Sort of?” the photographer shouted. “What do you mean, sort of?”

“The thing is, I don’t really know what I remember,” Ella explained. “It’s all sort of fuzzy.”

“Um . . . excuse me,” Katie interrupted.

“Oh, no. It’s you again,” Ella said. “Didn’t you and your friend cause enough trouble by telling that boy that the man in the chair wasn’t the real Santa?”

Katie blushed. She still felt bad about that. “I didn’t mean to talk so loudly,” she assured Ella. “But that guy really didn’t seem like Santa. He didn’t like babies unless they were clean, and he didn’t smile or say, ‘Ho ho ho’ a lot.”

“Well, he was the best I could find,” the photographer told Katie. “And now he’s gone.”

Katie blushed. She was really glad Ella and the photographer didn’t know
that
was her fault, too.

“I could help you solve your problem,” Katie volunteered.

“You?” Ella asked. “What could a kid like you do?”

“It’s not like we have a kid-sized Santa costume here,” the photographer told Katie.

“I don’t need a costume,” Katie assured him. “I just need a cell phone.”

“A cell phone? Why?” the photographer asked.

“To call my grandmother,” Katie explained. “She has a friend who would be perfect for the job!”

On Thursday morning, the kids in class 4A were practically bouncing out of their seats. They couldn’t seem to learn a thing. All anyone could think about was the Secret Santa gift exchange.

Everyone really wanted to know who their Secret Santa was. And they couldn’t wait to get their big gifts.

Everyone but Katie, that is. She wasn’t looking forward to another gag gift. What would it be this time? Gum that tasted like pepper? A fake ice cube with a fly in it? Either way, it wasn’t going to be something Katie liked. She was sure of it.

“Okay, you guys, I surrender,” Mr. G. said. “I’m not going to be able to teach you kids anything until we exchange gifts. I’m going to be
impetuous
and let you go for it! Santas, deliver your presents!”

“Yeah!” George shouted as he leaped out of his beanbag chair. “I can’t wait to see what I got!”

“Me, either,” Kevin said. “I sure hope it’s more tomato stuff.”

Katie walked over to Kadeem and handed him her gift. “I’m your Secret Santa,” she told him.

“Cool,” Kadeem replied with a smile. “Those jokes really cracked me up.”

“Then you’ll really love this,” Katie assured him.

Kadeem looked at the package. Once again there was a joke written on the wrapping. “Why did the girl pull the month off of her calendar?” he asked the class.

“Why?” Mandy Banks said.

“She wanted to take a month off !” Kadeem laughed. He opened his gift. “Check it out. A joke-a-day calendar!”

“That’s three hundred and sixty-five jokes,” Andrew said. “You could win lots of joke-offs with that!”

Katie watched as all her friends opened their presents. Andrew got an ant farm from George.

Kevin got a kit for growing tomatoes inside during the winter from Kadeem.

Mandy got a poster of her favorite Olympic ice-skater from Emma S.

George got a gift certificate to Louie’s Pizza Shop from Mandy.

Emma W. got a diary and a pen from Kevin. Now that was a shock. Who knew that Kevin could buy nice gifts like a diary and a mood ring?

“My big brother Ian told me what to get,” Kevin explained to Emma W. “He’s in middle school. He knows all about what girls like.”

Soon everyone had a gift from their Secret Santa. Everyone except Katie, that is.

Now Katie was really confused. Kadeem had been Kevin’s Secret Santa. And George had been Andrew’s. That meant the two biggest jokers in the class had not been giving her the gag gifts.

So who had?

Slowly, Emma W. walked over to Katie and handed her a package. It was soft and squishy, and it had a big red bow on top.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” Katie asked, surprised.

Emma W. nodded.

“You gave me the fake vomit and the whoopee cushion?” Katie exclaimed.

“Uh-huh,” Emma admitted. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t know who your Secret Santa was.”

“Well, it worked,” Katie told her. “You were the last person I would have thought of.”

“I know,” Emma giggled. She looked at the package in Katie’s hands. “Aren’t you going to open it?” she asked.

“I’m afraid to,” Katie replied.

“Don’t be. This is the real gift.” Emma assured her.

Slowly, Katie untied the ribbon and opened the wrapping paper. Inside was a hat. It was made of fuzzy blue and white yarn. “It’s beautiful!” Katie exclaimed.