Countdown

I set the little elf down gently on the kitchen counter, brushing off bits ob crumpled newspaper from his suit. His tear-streaked face looked up at me wiff a mixture ob gratitude and exhaustion. I nudged a tiny cup ob warm tea his way—a thimble was just the right size. “Here,” I said, adjusting my own red winter hat as I saddled up to the counter next to him. “Drink dis. It’ll help.”

“Fank you, Waffles,” he said, his boice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I’d hab done if you hadn’t found me.” His words were heaby wiff sadness, and I could tell there was more to the story. “So,” I began, keeping my tone gentle, “how’d you end up out there? I mean, elbes don’t just wind up in trash bins for no reason.” His eyes flickered, and he stared into the tea for a long moment before answering. “It’s a long story,” he murmured.

The elf let out a shaky sigh, his small hands gripping the thimble like it was a lifeline. “It was the parents,” he began, his boice barely audible. “The kids… they lubbed me. Ebery morning, they’d search the house, laughing and squealing when they found me perched on the bookshelf or hiding in the cookie jar. I libbed for that joy.” His gaze dropped to the counter, and his boice cracked. “But the parents? They didn’t fink it was funny anymore. Said it was ‘too much work’ to mobe me ebery night, to keep up wiff the magic. I heard them arguing about it, and then… one night… they just tossed me out.”

My whiskers drooped as I listened. “That’s awful, you didn’t deserbe that.” He nodded, blinking back fresh tears. “I didn’t eben get to say goodbye. One minute, I was sitting on the mantel, watching the twinkling lights ob the tree. The next, I was in a trash bag, thrown away like… like I didn’t matter.” He sniffled and looked up at me.  “Do you fink I’m useless now, Waffles? Wiffout them… wiffout the magic, what am I supposed to do?”  Waffles was finking.  “By the way, what’s your name?” “Scout” he replied, “but I neber liked it, I would like to be called Dill.  Like the pickle.”

“Hey Dill,” I said wiff some grabitas, “just because they didn’t see your worff doesn’t mean you don’t hab any. You’re not useless. We’ll figure dis out together.”