Tevun-Krus #36 - A Very Merry SteamPunk Christmas

The Invitation - A Short Story by @krazydiamond

He was tall, taller than she was have expected, with a long flowing beard tucked into his wide leather belt. The red velvet and leather lining of his suit was streaked with soot and grease, while the hat sat at a jaunty angle on his full mane of white hair. Periwinkle eyes twinkled at her in the low gaslight of the shop. She'd never seen eyes that color. Eyes that looked like they contained trapped stars within them.

"Oh, good, you're open," he said, in a voice that boomed through the small space. It was a voice that should scare her, but Jem felt the oddest sensation of warmth spreading up from her toes. She grinned, relaxing.

"Seems so. What can I do for you sir?"

He smiled at her, causing the warmth to infuse her. How could she refuse someone with such kind eyes anything?

"I seem to have run into a bit of trouble with my transport, but this was the only repair shop I found open . Would you be willing to take a look at it?"

"Of course! Let me grab my belt," she said, hurrying back to her corner of the shop to scoop up her belt and tools. She had to admit, she hadn't expected to get a Saint Nick in the shop tonight. He must be out delivering for charity and the like. She chuckled to herself, admitting the likeness was quite good. She'd secured her handy wrench to its position on her waist when she rejoined her unusual customer. "Lead the way," she said.

He face lit up with another warm smile as he gestured to the side yard. She went through the door. Her jaw dropped. She was gaping, she knew she was gaping, but she couldn't help it. Trying to wrap her brain around what she was seeing, she circled the sleigh. And it was a sleigh, a masterwork of gearcraft, with intricate metal etchings covering every inch. A full blown sleigh, smoke curling from an open port in the rear of the 'vehicle'. If that wasn't enough to take it, then there were the reindeer. Eight of them, great big shaggy creatures who shuffled around with irritability to match Boss Cor's.

She shook herself, swallowing hard as she tried to regain her equilibrium. So it was an oddly specific and well crafted mock up of Saint Nick's transport. Treat it like any other job, she told herself, heading for the smoking compartment at the rear of the vehicle. She eased the unusual engine block open, standing back to study it for a moment as her mechanics sensibilities accessed the problem.

"Ah, here's the issue," she said, "these gears are all out of alignment. Do you hit a lot of bumps in the road?"

"You could say that," said the odd fellow, startling her with his nearness. For such a large man, he moved without sound, studying the engine over her shoulder.

"I can replace a few of these gears to get you up and running for the rest of the night, but you should bring this beauty in for a full service job after the holiday," she said, setting to work removing the bent, half melted gears from the sorely abused system. "So much wear and tear could cause permanent damage without proper maintenance."

"I shall take that into consideration," he said in that bursting jovial voice. She continued to work, aware he watched everything she did, but she continued tweaking the other little odds and ends of the engine that were impending problems. If Boss Cor saw her, that mechanical eye of his would be twitching something fierce for doing so much extra without charging. Good thing he wasn't around.

"I must say I was surprised to see you open this eve, of all eve's." The man's remark was nonchalant, but she fought not to wince, feeling the tensing of her shoulders.

She shrugged. "It's just a day," she said softly. "There you are, that should do you."

"So fast! How much for the repair young lady?"

She smiled up at him. No Boss Cor meant he couldn't admonish her for this. "No charge sir," she said. Just because she had no family to be with for Christmas didn't mean she lacked the seasonal spirit of generosity.

It was worth it for the look of gratitude on the man's face as he clambered back into the sleigh, the reindeer huffing and stamping their impatience. "How kind of you. A Merry Christmas to you Miss Jem," he said, winking at her as he took off into the night. He was gone before she realized she never told him her name.

Shaking her head, the long day hitting her, Jem closed up shop and trudged home in the cold. She was resigned to forgoing dinner all together as she finally reached her tiny apartment, halting in confusion as the savory scent of roasted meat hit her nostrils. She stared at the other compartments, all dark and the residents long since gone to rest. Her confusion escalated when she opened her door to find her tiny table heavily laden with a waiting feast, a merry lamp lit and waiting for her.

"What the..." she sputtered, wondering if a generous thief had broken into her apartment, except she had nothing to take. Her eyes fell on the note perched on the edge of the table. She scrambled forward opening it to find lovely cursive handwriting.

Dear Miss Jem,

I apologize for my abrupt departure earlier for this is a busy night for me. I thank you again for your generosity and was verily impressed by your skill. Perhaps after the holiday, you would consider coming by my work shop. I could use a mechanic of your caliber and spirit.

Consider the gift beneath your tree your signing bonus.

A most merry Christmas.

S. Nick.

She looked up, wide eyed, at the tiny tree she'd built of discarded gears. On the floor, spread out in a display more tantalizing than the waiting feast on her table, was a brand new gleaming set of tools.