A Change Of Scene

Santa was having problems with air traffic over the North Pole. Would it end Christmas?

Contest Prompt

"The Writer's Cramp" Write a story or poem about a decision to move the Prime Meridian. Why the change, and who's deciding?.''

“They’re at it again,” Tinkerbell announced, showing Santa the Prime Meridian was being adjusted. While the historic line at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, England was still fondly observed, the satellite tracked ERS Reference Meridian (IRM) controlled by its international scientific body (and real Prime Meridian) did the actual useful work. Anytime the Earth's uneven surface rose or fell things happened at the ERS.

“They’re going to adjust it right over our main lodging now that my weakening spell can't hide us. Going to increase those pesky fly over’s of commercial airlines with climate change warming the Arctic.”

Tinkerbell had joined Santa’s elves, feeling more comfortable with other unworldly beings, now that Peter had married and given up youthful pirate ending endeavors. “The spell you had me put in place to keep Santa’s workshop hidden is wearing thin with all the tug and pull of the weather. Do you really want me to patch it up?”

“Drat,” Santa mumbled into his long white beard. His fingers stroked it almost instinctively for good luck. “The sound of those jets disturbs my reindeer. Christmas is becoming too complicated. I sent a gold plated message to Trump to make the holiday great again, but he wanted too much of a cash bribe.”

The festive holiday spirit that comes with the Christmas season flickered before strengthening, cheering Tinkerbell and Santa back up. Santa took a deep breath of it in, held it, and let it out again. “I think it’s time for my backup plan.”

Tinkerbell looked confused. “Which one?”

Santa had so many. With only one day a year when he was actually employed, he spent the rest of the year dreaming up ‘what if’s’.

“We’re moving Santa’s Workshop to the moon. We’ll establish headquarters there.” Santa adjusted his thick black belt and motioned for Tinkerbell to begin throwing her magic dust around.

Tink turned to him, “You want me to move the whole kit and kaboodle without telling Mrs. Claus?”

That brought Santa’s newly formed smile to a stop. “Drat,” he said for the second time in almost a century. “I forgot. She’s always so pleasant and supportive, she wouldn’t make a fuss, but in her heart I know she’s accustomed to this place. She does so love skiing.”

“And there’s her best friend, Frosty the Snow Man, remember. She’d have to leave him behind.”

“Perhaps we could keep our present location as a winter vacation spot used one day a year,” Santa pondered, rubbing a finger against his nose. It was a signal for his own small magic to come alive. Up the workshop chimney he rose, floated through the air, and deposited himself down the fireplace where Mrs. Claus was at.

“Ho, ho, ho. Surprised you,” he gleefully chuckled, embracing his wife.

“I’ve been busy while you’ve been gone. Have you noticed?” She pointed up to the latest winter snowstorm, making it fade away into brilliant blue sky. “No more jets.” She kissed Santa’s cheek, waiting for his admiration.

“What, what?” Mrs. Claus was always moving things around at home, to keep things interesting. Santa paused to take a look. There was a new mountain with ski bump sized rolling hills covered with fresh dry snow, perfect for her favorite sport.

“Yes. You know how the IRM satellites take into account Earth’s not being perfectly round to adjust the perfect point of the North pole? It now favors miles away from us.” GPS based on IRM coordinates used around the world for air traffic would now automatically make adjustments. Santa's Workshop was now a no fly zone.

Tinkerbell came rushing with the latest news. “Oh. You already know. The IRM is changing things again. We can stay where we are.” She thrust her pixie dust back in her magic bag where it belonged. "Maybe I'll fly over and see how Peter and his family are doing. Hook has been bothering the magic kingdom again."

Santa gave Mrs. Claus a cheery kiss right on her ruby red lips. “How about scheduling a vacation to our new summer camp on the moon, for a change of scene? You do love the view of the stars.”

Wc 650