HAVE A LITTLE FAITH
It was the first day of June and the Krauss family had just moved into the neighbourhood. They seemed quite normal – friendly even. After delivering a plate of cookies, Ms. Darleuse, Anna, described her new neighbours to her husband as “festive.” Charlie wasn’t exactly sure what that meant but he supposed it was a warm association. While Anna and Charlie would normally ask the Krauss’ over for dinner, Charlie insisted they wait until he was done with his “beauties.”
Charlie had been particularly busy the last few weeks with his “beauties”, his barnacles. Breeding barnacles was a favourite pastime for Mr. Darleuse, and one holding his attention for most of his adult life. In fact, it was his ultimate ambition to build a better barnacle. And that’s how he would explain to family and friends his inordinate fondness for Crustacea: “I'm building a better barnacle,” he would say. Charlie found that a simple and snappy response was helpful in tempering the dismay barnacle husbandry reliably elicited. And it was true. He was after a larger, tastier, and thereby more profitable, hybrid of Pollicipes polymerus. Charlie planned to sell his masterpiece to local speciality shops, seafood markets, yuppie urban grocers, and the finest dining establishments. He was also working on a marketing strategy for his “Crusty Kit,” a fun, do-it-yourself product he developed for fellow crustacean enthusiasts. Of course the fortunes that would flow from his years of hard work would allow him to retire from his day-job as a short story writer and focus on his true love. While Charlie was able to dramatically increase the size of his barnacles early on in his experimentation, it was the flavour that was the real struggle. However, Mr. Darleuse had a major breakthrough a few weeks back and was confident that he was now engaged in the final few breeding cycles that would yield his prize.
After a particularly long day, one full of unrelenting filter clogs, pump problems and a pH crash, Charlie was headed back to his house in search of a cold drink. As he neared his back porch he heard a cry from over the fence. “Shoot!” yelped mister Krauss. Charlie stopped in his tracks, leaned into some shrubbery, and peered over the wooden fence that divided their yards.
“Shoot!”, Peter exclaimed once again.
“You alright?” Charlie offered.
“Oh, hey there. Yeah, everything’s fine. I just broke one of the icicles.”
Charlie saw his neighbour kneeling beside a large and rather impressive gingerbread house. Shrugging, Peter shook his head with disgust, “They’re so fragile, ya know?” Charlie acknowledged with a sympathetic nod. He recalled last winter when his youngest, Velma, had been so eager to build a gingerbread house. Charlie had made the dough too thick, the icing too runny, and in the course of construction had managed to break about half of the pieces he hadn’t burned in the oven.
“You’re starting a little early this year aren’t ya?” Charlie noticed.
“Early for what?” said Peter.
“Christmas.”
“No no, it’s for the Elves.”
“The elves?”
“Yeah.”
Peter looked up fleetingly and with a confusion furrowed brow that suggested Charlie should know better. Peter chuckled to himself and then called to his wife, “Anna! Could you bring the icing?”
Charlie replied with a curious tone and look on his face, “What? You’re serious? Elves?” Peter grinned, raising his eyebrows and cocking his head as if to say of course. Gingerly, Peter picked up the house and motioned to his shed with it. “You should come over and look at the Workshop, I’d love you to see it.” Eager to investigate this elf business, Charlie met Peter in the alley behind the shed. Peter looked at his neighbour seriously and said, “Now, shoes off and, I have to say it, please don’t touch anything; this is my pride-and-joy and it’s nearly complete.” Peter, still holding the gingerbread house, had Charlie slide open the large panelled doors. Charlie discovered that the doors hid a most impressive and immaculate workshop. The whole space was festively festooned: every corner, from the floor to the ceiling, from the workbenches to the cabinetry, have finely carved or painted clusters of holly – each one unique. The space was also filled with an amazing assortment of very old tools. Every wooden handle and shaft was adorned with symbolism or scenery accented by a wonderful caramel patina. Ornately carved clamps, hand-drills, and planes hung on the far wall. Gilded tool chests and decorated boxes had their place at various stations. Charlie could only imagine the wonderful treasures that hid inside. Mr. Klauss carefully placed the gingerbread house on the central workbench.
A look of shock came over Peter, “Oh no, no no no. We don’t use the Elves’ workshop. My workroom is in the basement. And it’s certainly not as splendid as this.”
Suddenly, Ms. Klauss entered through the adjacent doorway, nursing a plump piping bag full of creamy white sweetness and whistling a peppy rendition of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
“Well hello there neighbour.”
“Hi, I’m Charlie.”
“Anna. Nice to finally meet you. Oh by the way, you must thank your beautiful wife for the delicious cookies – what a treat.”
Anna handed the icing off to Peter who began immediately repairing the breakage. He gripped the corner of his lower lip with his teeth and slowly leaned into the problem, squinting as he got closer. Charlie excused himself.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your work,” he offered with a friendly smile and quick wave.
“Sure, sure, we’ll see you later.” Mr. Klauss replied without stirring his fixations. Charlie stepped back into his shoes, closed the doors behind him, and crossed over to his yard, back up the path to his porch.
“Mr. Darleuse,” Anna appeared the fence.
“Charlie,” he corrected her as he turned to look at her. In the workshop he hadn’t noticed her dangling golden Christmas tree earrings and the finely embroidered elf on the right breast of her summer blouse.
“Curious,” he blurted.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, nothing– hey, so what’s this about elves?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your husband was telling me about elves.”
“Oh yes. What, you don’t believe?”
“In elves? No–” Charlie admitted, “no I don’t believe in elves.”
“Well that’s a shame. Why not?”
“I suppose I’ve never seen an elf.” He imagined himself stirring through a scattering of loose shale with a blunt pick exposing a tiny petrified hat. Further uncoverings would reveal a whole fossilized elf, all splayed and contorted like an archaeopteryx... Never wanting to discount anything Charlie thought to himself, I guess I’m open to the idea of little human-like folk living among us, but I’d have to see it to believe it. Instead of offering his thoughts he blurts, “Do you guys see elves?”
“Oh Charlie, don’t be ridiculous. Of course not! We aren’t crazy. Nobody's seeing Elves.”
Perhaps a little unsympathetically Charlie replied, “Well then how do you know that they exist?”
“We believe that they do” Anna offered with the most pleasant and disarming smile. “Charlie, the Elves, they give our lives meaning, fullness. They bring our family a great deal of joy.“
“But that’s like–” Charlie pauses to cast a net out into his imagination in search for a relevant analogy, something, but comes up empty. “But that’s not, well, reasonable. That’s not evidence of their existence. I mean, wanting them to exist doesn’t make them real, does it?”
“Oh Charlie, I wouldn’t want to live, or my daughters to live, in a world without Elves. It’s not about evidence. That’s not the point. In fact think you could say that our belief transcends reason or evidence.
“But–“ Mr. Darleuse wanted to respond but was dumbfounded.
“It’s about belief, Charlie. We believe that there are Elves. It’s a feeling, an instinct, a trust, a knowing deeper than evidence.”
“Deeper than evidence? What does that even mean?” Charlie murmured to himself. “But–“
“And it brings us all such joy and comfort. You would deny us that on a lack of evidence?”
“No, no. I’m just trying to understand where your belief comes from.”
“Our belief comes from our belief. I know, it's hard to understand when you're on the outside. Call it faith.”
“Alright. Hey, would your family like to come for dinner next Sunday? We’re having seafood.”
* * *
Over the following week spouses shared with their partners their amusement with their new neighbours. Sunday comes and dinner goes smashingly. Both families got along extremely well, with parents and children all thoroughly enjoying one another’s company. Despite the somewhat charged conversations earlier in the week, there is no talk of Elves. Charlie’s organic, home farmed barnacles were a big hit with his neighbours – even Velma, his picky eater, managed to have a few. To his delight Charlie learned that his neighbour is a chemical engineer. With several drinks in them, the men engaged in a rousing conversation about various applications for hybridized barnacles and barnacle parts. Anna and Emily bonded over their mutual passion for health and nutrition. Emily told Ms. Klauss all about her dental practice and that she's always looking for new patients, and even offered to give the Klauss’ some complimentary dental work. Anna took her up on her offer and called her office the following morning to make an appointment.
* * *
Later in the week Anna found herself in Emily’s dental chair. It was a cool but very comfortable space, almost living room-like. Emily stood hovering in a paper face-mask above a horizontal Anna, sporting a little paper bib. Ms. Darleuse removed her mirrored mouth prod from Anna’s gape. Emily announces in a very stern and business-like manner, “We’re going to have to remove two of your lower cuspids and two bicuspids. I’m afraid they’ve gotta come out.”
“My goodness, why? What’s wrong?” Anna worried aloud.
“They’ve gotta go.”
“Yeah, but why? Cavities, tooth decay, gum disease? They don’t feel sore or anything and I haven’t had any real problems. Four teeth?”
“No, no. I wouldn’t expect that you would have noticed a problem; we’ve gotta get them out before they become a problem.”
“But you haven’t taken any x-rays or anything.”
“Oh no, there’s no need for any of that.”
“Well then how do you know they have to come out? I mean, why those four? Why now?”
“Why those ones? Why do they need to come out now? Anna, this is my job, my passion. I’m a professional: you’re in good hands. Have a little faith.” A very tall and handsome man entered the room and placed a tray of dental implements on a nearby counter. Emily addressed him with a nod and said, “Joseph, if you could prep her please, I’ll be back in just a moment, thanks.” Emily removed her mask, exited the room, and headed off down the hall. When the footsteps were far enough away, Anna queried the assistant, “She still hasn’t told me why my teeth are being removed.”
“Just relax, Dr. Darleuse knows what she is doing. She studied for almost twenty years, and had extensive hands-on training during that time. And she’s been practising I.S. here for twelve years. She really is amazing.”
“I.S.?” Anna asked with confusion.
“Oh yes, Intuitive Surgery. That’s why you came isn’t it? You should check out our website. I.S. is based on nearly a thousand years of scholarly wisdom. Safe and accurate techniques have been developed through centuries of exhaustive research and development.”
“Yeah but–”
“Ms Klauss, Emily has performed nearly seven hundred surgeries just like yours, without any complaints or complications. She is very perceptive, you know, tuned in. She really does have an exquisite sense. She’s brilliant, absolutely brilliant. You’re in safe and loving hands; just relax, and have a little faith. She will be with you in a moment.”
Joseph smiled reassuringly and then turned his attention to a cluster of small, nondescript machines in the far corner of the room. Slowly and quietly, Anna swung back the arm of her reclined chair. She dropped her right leg off the chair and probed with her foot to find the floor. Then, in one swift gymnastic movement, she flung herself from the chair. Anna dashed out of the room, down the hall, and threw open the front door to the office. Emily’s secretary watched with bewilderment as Anna disappeared down the street with her little paper bib, cape-like, flapping behind her.
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