Episode 3: The First Spark
There was no time to waste. With the Star of Wonder flickering toward darkness, Santa's elves sprang into action — and for the first time in a long while, the workshop rang with purpose. They loaded the cozy red tomato-ship from floor to ceiling with the finest toys Yuletide had ever made: wooden trains and brightly painted kites, board games and building blocks, balls and marbles and spinning tops, jump-ropes and puzzles and music boxes.
"Take the very best of everything," said Santa, supervising. "And take these especially." He pressed into Emil's hands a sack of toys that shimmered faintly with their own gentle light. "Toys made with a touch of Yuletide magic. When a child plays with one — truly plays, with a whole and happy heart — it sparks a little light of wonder in them. And wonder, my boy, is contagious. Spread enough of those little sparks, and they may just catch like wildfire."
"We'll spread as many as we can," Emil promised. "Where should we begin?"
Pip the head elf consulted the vision-globe. "There," he said, pointing to a faraway world. "A whole planet of children — a great city of them. And not one of them has played outside in years. If you can light a spark there, in the heart of the darkness... it might spread to a thousand worlds."
So off they flew. And when the cozy red tomato-ship descended toward the children's city, Emil and Tom's hearts sank at the sight of it.
It should have been a place full of life. There were playgrounds, and parks, and wide green spaces — but they stood utterly empty. No children ran in the parks. No laughter rang from the playgrounds. The swings hung still and rusting. The whole city was silent and grey beneath an overcast sky. And from the window of every home glowed the same cold, flickering, blue light — the light of a thousand lonely screens, each one with a single lonely child hunched before it.
"It's worse than the globe showed," Tom whispered, gazing out at the deserted streets. "There's not a single child outside. Not one. They're all shut away, all alone, staring at those screens."
"Then let's go and reach them," said Emil, hefting a sack of toys. "One child at a time, if we have to."
They began with the nearest home, where the vision-globe had shown them a lonely little girl. They knocked, and were let in by a tired, worried parent who hardly knew what to make of a boy and a worm bearing a sack of toys. And there, in a dim room lit only by the cold glow of her tablet, sat the little girl — perhaps eight years old, hunched and pale, her thumbs tapping endlessly, her eyes glassy and far away.
Emil knelt beside her gently. "Hello," he said softly. "My name's Emil. I've brought you something." He drew out a beautiful spinning top, painted in swirls of red and gold, and held it out to her. "It's a toy. A real one. Would you like to try it?"
The girl did not look up. Her thumbs kept tapping. "I'm busy," she mumbled. "Maybe later."
Emil's heart sank, but he did not give up. He set the spinning top down on the floor in front of her, gave its handle a gentle pump, and let it go. The top whirred to life, spinning fast and smooth, its red-and-gold swirls blurring into a shimmering wheel of color, humming a soft musical note as it danced across the floor.
And the little girl's thumbs... slowed. Just a little. Her eyes flicked — just for an instant — from the screen, to the spinning, shimmering, humming top.
"What... what is that?" she murmured.
"It's a spinning top," Emil said warmly. "Watch how long it can go. Want to try making it spin yourself?"
For a long moment, the girl hovered between the cold screen and the whirling toy. And then — slowly, hesitantly, as if remembering something she had long forgotten — she set the glowing tablet down. She reached out. And she took the spinning top in her small hands.
She pumped the handle, clumsily at first, and let it go — and the top wobbled, spun, and danced across the floor. And a tiny, astonished smile crept across her pale face.
"It worked," she breathed. "I made it spin!"
And as she smiled — as real, simple, hands-on wonder lit up her face for the first time in years — a faint, warm, golden glow began to shimmer around her, soft as candlelight. The spark of wonder. It had caught.
"Look, Tom," Emil whispered, his eyes shining. "Look. One spark. It's possible. We can reach them."
But their joy was short-lived. For at that very moment, a sharp electronic chime sounded from the abandoned tablet on the floor — and the cold blue screen flared bright. The little girl's head turned back toward it, drawn by the flashing light. And looming over the whole city outside, a gigantic holographic billboard flickered to life, filling the grey sky with a cold and smiling face.
"Children!" purred the voice of Mr. Vex, beaming down from the enormous billboard. "Don't put down your screens! There's a brand-new game, just for YOU — and only you! Why play with dusty old junk when you can have the newest, shiniest, most exciting screen-game ever made? Stay inside! Stay cozy! Stay with your screen — all by yourself!"
And all across the city, the cold blue light pulsed brighter, and the children who had begun, here and there, to glance toward their windows were pulled back to their screens. Even the little girl's hand drifted back toward her tablet, the warm glow around her flickering.
"He's fighting us," Tom growled. "The moment a child looks away, he pulls them back with something shinier. He's everywhere — on every screen, every billboard, all at once."
Emil gently took the little girl's hand before it reached the tablet, and pressed the warm spinning top back into it. "I know it's hard to look away," he said softly. "The screen is bright, and loud, and it never lets you go. But that warm feeling you just had — the feeling of making the top spin all by yourself — Mr. Vex can never give you that. Only real play can." He smiled. "And there's one thing even better than playing alone with a top. Do you know what it is?"
The girl shook her head, the top clutched in her hands.
"Playing with a friend," said Emil. "Tell me — do you have any friends? Other children, nearby, who are stuck inside on their screens too, just like you were?"
The girl thought, and slowly nodded. "There's... there's a boy next door," she said. "And a girl across the street. We used to play, when we were little. Before the screens." Her voice grew wistful. "I haven't really seen them in... a long time."
Emil's eyes lit up, and he turned to Tom, an idea blazing in his mind. "That's it," he breathed. "That's the secret, Tom. One child with a toy is a spark. But the spark goes out if they're alone — Vex just pulls them back. But children together — playing, laughing, sharing — that's a fire. And a fire can't be put out so easily." He turned back to the girl, his whole face alight. "How would you like to do something wonderful? How would you like to take this top, and these toys, and go knock on your friends' doors — and show them? Get them to come outside, and play, all of you, together?"
The little girl looked down at the warm, shimmering top in her hands. She looked at the cold blue screen on the floor. And then she looked toward the window, toward the homes of the friends she had almost forgotten.
"Together," she whispered. And then, slowly, a real and growing smile spread across her face. "...Yes. Let's get them. Let's all play together."
And outside, beneath the glowering billboard of Mr. Vex, a single small light of wonder began, at last, to spread.
To be continued in Episode 4...