The Yule Lads Diarys- Prologue

To say that this has been a trying few weeks would be an understatement.

I've seen some things I can't explain, I've seen my home invaded by things I never really believed in. I've played host to forces outside my control, and I paid the price. It has brought us closer, my brother and I, and closed a gap that I didn’t even know existed. Even so, I’m not sure what sort of psychological damage it may have done to him in the process.

If I had known how this would turn out, I would have never let him come stay with me.

I work on a farm in the northeastern part of Iceland. I'm not originally from here. I grew up in a small town out of Wales, but I was a bit of an overachiever. When my school offered me a chance to study abroad, I took it. My Dad raised sheep, also some cows, and had a little farm of his own, so agriculture had seemed the right way to go when my studies became more refined. My professor assured me that the things I could learn from the Icelandic farmers would help better my farming prospects in Wales. That was all Dad needed to hear. He paid the fee and wished me luck on my travels.

When I came back after a year in Iceland, Dad was already sick with cancer, and I was already sick with grief for the beauty of the Icelandic countryside.

When he died a year later, I took over the farm and finished highschool. Davin was three, barely off the tit, and no use at chores yet. Mom had spent the year that Dad was sick curled up in a bottle, and she never really crawled back out. It was up to the hands and me to manage the farm, and for the next three years, we tried. Mom, however, had no interest in raising sheep or growing crops. Dad had always been strict, old fashioned, and had certain expectations of our mother. With him gone, she fell in with less than admirable folks who soon spent Dad's life insurance and any other money he had left her. Mom sold the sheep, sold the cows, and when she began to sell the land, I decided it was time to go. The hands had left by then, mom hadn't paid them in months, and I offered to take Davin, but she refused.

She took him into Cardiff to stay with a girlfriend of hers, and I took the money I had saved and went back to Iceland.

I hadn't heard from her since, and I suppose I would never have heard from Davin again if Mother's "girlfriend" hadn't called me.

I had spent the last three years working at Frjósöm Skref, working as a shepherd and training under Olf to be a breeder. The farm was where I had worked when I was studying abroad, and Olf and I being about the same age. He was the owners son, and when I called him to ask if they needed a hand, his father had invited me back with open arms. I knew a thing or two about sheep and cows, but Icelandic livestock are a little different. The climate can be unforgiving, and I had a lot to learn about taking care of animals in this kind of place. His father, Arnar, had been having trouble keeping hands for some reason. When he realized I meant to stay, he set me up on his property and said he considers me part of the family.

I never pinned for Wales.

This was where I wanted to be, and I spent the next three years working my fingers to the bone and loving every minute of it.

When Tettrik came to get me from the fields one day, saying someone was calling about my mother, I figured she had died.

I was not so lucky.

When I picked up the phone, the caller identified herself as Tammara and told me my mother had run off. My mother and brother had lived with Tammara since they had come to Cardiff, and my mother owed Tammara a lot of money. Tammara would have thrown her out, but she felt sorry for Davin and had let my mom mooch off her. That was over now, though. My mom was gone, and Davin had been left behind. She couldn't keep him, she wasn't set up for that, and she had somehow tracked me down so I could decide whether I wanted to take my brother in or not. I looked at Olf, hovering not far off, and told him the situation. He told me that, of course, my brother was welcome here, and I told Tammara to set about the process of getting him here.

A week later, I went to pick him up at the airport.

He didn't run to me. He didn't even recognize me. He was a sullen and confused child of nine whose world had crumbled beneath him like bad ice. He had a single duffle bag with clothes that would barely handle the cold inside the airport, let alone out on the Stepp. It was December and freezing, so our first stop was to get him some proper clothing. He never complained through the process, but neither was he excited.

He simply seemed to accept what was happening and get through it.

As we rode back to the farm, I smiled at him from across the seat.

"Good thing you've got some new clothes there. We wouldn't want the Yule Cat to get you." I joked.

He cocked his head,"Yule Cat? Is that like a dangerous creature or something?"

I didn’t think of it then, but I realize now that it was the first thing he’d said to me since he told me bye when he was six.

I laughed, "It's just a story around here, litli bróðir. The Yule Cat comes around Christmas time, or Yule I suppose around these parts. He eats children that don't have new clothes in time for Christmas."

"Why would he do that?" Davin asked, interested but still a little nervous about the prospect of a giant cat that roamed around eating people.

"It's something from old times. They have all kinds of things like that around here."

"Does...does Father Christmas come here?" he asked as if hoping for a little normalcy.

"I suppose he must. He goes everywhere, dun he?" I said as I put a bit of a cockney spin on it.

Davin smiled, "Will he come visit us, you think?"

I smiled at him, clearly taking the bait, "Of course he will. We'll get a tree and some stockings, and I bet Father Christmas will leave you all kinds of things this year."

That was the tenth of December, my brother's first day in Iceland. I wouldn't officially start my journal for two more days, but I thought I should take this part down to preface it so that you would know that we started out well enough. We got him home and got him settled. He had his own room, something he wasn’t used to. It was little more than a storage room with a bed and a dresser, but the things he’d brought with him looked small in what was arguably a small room to start with. I had told Olf I was taking a few days to make sure he was settled into his new home, and we spent his first night catching up as the fire burned and we drank mugs of hot cocoa. He talked about living in Cardiff with mom, about how he'd gone to school and made friends while she partied every night and came home drunk when she came home at all. Tammara often went with her, and Davin usually found himself home alone. It was scary at first, being alone in a new place by yourself, but he had gotten used to it.

"I wanted to call you, at first, but mom didn't have your number. She said you had abandoned us, and it wouldn't do any good to call you anyway. You had found a new family and didn't need us anymore."

His voice sounded hurt as he said it, and I gave him a little hug as we sat together on my lumpy old couch.

"I hope you know that wasn't so. I came here to escape mom, but I didn't forget about ya, kiddo."

He smiled, "I know that now."

Things had gotten better once he'd started going to school. He had a place to be and things to do. Mom never really had any money, so most of his clothes were charity stuff, and some of the kids made fun of him. Some of them didn't care, though. His mates, Davey and Franklin, had been charity kids too, and the three of them had spent their afternoons grubbing for pocket money or playing in one of the parks near the apartment complex.

"Davey's Uncle was the foreman at the Cannery, and sometimes he would pay us to run errands. Mostly it was picking up pop or dinner for the boys that worked his shift, sometimes it was petrol for this machine or that. He always paid us pretty well. Davey said he felt sorry for Davey's mum, so he paid Davey a little to take some of the burdens off her."

"That must have been rough, being on your own so often."

Davin shrugged, "It was what it was, can't change it now."

Then mum had gone missing, and that had been the end of it.

"She'll be back." Davin said, sourly, "She owes too much money to her boyfriend. I heard them talking real loud outside one day about it. She'll lie low until he forgets, and then she'll come back to Tammara's. She did this same thing a couple years ago, ‘cept not quite for this long."

I let him do most of the talking, get it off his chest, and he went to bed in the wee hours of the morning after his yawns got louder and longer.

I hugged him good night, his sheets and bedspread brand new, and he was out before I closed the bedroom door.

December 11th

I woke Davin up early, and after some breakfast, we went to town to find a Yule Tree. Wild trees aren't particularly common, so we had to go to a tree lot and pay a scalper price for what amounted to a stunty little fur. The tree wouldn't have done for a posh loft in Wales, but it would serve our needs just fine. We got some ornaments for it, too, and drove back with a truck bed of decorations. Davin was in fine spirits as we rolled along, and I made a note to come back to the truck later that evening for the gifts I had picked up while he wasn't looking.

Father Christmas would definitely be stopping by this year.

Arnar was mending a fence near the house when we pulled up and came over to see what we'd found in town.

He grinned, his smile missing a few teeth, and said we'd found a fine Yule Tree.

"Hopefully, it'll be bright enough to attract the attention of Father Christmas," Davin said as he took the ornaments and lights out of the back of the truck.

"Oh, it's not Father Christmas you've got to worry about, lad. It's the Yule Lads you'll be contendin with."

"Yule Lads?" Davin asked, clearly confused, "Are they elves or something?"

Arnar laughed, and it seemed to rumble his whole body.

"You avent told him about the Yule Lads, boy?" he said, hefting the tree from me and taking it towards the house.

"They're supposed to be mischievous little pranksters." I said as I picked up the last few packages and followed, "There are thirteen of them, and each of them appears on a different day leading up to Christmas. Aren’t they supposed to be goblins or something, Sir?" I asked Arnar.

He set the tree down in the living room and nodded, "Trolls more like. They cause all sorts of mischief but are supposed to leave gifts behind too. It's all in good fun. Did Olaf tell you about tonight?"

I shook my head, "Nay, haven't seen him today."

"Tannus has come down with a bug, got him runnin out of both ends. He needs you to watch the flock tonight."

I looked at Davin, "Will you be okay on your own tonight?"

He nodded, but Arnar wouldn't hear of it.

"Take him with ya. If he's going to stay, he might as well get used to the life. Sides, it's just watchin sheep."

He told me to meet Gauff down at the sheds at sundown, and I told him I'd be there.

"Guess we better get to decorating; sounds like we have work tonight."

We set about decorating the tree and soon had lights up and the glass balls hanging merrily from the branches. Davin really came out of his shell as the ornaments went up, and his eyes sparkled the way that a nine year olds should. The dower boy seemed to have gone for now, and he was laughing and smiling as we trimmed the tree. Father Christmas would be hard pressed to miss it, and I made a mental note to wrap his gifts before it snuck up on me

As I stood with him, taking it all in, I felt for sure that this would be a Christmas we'd never forget.

On that note, I was right.