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“The Santa Clause: Good Night, Bernard…”By M.L. Zambrana Note:
This is a non-sequalized work of Fan Fiction based on the Disney movieseries, "The Santa Clause” (1994) and “The Santa Clause 2” (2002). This wascreated to satisfy some of the fans who wondered, "What happened to Bernard?"when he didn't appear in the third movie. Not for sale, publication or distribution.
Scott Calvin…
Santa Claus paused as he slipped on the heavy red coat with its white fur trim, and his plump fingers brushed along the fuzzy collar for a moment as his gaze wandered aroundhis colorful, bright bedroom. The room bore all the toys that a child could ever dream of,including a small electric train that ran constantly around the bed, and in and out of theroom to deliver everything from hot cocoa to freshly-baked cookies to him at any hour of the day.
Scott Calvin.
That name, which had once been his name, came to him every now andthen, and he paused to think about it for a moment as he always did when he rememberedit. Usually it resurrected itself from the back of his mind when he saw or heard somethingfamiliar, but at that particular moment, Santa couldn’t figure out exactly why he thoughtabout his old name.Santa had ceased to be Scott Calvin since that night many years ago, when he’daccidentally knocked a startled Santa Claus off the roof of his house. He’d been sure thathe’d descend the roof to find a dead man stretched out on his lawn, but only an empty redsuit lay in the deep impression in the snow. At his son Charlie’s urging, Scott put on theclothes, only to find that he’d locked himself into a contract… to be Santa Claus.Much had happened since then, but overall, Scott Calvin (now and forever to be “SantaClaus”) accepted his fate and relished the opportunity that he now had to be Father Christmas for the entire world. Oh, he missed little things about his old life now and then,like watching football form his recliner, and bigger things, too... It hurt him a bit torealize that he’d missed watching Charlie grow up. His little boy had become a handsomeyoung man, but for Scott— 
Santa
, his mind whispered, as a hint of a smile touched his rosy cheeks.
 
--Charlie had gone from a precocious ten-year-old to a teenager in a heartbeat. Hismother Laura and stepfather Neal had raised him… not Scott. But overall, Santa enjoyedhis life immensely. Without effort or conscious thought, he always found himself in agood mood; that certainly hadn’t been the case for the troubled Scott Calvin. He lived acomfortable existence at the North Pole, with his reindeer and his elves and…Santa swallowed and held onto the shelf above the fireplace as he slipped his stocking-covered feet into his boots.
We’re a few months away from Christmas
, Santa thought with some worry,
but  something’s not right. I can feel it.
 Santa belted his coat and waddled over to the door, then opened it and peered out into theempty but noisy hallway. He stepped outside slowly, shut the door behind him, then puthis hands behind his back—with some effort, since he’d grown a bit “jollier” over thesummer—as he walked towards the nearest factory room. Cheerful elfin chatter and thesteady rattle of their work greeted him at the doorway of the enormous work room, butSanta could not find it in him to wander around as he usually did and touch each elf onthe shoulder, inquiring about their work and supporting their tireless efforts.Instead, Santa stood and watched as Curtis, Assistant to the Head Elf, bounced from work  bench to work bench with a smile of delight, offering one piece of advice after another tohis fellow elves. Best yet, the other elves seemed to be accepting his words quite well;some years earlier, when Curtis first earned his supervisory position, there’d been a bit of resentment at his determination to “make Christmas ten times better than it was.” Buthe’d done it. The toys, the production line, the sled… everything now ran smoother andcame out at a higher quality of craftsmanship than it ever had before. Despite Santa’searlier concerns, Curtis’ promotion had turned out to be the right move for the NorthPole. Even the cynical Head Elf, Bernard, took his overenthusiastic understudy’s effortsin stride. He even doled out some rare nuggets of praise to Curtis every now and then.Santa’s slight smile faded as he thought of Bernard. Something hadn’t been right withBernard for a few years now. The dark-haired elf had been avoiding a lot of the activitiesgoing on. At first, Santa suspected that maybe Bernard wanted to slack off from the work.Curtis’ energetic contributions certainly overshadowed any ten elves put together, andmaybe Bernard needed a bit of a break after a few hundred years on the job. But whenSanta asked him whether he needed a vacation, Bernard scoffed at the idea.“What, and risk letting you down?” Bernard said at the time. “No way, Santa! Forgetabout it. I’m here for you, big guy, and I’m not about to let you down.”He then laughed out loud and went gone off with that lopsided grin of his, but there’d been an expression in Bernard’s eyes that made Santa stop and wonder about his headelf’s well-being.That look in Bernard’s eyes looked like fear.
 
For a couple of years after that, Bernard worked harder than Santa had ever seen himwork before. But the frenetic pace slowed down, as he knew it would, and Bernard became even less visible around the workshop than ever before. Now it had been a fullfour months since Santa had even seen him. When he inquired about Bernard, the other elves shrugged their shoulders, shook their heads and walked off. Nobody gave him ananswer.Scott Calvin would have grown irritated, perhaps even angry, at such behavior and at thelack of answers. But Santa Claus only felt a growing sense of curiosity… and trepidation.His worry over the missing Head Elf grew daily, but because Curtis had stepped up andtaken care of everything in Bernard’s stead, any concerns about getting ready for Christmas proved to be unfounded. In fact, Curtis had established a schedule that hadthem ready for Christmas five years from now.Santa’s eyes narrowed as Curtis brushed along through the room in his direction. Heforced a wide grin on his face and waved the roly-poly elf towards him. Sure enough,Curtis came at Santa’s wordless summons.“Santa! You’re up early,” Curtis said with a wide grin.“Yes, yes,” he replied. “Well, you know how it is. The closer we get to the season, themore excited I am to see how things are progressing. You’ve done a wonderful job on thenew batch of computer games, by the way…”As they talked, Santa put one hand on Curtis’ shoulder and led him down the hall, into aquieter realm of the facility. A number of elves wandered by them at first, but the farther they walked down the passageway, the less foot traffic they encountered. Finally, Santastopped and listened to the silence around them. Curtis did the same, his head cocked toone side and his pointy ears perked up.“There doesn’t seem to be a lot of activity going on in the bakery,” he murmured.Santa glanced farther down the passageway at a pair of oval doors. “Well, it’s a bit harder for the baker elves to plan ahead,” he pointed out. “Bake a gingerbread house too early —““And some kid who doesn’t know any better is going to eat it,” Curtis finished.“Unfortunately we can’t put medications for heartburn in their stockings.” He paused.“Although maybe we should consider some herbal remedies…”“Curtis,” Santa interrupted softly. “I didn’t bring you down here to talk aboutgingerbread. Or diarrhea treatments, for that matter.”“Did you know that a tablespoon of vinegar usually does the trick?” Curtis interjectedcheerfully.
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