The Shoemaker’s Elves Help Out in the Walmart Parking Lot

by Alice Kinerk

Eventually the elves from the shoemaker’s shop got tired of their hard work was going unrecognized, not just by the shoemaker they’d helped out secretly while he slept, but also by the general public at large. Yes, their story was a fairy tale, but not the best known one by far.  Let’s face it. They were effectively the B-side track. The also-rans. The world read about them and shrugged. Meh. 

Who knows why. Probably because they were not blond, busty, and prince-adjacent. Doesn’t matter. For personal reasons, one day the elves simply put the kibosh on shoemaking and decided to seek their fortunes elsewhere.

That night Elsie, Trixie, and Pudding Cup talked about it, deciding to go to this Walmart place they’d so often heard whispered about by the shoemaker’s customers. They set off early the next morning. 

Once there, they looked for the shopkeeper. But everyone they saw were instead apprentices (wage slaves) and the owner was nowhere to be found. This was no bueno.  Helping struggling small business owners was in the elves’ DNA. Feeling discouraged, they trooped back outside to the parking lot. The heat of the day was coming on by then, so they took shelter inside a cast-off fast food bag.

Inside the bag, they lunched on soggy french fries and a slurry of melted ice cubes and flat Coke. They were feeling grouchy, as overnight elves will when forced out into the daytime. Elsie whined that they had been wrong to turn their backs on the poor shoemaker with whom they’d been for so long. Trixie argued they ought to head out of town and make their lives at a family farm, perhaps befriending some of the livestock there while they were at it.  Pudding Cup clamped his little elfin hands over his little elfin ears and yelled at his companions to shut the hell up.

As they sat there bickering, something was happening in front of their fast food bag. They turned to watch.

A scruffy young man on a lowrider bike had rolled up. He’d staked a spot underneath a maple tree about ten yards off, and now sat there quietly, poking away at his phone. Soon a pedestrian strolled over.  They exchanged a few words, shook hands, and then the pedestrian left.  A minute later, another pedestrian, and the same thing happened again. Then a third came, and a fourth. One by one, other cyclists, pedestrians, and drivers approached the man. A few words, a handshake, then gone. At first the elves couldn’t make heads or tails of it. They watched for a long time, trying to wrap their heads around what they were witnessing. 

“I don’t know why, but something about him reminds me of our poor shoemaker,” Elsie said mournfully.

Trixie nodded. “Me too. Why is that?”

“Duh. Cause he’s selling them something.”  That was Pudding Cup. He’s was the smartest, but also kind of a jerk. 

Elsie considered this. “But why sell them things here, in a parking lot?  Why not use his shop?”

Pudding Cup rolled his eyes. “He must be just starting out.  He can’t afford a shop yet.” 

“Oh.”

The precise nature of this man’s wares was not important. The elves felt sad for him. They loved to help struggling small business owners, and they loved labor-intensive secret midnight projects. So no need to discuss. They each independently came to the same conclusion. They would assist him with getting the word out in order to grow his business. 

They were relieved to have found a person to help.

That night, using cans of spraypaint pilfered from the Walmart shelves, the elves scurried up a nearby billboard.  Elsie kept lookout, while Trixie did the art and lettering. Pudding Cup instructed on spelling.

They worked and worked. When they were finished, the three elves scurried back down the billboard and crossed the road to admire their work from afar. And wow! Trixie was quite talented. The image was a photo–perfect recreation of the scruffy young man shaking hands with a customer. The background was on point too, so there would be no mistaking his location by the maple tree in the Walmart parking lot. Emblazoned beside, in all caps, the elves had advertised his wares as well as they knew how. 

BUY HERE! HE HAS THE BEST STUFF IN TOWN!

It was a masterpiece. A random act of kindness. The elves returned to their bag shelter full of pride.

But the next morning, the scruffy young man did not appear under the tree as he had before. The elves sat in the bag all day, waiting, and trying to figure out why. Was he simply a terrible businessman, squandering their gift of free advertising? Was today his day off? Had a jealous competitor taken him out? Was he ill?  

As the sun set that evening, Pudding Cup deduced that for whatever reason, the billboard must have upset him.  

So that night, the three elves again scurried up the billboard and began covering over their work, using with white paint on long rollers. This time, in the interest of efficiency, all three went at it and used no lookout. And unfortunately that was their downfall. Unbeknownst to them, the young man spotted them. It turns out he did not have the best sleeping habits. He was often up all night, cruising around on his lowrider bike. So he had simply hidden near the billboard behind a cement railing and witnessed the elves at work.  

He had filmed them, in fact, on his phone.

Most people know this, but when an elf is caught on film it must immediately take leave from the kingdom forever. It is elfin law. These elves had no choice. We can not know what fate then befell them, where it is they went, or if they ever found a small business owner to help out again.

Twelve years ago, Alice Kinerk planted bamboo in her front yard, despite neighbors who claimed she’d regret it once it grew out of control. It has grown out of control, but she hasn’t regretted it yet. Read more of Alice’s fiction at alicekinerk.com.