Christmas Full Throttle
Part 4: 18:10 at the Almond Stand
Evening came faster than Jonas’ motivation for homework could disappear. As soon as he got home, he threw his backpack into the corner, checked his messages, and grabbed his jacket. His mother stood in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot that suspiciously smelled like vegetable soup.
“Christmas market again?” she asked without looking up.
“Research,” Jonas said. “Important… uh… project work.”
“Mhm.” She sighed. “If your school grades were as important to you as this Christmas market, I’d be a very happy mother.”
“I already know biology,” Jonas muttered. “Mitochondria and stuff.”
“Then maybe learn the other words too,” she replied, handing him a hat. “Put this on. It’s cold outside.”
Outside, it was indeed freezing. His breath formed tiny clouds in the air as he walked toward the city. From afar, he could already hear the muffled chatter of the Christmas market — like the whole town had been set to “cozy mode.”
At the fountain, Lea and Sofia were already waiting. Lea had her notebook tucked under her arm like she was about to hold a press conference. Sofia had pulled up a huge hood and looked like a mix between a gamer, a ninja, and an Arctic bear.
“There’s our ninja influencer,” Sofia said. “Ready for stealth missions? Or are you gonna die of hypothermia first?”
“I’ll die from suspense at worst,” Jonas said, adjusting his gloves. “Where’s Mehmet?”
Just then, his phone buzzed.
Mehmet: “Almost there. Forgot my hat. Had to go back. Life is pain.”
Mehmet: “Save me a spot at the almonds 😭”
Lea rolled her eyes. “This boy is supposed to do a covert mission at 18:10 and is losing a fight against a hat.”
Jonas checked the chat with user017_xd. Still no new messages. No “haha just kidding, I’m trolling you.” Somehow that made everything even weirder.
“Alright,” Lea said, opening her notebook. “Update: It’s almost 5:30. Santa usually shows up around six. Our anonymous drama king wants us behind the almond stand at 18:10 to see who arrives late. We need a time nerd.”
“I’m your time nerd,” Jonas said. “I have a watch and no idea what I’m doing.”
Sofia nodded toward the stage. “The announcer is already here. Look — microphone in hand, smile like he’s about to host Eurovision, energy level 120%.”
Jonas followed her gaze. Yep — the same guy from yesterday, with a Santa hat, bright red scarf, and a microphone loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood.
“Just a reminder,” Jonas whispered. “user017_xd said not to trust people who pretend to help. Especially those with microphones.”
“He might just be an overmotivated Christmas market dude,” Lea said. “But yeah… he does have this ‘I’m powered by my own ego’ vibe.”
Shortly after, Mehmet arrived — hat crooked, out of breath.
“I’m here,” he panted. “Had to retrieve my dignity. It was lying next to the hat.”
“Good. Agent Almond is ready,” Sofia said.
Lea pointed at her rough sketch of the market. “Positions: Mehmet at the almond stand, I’m at the stage, Sofia at the drink stalls with overview. Jonas moves between us, films, and pretends not to have a TikTok addiction.”
“I’m offended,” Jonas said. “I also have an Insta addiction.”
They spread out. The Christmas market was even busier than the day before. Kids with glowing sticks ran everywhere, parents tried to keep up, and the playlist played yet another questionable remix of a classic Christmas song.
Jonas kept his phone ready, camera open, but not raised yet. That buzzing feeling in his stomach grew — the feeling something big was about to happen.
A few minutes before six, he texted:
Jonas: Positions check?
Lea: At the stage. Host talking to a lady from some booth.
Sofia: Got overview. I see mulled wine, chaos, and three people who look like their life
is falling apart.
Mehmet: At almonds. Smells amazing. I'm suffering.
Jonas zoomed in on the stage. Still no Santa — just the host introducing the children’s choir.
“Okay,” he muttered. “Everything normal. For now.”
The minutes dragged. 17:53. 17:55. Cold crept into his shoes. People moved closer to the stage.
A little after six, the program began. Jonas filmed a few clips of the choir — content is content.
He texted again:
Jonas: Still no Santa. Just kids and microphone-guy.
Lea: Backstage also boring. Lots of cables and one woman who looks like she hates everyone.
Sofia: No suspicious Santa. But three people dropped their food. Solid chaos rating.
Mehmet: I'm close to buying almonds. For scientific reasons.
Jonas chuckled — but deep down he was tense. 18:05. 18:07.
18:09.
The host stepped forward: “And now, kids, Santa will be here any moment!”
Jonas’ pulse shot up.
Jonas: 18:09. Eyes open?
Lea: Yes.
Sofia: Yup.
Mehmet: I see almonds. And people. And—wait.
18:10.
Jonas looked toward the almond stand — trying to see through the crowd.
His phone buzzed again. Not the group chat.
user017_xd: “Too late. He’s already there.”
“What?” Jonas whispered.
Then Mehmet:
Mehmet: “A guy just ran past. Red scarf, black coat, backpack. Looks stressed. Went behind the stand.”
Mehmet: “He smells like trouble.”
Jonas didn’t think — he moved. He pushed through the crowd, mumbling “sorry,” until he reached Mehmet.
“There!” Mehmet pointed.
Behind the stand was a narrow passage. Jonas caught a glimpse of someone turning left.
“Come on!”
Lea yelled somewhere behind them: “Stop running without a plan, you hobbits!”
But Jonas was already in the alley. Snowmelt. Dripping water. Dim lights.
The passage opened into a storage area. Boxes, bags, heaters.
And a man.
Black coat. Red scarf. Backpack open. A Santa coat beside him.
Jonas froze.
The man turned.
Young. Tired. Not a “ho-ho-ho grandpa.”
Jonas knew that face.
“Wait,” he whispered. “Is that…?”
The man blinked. “You’re the kid with the fail account, right?”
Jonas’ brain blue-screened.
Behind him, Lea, Mehmet, and Sofia arrived and froze.
The man sighed. “Great. Now I’ve got a student squad on my tail. Fantastic.”
Jonas finally managed: “How do you… know about my account?”
The man pointed at Jonas’ phone.
“I followed it before you made it private. And you forgot to hide your own friends in the follower list. Jonas.”
Hearing his name hit Jonas like a snowball to the neck.
The Christmas Challenge had just leveled up.