“Who me? Santa Claus? Not a chance!” I said.
“You forgot ‘Humbug,'” Barbara scolded.
“Now don’t try to make me out as Scrooge. I’m just home from a busy work day, the week before Christmas, a report to finish and my wife wants me to drive across town and play Santa, for goodness sake.”
“Yes, for goodness sake. Old Mr. Schultz has the flu and if there isn’t a Santa at the town’s tree lighting ceremony it will break a tradition. How sad!”
“Let me think about it,” I said as I opened the closet door to hang up my coat and spotted a bright red suit on a hanger. “You took me for granted!” I said.
“I took your Christmas spirit for granted. You should be flattered.”
Ten minutes later I was walking out the door, unsteady in Mr. Schultz’s size 13 boots and adjusting my new beard. “How do I look? The suit fits quite well, don’t you think? “It was made for you, dear. Just think how uncomfortable Mr. Schultz has been all these years. He had to use a pillow.”
I drove to the town hall, arriving just in time to help the mayor light the tree. I ad libbed a few ho-ho-ho’s and had my picture taken with the high school choir. An easy gig. But I was detained on my way back to the car by a greedy little boy who insisted on reading his long wish list to me. It took five minutes and sounded like the complete inventory of FAO Schwarz.
I told him if he obeyed his parents, was a good student, said his prayers and voted straight Republican, he’d eventually get everything he wanted. He bought that and I crossed the empty square to find my car. I got in, turned the key and NOTHING! A dead battery!
My wallet and cell phone were in my other suit, the one without the white fur trim. Muttering Christmas carols, I walked over to Main Street just in time to see the last store lights blink out and the first snowflake side slip past a street lamp. I pulled my furry hat down over my ears and headed for home.
A man was walking towards me through the flakes and I thought he might be able to help me avoid a two-mile forced march. ” Oh Buddy! I called, “can you….?
“Santa Claus!” he shouted, stopping in his tracks and wobbling a bit. “You remembered my name! I meant to go straight home from work, but the guys were going to Murphy’s….”
“Can you give me a lift, Buddy?”
“I’d love to Santa, but I don’t think I should be driving tonight after my stopover at Murphy’s. But Santa, where are your reindeer?”
‘They’re at the vets, Buddy. Something about an annual antler checkup. They’ll be ready for the upcoming flight. Thank you, anyway. Now walk home to your family and have a merry Christmas!”
“Okay Santa. Wait’ll the kids hear about this!….Antler checkup ?” He was only a fading voice in the swirling snow by then as I trudged on, beginning to marvel at the credibility that went with my eye-catching red hat, jacket and knickers.
Further on I overtook a little girl and, probably her Grandma. The old lady was shivering in a man’s overcoat as she pulled a sled carrying the girl and a large overflowing bundle of laundry.
“Susie!” she cried. “Look who’s here!” Susie was about five with big blue eyes. I leaned over the sled and smiled at her. “Susie, I know you’ve been a good girl and I’m going to bring you something nice for Christmas. How would you like……? ” I caught Grandma’s signal….”a pretty doll to take care of?” She laughed and reached up to touch my beard.
I pulled the sled for a while towards the laundromat sign shining through the snowfall. It’s a beautiful doll!” the old lady whispered. “Just like the one you brought me when I was her age, remember?” I told her that I did.
I helped by carrying in the the laundry, not realizing the effect of seeing Santa walk in carrying a large bag. Everything seemed to stop in the laundromat. A young couple sorting clothes, paused and eyed me expectantly. A teenaged girl jumped back with hand to mouth and did an impromptu dance.
An old man stopped unloading a dryer to stare at me. I recognized him as a nodding acquaintance who was recently widowed. My neighbors said he was taking it hard. “Merry Christmas, Michael, I whispered to him. “Try to take comfort in the real meaning of the season, the promise of it.”
“Thank you Santa. Thanks for stopping by,” he said.
The snow was deepening, but I was nearing home and I made it almost without another incident. I told Barbara about the dead battery, but the homebound adventure accounts would have to come later. I was tired and accepted her offer of a mug of her famous chicken soup as I sank into the welcoming sofa cushions. “Aren’t you going to change your clothes?” she asked.
“Not yet. I want to dream by the tree with you for a while. ” She asked about my important report work. “Oh the elves will take care of that ,” I said. “Please come and sit beside me.” We gazed at the colorful lights for awhile and then Barbara said, “You make a nice Santa, quite authentic, but how did the seat of your pants get torn, Santa?
“I was jogging the last twenty-five yards to keep warm when I was joined by an over playful shepherd.”
“Santa wrestled with a shepherd at Christmas time?
“A German shepherd.”
Imagine That 