Story 418: Late Santa

Hello to all! Season's greetings, HAPPY NEW YEAR! Sorry this is late!

Late Santa
by
Matt Zurbo

Santa was in a panic,
Santa was in a rush!

So much to do!

Kids seemed older these days! They all wanted him to prove he existed.

“No time, no time!” he’d fret, zipping from house to house.

Then there were all these apartments! No chimneys! He had to get clever! Squeeze under doors, pick locks.

Time, time, time spent!

Then there were all these new rules!

Rules, rules, rules!

No plastic, allergies, this and that.
Sure, he understood! Sure! He was allergic to wheat! He got it, he got it!
But late, late, late!

Finally, he got to little Missy’s door, huffing and puffing and six days behind schedule, stressed, because the sun was already up! Hoping and praying she was still asleep.

He reached for the door in case it was unlocked, but it opened as he approached.

“Hi Santa,” little Missy said.

“Gah!”

Santa panicked even more! He sweated and ran this way and that, and was so confabulated he forgot to use his sonic speed.

“Santa, take it easy. Have some bickies and milk,” Missy grinned.

Little did Santa know, the last house on his list held the most coolest girl on earth.

Missy was not “super powers” cool, or “fashion” cool, and didn’t have a lot of friends, or know which band was what.

She was just relaxed.

Santa didn’t realise this yet. He frantically scanned his list, trying to see what she has requested. It had been chaos up there. Lots of gifts had gone to the wrong kids! Anger, confusion, crying babies.

Bad, bad, bad.

Odds were, Missy’s horse or pony or doll house or whatever had been given away long ago. And there weren’t many gifts left.

Santa rummaged frantically. Rummage, rummage, rummage!  All he could find was a $2 bubble wand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding it out.

“Santa, chill,” Missy said warmly. “That’s not my gift. I haven’t asked for it yet.”

“Oh,” Santa said.

“My brother is a whiz at math. He figured out we are the very last house on your list. I want you to hang with me for a bit.”

“But, but…”

“Nah, relax, Santa, please.”

“But, what, but! A pony! A doll house!” Santa said, rapidly busting out some wood and a saw to whip something up. He was a master toy maker, after all.

“No thanks. Santa, please, chill. That’s my gift. To hang out with you.”

“Me!? WHY!?” Santa squawked.

He couldn’t help but feel he was late, late, late!

“Are you nuts?” Missy said, walking towards the nearest creek. The one with the willow tree with branches she could lie across the water on.

She liked that tree. When it was in bloom she could imagine herself in the country side, or somewhere nicer, at least.

“I don’t think I’m nuts,” Santa said. “Must rush, must rush.”

Missy stopped, giving Santa a stern look. ‘Why did she want to hang out with him?’ he had asked.

“Because you’re SANTA! Duh! And because you must be nice, I think. And because my present is to give you a present. Time to relax. That would make me very happy.”

“Oh,” said Santa.

He was starting to get it. Missy was, indeed, the coolest kid on Earth. He walked after her, a little dazed and confused. It was hard to go from working at the speed of light to this.

“Achieve, achieve, achieve!” Or so his Dad always said. “Don’t waste time! Act as if time is always running out! Act, act, act!”

And he always did. It was how he managed to do so much, much, much.

“Tell me, Santa,” Missy said, strolling through the long grass, “have you ever met any dragons?”

“Uh, what a strange question,” Santa said.

“It’s just that you’re a mythical being, and they are mythical beings. I was wondering is all. What are they like? They’re smart. Do you give them presents?”

Oh, Santa thought. She’s a thinker.

“I don’t suppose I have,” Santa said.

“Hm. Maybe they wouldn’t be so mean if you did,” Missy said. “Dunno. Sorry, just a thought.”

“No, no. No, no,” Santa flubbered. “That’s okay, I guess. Thinking’s good.”

“Am I taking your mind off things?” Missy asked. “Are you relaxed yet?”

But Santa was quite the reverse. He was out of his skin with fret!

Busy, busy, busy!

“Mistakes to correct. Receipts to check! Faulty toys to replace! I can’t do nothing!” he pleaded, as they reached the willow tree.

“Oh. Okay, here’s a stick then.”

“A stick?” Santa looked at his stick with a puzzled face.

“Yep. For my dog to chase.”

Santa looked behind himself to see the cutest little bundle of black fluff, with a small tongue panting in its head.

“Your present from last year, I love it!” Missy said. “Throw the stick.”

Santa threw the stick. The dog became the happiest little bundle of fluff you’ve ever seen, bouncing after it. “Arf, arf, arf!”

“Besides,” Missy said, laying on the branch that overhung the creek. “We’re not doing nothing! We’re hanging out!”

“But, but, but…!” Santa said, throwing the stick again, looking like he might burst.

Missy simply put her hands behind her head, and looked dreamily into the sea of leaves above.

“Dragons…!” she said with wonder. “Do you know giants too? What do you give to millionaire’s kids? Has anyone ever tried to trap you? Do good pirates get presents? Fairies? Have you ever been scared? Did you give my brother his super smart math brain? What was the cleverest gift you ever gave?”

Missy was hanging out with the most wondrous person who ever lived. She wanted to know everything!

More, more, more!

“I… well, that is… but, but… but… but……..” Santa slowly stopped to think, stick in hand, small ball of fluff jumping and arf-ing about his legs.

“There was this one time,” he said. “This African boy…”

And told her one amazing tale.

Then another.

And another.

Another, another, another.

“Wow,” he said, when he finally stopped. “Thank you! It felt great getting all that out.”

“You lead an amazing life,” Missy said, dreamily.

“I guess I do. I never thought of it like that,” Santa said, with a content little smile. “You know,” he added, at nice, normal, relaxed speed. “That felt great.”

“You should write a book,” Missy said. “One day. About your adventures.”

“Not a bad idea,” he said, then said nothing.

Neither of them did.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

They just hung out in beautiful silence, enjoying a lovely moment of timelessness by a creek under a willow tree.

 

 

The End