| Fiction | A.C. Hall |
The True Story of Santa Claus
A 2006 Christmas Tale
Harvey Abbot stepped outside into the cold night, leaving behind him the busy sounds of mass going on inside the church. The heavy wooden doors closed with a thud behind him as he reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. The usually busy streets were empty on this Christmas Eve, leaving Harvey alone outside the church. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. It occurred to him that it may be bad manners to smoke directly in front of the church, so he stepped around to the side. As he turned the corner he saw a middle aged man leaned against the wall. He had his back to Harvey and was hunched over. Harvey paused, not sure if he should approach the man.
“Sir? You okay?” Harvey asked cautiously.
The man turned towards him. Harvey saw a knife in the man’s hand and raised his hands. He slowly backed away.
“Whoa, I don’t want any trouble.” Harvey said.
“Huh?” The man said.
The man followed Harvey’s gaze and realized he was holding the knife.
“Oh, this. Sorry.” The man said.
The man put the knife in his pocket and held out his hand.
“Sorry to spook you. The name’s Nick.”
Harvey slowly reached out and shook Nick’s hand, still feeling a bit apprehensive about the situation.
“Harvey Abbot. What exactly were you doing there?” Harvey asked.
Nick pulled on his short, uneven beard with his hand.
“I was trying to shave this thing off. I won’t be needing it after tonight.” Nick said.
Harvey stared at the strange man for a moment, bewildered by what he had just said. He then turned away and took a drag on his cigarette, not wanting to be rude.
“So, did you come from inside the church?” Harvey asked.
“Yeah, I never really was one for long church services. I always get bored.” Nick said.
Harvey laughed.
“You and me both. My wife drags me down here every Christmas Eve. It kills me to come, but I do it for her. She doesn’t pester me any other time about church, so I figure it’d be wrong to cause an argument by refusing to come once a year for Christmas.” Harvey said.
“Well, she appreciates it. You’re a good husband year round Harvey and listen, between you and me, she got you that video Ipod you’ve been wanting.” Nick said.
Harvey pulled his cigarette away from his mouth and stared at Nick suspiciously.
“How did you know that? Wait, are you a friend of hers? Because ever since I came out here I’ve had the weird feeling that I’ve seen you somewhere before.” Harvey said.
Nick laughed.
“Nope sorry, never met her before.” Nick said.
“Well how did you know what I wanted for Christmas then?” Harvey asked.
“Well, statistically speaking forty three percent of American males between the ages of eighteen and thirty five list the video Ipod as something that they want for Christmas, so I could’ve just been guessing.” Nick said.
“But you weren’t were you?” Harvey said.
Nick shook his head slowly.
“No, I wasn’t.” Nick said.
“Who are you?” Harvey asked.
Nick laughed bitterly.
“I’m afraid you don’t have enough left of that cigarette to hear that story friend.” Nick said.
Harvey took a final drag on his cigarette and tossed it to the ground. He gave Nick one last look before turning to walk away. As he rounded the corner and saw the doors to the church he paused, not wanting to go back inside. Harvey pulled out his pack of cigarettes and looked inside, counting the number left. He pulled one out and lit it, then walked back around the corner. Nick was back to cutting his beard.
“Listen, way I figure it it’ll be another twenty minutes before the service is done and I’ve got six cigarettes left. That enough to hear this story of yours?” Harvey asked.
Nick smiled at him.
“It just might be.” Nick said.
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It was 1601 and I was in London.
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“Wait, wait, wait.” Harvey said, holding up his hand. “You’re talking about 1601, the year?”
“Yes Harvey, the year. Now please, just listen.” Nick said.
“Okay. Continue I guess.” Harvey said.
*************************************************************
It was around the end of the year, much like now and also much like now, I found myself at a church. Only, instead of hanging out outside, I was the one running the service. Father Nicolas was what I was called back then, at least by those who knew me during the daytime. I burned through church services, always cutting them short. It’s not that I didn’t respect the lord or his teachings, it’s just that I found my other life to be much more exciting. It was with a wandering mind and an idle hand that I first learned of the rush of thievery. I was walking through the market and spied some fruit on a table, but realized I had left my money back at the church. All of a sudden I get the idea to steal it. The notion of a priest stealing was so absurd that I simply had to do it. To this day I can remember how it felt that first time. My heart pounding in my chest, the sweat running down my brow. Leading believers in prayer and taking confession were both things that I enjoyed doing, but the church never offered me anything like the rush I got from stealing.
As the weeks passed I began to steal more and more. And not just fruit either, I was actually breaking into homes and taking valuables at this point. There were times during the day that my guilt would almost overcome me, but as soon as the night came I found myself prowling the streets again, looking for a new place to burglarize. As I began to amass a small fortune in items, I quickly realized that there was very little I could do with the things I had stolen. While I mostly stole for the thrill of it, I was also interested in garnishing my meager wages. Nowadays you can take stolen goods to any old pawn shop and get cash with no questions asked. Back then, however, there wasn’t any easy way to move hot items. Plus I had to be extra careful when trying to look into it so no one would get suspicious. Eventually I stumbled across a small network of thieves, all of them having the same problem I was. There was no easy way to move stolen goods.
Months passed and I became something of a figurehead in the criminal underground of London. Running church services and taking confession during the day, and running a thievery organization at night. With the lack of a reliable way to fence goods, I had begun to use the church as cover to move the goods myself. Buying goods from thieves and then reselling them. No one suspected goods being sold by the church, so I didn’t have to worry about that. What I didn’t expect was just how much of a demand there was for such a service. Before long I was doing more business than I could handle. Plus, having an actual way to move their stolen goods had been a huge boon to thieves. London and the surrounding cities were hit by a terrible crime wave. It got out of hand and a few people got hurt, so I called a meeting. I expected a few hundred thieves to show up, but I was shocked when more than a few thousand came. Not just from London, but from all over the country. They had heard stories about what I was doing and they were curious to see if it was the real deal. I walked into that room as a small time thief and somewhat of a figurehead in the London crime scene. I walked out the head of a European thieves guild that had come up with a plan.
1602 rolled around and things were great. The church was doing good and despite my habit of running short services, I was a well respected priest. Father Nicolas, my daytime persona, was having a great year. At night, things were also going well. My fencing business had grown a bit and thieving and crime were at a low, all part of our plan. Most of my guys were stealing just enough to get by, biding their time until December. Once it rolled around, that’s when our fun really began. The entire month was an all out crime wave. My thinking was that, doing it this way gave me some measure of control. Set loose year round, these guys were sure to hurt and maybe even kill. But by limiting them to only one month of heavy thievery, I reduced the chances of things like that happening. We only had two rules. One was that you never revealed who the leader was. Two was that you never hurt anyone.
That December was the most fun I’ve ever had. The entire country was hit by a crippling wave of thievery the likes of no one had ever seen. Better yet, at the end of it there were no reports of anyone getting hurt or killed. It took me a good six months to move all the merchandise that had been stolen, but the windfall for all of the thieves involved was huge. That’s when they gave me my new nickname, one that’s stuck for a while. Saint Nick.
Years passed and we stuck to our plan. It was now 1606 and things were going unbelievably. Our thieves guild was continent wide, with members all over Europe. My fencing business had turned into a full blown importing/exporting empire, all done under the flag of the Catholic Church. Of course, my intimate knowledge of God’s law caused me to feel guilty sometimes. I usually justified it by the fact that over the five years since I had become a thief, there had been no robbery related deaths committed by any member of my thieves guild. Lives were being saved, fun was being had, and coin was being made by the crate full. Then November 1606 came along and I had just finished some duties at the church. It was cold that night and I was walking late. I passed over the bridge, heading towards one of the hideouts in the city, when something snuck up on me.
All these years later I can’t tell you exactly what it was that approached me that night. I guess it was an angel, but trust me, it looked nothing like angels you see in paintings or in movies. This guy was scary and dressed all in black. He was tall and his very being seemed to move, like he was made out of smoke. When he spoke his voice was booming.
“Father Nicolas, you are a sinner.”
I dropped to my knees before it and cried out.
“Lord, please forgive me my transgressions.”
“You would kneel there and ask forgiveness, even while you clutch at a knife inside your robes?”
The thing was right too, I had my hand around a hidden blade and was ready to strike. I released the blade and looked up at it, into its otherworldly dark face.
“You’ve fallen so far you can’t even remember what the light looks like. Your thieves guild has made the month of December harsh on innocent people. People you swore to lead in worship and prayer, you now steal from and terrorize at the end of every year. Thanks to you what should be the season of giving, family, and love has become the season of fear, hoarding, and hiding.”
The spirit’s words hit me hard. I had been so caught up in it all that I hadn’t even realized just how bad it had gotten. Just how bad I had become.
“I want to make it right.”
When it heard me say that the thing laughed. Freakiest damn sound I’ve ever heard. Finally it answered me.
“So be it.”
The thing came towards me. I wanted to run but couldn’t. It reached out and as it touched my face a blinding white light enveloped me. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I was in a desolate frozen place. The freezing wind was whipping around me, tearing at me. The spirit was there and spoke.
“For two hundred years you will work to make right your wrong doings. Every December you will return to the mortal world and rectify your mistakes. Instead of taking from innocent people, instead of stealing from their homes, you will add to them. Whatever they desire in the holiday time you will acquire for them and secretly put it into their homes. The other eleven months of the year, you will spend here, at the north pole.”
Already I could feel myself freezing to death in that terrible place, so I cried out.
“But I’ll suffer and die here!”
“Suffer? Yes. Die? No. Until you complete your penance you will not have the ability to die.”
The thing started to rise up into the sky.
“Once December begins you’ll find yourself transported away from this place, back into civilization. You will not take from the people, but will give to them. This is your penance, Saint Nick.”
And then he was gone. I spent the first few hours trying to find shelter. After a while I just gave up and lay down, waiting to die. The angel had said that I couldn’t die, but the way I felt I knew he was wrong. My body was seizing up, I couldn’t move, and I just knew I was dying. I lay there, praying, looking forward to the pain ending. And it just didn’t. Hours passed. Then days passed.
But the pain never did.
That month was probably the longest of my life. I’d black out, and then wake up right back to the freezing pain. I was sure it had been a month, so I lay there thinking that any moment I’d be teleported into civilization to begin delivering gifts. I waited and waited and waited some more. Time seemed to stand still.
It was just a long, frozen, unending agony.
Finally, after what had seemed like months and months, I found myself lying in the streets of London with nothing but the clothes on my back and a strange red bag. It was December 1st, 1606. I wondered around, not quite sure how I was supposed to proceed. A young couple passed me and as soon as I looked at them, I knew where they lived and what each of them wanted. What’s more, I knew somehow that the strange bag contained these items. I reached in and sure enough, there were the items that these young people secretly desired. I made my way to their home and arrived right around the time they did. I waited outside until they went to bed, broke in, and left the gifts there for them.
In a way, it was fun. Granted, pretty much anything would be fun after freezing to death at the North Pole, but this was thrilling. It was a rush, much like the first time I had stole. Only now I was doing good. I was setting things right. I moved across the city, breaking into houses and leaving gifts behind. Over the course of the month I brought gifts to homes all across Europe. I worked nonstop to get it done and when the month ended, I found myself back at the North Pole.
I passed the eleven months as well as I could. I explored, I built a shelter, I prayed. Anything I could do to not go insane. The next December came, and it was back to delivering gifts.
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“Rinse and repeat.” Nick said.
Harvey tossed his smoked cigarette down and pulled out another.
“So wait, you were only Santa until 1806? How are you still alive then?” Harvey asked.
Nick stopped cutting at his beard for a moment. He had a faraway look in his eye.
“1806.” Nick said bitterly. “No, 1806 was different.”
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Two hundred years pass quicker than you think they would. It helped that I had so fully fallen in love with what I was doing. By that time Santa Claus or “Saint Nick” was widely known. Two hundred years of breaking into homes and delivering gifts had been fun, but as much as I loved it I was more than ready to return to a real, normal life.
You see, along with being able to suffer pain and cold and such, there was one more drawback of the situation. I could still feel hunger. There was nothing to eat at the North Pole, and the month spent in civilization was way too hectic to try and find some food. As starving as I always was, I was never willing to risk missing gift deliveries just to go eat. Something told me the spirit wouldn’t be too pleased with it. As the years passed though, it became all I could think about. Freezing to death is a sensation that you get used to, but the gnawing, hollow feeling of a starving stomach was just too much to ignore. Try as I might, I never really got it out of my head. By 1806 it was one of my main motivations. The first thing I planned on doing once I delivered the final gift that year was to go have a great feast.
It was late in the month, nearing the end of gift giving season. I had a hundred or so homes left to deliver to and then my sentence was complete. I break into this one house, it was a bit small but still quite nice. As soon as I came through the window the smell was hitting me hard, like a hammer to the face. Cookies. Fresh baked cookies. Just smelling food sent my body into a strange sort of upheaval. I felt ill and all I could think about were these cookies. I tried to block it out, I really did. I knew that digging through their kitchen and taking their food was wrong, so I placed the gifts and turned to get out of there. That’s when I saw them. The cookies weren’t put up or anything, they were just sitting there on the table. This huge pan of them, looking gorgeous and perfectly done. At that point it wasn’t even a conscious decision. One second I’m noticing the cookies, the next I’m shoving four into my mouth. I don’t really believe there are words to describe how good those cookies tasted. I quickly swallowed the first four and was reaching out for more when I froze. Without even turning around, I knew he was there. I stood there like that for a long time, thinking that maybe if I just stayed still and pretended he wasn’t there that he’d go away. Minutes crawled past and I finally turned around. Just as I had thought, that damn smoky black apparition was there.
“You were doing so well Saint Nick, it pains me to see you return to your thieving ways.”
My heart dropped, my mind raced.
“No, no, no, no, no. This is not what it looks like, I swear it isn’t.”
I was begging, pleading, but I knew it wasn’t going to do me any good.
“You’ve violated our agreement. For this act of thievery I extend your penance for another two hundred years!”
Its voice boomed out so loud, I couldn’t even argue. It was like getting hit with a wall of sound. The thing disappeared and there I stood, alone in this empty house. I couldn’t even move. I had been two days away from freedom. All of a sudden I was two hundred years away from freedom again. I finished out that holiday season in a fog, just on autopilot. When I was returned to the North Pole, things got bad for a while. I almost lost myself out there that year.
It wasn’t until around November that I came up with the idea.
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“Milk and cookies, right?” Harvey asked with a smile on his face.
Nick nodded.
“You got it. Milk and cookies.” Nick answered.
Harvey laughed.
“You started your own tradition! That’s genius man.” Harvey said.
“Well I had to do something. I knew that I might be tempted again. So I started spreading the tale. Santa likes it if you leave cookies and milk out for him. Since they were leaving it out for me then eating it wasn’t stealing.” Nick said.
Nick paused to cut off more of his beard.
“After that things got a bit easier. More and more houses to deliver to every year, but at least most of them had food waiting for me. Two hundred more years later and here I am again, on the edge of freedom.” Nick said.
Harvey dropped his last cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, putting it out.
“How many deliveries do you have left?” Harvey asked.
Nick pointed across the street, at a three story apartment building.
“That’s it. Eight deliveries and I’m done. After that I’m heading down the street to that all you can eat diner I saw, and from there who knows?” Nick said.
The church doors had opened and people were coming out now. Harvey looked over his shoulder, trying to spot his wife. He turned back to Nick.
“Listen, it was a great story and all, but you do realize that I don’t believe a word of it, right?” Harvey said.
Nick cut at his beard for a moment before answering.
“I didn’t expect you to. Truth is, I know for a fact that if our roles were reversed then I wouldn’t believe a word of it either.” Nick said.
“Still, it was nice to share it with someone. I appreciate you sticking around and listening.” Nick said. “Oh and by the way, your wife also got you a second gift, an antique watch. Try and act like you love it more than the ipod, okay?”
“I’m afraid you’re not helping yourself out any man. My wife and I always only get each other one present. It’s sort of like a tradition.” Harvey said.
Nick cut into his beard one last time, then put the knife back in his pocket.
“How does it look?” Nick asked.
Harvey examined him closely. The once wild and fluffy beard was now closely cut and neatly trimmed.
“Great actually.” Harvey said.
Nick smiled and reached down, scooping up a strange red bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
“Well Harvey, I hope you have a merry Christmas.” Nick said.
Nick walked past Harvey, out into the street.
“Hey Nick.” Harvey said.
Nick paused and turned around.
“I’m not saying I believe you or anything, but if everything you said was true, then what happens next year in 2007? When you’re done being Santa and everything.” Harvey asked.
Nick just shrugged.
“No clue. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Nick answered.
Harvey watched as Nick turned and walked away. He got to the door of the apartment building and tried the handle, but it appeared to be locked. Nick pulled some sort of tool out of his coat and raised it up to the door. He looked around, making sure no one was paying attention, and then slid it into the door frame. After a moment he pulled it back out and pushed the door open. Harvey stood and watched as Nick went through the door and closed it behind him.
“You ready to go honey?”
Harvey turned, surprised to hear his wife’s voice.
“Oh, um, yeah.” Harvey said.
“Everything okay?” She asked.
Harvey stared at the apartment building for a moment before answering.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. You just startled me is all.” Harvey answered.
“Good, let’s get home. I’m dying to give you your presents.” His wife said.
“Sounds good to… wait. Did you say presents? As in more than one?” Harvey asked.
His wife laughed.
“Maybe.” She said playfully. “I guess you just have to come home and see.”
Harvey and his wife began walking towards their car. Harvey looked over his shoulder, back at the apartment building one more time, looking for any sign of Nick. A cold chill passed through him and try as he might, Harvey couldn’t convince himself it was only because of the weather.