The little girl finished up her Christmas business with Santa, and joined us. She gazed at me solemnly, with deep-down-dark eyes. Her mother smiled, then took her by the hand and led her away. The girl looked back over her shoulder at me. I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat; I didn’t want them to go. Chloe was standing next to Santa Claus on his throne, and she motioned me up. One of the green elves unhooked a velvet rope, and then latched it closed behind me. “Santa’s going on his milk-and-cookies break now,” I heard her say to the people in line. “You’ll have to wait. He’ll be back in eleven minutes.” The old man stood up with great difficulty as I approached. When he straightened, he was much taller than I expected, several inches over six feet… perhaps even seven feet tall. He peered at me over his half-glasses, and smoothed the red fur over his belly. “Don’t introduce us,” he said to Chloe, peevishly. “He thinks he’s known about Santa Claus his whole life. He supposes he knows who I am, even when he doesn’t.” “He’s… nice, but he doesn’t know a thing about anything,” she agreed. “Not yet.” The old man took hold of a cane that was leaning on the throne, and we followed him as he hobbled slowly through an arch marked ‘Company Employees Only’. In front of us was a hallway lined with doors, so long that the end of it wasn’t visible. He gestured us to follow him. Once into the hallway, he started to walk faster, then faster, and then faster still, until we were all running. Doors flashed by in a blur. I was quickly out of breath, and felt my feet going out from under me. As I started to fall, Chloe caught my hand and gave it a tug. I was suddenly weightless, flying behind them, pulled along by her hand. Somewhere along the way, the discarded cane whistled the air as it spun by. At last, Santa slowed and landed, and my own feet touched the floor again. I looked back the way we had come, but the department store was out of sight, far down the endless hallway. He opened one of the doors to reveal a room that was lined with pale green lockers. He strode in, found the locker he wanted and threw it open. “Turn around, please,” he said. “I need to change out of this awful costume. Let me at least pretend to have some privacy.” He was undoing his broad black belt as we did what he asked. I glanced at Chloe. “How can anyone that fat run so fast?” I whispered. “Were we really flying? What kind of Santa Claus is he, anyway?” She hugged herself, trying not to laugh. Her face was flushed, and she wouldn’t meet my eye. “This is going to be so much fun,” she whispered in my ear. “Wait… you’re going to love it. Just wait.” ( -A Christmas Song for Chloe) 4 Days... to be continued
Posted on: Sun, 21 Dec 2014 14:27:02 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015