"Are you sure you want to do it again this year? One of these times somebody is going to figure out it's you."
“Oh, Jason, who’s going to recognize me wearing the Santa outfit and white beard? Nobody ever suspects a thing. You worry more now than back when you pulled strings to get me the job.”
“Why take the chance? Sure, you’ve had a lot of fun with this, but your streak of luck is going to run out sometime. Maybe some woman will recognize your voice and get suspicious and try to pull the beard off.”
“I just don’t think that will happen. Jason, I know you’re just looking out for me, but this is the only chance I have to interact with people. When I staged that whole thing in ‘77, I wanted to get out of the public eye, but I didn’t want to become a hermit. Heck, I really like talking to the kids. I’ve looked forward to this for eleven months, and I’m gonna do it.”
“I knew you would.” Jason sighed. “But I had to try.”
“Well, thanks for caring, but . . . you know what? I believe I need a few days in costume to get into character. Be back in a minute.” He turned and scurried out of the large living room, humming "Jingle Bells."
He returned in two minutes, stopped just inside the main door, and raised his arms outstretched. “Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas.”
In his red and white costume and white beard he made a distinctive Santa Claus. “You know, Jason, this suit has been taken-in twice, now. That diet you make me eat sure has taken off the pounds.
“I’ve seen other Santa’s that weren’t fat. You look splendid, and you’re a lot healthier.”
“Yeah, that’s cool.” He walked toward Jason. “Between now and when the gig starts, I’m wearing this outfit, and you need to call me Santa.”
Jason smiled. “Very well . . . . Now that that’s settled, would you like to head down to the pool table and watch me whoop Santa’s butt?”
"Don't be a smart-ass, or Santa won't give you any presents." They laughed and headed down the hallway.
Jason drove the brand-new, 1983 black Cadillac into the mall parking lot. Santa was in the passenger seat, checking out all the shoppers. They continued around back to a door marked ‘Mall Offices.’
“What time should I pick you up for lunch?” Jason asked.
“Ah, you don’t have to bother. I think I’ll just find out when the mall secretaries have their lunch break and join them.”
“You sound pretty certain they won’t mind you tagging along.”
“Hey, I’m Santa Claus. Everybody’s nice to me. Besides, I’ve still got that old charm.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of company during lunch. I’ll pick you up at four.”
“Right, unless one of my lunch friends wants me to go home with her after work.”
“Are you still hoping to pull off that crazy idea of yours -- making love without ever taking off the Santa Claus beard?”
”It could happen.”
Jason shrugged. “Right, see you at four.”
Santa took his place in the mall, and during the next three hours, he talked with dozens of children. His voice became scratchy, his throat dry, so he asked one of the helpers to get him a soda. While waiting for her, Santa stood and stretched. He noticed the good-looking, five-year-old boy at the head of the line, fidgeting at the delay.
The helper returned with a 48-ounce monster cup. Just as Santa put it to his lips, he heard a woman yell, “Todd, no. Come back here.” Santa turned as the boy jumped on his lap and slammed into the soda, dumping it onto his costume.
The boy’s mother hurried to them. “Todd, look what you’ve done. That was very, very naughty. Oh, Santa, I’m so sorry Todd spilled your drink. We both apologize . . . I wish I had a towel to offer you. You’re really soaked.”
“It might not be a problem. If I take my lunch break now, maybe it’ll dry before I need to come back.”
“That’s going to take a while to dry. I’ll tell you what; my Aunt Mary has the craft shop here in the mall. Why don’t you come with me to her store, change into one of her ceramic smocks, and I’ll run your wet clothes over to the mall dry-cleaners for some emergency service. They ought to do that for Santa Claus.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Good. Santa, please come with me this way.” She reached out and took his hand. “My name is Judy Parker. Sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”
Todd was already holding her other hand. She led the way to a quaint craft shop. They entered the store, and she pointed out her Aunt Mary attending to a customer. Judy gave her a small wave but did not stop, and they went into the back-room behind the sales counter. Judy took a smock from a hook and handed it to Santa. “You can change in that bathroom over there.”
In less than a minute, he changed and handed her the soggy clothes.
“Santa, I’ll just drop this off and come right back.” Judy headed for the door. “Will you be all right here with Todd for a few minutes?”
“Oh, sure, Judy. We’ll be fine.”
“Okay, Aunt Mary ought to be done with her customer soon and join you.”
After she left, Santa asked, “Well, Todd, tell me what you want for Christmas.”
Todd eagerly recited a long wish-list of presents. Then he noticed the shiny gold pendulum around Santa’s neck. It was visible behind his beard when he turned his head. “What’s that on your necklace, Santa? It looks like lightning.”
“That’s right. It’s a lightning bolt.”
“And letters, too,” Todd said. “That’s ‘T’, and ‘C’, and ‘B’. What do they stand for?”
“Well, aahh, I really can’t tell you. But I could tell you a make-believe story if you’d like.”
“Oh, yes, please, Santa.”
“Well, let’s see . . . aahh, maybe the ‘C’ could stand for Claus. Yeah. Like in Santa Claus. That’s good. ‘C’ is for Claus. Now, let’s see, the ‘T’ might stand for . . . aahh . . . The Claus . . . The Claus what? Aahh . . . The Claus . . . Brothers. That’s it. The Claus Brothers. So, this could be the medallion worn by the eight Claus Brothers.”
Todd’s face brightened. “So, it would be like if you had seven brothers, right Santa?”
“Yes, and each one brings presents to kids in a different part of the world. Heck, one man couldn’t do it all in one night. It takes all eight Claus brothers.”
“Wow, this is a good story. Tell me more about your brothers, Santa. What are their names?”
“Aaaahh, let’s see. Well, there’s Vernon Claus, and Aron Claus, and Jesse Claus, and Scotty Claus, and D.J. Claus. How many was that?”
“Five.”
“Oh, two more, huh. How about . . . I know, there’s one Claus brother that nobody likes. His name is Colonel Claus.
“How come nobody likes him?”
“Well, he’s greedy. He keeps half the presents for himself.”
“Oh, that’s mean . . . Who’s the last one?”
“The last one is Elvis Claus, Santa’s favorite brother. Elvis Claus is really cool. I let him deliver the presents to Hawaii every year.”
Judy Parker walked through the door. Santa grimaced. He had counted on having time before she returned to emphasize he was only kidding about the Claus Brothers.
“Mom, you should’ve heard all the good stuff Santa and I talked about. He told me about the eight Claus brothers, and about Elvis Claus being Santa’s favorite, and how Elvis Claus gets to deliver the presents to the kids in Hawaii.”
Santa immediately spoke. “Well, Todd, remember I said --”
Judy Interrupted, “Todd, will you please go up front and join Aunt Mary at the counter. Santa and I need to talk.” Her body was rigid, and her jaws were clenched.
Todd left the room and closed the door.
Santa started to talk, but Judy lashed out, “Listen, you big jerk. Where do you come off telling Todd those ridiculous things? Children stop believing in Santa all too soon, without idiots like you ruining the legend. Todd’s a gullible little boy. It’s hard enough for him already, with his father and I divorced, and then you have to fill his head with lies. I’m sorry I ever left him alone with you.”
She paused to get her breath.
“You’re right, Judy,” Santa said. “I’m very, very sorry. But you must know one thing. I told him clearly that I was just makin’ up a story. He knew it wasn’t true. He was just telling you that we had fun with it.”
“We’ll see about that.” She opened the door to the store. “Todd, honey, could you come here, please”
Todd came back into the office, and she asked, “Todd, Santa says he told you he was making up that story about the Claus brothers. That it was just for fun. Is that right?”
“Oh yeah, mom. He made it up as we went along. It was just something to do because he couldn’t tell me the real story about his pendant.”
“Thank you, Todd”
Judy turned to Santa. “Your pendant? Could I see your pendant, please?”
He reached behind his beard and brought the pendant into full view. Judy looked at it closely. She looked away as though thinking, then looked at the pendant again. Finally, she looked up at Santa. A small smile formed on her face. She appeared pleasantly intrigued.
“TCB, huh, with a lightning bolt. I’ve read about that.” She squinted her eyes. “And, let’s see, you said Elvis Claus is Santa’s favorite brother, right? “You know, I thought your voice sounded familiar before, but I couldn’t place it.”
She turned to her son. “Todd, would you mind going up front just one more time?”
Todd gave a disgusted shrug. “Ah, mom.”
“Please honey, it’s important. Just for a minute.”
Todd left, and his mother walked over to Santa and stopped just a foot in front of him. She looked him straight in the eyes. “You want me to forgive you for fibbing, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Only if you promise to do something for me.”
“Yes, of course. What is it?”
“I want you to pull down that beard and let me see your face.”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“You liar. First you fill my son’s head with rubbish and then you break a promise to me. You really are a jerk. I want to see you without the beard.”
She grabbed it and pulled it down, away from his face.
Judy gasped. “Oh, my gosh. Oh my.” She let the beard go and the elastic snapped it back in place. She looked stunned. Then, the expression on her face changed from amazed to inspired. She smiled and moved closer, like a cat playing with a toy.
“Say, Santa, there is one other way I could forgive you. Todd’s dad is picking him up here later. It’s their weekend together, so, I’ll be sort of playing bachelor tonight, if you know what I mean. How’d you like to come home for dinner with me after your shift? Maybe later, we can open some presents together.” She winked at him. “What do you think?”
Santa could barely contain the thrill surging through him. “Ah, yes ma’am. You bet. Thank you, thank you very much.”
He thought to himself, Man, Jason is never going to believe this.
She thought to herself, Aunt Mary is never going to believe this.
© 2005 Philip R Arnold All Rights Reserved www.elvisblog.net