Jason walked into the living room and sat on the sofa next to his friend.  “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, as you requested, I contacted the manager of the new North Pointe Mall today.”

 “Uh-oh.  Doesn’t sound like I’m gonna get the Santa Claus gig over there.”

“No, you’re not.  In fact, nobody is.  It turns out they aren’t going to have a Santa this year.”

“No kiddin’.  How come?”

“The manager said not all of the construction will be finished in time.  There’s been big problems with the contractor, causing delays and even a lawsuit.  So, the whole project is months behind schedule.  Only about a third of the stores will be ready and open for this Christmas season.  The rest of stores don’t open until next year.”

“Man, that’s too bad.  I was lookin’ forward to workin’ at that mall. . . . You know, I really don’t want to do my Santa Claus thing at the pet super-store again this year.  Do you think you can get me back in at Mid-Town Plaza where I was two years ago?”

Jason looked uncomfortable as he shifted his position.   “I don’t know.  Maybe.  I’ll try, but there’s a bigger problem at North Pointe.  They’re going to have the center concourse and one wing of the mall blocked off during the Christmas season.  Since they can’t set up any kind of North Pole Village, they’re going to do something simpler.  They’re going to have an Elvis Impersonator.”

Jason flinched as his friend jumped to his feet, a dismayed look on his face.

“What!  Are you kidding me?  They’re not really gonna do that, are they?”

“The mall manager said they are going to have a small stage with a screen behind it that depicts some sort of Christmas scene.  The Elvis guy will be up on stage in front of an old Caddilac convertible, and he’ll sing along with karaoke tapes of “Blue Christmas” and one or two other songs.”

“Oh man, this is too much.  This is killing me.”

“Then, after the singing draws a crowd, the kids will come up and get into the front seat of that Caddy with the Elvis.  He’ll help them talk to Santa back at the North Pole on the CB radio, and then it’s photo time.  The manager figures there’ll be lots of mothers that will hop in the car, too, to get in the picture with Elvis.”

“Man, this isn’t fair.  That sounds like a terrific gig.”  He released a big sigh.  “Ah nuts.”

“The manager thinks they will get lots of press on it, too.  And that will solve their problem of getting people to come to a partly opened mall.”

“He’s right.  It will.  Somebody was a genius for thinking this up.”

Jason laughed.  “I knew you’d say that.  Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.  This is serious stuff to you.  Anyway, I’ll try to pull some strings and get you back in at the old mall again.”

“Good.  Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome, but will you level with me about something?  What’s the real reason you don’t want to go back to the pet store?  Is it because you’re afraid of bumping into Judy Parker again?”

There was no answer.

“I just don’t get it.  You know you care about her.  I’ve watched you do the same thing two years in a row.  After you and Judy have your glorious night together, you come home and talk about her like a kid with puppy love.  Then, you never contact her again, and you get all bummed out because you aren’t with her.  After a while, you just clam up, like you’re trying to shut her out of your memory.  It hasn’t worked.  I’ve seen you sitting alone dozens of times, lost in your thoughts.  You can’t tell me you weren’t thinking about her.  What would be so wrong about seeing her once in a while?”

“Jason, it’s hard to explain.  I would love to be with her, and I know she’d keep my secret.  But, she’s got a young son, Todd, living with her, and if things between us went any farther, it would get very complicated.  My whole deal could come unraveled, and her life and Todd’s could get messed up.  It’s just cleaner to stick with my original plan.”  He got up and walked toward the door.  “I don’t want to talk about it any more.  Please just get me back in at Mid-Town Plaza, okay?”

Seven weeks later, ‘Santa’ was back in the familiar surroundings of North Pole Village at Mid-Town Plaza.  Nothing there had changed during his one-year deflection to the pet store.

One thing, however, was different.  It was his attitude.  He couldn’t get himself psyched-up for the role.  He tried, but he was just going through the motions.  His mind kept wondering what the Elvis impersonator was doing at North Pointe Mall.  “What does he look like?  Can he sing?  Are a lot of people showing up to watch?  Do the people really dig him?"

Santa struggled with these questions for almost three weeks.  The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that the impersonator looked the part and sang great, and had huge cheering audiences.  Finally, he could stand it no more.  “I’m gonna go over to North Point Mall and check this dude out.”

Santa finished his shift at 4 PM and immediately left Mid-Town Plaza.  He was still in full costume as he headed across town in his new 1985 black Cadillac.  A flyer from the Sunday paper was beside him on the front seat.  It said the Elvis impersonator would be performing until six that day.

Twenty minutes later Santa walked down the mall concourse, the sound of Elvis music getting louder as he neared the stage.  Well, he sings pretty good, but he don’t look nothin’ like the real thing.

The impersonator was about the right height, but he was far too slender.  Also, the sequined jump suit looked poorly made and didn’t fit right.  Santa paused, trying to look inconspicuous, as though that were possible.  A few shoppers noticed him, but they merely smiled and continued on their way.

Santa watched the show intently for two or three minutes. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his stomach tightened into a knot.  A long-dormant fire raged within him as he listened to the man singing the words to ‘Blue Christmas.’

The song ended, and the Elvis went down the stage steps to help the next child up and into the gold Cadillac.

Santa quickly walked to the side of the steps.  “Say, Elvis.  You know you’re really cuttin’ into my crowds at Mid-Town Plaza this year.”

“Sorry about that, man.  No hard feelings, I hope.  It’s just a job.”

“I know, but you could make me feel a lot better if you’d do me a big favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t you let me get up on the stage and do one song?  The people would probably get a kick out of seeing Santa singing Elvis music, you know.”

“Well, I guess it would be okay.  I could use a break to sit down.  After four hours of this, your legs start to give out.”

“There you go.  Thanks buddy.  Say, do you have a tape of ‘Santa Clause Is Back In Town’?’”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, would you put it on, please?”

Santa bounded up the steps.  His body was not that of a young man, but, at that moment, his mind was.  It felt just like old times when he grabbed the mike off the stand and began to strut across the stage.  It was show-time!

The tape player blared.  As if by instinct, Santa belted out the first words.  His voice, though a little raspier than it had been years earlier, still caught the attention of the people near the stage.  Santa had the sound, the moves, the attitude.  He caught a glimpse of the Elvis impersonator, whose jaw dropped, dumbfounded.

The shoppers noticed the familiar voice, too.  The crowd moved closer to the stage, and more people came down the concourse to get a closer look.

Santa sang and hammed it up as if he had practiced for weeks.  Twice, he reached up to his neck to grab a scarf to toss into the audience, but there wasn’t any to grab.  Underneath the Santa hat and beard, his face glowed with happiness.  This was the best; he was in the groove.  The crowd of curious shoppers continued to grow.

The song came to its rousing finish.  The music stopped, and for a second there was a strange silence.  Then the applause started.  It quickly grew to a crescendo.  A thirty-something woman standing with two others shouted out, “Oh, Santa,” and did a pretend swoon.  Her girlfriends caught her, and the three laughed and shrieked like giddy schoolgirls.

Santa basked in the glow for about a minute.  Reality struck when he remembered his situation.  I better get out of here.  I don’t want mall security to show up.  He headed to the steps.

The crowd was slow to part when he reached the floor.  One of the three ladies laughed and shoved a pen and a piece of paper in his face and said, “Oh, please, Santa, autograph this for me.”

He tried to move past her but noticed the paper was actually that flyer promoting the Elvis impersonator.  His nostrils flared, and his upper lip curled.  “Yeah, you bet I will.”

He took the felt pen and put a big X over the impersonator’s picture.  Then he flipped the sheet over and wrote on the back, “Merry Christmas from Elvis Claus, Santa’s Favorite Brother.”  The woman squealed when she read it.

From behind Santa another woman’s arm pushed through the crowd.  It held a sheet of glossy paper, folded in quarters.  “Please sign this too, Santa.”

He reached for it.  “Sure, sure, but I’ve gotta split right quick.”  He unfolded the paper and did a double-take.  It was a copy of a color photo -- of Judy Parker, her golden retriever, Mac, and him – in the Santa costume with the beard pulled down.  He looked up, saw her face, her wide smile, her sparkling eyes.

“Hi Santa.  Haven’t seen you in a while.  Have you missed me?”

He sighed.  “Oh, very much.  You don’t know how much.”

“Yes I do, cause I’ve missed you the same.  Hey, you said you needed to split.  Let’s go.  I’ve got lots of news to tell you about.”

Santa looked around.  He did need to get going.  He made a move through the crowd, and she followed him.

“Judy, I don’t know if you should go with me.  It’ll be just like before.”  They were out of the crowd now, and walking briskly down the hallway.

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

“No, I mean afterward.”

I’ll take my chances on that.  You’re stuck with me now -- for the rest of the night.”

He sighed again.  “Okay. . . . I take it Todd’s not at home tonight.”

“No, he’s in Colorado.  That’s one of the things I want to tell you about.”

He didn’t immediately answer.  They kept walking, and the exit doors were now in sight.  “Say, how’d you know I was here?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“That was easy.  Aunt Mary moved her craft store to this mall, and I work part-time for her now.  Her store is practically in front of that stage, so we could hear everything.  I almost gagged every time that impersonator got up on stage.”  Judy stuck two fingers in her mouth, an they both chuckled a little.  “I’m afraid I ditched a customer the second I heard your voice, but I caught almost all of your show from the doorway.”

“Where’d the picture of us come from?” he asked, still walking steadily toward the exit.

Right out of my pocketbook.  I keep a copy of the original folded up in there, so I can pull it out every once in a while and look at you.  When that lady asked you for an autograph, I ran back in the store and grabbed it.

“I nearly freaked when I opened it up and saw what it was.” he said.   ‘Your surprises keep getting better every year.  Say, how’d you like my singing?”

“I loved it”

 “I was pretty good, wasn’t I?”

“You’re always good.”

He laughed.  “Are you going to pull my beard down again this year?”

“Yes, that and other things, too.”

“I never knew Santa Claus had groupies.”

Judy laughed and gave him a gentle shove to the shoulder. They came to the exit door and went into the night. 

Judy Parker and Elvis Claus had left the building.

©  2007  Philip R Arnold   All rights Reserved   www.elvisblog.net