“Jason, I’ve been thinkin’. Maybe it’s time to change things this year.”
“What do you mean?” Jason did not look up from the morning paper.
“You know, my Santa Claus gig at the mall.”
Jason put the paper down and looked across the breakfast table at his friend. “Oh, no. That has worked smooth as silk for years. Why would you want to change it now?”
“Well, I still like talking with the kids just fine. They’re really cool, most of them. But I’m cravin’ more adult contact. It gets worse every year. Don’t get mad, I mean you’re a great friend and all, but I just need to talk to some other people once in a while.”
“Okay, okay. I follow you, but you scare me with some of your ideas. What do you have in mind?”
“Think about this. There’s other places, besides the malls, that have a guy dressed up like Santa Claus at Christmas – how about that big pet super-store over on the boulevard.”
Jason looked surprised. “Really, you’d do that? Wouldn’t it be a big come-down, switching from the mall’s fancy North Pole Village to a pet shop?”
“I know what you’re thinking, but let me explain. I saw an ad in the paper last year. People can bring their dog in to the pet store and have its picture taken with Santa. Well, I checked it out. I waited for a really cold day, and I wore my blue parka with the hood pulled tight on my face, and I kept my sunglasses on inside, so nobody noticed me at all.”
Jason stiffened, his eyes showed dismay. “Hey, that’s not what you said would be the deal when you asked me to help you disappear. That was an unnecessary risk. See what I mean about you scaring me.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, Jason, but I was real careful and everything went fine. So, I watched the whole picture-taking-set-up at the pet store. They’ve got this wooden platform covered with a green rug. The dog sits on it in front of the Santa Claus. Behind them is a screen with a picture of a Christmas tree and stockings hanging from a mantle. Anyway, there is a lot of chitchat between Santa and the dog owners while the pose is being set up and after the photographer snaps the picture.”
Jason got up from the breakfast table and poured more hot coffee into his cup.
“Look, I understand. You would talk to adults more at the pet store than at the mall, but that just increases the risk. What about your voice? You’ll be near people for extended periods of time, having all this chitchat with them. Somebody is going to recognize you.”
“No, Jason, I don’t think so. This is 1984. Nobody is thinkin’ about me any more.” He squirmed in his chair, and then flashed a smile as a new thought came to him. “Besides, I can talk all educated-like, if I want to, after being around you for seven years.”
“Very funny, but I’m not kidding here. This idea sounds very risky to me.”
“Oh, Jason, I can pull this off just fine. I know I can.”
“Well, if you ask me, you just want to change locations this year because you don’t want to run into Judy Parker again. She made such an impression on you last year, yet you won’t allow yourself to have any more contact with her. Why didn’t you ever call her after that one night? From what you said, she was a great lady.”
“Yeah, she was, and I think about her a lot, but I just couldn’t. You know that… So, anyway, what do you think about my new Santa Claus idea?”
“I guess there’s no way I can talk you out of it, but please be very careful. Will you promise me that?”
“Yes, Jason, I promise.”
“Good. I suppose you want me to pull some strings and get you the job this year at the pet store?”
“Right, would you please?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Six weeks later, a new Santa was working at the pet shop, and everything was going smoothly. He marveled at the clever process used to produce the photos. A cable connected the camera to a computer. Customers looked at four proofs on the monitor and decided which one to buy. Then, in a few seconds, a high quality 8 x 10 picture came out of the computer’s printer.
One afternoon, Santa looked up to see who was next, and his gaze froze into a stare. A handsome man in his late thirties talked softly with the photographer, while a large golden retriever sat patiently at their side. Santa barely noticed them. His eyes were fixed on the light-haired boy, about six or seven, who was with them. Thoughts raced through Santa’s mind. “That’s Judy parker’s son. That’s Todd. What a fine-looking young fellow he is. He’s sure grown up a lot in the past year. I can’t believe it. As much as it hurt, I never once allowed myself to see his mother again, and now he shows up here.”
Todd’s father led the retriever to the platform and easily got him to jump up and do ’sit’ and 'stay.' “Santa, what we’d like to do here is have a picture made of you and the dog and my son. It’s going to be a Christmas present from him to his mother.”
“I came up with the idea all by myself,” Todd chimed in. “Mom really loves Santa. Almost as much as Elvis. She has pictures of both of them pinned up by her desk at home.”
Todd’s father raised his eyebrows. “Well, it’s her house, so I guess she can decorate it any silly way she wants.”
Santa did not show the pleasure that news gave him. “I guess Judy hasn’t remarried.”
Todd stood beside Santa, the dog remained in a perfect ‘sit’ position, and the father moved out of camera range. Within two minutes, the photographer snapped four poses. Todd’s father went to the monitor, leaving Todd and the dog with Santa.
“What’s the dog’s name?” Santa asked.
He’s Mac. My mom and I moved to a house with a real big yard, so we got him. He’s a great dog. A lot of fun.”
“I’ll bet he is. Did you train him to behave so good, Todd?”
“Hey, how did you know my name?”
“Aaaahhh, well, aah. You know, Santa knows everything.”
“Yeah, but you’re not the real Santa. You’re just a guy dressed up like him.”
Santa whispered, “Todd, let me show you something.” Santa unbuttoned one of his shirt buttons and put his hand in. It came out holding his pendant. “Remember this?”
“Yes! You’re that Santa. Elvis Claus. And this is the thing that all the Claus brothers wear. Yeah, TCB. Wow. Neat.”
“Todd, how’s your mom? Is she happy? Did she ever remarry?”
“No, it’s just me and her and Mac, but I get to see dad a lot, too.”
“Could you tell her something for me, please? On Christmas Eve, tell he Elvis Claus thinks about her a lot. Okay, will you do that?”
“Sure, Santa.”
“Todd,” the father said as he approached them. “Let’s get Mac off the platform. We’re ready to go.”
Todd hesitated. “Bye Santa. I’ll do that favor.”
“What favor is that?” Todd’s father asked.
“Aah… to be a good boy.”
A few days later, near closing time, a college boy was filling in for the regular photographer. There was no one in line to have their dog’s picture taken with Santa. He sat still in a folding chair off to the side of the platform, his eyes glazed, his mind lost in his own thoughts. He did not immediately look up as a woman and a dog came up to the photographer and started talking.
The conversation went on for two or three minutes, and gradually the voice of the woman worked through the fog in his head and jolted him. He looked up. “It’s Judy. I can’t believe it. Todd didn’t wait ‘til Christmas to give her the message. Oh, man, she sure looks good.”
Her auburn hair was perfect, every soft curl looking like it had been sculptured. Her face was as beautiful as he remembered. Judy was wearing a thick, but figure-flattering Christmas sweater. It did almost as much as her tight-fitting jeans to stir Santa’s memories.
Santa saw her take five greenbacks from her purse and give them to the photographer, who quickly stuck them in his pocket, not the cash register. “What’s she doing up there?” he wondered.
Judy came toward Santa, leading the retriever. Santa, this is my dog, Mac. I believe you met him the other day.”
A shiver went down Santa’s back, and he could hardly speak. “Ah, yes. He’s a great dog. So well behaved.”
“Well, it looks like you get to have your picture taken with him again. This one’s a present from me to me, and I’m going to be in it.” She commanded Mac to jump on the platform and sit, which he did perfectly. Judy turned to Santa with an excited gleam in her eye. “Okay, how can you and I pose? I know. You’re a big strong Santa. I’ll bet I could sit on your lap like the children do. How about we try that?”
“Aaah… “
“Sure, that will work out just fine,” she said. Judy positioned the folding chair behind the platform. “All right, Santa, why don’t you sit right here.”
He obliged without saying a word.
Judy then walked in front of him and swiveled to face the camera. The back of her nicely packed jeans was now just inches from his face. She slowly and tantalizingly lowered her bottom on to his right leg. Not out by the knee. She sat back as far as possible and wiggled around a bit before getting settled.
“That feels fine for me. How does it feel for you, Santa?”
“Aaah, just fine.” Santa was starting to sweat inside the suit. He breathed hard to get calm, but succeeded only in over-loading his senses with her perfume. Her body against his felt wonderful. He knew she could feel the excitement surging through him. “Oh, man, what’s she trying to do to me?”
“Okay, now. Let’s pose for the picture,” Judy said. Santa did not notice as she moved her hand over and grabbed the bottom of his beard. In a split second, Judy pulled down hard on the beard and yelled “Now.” The camera flashed.
Judy released the beard and it snapped back in place. She jumped up, but Santa grabbed her arm. “Judy, what are you doing? Now my picture is in that computer’s memory. Are you trying to ruin everything for me?”
“No, I am not. I’ve got this thing under control. You just sit tight for a couple of minutes while I take care of some business, okay?”
Santa didn’t say anything as Judy went to the photographer. The picture was just coming out of the printer, and she grabbed it before he could. She stared at it, broke into a big smile, and shouted a loud “YES!”
Then Judy got serious. Santa heard her instruct the photographer, “Now, do the delete command.” She watched the monitor closely, and then said, Okay, now go to the recycle bin and delete it again.” Another few seconds, and she asked, “Deleted twice, so it’s completely gone from memory, right?”
“Yes, it’s gone.”
Judy smiled. “Okay, the store’s about to close, and you don’t have any customers here, so why don’t you take a break. I’d like to talk to Santa a little.” The photographer shrugged and walked off.
Judy returned to Santa. She flashed a big smile and held the photo up in front of him. “Well, I’ve got my Christmas present. It’s wonderful, don’t you think? I Love it.” She bent down and looked straight into his eyes. “Would Santa’s favorite brother like to get a present, too?”
He had no doubts. This wonderful, exciting woman had pushed his on-button. He answered with an enthusiastic, “Oh, man. I sure would.”
Her smile got even wider. “Todd’s with his Daddy again, so let’s get out of here. We’ll go to my place, and you can see all the posters of Santa and Elvis I’ve collected. Then you can have your present. It’s terrific.”
He closed his eyes to savor the flashback. “Yes, I know it is.”
© 2006 Philip R Arnold All Rights Reserved www.elvisblog.net