“Right! I said, again. But now you’re on your own.”
All of this, of course, was being broadcast to the growing
crowd outside of the window.
My mother told me later that a man standing beside her in
the crowd told her that he came to watch and listen every day on his lunch
break. “And this is absolutely the best
one I’ve heard, yet.” She never said if
she acknowledged our relationship.
“A Bride Doll? A cash
register savings bank? A real life
sewing machine?” suggested Santa.
“No,” I said. “No.”
And, then again “Nope!”
Both of us were despairing.
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” I finally said. “This is no good. Handkerchiefs!”
The candy cane elf moved forward but Santa shook his head,
almost imperceptibly at her.
“No, you’re right.
This is no good. I’m doing a
terrible job, “he said to me.
Santa’s eyes, under his bushy white eyebrows, looked so
very sad and worried. He was such a nice man.
“Oh, it’s alright,
Santa,” I comforted him, and gently patted his red suited shoulder, but if you
could just make a note, a term used frequently by my family, of the Bubble Car,
that’s all I really need. And I slipped
off his knee, took my shiny gift and my candy cane and saw myself out.
Copyright © 2013, Robyn Gerland
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