Tom hated his job worse than anyone and anything. He loathed getting up every morning before dawn, just to be harassed by customers, coworkers and his boss at the local mall. He worked in a small retail shop that ran along the west wing. This day was different, however. He had been chosen out of several hundred to play Santa in the center lane of the mall. He knew that it wasn't perfect, but sitting in a chair all day and still getting payed for it was a vast improvement from his regular duties.
He showed up to the mall as early as ever, this time sporting an over-sized red suit and frothy white beard. He waited with a kind of interested indifference for the mall to open along with three other workers he could not recognize. Each were wearing a green suit with pointed ears. His personal elves, he thought with a pacified grin.
In no time the mall opened, and with it came the children. He belted out his best Santa impression, adding a 'ho ho ho!' whenever possible with fabricated glee. His first child stomped upon his toes before plopping themselves harshly upon his knee. The second was a baby with bright blueish eyes and a blond curl of hair. Halfway through the visit he had a hefty helping of vomit upon his shoulder, of which the impatient parent had not apologized for. Steadily over time, child after child, his 'ho ho ho's became sparse and forced. As strange as it sounded in his thoughts, part of him longed to be back at his old boring job, and two whole weeks as Santa suddenly sounded like his own personal hell.
Lunchtime came to Tom's schedule, and left with a fierce swiftness that did little to lift his spirits. He knew he had another several hours to deal with drooling, snotty kids. He trudged back amongst the maddened Christmas shoppers and threw himself back upon the red-tinted throne.
“Merry Christmas,” he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, “Which child and I going to see next?”
A little girl stepped before him, her brown eyes staring blankly upon him. A fine constellation of freckles was smeared across her cheeks and nose. A simple chocolate-hued ponytail hung from her small head.
“Come on up on Santa's lap, little girl,” Tom said, sounding exceedingly uninterested.
The child carefully picked her way to him, ending with her legs swung around his leg. She stared up at him, her expression now expectant.
“Ho, ho,” Tom breathed out, “What would you like for Christmas?”
She paused a moment, fidgeting at her dress.
“For Christmas, I only want one thing, Santa,” she began, her eyes turned to the floor, “My parents back.”
An electric pulse went through Tom. He stared at her with a renewed energy.
“There was an accident three years ago,” she went on to explain, her voice sounding weak, “The doctors told me I was the only one left. I wish for them to come home every Christmas.”
She looked back up, those eyes boring into Tom's soul.
“Can it be this Christmas, Santa?” she said with a hopeful look, “I've been a really, really good girl this year. Just ask my caretakers!”
She pointed to two older people behind her. They waved simply.
“I-”
Tom's voice cracked. He was at a loss of anything to say. His eyes were blurry with tears.
“I'll try, little girl,” was all he could say.
“Thank you, Santa,” the girl replied before kissing him meekly on the cheek and leaping from him, to join the elderly couple.
“Thank you, Santa,” the girl replied before kissing him meekly on the cheek and leaping from him, to join the elderly couple.
Tom's heart felt as though it was going to force itself from his chest. He managed to hide his emotion just as the next child walked up to him with a shy look upon their face. He took a moment to wipe his eyes, then smiled down. Perhaps this job wasn't so bad after all.
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