“There is no such thing as Santa Claus!”
The child stood indignantly amongst the others, arms thoroughly crossed. His eyes were narrowed beneath a thick band of frontal bangs.
“Well, I know that you are wrong!” came the voice of another little girl, “I've seen him in person, and if you can't believe me, then you're just stupid!”
The boy's nose wrinkled sharply, creasing together several freckles that lined his cheeks. Three other children were seated around a large campfire; the only source of light within the small room. The flames orange glow danced along the sides of the walls in ghostly flickers.
“Fine, we'll take a vote then!” he announced while turning to the others.
The fire played with the boy's glassy eyes in flickering fingers that mirrored within his pupils. The others straightened up a bit.
“Who here in the club believes that there isn't a Santa Claus?” he inquired while thrusting his hand to the dark ceiling.
He continued to glare, seeming to have a profound effect upon the other members. They each raised their own hands hesitantly, their eyes captured within the boy's stern bravado.
“There, motion passed!” he said triumphantly, “The club will no longer believe in-”
A great woosh noise suddenly filled the small space, silencing the sentence immediately. The children stood and ran as the once blazing flame was instantly extinguished. The boy peeked out into the darkness behind the security of a large recliner. Large, heavy footsteps echoed from the floor, reverberating a bit along the walls. None of them could move nor speak; each had taken refuge in different areas about the room.
“What's going on?” the girl whom had first spoken whispered to the boy.
He squinted in the soupy blackness, a large figure's silhouette barely visible. The sound of a large object striking the ground filled the room.
“S-Santa?”
He didn't mean to speak the name. It came from between his lips in utter shock. He saw the large red coat, the whiteness of a long, winter beard. The boy could even make out twinkling eyes of the kindly old man as he turned to face the source of the noise. He bent down to the large object and pulled something from it. His booted steps approached the recliner the boy was cowering behind. A gloved hand placed a small parcel upon the seat of the recliner before the man turned away and bent down to pick up the large and oddly shaped object from the floor. The next moment, he was gone with accompaniment of another droning swish.
A few moments passed in silence. The fire suddenly returned to the same burning, comforting glow that had once been. Each of them slowly crept from their respective hiding spots and congregated around the fire. The boy took note of the large, sooty footprints that now dusted the hearth of the fireplace, along with a melange of sparkling, wrapped packages now lining the decorated tree in the room. The boy turned, back to the recliner. A small box was resting upon the seat, accented with a shimmering golden ribbon and bow. He grabbed at the item and turned it over in his hand for a few moments in disbelief. His name was scrawled along the side in simple, black ink. He walked back over to the tree, placing the parcel under the tree. He felt eyes upon him as he continued to stare with wide eyes.
“So I think that there needs to be another vote,” the girl suddenly stated, catching the boy's attention.
She waltzed to the front of the fire, her hands on her hips.
“Raise your hand if you believe in Santa Claus.”
The other children raised their arms in the air immediately. She turned back to face the boy and meet his gaze with a smirk-ridden smile.
“Well?” she asked with raised eyebrows, “What is your vote?”
The boy's hand stretched upward with a greatly suppressed smile.
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