Is That You Santa Claus? (bedtime stories for the child inside)

Is That You Santa Claus?

Sitting comfortably, boys and girls? Then we'll begin.

Little Alice had always looked forward to Christmas.
Especially Christmas eve.
Of course, she liked Christmas day, but, by then Santa had already been
and gone. Christmas eve is when she always sneaked down the stairs and
into the parlour. Not to feel and try to guess her presents, but to see if she
could finally meet the big man in red himself.
Santa.

Tonight was no different. As she lay by the fireplace, she hoped that this
would be the year that she did see his jolly old face.
Then.
What was that?
She thought that she had heard a tiny voice coming from the chimney. It
couldn’t be. Could it?
Taking the candle that her parents had left on the mantle, she peered into
the blackness of the chimney breast.

Feet.

Big feet. Not in large black boots, but in what looked like hessian sacks.
This was not her idea of what Father Christmas would be like.
The voice again. ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’
Only. It sounded more like. ‘Oh! Oh! Oh!’ More of a mournful wail,
than a gleeful Christmas cheer.
She coyly whispered up. ‘Is that you, Santa Claus?’
A quick jerking movement shifted some soot down onto Alice’s face,
as she heard. ‘Is there somebody down there? Anybody?’
Alice scrubbed her face with the nightgown that she wore, then putting
her face back to the chimney, she replied. ‘Yes. It’s me. Little Alice
Jenkins from London. Santa. I knew you were real.’
As a bit more soot peppered down onto her cheeks, she heard. ‘I’m sorry,
little Alice. But, I’m not Santa’
Looking confused, Alice then said. ‘If you’re not Santa. Then, who are
you? And, why are you in our chimney?’
That was when the stranger in the chimney stack relayed his fanciful
story to her.

He began. ‘Well! Many years ago, when I was just a boy, me profession
was as a chimney sweep. There wasn’t much money in it, but it ‘elped
put food on the table. All that I made, I gave to me dear ol’ mum. But,
one day, after coming home after a 'ard days graft, I found ‘er lifeless
body slumped in ‘er favourite chair by the fire. As you can guess, we
were pretty poor. An’ can you guess what selfless act me dear ol’ mum
did for me?’
He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘With a piece of charcoal from the fire,
she only went an’ wrote me a note, saying that, when she’s gone from
this earth, I should eat ‘er remains. Gawd bless ‘er. Well! Waste not,
want not, I thought. So! With ‘er being sat right next to the fire, I just
tipped ‘er in. It was 'andy, an’ I was starving after a day like I’d ‘ad.
It was only me an’ mum by then, as I was an only child, an’ we’d eaten
dad years earlier. After I’d ‘ad me fill, I’d left the rest to warm up me
tired ol’ bones, burning on the fire. As I watched the last little ember
disappear up the chimney, I felt an enormous sense of loss for me dear
ol’ mum. I tried to climb up after the burning piece of ash, all that was
left of ‘er. As I climbed up, I got stuck. An’ that’s where I’ve stayed
ever since.’

Alice pulled a blanket around her, as she lay by the hearth, listening
intently.
From the chimney stack. ‘What year is this, sweetie?’
Looking up. ‘It’s nineteen hundred and two, sir.’
The reply was one of cheery surprise. ‘Really?’
Alice rested her chin in her hands. ‘How long have you been up there
in our chimney?’
His answer shocked her. ‘Near on forty years now.’
Edging closer to the grate. ‘Gosh. How have you survived that long? If
you don’t mind me asking.’
Laughing. ‘No. I don’t mind in the least.’

He went on to recall how, he’d survived by eating a diet of bugs and
small birds that happened to stray into the chimney by mistake. What,
with it being England, there was no shortage of water, ‘as it rained so
bleedin’ often’ he remarked. It had been a lonely existence, but, for a
short while, he had been married.
She could tell he was smiling when he said this. ‘Beautiful, she was.
A real looker.’
Slightly confused. ‘Not meaning to be rude, but. How could you have
been married?’
He’d had no call to think of it, until now. ‘She was a beautiful seagull,
you see. Came down the opening one day, with a poorly wing. As she
fell, so did I. ‘ead over ‘eals in love. At least, I would ‘ave, if I wasn’t
stuck in this bloody chimney.’
They both laughed.
He continued. ‘Yeah. I nursed ‘er back to ‘ealth, but she didn’t want
to go. She’d fallen for me too. Within a week, we were man an’ wife.
I say we got married, but not in the conventional sense. There was no
ceremony, obviously. And the wedding night wasn’t consummated.
That’s, unless you call kissing her privates consummating the marriage?’
That’s about all we could do.’

Of course, Alice didn’t know what he was talking about, as he said
this. She merely smiled, down below him, enjoying the story, as it
unfolded before her.

Whispering up to him. ‘What happened to your’ She paused for a
second. ‘Umm. Wife?’
He sounded a little saddened. ‘We spent a good while together, all
seemed well. But, then.’

He trailed off for a moment.

Alice asked sheepishly. ‘Are you okay? Are you too sad to carry on
with the story?’
A slightly muffled reply came back down. ‘No. I’m fine. She got
sick one day. Only, this time I couldn’t ‘elp ‘er. It was over quite
quickly. But, she died.’
Sobbing down below him. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He choked back a tear. ‘Don’t cry, luv. It was a long time ago now.
Anyway, I couldn’t let ‘er go to waste. So I ate ‘er. It’s what she
would ‘ave wanted.’
Alice seemed a bit miffed by this and finally asked whether he had
wanted a hand getting himself out from the chimney in which he’d
been entombed for so long.
His reply was final. ‘Not really, luv. I’ve been up ‘ere so long. It’s
me ‘ome, thanks. If that’s okay with you?’
It was.
So, that is where he stayed.
He and Alice had much to talk about, and many adventures, in their
heads. They loved each others company.

The moral of this story may be.
As long as you’ve got friends and family to love and support you.
You’ve always got a good source of food.

They all lived happily ever after.

That was, until.

Dave Cheap, ‘The Chimney Sweep’, his ex boss, came to clear a
blockage that Alice’s parents said was in the chimney stack.
One push too many, saw the end (literally) of the stranger in the
chimney, and all his cannibalistic culinary delights.
Death by chocolate suppository.