A Jerome Christmas
By hudsonmoon
- 1735 reads
The department store Santa punched out his time card and made his way out the back door, dressed in his Santa suit.
It was Christmas Eve and Jerome Heckler sat at the wheel of his mobile home and thought things over. He had been hoarding toys for the past few weeks and was ready for business. His original plan was to make an anonymous donation to the Salvation Army during their Christmas toy drive. But now he had a better idea.
Hoarding toys was a phrase Jerome had been using. He didn’t like to think he was stealing toys from Brickle’s department store. It made him uncomfortable. He was simply collecting the toys for their rightful owners. The children who’s parents couldn’t afford any.
At the stroke of midnight Jerome Heckler, dressed in his department store Santa suit, secured the plastic Santa sleigh with the eight tiny reindeer to the top of his Mobile home and drove off into a snowy winter’s night.
Jerome had his eye on a particular tenement building. It was the one in which he was born and raised. He knew he couldn’t make Christmas a good one for all the needy in his town, but he knew he had to do something for some.
Pulling into a spot in front of the tenement building, Jerome turned to face his helpers. Kyle, Lesley, Jason and Mellissa were the four teens who had taken the elf job at Brickle’s department store. Kyle was the first one to catch on to what Jerome was up to. So Jerome let him in on his plans.
“Man,” said Kyle. “You’re one badass Santa. You need some help?”
Kyle recruited the others and swore them to secrecy.
Before leaving the mobile home Jerome told his elves to grab a sack of toys each and to follow him.
It took a while, but Jerome had familiarized himself with all the names of the children in the building. He had even put a Santa’s Wish List box in the lobby. He wanted everything just right.
“We have five floors to cover,” said Jerome, “I have the fifth floor sack. Each of you stop at the floor that’s marked on your bag. Each present is marked with a name and apartment number. Leave the presents at the front door of each apartment. And please be very quiet. We don’t want to wake up the children.”
Santa’s boots and the elf’s shoes climbed each step like thieves in the night not wishing to get caught.
In apartment number 5B six year old Michelle Weller was unable to sleep. Wiping the fog off of her bedroom window, Michelle looked down and couldn’t believe what she was seeing parked below her window.
“Santa’s sleigh!” she said.
“What?” said James.
“Santa’s sleigh is parked in front of our building!” said Michelle.
“You’re nuts,” said James. “Everyone knows Santa parks on the roof.”
“Maybe he couldn’t find our roof,” said Michelle. “It’s snowing pretty hard out there."
Five year old James climbed out of his bed and into Michelle’s. The snow began to blow a little harder and James had to strain his eyes to make out the Santa figure sitting in his sleigh.
“Wow,” said James. “You’re right. But how come he’s not moving?”
“Maybe it’s because we’re watching,” said Michelle.
“Then we’d better stop looking,” said James. “We don’t want to do the wrong thing. Last year he didn’t show up at all.”
James and Michelle closed their eyes and tried hard to sleep. Then Michelle sat straight up in bed.
“I forgot the milk and cookies!” she said. But James had fallen fast asleep and didn’t stir.
Michelle climbed out of bed and found her way out of the room in the dark. She didn’t want to put on any lights. If Santa knew she was up past her bed time he would cross her off his good girl list again.
She tip-toed past her mom and dad’s room. Then through the living room where stood the scrawny Christmas tree. Her dad had brought it home earlier in the evening. He knew if he waited until Christmas Eve he wouldn’t have to pay for the tree. He would just pick whatever was left behind by the tree vendor. And this year it was pretty slim pickings.
In the kitchen Michelle opened the refrigerator door with caution. She grabbed the milk and shut the door as quick as she could, hoping Santa had not seen its light.
In the cupboard she found the Christmas cookies she and James had made and spread some out on the Christmas plate. She poured out a glass of milk and put Santa’s snacks on the kitchen table.
Michelle’s apartment didn’t have a chimney for Santa to enter, so she reasoned that Santa would have to come in through the front door.
I better unlock it, she thought.
On the other side of the door Santa was reaching into his sack and picking out the presents. One marked James and one marked Michelle. Apartment 5B.
As Santa made to lay out the gits, his knee gave way and he stumbled against the door.
Michelle had to suppress a scream as Santa fell at her feet.
“Sorry, sorry!” whispered Santa. “I’m such a klutz.”
“Santa!” whispered Michelle. “I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I forgot your milk and cookies, and the door was locked and now your hurt and now I’ve ruined Christmas again.”
“No, no,” said Santa. “I slipped. It’s not your fault.”
”That‘s a relief,” said Michelle. ”I was getting worried.”
”No need for worry,” said Santa. ”It‘s Christmas.”
“Well?” said Michelle.
“Well what?” said Santa.
“Aren’t you gonna put the presents under the tree and have your milk and cookies?”
“Right,” said Santa.
Michelle helped Santa to his feet and led him to the Christmas tree.
“It’s beautiful,” said Santa.
“You’re a good liar,” said Michelle.
“No. I mean it,” said Santa. “But now I’ve got to go.”
“Not until you’ve had your milk and cookies,” said Michelle.
Michelle and Santa sat at the kitchen table, quietly munching on chocolate chip cookies and drinking milk.
“Now I really have to go,” said Santa.
“I know,” said Michelle. “Thank you for coming. We should do this every year.”
“I guarantee it,” said Santa. “Same time next year. It’s a date.”
Michelle leaned across the table and gave Santa a kiss on the cheek.
“Now off to bed with you,” said Santa.
The little girl ran off and Santa left the apartment.
Back in her bedroom Michelle peeked out the window just in time to see Santa’s sleigh take off into the snowy Christmas night.
The joyous sound heard the next morning from a certain tenement building in New York could be heard around the world and back again.
A Merry Christmas to all.
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Comments
Rich, you old softy you.
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I got all mushy reading
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I'm a proper Scrooge and
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Nothing like feeling mushy,
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This is our Facebook and
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Great Christmas story Rich,
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I haven't written anything
Thank you for being kind. Jan
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