An old woman wanders through a small town. It's unusually cold. An Arctic freeze shut down the winter wonderland carnival with a Charles Dickens theme had shut down for a few days and would resume after Christmas. The Madame Illusia has traveled to every country, but finds special love for America. There is so much opportunity here, she thinks. Lots of chances to do good, help out the men and boys struggling with problems. She rectifies those problems, setting them on the right path.
It was Christmas Eve and the winter sun dimly shone to illuminate the box stores with their generic decorations, and along main street the wreaths were up and the townsfolk were busy trying to get home before it started snowing again. Everything was still. The town was blanketed with cold, snow, and a sad grayness hung over a young boy whose father had left him alone for days on end. There was barely any food in the trailer. The food bank had given them pasta, rice, and some canned vegetables. He sat at home caring for his five year old brother while his father was out doing God knows what. Probably drinking and hanging out with low life blue collar part time criminals.
Ten year old Scott McIntosh noticed the old woman struggling with her groceries.
"Young man, can you please help me? This ice is so slippery. I must get to my car. My bones are not what they once were."
"Um...sure. Here, let me help you. Don't slip," he told her, cautious to take her hand when it looked like she might fall.
"Such a polite man. Thank you so much! My stars, it is so very cold, yes?"
She speaks in what sounds like an Eastern European accent. Scott went ahead and took grocery bags in both hands and dutifully followed her to an old pickup truck. He didn't think she looked dangerous. He was used to being around dangerous looking people; there were several that lived in the trailer park or who hung out with his father.
"Merry Christmas, ma'am."
"You are a good man!"
Scott smiled. It must be her English wasn't that good, he thought.
"I'm just a boy, not a man. Not for a few more years," he smiled shyly, modestly. He had flat hair, the color of old unpolished timber wood, different shades of light and honey=brown.
"I want to give you a tip! Please. Twenty dollars! You can buy something for Christmas!"
"Thank you!" Scott was so grateful. His father had only left him fifteen bucks before splitting days before, saying something about taking a job. If he did make any money doing odd jobs, he'd probably spend it getting a lap dance down at the titty bar.
"And something I think, from Santa, yes?" The old woman produced some sleigh bells from inside her giant parka. "My goodness, it is so cold! I like the warm weather better, yes? Now, these are magic bells, from Santa! He will visit you tonight and give you presents for being such a good boy!"
Scott tried to be polite and not laugh. He was too old to believe in little kid stuff like Santa anymore but adults always talked to him like he was...innocent. He had lost a great deal of his innocence. He felt like an old man himself sometimes, barely struggling to get by.
"Thanks, lady." He turned to walk away.
"You are very welcome, Scott!" Scott stopped.
"How'd you know my name?"
"Ah well, you are on Santa's Nice List! And um..you just look like a Scott," she dismissed him, and got inside her car.
The old woman smiled as Scott trekked back to shop for cheap toys at the Goodwill. She had chosen well, as she normally did. Satisfied, she drove back to her cheap motel where her son Stefan was trying to arrange plans with the winter carnival. Hopefully lots of families would visit this week before school started up again. Lots of chances to help others, Madame Illusia thought with satisfaction.
Scott was used to being on his own, but it was still terrifying. He'd tried to make the fifteen dollars stretch but his little brother Matt was home alone. Luckily, no one ever visited their trailer and everyone was busy with their families. He didn't want to leave Matt alone but he didn't want to drag the little boy into the freezing cold.
He managed to get a teddy bear and some coloring books. Matt had crayons, so that worked. Scott didn't believe in Santa anymore but he knew Matt still did. Ever since Mom died in a car accident, he had been the one taking care of his little brother the most. It was hardly fair. But he didn't have much choice. He stayed out of trouble, kept a low key performance at school. He tried not to attract attention. He didn't tell anyone how bad things were at home. When his father got drunk and raged at them, he tried to protect his brother. His father hit him instead of Matt because he was the one trying to plead and beg for his father to stop. He told Matt to run away and hide in the nearby woods whenever things got bad, but in winter they were stuck inside. He hoped Matt was nice and warm underneath a layer of blankets.
He managed to use the last of the money to buy some bread and lunchmeat for sandwiches, and a few chocolate bars. He needed to give Matt something.
As for his father Wayne, he could be anywhere. Probably drunk. Or driving around making deliveries. Or stealing shit to resell. They didn't have a lot and his father was barely keeping his head above water these days. Scott secretly hoped his father wouldn't come home for Christmas tomorrow.
Matt jumped up the minute he entered the trailer.
"Scott!" The boy ran to him and hugged him. They were all they had, he realized.
"Hey, Matty." He ruffled his kid brothers larger bulk of hair. I'll have to cut it before he goes back to school. We don't want anyone making fun of him for not having a haircut. Scott had to do everything a parent would do. He tried not to think about how much work it was. Other kids got to play video games all day or hang out, do fun stuff on their bikes. He was stuck at home making sure his brother was okay.
He made his brother and himself some sandwiches, which Matty ate happily. After that, he made some mac n cheese on the miniature stove. Scott did most of the cooking these days, since his mother had died a year and a half prior. A year and a half of hell. No one to protect him from Wayne's drunken rage.
He cuddled up with his brother on their small couch and they watched Christmas specials together on TV. He had hidden the teddy bear, coloring books and candy in his backpack. He would put them out for Matty to find in the morning, but he didn't have the money for wrapping paper. He thought of asking to borrow some from one of the neighbors but thought better. His dad had told him not to go telling anyone they were alone because CPS might take them away and put them in an orphanage.
"Will Santa visit us this year? He forgot us last year!"
"I know," Scott told him. "But...that's because there was the pandemic, remember? I told you about that. Santa just couldn't risk um...going to every house so he skipped a few. But for sure he'll come this year," Scott told Matty. He hated lying to his brother. He told Matty not to tell the other kids at school that Santa forgot them. Matty had cried in his arms.
"Okay," Matty replied. "I really hope Santa brings lots of presents this year!"
"Well...just remember it's not how much you get. Just know that Santa loves you and knows you're a really good little boy."
He managed to wait until Matty was asleep. Everything in the trailer was cramped so he left the presents on their small coffee table. This was sad, he thought. But at least it was something. Thank God he met that old woman. She was really cool, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night, he thought he heard the trailer door open and close. And...sleigh bells? He could see the door was closed. It was so cold so he snuggled inside his blankets. Must be some movie a neighbor was watching with the volume on high. He thought he heard Santa talking with his reindeer, with reindeer snorting and pawing the ground. What a great dream, he thought.
When he woke up, Matty was jumping up and down and screaming in delight. Scott got up and looked at the trailer in shock. There was a Christmas tree. In their small little square of a living room. Brimming with presents all over the couch, the table, and the hallway.
"Yeeeeeees! Yes! Santa came! He really came!" Matty squealed.
"No way," Scott whispered.
"Come on, come on! You have presents, too!" Matty squealed. "Let's open them, Scott!"
"Um...okay."
WHO DID THIS? Who gave us all this? Maybe some neighbor had done this? Or maybe someone playing Santa visited the wrong trailer and would reclaim the presents any minute...
But no, they were all tagged as being To Scott and To Matty and From Santa.
The bear that Scott had bought was gone. In its place was a wonderful, large teddy bear big enough for Matty to hug and a smaller bear about the size of the one he got at Goodwill, only much nicer. There were board games and toys galore. Model airplanes. Toy cars with a control joystick and batteries. Matty clapped each time, jumping up and down. There was a dart set for Scott, and baseball equipment, which is something he'd wanted for years. Every present was perfect. He felt like crying. Whoever did this...he wanted to thank them. It was a miracle. And stockings! There was nowhere to hang them but they were there on the coach, one for each of them, brimming with small gifts, chocolates, candies, and there was a fresh fruit basket full of pears, apples, oranges, grapefruits.
There was a letter to Scott attached to one present. Inside the box was a pair of cufflinks and a tie, meant for a father who had an office job. The letter was addressed to him on impressive looking letterhead from North Pole Headquarters Inc. It read:
To Scott McIntosh,
Scott. We have been appraised of your situation. Please know that you have our deepest sympathies over the loss of your mother. These gifts symbolize the care that other people have for you, which mirrors how much you have cared for your younger brother. It has been determined that you are much more deserving than you know. We are monitoring your family. Do not be concerned. Everything is going to be okay. Simply follow the instructions on how to tie a tie on the following pages and wear it around your neck. Place the cufflinks in your pockets. Part of your package will be delivered by the end of Christmas Day.
Congratulations for scoring so very high on the Nice List this year! We cannot visit every little boy or girl in the world, but you and your brother more than qualified for a visit from Santa. This qualification ensures that you will be given top priority as per our magical intervention policy as set up by the Elf High Council in 1683.
It is very important that you wear the tie as instructed. Trust us! We know what we're doing.
Remember, Scott. You are never alone and you have friends in high places.
Kindest regards,
Santa Claus, CEO of North Pole Headquarters Inc.
Mrs. Claus, Vice Chairman
Scott pored over the letter. This had to be a joke. Still, he didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe Dad would want the tie. Why not? He got dressed and hid the cufflinks in his pockets and then even though he felt ridiculous doing it, learned how to tie a tie all by himself, though it took several attempts.
Meanwhile, Matty was in little kid heaven. They hugged and danced around the small space they had left that wasn't covered in shredded wrapping paper. The tree shone with lights and tinsel. They had never had a Christmas tree before, Scott thought. He was so moved he felt like...laughing?
He was laughing. And smiling. It was Christmas.
Then the door slammed open and his father walked in the door.
A lean man who had let himself go somewhat, Wayne McIntosh was a good looking redneck with a goatee and stubble, short hair and handsome eyes, and anger immediately overcame him.
"What the fuck is all this? Where'd you get all this stuff??"
"Santa came! He finally came!" Matty told his father, overjoyed, and he hugged Wayne's leg. Wayne put down the McDonalds bags. He'd gotten breakfast from McDonalds for Christmas. That was going to be his big surprise and now it was ruined.
"Hi, Dad. I can explain. I think-"
"You better not have stolen all this shit from some other family. Is that what you did?? IS THAT WHAT YOU DID? YOU FUCKING STOLE ALL THIS SHIT! GET OFF MY LEG!" Wayne screamed at the five year old desperate for attention.
Matty began crying.
"No, don't cry. Santa loves you. It's okay. I love you, Matty. It's okay." Scott desperately tried to comfort his brother.
"And what the hell is this? A TIE?" Wayne attempted to grab it but felt a static shock...no...something stronger than that, electrocute his hand and arm. "What the FUCK? You better explain what's going on! Right NOW!"
Wayne smelled of liquor, particularly bourbon, and he was slurring his words slightly.
"Perhaps I can answer that," an old woman said from outside the trailer "Come out, everyone! It is such a beautiful winter day, yes?"
As if hypnotized, a man and two boys stepped down the rickety metal steps to greet the Madame Illusia.