Santa Steps Out: A Fairy Tale for Grown-Ups (19 page)

"Santa has asked us both to the North Pole for a week's visit. I told him that all depended on how you felt about it." It seemed as if her mother was trying to hold back her own glee but not succeeding very well.

"When would we leave?" Wendy asked.

"Right away, dear one," said Santa. "My sleigh is waiting on the front lawn and my reindeer are eager to reach home."

"Goody! Oh, but when will we open presents?" She didn't think she could stand waiting a whole week until they got back, no matter how wonderful their visit to the North Pole was. The whole time, she would picture the packages waiting under the tree, aching to lay her hands on them and tear off the wrappings.

"Well," her mother began tentatively, "we could—"

"We'll take them with us," said Santa, laughing. "My pack is empty. There's plenty of room for gifts."

Wendy's tongue knocked against the blank space in her front teeth. "Oh, I nearly forgot." Breaking free of Santa's arms, she pressed her pillow against the headboard. Five dark discs swam up out of the dim gray sheets. Wendy closed a fist around them. "Look, Mommy, the Tooth Fairy was here too!"

"Yes, she was." There was something odd in her mother's voice.

Santa crossed through the moonlight to her shelves and returned with Mister Piggy. "Better bank those dimes, young lady." She dropped them in carefully, hearing the clatter of metal against ceramic.

"Well then, Wendy," said Santa, sitting back down and giving her another astounding hug, "shall we be off?"

"I . . . I guess so."

"You guess so?"

"I'm worried about Mrs. Fredericks. Won't she miss us at Christmas dinner? And what about the potholders I made for her at school?" She pictured the floppy package under the tree, wrapped in pale yellow paper that showed kittens clawing balls of yarn.

"Tell you what," said Santa. "While the two of you pack your things, I'll put your gift under her tree and leave her a long letter explaining where you've gone and when to expect you back. Then you can bring her something extra special from the North Pole, how does that sound?"

It sounded fine and Wendy said so, though she still missed Mrs. Fredericks and was sure that Mrs. Fredericks would miss her and Mommy.

The rest of the night was a dream Wendy never wanted to wake from. She bundled into her warmest clothes while her mother packed a bag for her and Santa gathered up the presents. Then it was downstairs into the night-smell of pine needles and out the front door. She laid a wondering mitten on the huge gentle head of each reindeer as Santa introduced them. Then he lifted her into his shiny black sleigh. And when the nine great beasts pounded silently the cold night air, raising the sleigh effortlessly into the sky, Wendy giggled at the flutter in her stomach and held on tight. Cities passed beneath them in miniature and cirrus clouds wisped by, but Wendy felt not the least bit cold. Even when they sleighed into the far north and snowflakes danced upon her cheeks—the first snow she had ever seen—and, further still, the icy wind howled in her ears and thick frost formed on the team's bobbing antlers, even then, Wendy felt nothing but warmth and comfort as she sat beside Santa.

Across frozen tundra they flew. In the distance, poking out of endless ice and snow, Wendy saw tiny points of green which, as they drew nearer, shot up into tall trees that kissed the sky. The sleigh's runners brushed the tops of them, leaving a wake of powdered snow that swirled up into the air and drifted down onto the woods below. Ahead, Wendy saw a clearing with bright angular juttings of red and blue and green—buildings out of which now swarmed, like herds of caribou, tiny green figures who Wendy guessed had to be Santa's helpers. Clearer and clearer they became as the sleigh spiraled slowly downward. They were shouting something, but their voices were swallowed by the raucous jingle of sleighbells.

"That's my workshop, Wendy," said Santa, pointing with a child's pride. "And the blue building next to it? That's the reindeer stable." His voice went weird for a moment, then returned to normal: "And look, there's Mrs. Claus in front of our cottage. That's where you and your mommy will be staying."

Wendy clung to Santa's arm and nodded happily. On the porch of the bright green cottage stood a white-haired woman waving up at them. She had on a festive red dress frilled in green and yellow. It reminded Wendy of Shirley Temple's dress in
Heidi
.

The clamor of the elves mingled with the
tzing-tzing-tzing
of sleighbells as down they drifted, spiraling clockwise into a counterspiral of little men. Many of them pointed excitedly at her and Mommy. They waved up at her and she waved right back at them. She had a feeling she was going to like the North Pole a whole bunch.

*****

In the master bedroom, Santa marveled at how lovely Anya looked, despite her upset. "Would you mind telling me who these people are and why they're here?"

Anya's fingers lay rigid and cold against his palms. He was robed in red terrycloth, fresh from the shower. Through the walls came the sounds of Wendy and Rachel settling into their quarters: a closet door rumbling along its track, the muffled piping of Wendy's voice rising in question, Rachel's soothing alto answering her.

Santa led Anya to the bed, seated her there, sat beside her.

"First," he said, "you'll be relieved to know I've broken it off with the Tooth Fairy."

"No backsliding?" Her eyes were cool.

"Well, we slept together one last time," he admitted reluctantly, "but I put my foot down at last. She's out of my life for good."

Exasperation sharpened Anya's eyes. She looked away, then suddenly back, like the steel tips of a cat-o'-nine-tails stinging him across the face. Then her eyes grew soft and a smile glimmered on her lips. "It hardly matters," she said quietly. "I took my revenge while you were gone."

"What do you mean?"

"I slept with all of your elves. Many times over. All but Gregor. They've reverted since then for some reason. They don't remember a thing. But I did it and I'm glad I did it and now I just want things back the way they were. Now will you tell me who this McGinnis person is and why she's here?"

Santa had begun to laugh, but his laughter dissolved when he realized Anya was serious. She really
had
opened her loins to his elves. "Well, in the process of breaking up—" he faltered. "You couldn't have. Surely they would have stopped you."

"They didn't and I did. But that's ages ago and all my demons are exorcised," she said dismissively. "Now get off that subject. You can agonize over it later all you want, but right now you're going to tell me about this McGinnis woman."

Air seemed suddenly in short supply. Santa was sure his face had gone pale, even unto his rosy cheeks. "How dare you boss me around?" he muttered, knowing it was a mistake to let his anger show, but not caring.

"What was that?"

"I said how dare you boss me around? And how dare you take advantage of my elves that way?"

"Keep your voice down."

"I won't," he shouted. Then lower: "Yes I will, but for their sake, not yours." He sprang from the bed and paced before her. "All right, it was a mistake to carry on for so long with the Tooth Fairy without your knowing about it and it was a mistake to sleep with her tonight, though you've got to believe me I did try to resist her, I really did. I got to thinking about you out there and how much you mean to me and so I vowed to end it and by God I did end it. It was a relief to rid myself of her and it was . . . it was comforting to picture you waiting by the fire, rocking and knitting and glancing out the window at the elves cavorting on the commons."

"Tell me who she is."

"Instead I discover you stripped yourself naked and fucked the living daylights out of my co-workers. My God, Anya, what did you expect me to do? Nod sagely, give a sly wink, and say, That's nice, dear?" He caught sight of himself in the mirror over Anya's dressing table, pacing back and forth with his huge bear-like feet ankling out of his robe while his wife sat sad and defiant on the bed. "Oh Anya, my precious one, listen to me carry on. So much pain, so much anger. It feels wrong. But all of that we can let go of. We're husband and wife. We can renew our vows. I love you, after all, and that's all that matters. And you love me, don't you?"

"Tell me who she is, Claus."

He sat beside her once more, feeling frantic and elated and talking much too fast. "Yes, as I was about to say: When the Tooth Fairy stormed off—Lord, she was in a towering rage, you should have seen her!—I went upstairs to look in on Rachel. It was her house you see and she'd been an exceptionally well-behaved child in years gone by. But I guess I got sloppy with my magic time because her eyes opened and she caught me. And she was so . . . so fascinating that I let it continue and got to know her and—now I know you're going to be tempted to take this the wrong way, but please try not to—I fell in love with her. Not that I love you any less, because of course I don't. No, it's just a different kind of love. But anyway the upshot was, I asked her to come live with us at the North Pole and I really think you two will hit it off. We're going to give it a week's trial and then she'll decide whether to stay or not." He paused for breath, feeling like he'd been jabbering for hours. Anya sat next to him, head bent, hands picking at each other on her lap. "I mean it will be a group decision of course, whether she goes or stays. She and little Wendy and . . . and all of us will decide."

"She'll go." Anya spoke with a quiet finality, not looking up. "I'll make it clear to her she's not welcome and she'll go."

Wonderful, thought Santa. Now she's playing the long-suffering wife. "There, you see? You
are
taking it the wrong way," he said, his voice as winning as he could make it. "Look, I know this will take some getting used to, but give it a chance, won't you? At least promise me you'll be on your best behavior when Wendy unwraps her Christmas gifts and takes the grand tour."

She looked up at him, her eyes red and moist. But he guessed it was too hard for her, because she looked away, rested her hand on his shoulder, and stared into the back of it. "Claus, my big little boy," she sighed, "when are you going to grow up? It seems we were once creatures of questionable morality. That much I learned while you were away. But we're the Clauses now and this world depends on our being faithful to each other, on foregoing lust—however lovely the feeling—for the sake of love."

"Anya, it's true I felt lust and nothing but lust for the Tooth Fairy," said Santa. "But what I feel for Rachel is different. It's love I feel, a love as right and good as the love I hold in my heart for you, and the two loves can co-exist, I know they can, if you'll let them."

A tiny knock came at the door and then Wendy's voice called his name.

"Yes, Wendy?"

The handle turned. The little girl's head poked in, brown braids flying. "Hi. We're all unpacked and Mommy says I should ask you if it's time to open the presents yet."

"Give me five minutes to dress," he said. "You and your mother make yourselves at home by the Christmas tree. We'll be right along."

Wendy agreed excitedly and vanished.

Santa rose from the bed. He pulled a comfortable cambric shirt and a pair of pants from his closet and tossed them over a chair. Long red flannel underwear and two thick red woolen socks joined them out of his dresser drawer. He sighed audibly, unable to look at the silent figure of his wife on the bed. He hung his robe in the closet, pushing his shirts aside so it could dry properly.

Santa paused naked by the chair. One hand rested on the red shirt draped over the chairback. "Are you . . . are you all right?"

"Oh yes," she said slowly, not looking up. "Never better."

"Just try," Santa pleaded, feeling strange in his nakedness but standing there anyway, exposing himself to her, hoping the undeniability of his flesh would turn her around and sweep her along to his conclusion. "Try just a little. That's all I ask. Will you do that for me? Will you give it a try?"

IV. Trying Times

Even in civilized mankind faint traces of monogamous instinct can be perceived.

—Bertrand Russell

Here's to our wives and sweethearts—may they never meet.

—John Bunny

So heavy is the chain of wedlock that it needs two to carry it, and sometimes three.

—Alexandre Dumas

11. Modus Vivendi

Fritz had never been happier.

The exchange of gifts between Santa and Mrs. Claus on Christmas morning was traditionally a private affair. But now, on top of the arrival of Wendy and her mother—an event which spun Santa's helpers into a leaping tizzy of joy—Fritz had been one of a handful of elves singled out to join them on this special occasion.

The Christmas tree dominated the living room. It had to be the tallest, greenest, branchiest tree Fritz could recall, riotous with ornaments and icicles, colored lights and unending strings of popcorn.

On the floor to Fritz's right sat Gregor and his brothers, friends again, though the reason they had fallen out in the first place escaped him. Indeed all the elves were somewhat hazy about what had occurred during Anya's magic sway over them. What remained from that time were vague stabs of pleasure and guilt, a sudden waking on the commons, and delight at Mrs. Claus's newfound exuberance.

Upon the couch, somewhat obscured by branches and stepped towers of gift, sat Wilhelm and Siegmund and Karl, specialists in the subtleties of kiln and glaze and brushwork on plateware or piggybank. Their excitement at being in Santa's living room was palpable. Fritz felt it himself, a joy radiating from the pit of his stomach. He needed suddenly to hug somebody, so he latched onto fat Josef, Gregor's younger brother, and squeezed a tight
oomph!
out of him. Then a door clicked open down the hallway and a young girl's high excited whisper filled the air. At once, they shrank back tight and eager-eyed into their best behavior.

Wendy, puffed-sleeved and lovely in white, appeared in the archway. She gazed at them, her wide eyes unsure at first. Then she crinkled into a broad grin, reached back for her mother's hand, and pulled her into the room.