A Christmas Feast

It’s the week before Christmas, and people rush to do their last-minute shopping. The plaza’s décor is bright with festive colors.  The parking lot lamps are decorated to look like giant jingle bells and candy canes.  Christmas carols blare from the speakers mingling with the constant chatter of the shoppers.  Eight-year-old Cody misses Massachusetts at Christmas.  There it would be snowing, and you would have to wear a heavy winter coat and snow boots.  The temperature would be slightly above freezing, causing your nose to run and your eyes to water.  He can’t get used to the seventy-degree weather of Tucson and people Christmas shopping wearing shorts.  Tucson certainly isn’t Massachusetts by any means.  His father moved here for work.  He is in the construction business, building houses, and in nineteen sixty-six, it is booming.  His father told Cody he’d get used to it, to give it some time.  Cody supposes he’s right, but he still misses snow.  Tucson sometimes gets snow, but it’s way up on the mountains.  It can look pretty.  One other nice thing about Tucson is the night sky.  You can see so many stars!  Why just the other night, Cody saw at least twenty or thirty shooting stars falling toward earth over the desert. It was amazing.

Today Cody’s dad has brought him to Woolworths on Congress Street to meet Santa.  In the Sunday paper, he showed Cody the announcement,” Bring your camera and take your child’s picture with Santa!” Sure enough, Dad had his Polaroid Swinger all loaded and ready to go.  Cody thinks his dad is acting more excited than he is to meet Santa.  So is Dad going to sit on Santa’s lap too?  Cody chuckles when he pictures his big strong father sitting on poor old Santa’s lap.

“What’s so funny!” his dad asked, amused.

“Nuttin’,” Cody replied.

Venturing further, Dad asks, “So, what are you going to ask Santa for?  Can you tell me?  I’d like to know.  Is it a new bike?  The streets in our subdivision are nice and flat.  They’ll be perfect for learning how to ride a bike.  Or, seeing that we are out West, perhaps you would like a cowboy outfit.  You can have a six-shooter cap, gun, and sheriff’s badge.  What ya say?”

To tell the truth, Cody doesn’t know what he wants.  He’s feeling a little blue about going back home.  But maybe he’ll tell Santa that his Christmas wish is to go home to Massachusetts to be with Grammy and Grampy on Christmas Eve.  Cody misses them so much and misses their little dog, Buster, the beagle.

Cody mumbled, “Maybe.”

On their way to Woolworths, Cody notices a lot of “Santas” around, out in front of stores telling people to come inside.  Or standing on street corners ringing bells by red buckets saying, “Merry Christmas!” On top of that, they all look the same for the most part.  So when Cody asks why there are so many Santas, his father gives him the pat answer that all dads do.  “Well, ya see, Cody, they aren’t all Santa but Santa’s helpers.  They’re pretending to be him because not all children write letters telling Santa what they want for Christmas.  You didn’t write one, that’s why we’re going to see him.  This way, they’ll find out what the kids want and tell the “real” Santa in time for Christmas Eve.  See?“ Cody isn’t sure his father’s explanation makes a lot of sense, but he keeps his mouth shut.

At long last, they enter the store. It’s jammed pack with shoppers pushing loaded carts down crowded aisles.  People are jostling one another or reaching over carriages to get to an item on the shelf before someone else can.  The people and the noise are almost overwhelming as Cody’s father drags him by the hand through the chaos.  He catches bits of arguments and conversations along the way, like, “I saw it first!  But I got my hand on it first!” Or the conversation between a husband and his wife.  Her: “Oh, Ralph, this is just what Bambi wanted, but the box is crushed! Him: It’s just a little dent.  Maybe she won’t notice. Her: Ralph!  It’s a Christmas present, for crying out loud!  I don’t want her to think we’ve shopped at the Salvation Army store!  Him: Say, that’s not such a bad…Her: RALPH!!” And so on throughout the store.

The “Meet Santa” location is all the way in the back of the store in the toy department.  There is a long line of kids waiting to see Santa; most are with their dads while the moms continue shopping.  Santa sits in an oversized velvet chair with enormous cardboard candy canes on each side.  There is also a Christmas tree with presents and an elf to help handle the kids.  Everyone is so excited that they jump up and down and bump into one another while shouting and squealing in loud voices.

On top of that, they’re right next to the pet center, where all the parakeets are squawking.  Then, some kid opened one of the cages, and now two birds were flying around everybody’s heads.  Cody thinks it is probably the same kid who does it every year.

It has progressed to the point that they are now third in line.  Cody can see how the procedure works.  The elf calls you over to sit on Santa’s lap.  If you’re bigger like Cody, you get to lean against his leg and tell him what you want for Christmas.  The elf then shows the parent where to stand to take the picture.  The whole thing seems to take about five minutes.  Cody still doesn’t know what he wants, so he figures he’ll go with the bike.

Before he knows it, Dad is nudging his shoulder and exclaiming excitedly, “It’s your turn, Cody!  Go ahead, son!” Cody reluctantly steps forward.  As he leans against Santa’s leg, he barely hears the familiar “HO- HO- HO” over all the noise.  Then, as he stares at the floor, Santa says,” Tell me, Cody, what is it you actually want for Christmas? Tell me the one wish from your heart to make you extremely happy.” Cody stops breathing as his eyes grow large and his jaw drops open. “That’s right.  I know who you are,” says Santa.  “You’re Cody Leverett from One Hummingbird Lane.  Am I correct?” Cody slowly nods his head.

“I also know your wish is not for a bike but something bigger. So much bigger, fantastic, that you think it’s impossible for me to grant it.  So go ahead, give it a try, Cody,” Santa says with a wink.

Cody has become acutely aware of how quiet it has become.  He looks out into the store and sees everyone standing entirely still.  It’s like they’re all frozen in place!  He sees his dad standing before him, about to raise his polaroid, smiling silly with a parakeet over his head.  There is bird poop stopped in mid-air, about to hit him on his head!  Cody thinks, “What the heck?” Then, as if reading his mind, Santa informs him that this is a little “Santa magic.”

“I can manipulate time.  To everyone else, you are sitting here talking with me like normal.  But I’ve slowed time down to a near stop so you and I can have this conversation.  So, I’ll ask you again, what is it you most desire this Christmas?” Cody’s chin puckers and his bottom lip starts to quiver.  He whispers at first but then shouts, “I want to go home!  I want to be with Grammy and Grampy in Massachusetts!  I don’t like it here!”

Wiping a tear away with a gloved finger, Santa asks, “Do you miss your grandparents, Cody?  What things do they do on Christmas Eve that make it so unique?

Cody starts, “Well, for one thing, we’d bake cookies all afternoon and put them in little tins as gifts for friends and neighbors.  Then, I’d make two special big cookies for you!”

“OH, yes,” replies Santa.  “I recall the taste of your little hands and fingers kneading all that love into each one.  Delicious.  Please continue.”

Cody does, “We also decorate the tree and hang our stocking on the mantel of the fireplace.  Even Buster, the beagle, has a stocking!  In the morning, it will be full of dog toys and Milkbones. The next day is extra special as it’s Christmas.  On the end tables and coffee table, all around the living rooms, are bowls with ribbon candy, nuts with a nutcracker, and homemade chocolates.  And for dinner, we have what Grampy calls the “Christmas Feast.” There’s a roast goose with whipped potatoes and butter, homemade honey rolls, and all kinds of vegetables and stuff.  For dessert, we have pumpkin and blueberry pies, plum pudding with hard sauce, but best of all, my favorite, minced meat pie!”

“WOW!” exclaims Santa.  “No wonder you want to go back home!  I’ll tell you what I can do, but you must keep it a secret between you and me.  After your parents sleep, I was hoping you could come out to the front yard, and I’ll take you back to Massachusetts in my sleigh.  How would you like that, Cody?”

“That will be great!” exclaims Cody, “But what if my parents wake up and hear me?  How will I get back home again?”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Santa says reassuringly.  “I’ll use some more of my Santa magic, and they’ll never even know you were gone. It looks like your father is about to take our picture, so until tonight, say Cheese!” Cody turns to see his father’s camera is almost to his eye, and the bird poop will miss him. Cody smiles the biggest smile he has ever smiled as the flash goes off.

…

 Cody’s parents watch him climb into bed, instructing him to go to sleep or else Santa won’t come.  “OK!” Cody chirps and smiles because he already knows that Santa is coming.  He has a set of new clothes folded on the chair in the corner, and as soon as his parents kiss him good night and close the door, he jumps out of bed and rushes to put them on.  Cody opens the door a crack so he can listen to them downstairs.  He can hear them hurrying around and paper crinkling, the screech of scotch tape as it is being pulled and torn off.  This goes on for a while when Cody thinks he hears his dad say something like, “Why does it have to be milk?  I hate milk!  Why can’t it be a beer instead?” Cody’s mom scolds, “George!  Just drink it, and let’s go to bed.” When he hears the third step creak, he rushes back to bed and pulls up the covers.  He listens as water is turned on and teeth are brushed—the bed squeaks as they climb in and kiss each other good night.

Cody soon hears his father start to snore loudly and his mother a little more softly and knows it’s safe.  He hops out of bed, rushes to the bedroom window, and kneels to wait.  Cody looks at the street below and can make out the Christmas decorations, the desert plants, palm trees, and cacti with Santa hats on them.  Cody thinks this is the strangest Christmas he has ever seen.  Cody grows tired and eventually dozes off. 

He is awakened by flashing lights and a soft, whirring sound.  As Cody straightens up, rubbing his eyes, he sees that the flashing lights are the neighbor’s Christmas lights, and the sound is the sound of sleighbells ringing.  Cody thinks, “Wait a minute!  Sleighbells mean Santa’s here!” He hurriedly slips out the bedroom door and scoots down the stairs, making sure to step over the third step from the bottom.  At the front door, Cody gingerly turns the deadbolt, trying not to make any noise.  When he steps outside, he can see a red sleigh with tiny reindeer hitched to it.  Santa’s sitting in the center, holding the reins in one hand and waving with the other for Cody to come quickly and get in.  After Cody has jumps in, Santa snaps his reins, and the reindeer take off!  As they climb higher and higher, Santa turns to Cody and asks, “Well, what do you think?  Cody?  Isn’t this great fun!” Cody only stares straight ahead, his face locked in sheer excitement.

Santa informs Cody that it gets chilly this high up and that he should lean back and cover himself with an empty velvet toy sack.  When he does, Santa smiles and begins to talk to Cody.

“You know Cody, when you told me about your grandmother’s Christmas feast, I forgot that the elves and I have one too.  As you know, we travel worldwide, and after delivering the last present, we like to take back our favorite dish from that country!  I like American cuisine, but some like French, Chinese, and even Mexican.  We bring it home to a big hall where we have a gigantic buffet, and everyone shares what they’ve brought back. We eat until we’re so full it feels like we might burst! It is so good!” Santa laughs, “HO-HO-HO!” Looking at Cody, Santa declares that Cody should try and get some sleep.  He doesn’t want to be too tired to enjoy his Christmas wish.  Cody must admit that he is kind of sleepy and closes his eyes.

…

Cody slowly begins to come to. He has difficulty opening his eyes, and his head feels groggy.  He can’t tell where he is when he does get them open. The room is entirely white, and Cody can’t see the difference between the ceiling and the walls. The light seems to emanate from the walls themselves, as there aren’t any fixtures to be seen.  Cody is lying flat on his back with a white sheet covering him.  Hearing a sound to his right, he turns to see Santa with his back to him, working on something.  Cody‘s throat is dry, and it hurts when he tries to speak.  “Santa! Where are we!”

”Oh, Cody, you’re awake!  So delightful.  But I’m afraid I have to apologize to you. You see, I lied.  We’re not in Massachusetts at all.  Remember how I told you we also have a feast?  Well, guess what?  You‘re IT!  Ever since I first tasted your flavor mixed into those cookies you made, I just knew I‘d have to have you.”

As Santa turns and starts to approach, Cody gives a high pitch shriek of terror!  The white beard is gone, and so is the jolly old Santa face!  Instead, a hideous alien, insect type is in his place, with its mandibles sawing back and forth!  Cody tries to run and get free, but as he struggles, the sheet falls away, and he can see he is being held in place with metal restraints.  The alien Santa senses that Cody is having trouble comprehending what is happening, so it explains.  It isn’t speaking audibly but transmitting its thought directly into Cody’s brain.

“Yes, Cody, you’re going to be my part of the Christmas Feast. I’ll use this little laser device to cut off or out the pieces I wish to eat first.  Then, the laser will cauterize the wound, thus keeping you alive and fresh until the next time!  So tonight, I’ll have a nice rump roast thanks to you, Cody.” Cody’s eyes roll back into his head, and all goes black.

As the twenty to thirty spacecraft hurl through the vast expanse of space, heading for a far-off distant galaxy, their version of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” echoes through the cosmos.  “You better watch out-You, you better not cry-You better not pout- I’m telling you why Santa Claus is coming to town.  He’s making a list, checking it twice, and wanting to find out who’s yummy with spice!- Santa Claus is coming to town.  He sees you when you’re basting- Inside the roasting pan- He wants to see you smothered- In onions if he can!-Juicy thick steaks-And sausages too- That’s what he will make out of you-When Santa Claus is coming-Yes Santa Claus is coming- Old Santa Claus is coming to Town!  HO-HO-HO!” 

                                                    The End