The Speed of Heart

The house shook from the pounding on the door. Shuffling into the foyer, Gerald pulled his robe around him. He cinched the belt and groaned at the noise. His slippers clapped against the pavers. Seeing himself as he passed a mirror, he smoothed his hair back. It didn’t help much.

It’s late. Who goes visiting at dark-thirty?

The security camera showed a man dressed as Santa Claus, hugging himself against the cold.

Is this a joke?

Gerald’s young son, Benny, watched through the banister halfway up the stairs. He whispered to himself, “It’s Santa…!”

Gerald called through the door. “What do you want?”

The man outside said, “Merry Christmas! I’m freezing out here…”

“I don’t know you! Go away!” I could tell him to use the chimney, but I don’t want him here.

Benny ran into the foyer. “Daddy! It’s Santa! Let him in…”

“Go to bed, Benny. It’s not Santa… Go! I won’t tell you again.”

“But it is! Look, Dad… Don’t you see?”

The pounding resumed. Gerald gestured toward Benny’s room. He flipped the wall switch. The porch light went out.

The figure on the screen, a silhouette lit by a distant street light, made a pleading gesture to the camera.

Gerald yelled. “Not buying. Go away! It’s late!”

Benny’s mom, Guinevere, stood behind the boy. She draped a knit coverlet over his shoulders and smoothed his hair. “It’s Christmas, Jer. Maybe he’s lost…”

Benny leaned into his mother. “Yeah, Dad. What if Santa’s lost?”

Gerald looked askance at his wife and child. “Number one, Gwen, he’s not Santa. Anyone can rent a costume. Number two, he has no business here. We don’t celebrate Christmas. And it’s past your bed time, Benny. Number three… if there were a Santa, which there isn’t, he wouldn’t get lost… Number…”

The pounding started again, more insistent than before. Furious, Gerald wheeled about. He grabbed a golf club from the umbrella rack and threw the door open.

“What! We’re trying to sleep! Don’t you know the time? Go away!”

The Santa stood before them. His eyes sparkled. His face glowed in the hallway light. Heavy snow fell silently behind him. He looked like a Coke commercial.

Grinning, he spread his arms. “Merry Christmas! Ho! Ho! Ho…!”

Benny responded. “Merry Christmas, Santa!”

The Santa picked up the bulging sack he’d been carrying. “Hi… Sorry I’m late. Is this 5757?”

“No, it’s not…” Gerald began to shut the door.

“Wait! My car… uhm, sleigh broke down back there. I couldn’t make out the addresses… the storm…” He clutched at himself. “It’s really coming down… Called Triple-A… It’ll take at least an hour…”

Pulling Benny close, Guinevere said, “He’s freezing, Jer. Let him in. Shut the door. Please!”

“You crazy? Let a stranger into the house? I don’t care if he’s dressed like Elvis…”

Benny said, “It’s Santa, Dad…!”

Gerald gave in. Deflated, he stepped back and waved the man in. Benny hopped up and down with excitement.

“I’m Gerald… Can I take your coat and… sack?”

The stranger said, “Maybe when I warm up a little. I’m Sam…” He looked at Benny. “You can call me Santa.”

Gerald pointed to his family. “My wife, Guinevere… and that’s Benny.”

Guinevere nodded. “I’ll make some tea.” She paused and looked at the stranger. “Or hot chocolate?”

The Santa danced a little to generate some warmth. “Yes! Great! Anything hot!”

Pulling at Benny’s blanket, Guinevere turned toward the kitchen. Holding his gaze at the man in the Santa suit, Benny shrugged her off.

The man said, “Sorry I’m so late…”

Looking around, he saw not one decoration suggesting holiday cheer.

Gerald glanced at the grandfather clock. “It’s midnight…”

Benny yelled, “Merry Christmas!”

Gerald sighed. He led them into the living room. “I’ll light a fire. Warm things up a bit. Don’t have to worry about you stopping up the chimney, right?”

The Santa laughed. “What some people won’t do to keep me out…”

Gerald reached passed the antique andirons with the lighter. Gas fed flames burst to life.

“Gas is easier, but lacks the charm.”

Setting his sack down, the Santa settled onto the hearth and rubbed his hands together. “Ooh, yes… that feels good.”

Eyeing the bulging sack, Benny sat on the couch. This is great! Wait ‘til I tell everyone!

Gerald took the rocking chair and leaned the putter against his knee. He kept one eye on the stranger. The other watched the clock.

The room warmed and the Santa pulled out his phone. “I should try to reach my boss. Better late than never, eh?”

He dialed and leaned in when the connection went through. “Phillip…! Your Santa here. Yes. Sorry about the time. Got lost in the storm and then broke down… How do I get to your…? Oh…? I’m sorry to hear that… Oh, well, that’s a relief… What about…? Oh…? Thanks! Yes. Most generous… You sure…? Okay... Oh, great. Makes for a very merry Christmas... Of course… And to you and yours. Thanks again. Talk next week…”

The stranger disconnected and pocketed his phone. He looked at Gerald. “The party I was looking for got cancelled… The storm, I guess. But he’s paying me for my time… Everyone’s fine…”

Gerald said, “Who’s everyone? Where was the party?”

“Phillip Smith’s house. The CEO of Transportion Ltd.”

“I play golf with Phil. Wonder why weren’t we invited?”

Guinevere entered with a tray of hot drinks. “Maybe he knows you hate Christmas, Jer… Here’s some holiday cheer! Drink up.”

She set the tray down and handed the stranger a steaming cup of hot chocolate. He held the cup with both hands. Gerald and Benny each took one.

Guinevere said, “Don’t burn yourselves… May still be hot… More marshmallows, if you want… Have a cookie…”

She sat on the couch next to Benny.

The Santa raised his cup in toast. “I wish you all a very blessed holiday. And thank you for bringing me into your beautiful home. Don’t think I would have lasted out there.”

All responded with cheerful chatter and drank.

The Santa set his cup down and wiped his mouth on a napkin. “So… If you’re in the mood, I have a little surprise...”

Benny had been eyeing the sack Santa carried in. He jumped up. “Presents!”

Guinevere pulled him back onto the couch. “Sit still… Don’t be rude.”

The Santa laughed. “That’s alright… It is Christmas, after all…” He looked at his hosts. “I do have some presents. I hope you’ll like them.”

Benny cheered.

The Santa reached into the sack. Pulling wrapped packages out, he gave one to each of them.

Gerald looked at Guinevere with a raised eyebrow. “But…”

She said, “Roll with it, Jer. It’s a gift…”

He nodded and opened his present to reveal a designer, dress watch. “Wow!” He put it on his wrist and held it up to the light. “Twelve-eighteen… sharp…” Unsure what to think, Gerald stared at the stranger.

The Santa said, “You like?”

“Yes! I can’t believe it. I never expected…”

The stranger smiled and nodded.

Guinevere gasped when she opened hers. She held the diamond pendant mounted in a silver heart up to her throat. Gerald and Benny applauded. She dabbed her eyes with her napkin.

Reaching for Santa’s hand, she said, “It’s beautiful! Thank you, so much…”

Benny opened his box to find a toy army tank and a collection of plastic soldiers. “Oh, boy! Just what I wanted! Thanks, Santa!” He slipped to the floor and began growling engine revs while maneuvering the tank across the rug.

Guinevere said, “How did you…?”

“Don’t worry. They were for the party... which got cancelled. My boss told me to pay them forward…”

Gerald smiled, “Phil… Solid…”

“Oh no!” Benny looked panicked.

His mother touched his head. “What’s wrong, Ben?”

“It’s late! Shouldn’t Santa be delivering other presents?”

The adults looked at each other and laughed.

The Santa knelt and looked at Benny. “Good question… I have a secret. I don’t travel by the clock, but by the speed of heart.”

Benny insisted. “But what about your reindeer? Aren’t they cold and hungry?”

The Santa’s phone rang. He pulled it out and answered. “Yes…? Great!” He hung up. Triple-A. I’m sorry to rush, but I’ve gotta go. Thank you so much!”

He took one last gulp from his cup, shook Gerald’s hand and waved as he ran to the door.

“See you next year.” He winked.

Gerald let him out. They all waved as he waded through the snow into the darkness. The limp sack dangled from his hand.

Gerald sighed, “Wow! That turned out different than I dared hope.”

Benny said, “He’s kind of skinny. Do you think he’s real?”

Guinevere patted Benny’s head. “He brought us wonderful gifts. He might just be…”

Securing the door, Gerald said, “You’re too old to believe in Santa Claus, Ben.”

He flinched from Guinevere’s playful punch.

She said, “But you’re not? Nice watch you got.”

“It is a nice watch. Point taken. We’ll have to do this again… perhaps in a year…” They embraced. “By the way, have you seen Phil’s wife lately?”

“Margery? Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He sniffed. “There’s a whiff of conspiracy in the air… You and Marge and a team of Santa’s elves…?” He raised his brow.

Chuckling, Guinevere also sniffed and shrugged. “I do smell something… I think someone’s blowing smoke. Dowse the fire and let’s go to bed.”