Michael watches eagerly as Santa opens the fireplace doors and retreats into the fireplace itself. Suddenly, Kris Kringle vanishes, as if he were never there. Michael’s jaw drops. He follows where Santa just was, placing his bare feet in the same position as the jolly man’s jingle-belled boots. Bracing himself, Michael squeezes his eyes shut.
Whoosh. Michael opens his eyes to find himself on the roof, next to the chimney. His jaw drops once more, and he turns all around to take in the view. Although the snow-covered suburban lawns are nothing new, the enormous red sleigh and eight reindeer are a bit of a shock. Michael watches in awe as Santa loads his enormous toy bag into the back of the sleigh. The bag remains tightly shut, but Michael can imagine the ribbon,wrapping paper, and joy about to burst forth from within. And then there’s the reindeer! They are gorgeous specimens with luscious brown fur and sturdy off-white antlers that gleam in the moonlight. Santa moves toward the reindeer closest to the sleigh, Blitzen, and slyly feeds him a carrot.
“Don’t tell your siblings.” Santa whispers, chuckling and turning back to face Michael. He sighs as he locks eyes with the little boy.
“Are you ready to hop in the sleigh Michael?”
Michael nods furiously, then slides into the left-hand side of the glossy red bench. The hundreds of buttons, knobs, and dials before him fill his head with questions. His head buzzing, Michael begins to list them off, pointing and gesturing as he asks.
“What does this dial do? And this button? What about this one? And why is the steering wheel on the right side? Are you British? How many buttons are there? Why isn’t Rudolph here? Does he only come when it’s foggy? What if it’s foggy in one part of the world and clear in another part? Also, last question: why are you so sad?”
Santa pauses, thoroughly surprised by the young boy’s observant questions. “What do you mean Michael?” he asks.
“Well,” Michael begins. “You used to have a little glimmer in your eye, but ever since I untied you it’s been gone. Not to mention your smile looks more sad than happy.” Michael frowns and looks down at his hands. “You’re supposed to be jolly, but I think I made you sad.”
Santa sighs again, sliding into the sleigh next to Michael. “You’re right, Michael. I’m usually very jolly. I guess I just feel bad for all the children who will wake up and be disappointed tomorrow morning.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you and I fly back to the North Pole right now, there won’t be enough time for me to finish delivering presents. A lot of kids in the west won’t be getting anything.”
Santa’s heavy words make Michael’s heart sink. Although he’s sure she isn’t loud enough to yell at him from the pantry, Michael can still hear Diana’s voice…
“Let him go, Michael. It’s the right thing to do.”
Michael frowns slightly, thinking hard, then looks up into Santa’s big brown eyes.
“All right, young man. Are you ready to go?”