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Authors: Joyce Turiskylie

Just North of Whoville (23 page)

BOOK: Just North of Whoville
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But it’s the big holiday time. I’m going thru so much stuff right now.”

 


Dorrie, you’ll be fine. Okay, look…” she said as she got up and went to her desk and handed me a business card. “I didn’t think you would need this---but here’s the number of a friend of mine. Dr. Rankin. He’s offered to be on call for my…more advanced patients over the holidays. But seriously, this is for emergencies only.”

 

 

I left her office in a daze. I felt abandoned. As I walked across town under the glow of the Christmas lights, I felt like I’d lost my one true friend.

 

I was all alone. As I passed a Salvation Army Santa ringing his bell, I dropped some spare change into the bucket.

 


Merry Christmas,” he said, then went right back to ringing his bell.

 

He didn’t want to talk to me. He didn’t care about me. He just wanted my spare change. What kind of Salvation Army was that? Weren’t they supposed to be the Friends of the Friendless? I don’t think I’ll buy my next sofa from them.

 

 

Out of all my visits to Santa at Kendall’s Department Store, the last one, in my tenth year, stands out the most.

 

I was older, and more mature. I’d taken the past year to think things out carefully. This year, there would be a change in plans. Instead of my scroll-like list, I would make it easy on Santa. I would only ask for one thing.

 

A horse.

 

That morning, I begged my mother to let me wear my Girl Scout uniform. I thought the uniform might help my cause.

 


Honey, are you sure you need to see Santa this year?” my mother asked, almost concerned as we stood in the Santa line.

 


I have to! It’s really important!” I cried out with overdramatic angst.

 


Well…okay. You’re a big girl now---do you think you can see Santa by yourself?”

 


Sure,” I said with big girl independence.

 


Okay then. I have some shopping to do. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

 

As I waited patiently in the Santa line, I watched the little children clutch their lists for all they were worth. A few of the youngest ones cried; too young to understand that they were about to meet the man who could make their dreams come true. I looked at them with the wisdom that comes with age. I noticed that I was the tallest child there. They were too young to understand.

 

As we reached the entrance to the Santa throne, a kindly elf took me by the hand and told me to follow her along the Candy Cane Path. She asked my name and a few more questions while we waited. “Do you know what you want to ask Santa?” I nodded and smiled. I knew the procedure. Sure, some kids got nervous as they were about to meet Kris Kringle himself. But not I. I had done this many times. Santa and I were practically old friends. I was sure he’d been notating all the good deeds I’d done and how hard I’d worked over the past several years.

 

This was going to be my year. I could just feel it in my bones.

 


Santa, Dorrie is here to see you.”

 


Dorrie! Ho! Ho! Ho!” Santa motioned me forward with that jolly laugh of his.

 

I knew he would remember me.

 

After a few moments of chit-chat, we got down to business.

 


What do you want for Christmas, Dorrie?”

 


Santa,” I looked up into his sparkling blue eyes, “all I want is a horse. I want a horse so much. I’d take such good care of him and I’d feed him and brush him and ride him everyday. And I’ve been so good this year. I’ve been saving my allowance and I have ninety-two dollars and thirty-seven cents in my piggy bank. And I’m a Girl Scout now and I got three badges already. One of them is the animal badge. See,” I pointed to my Girl Scout sash. “And I sold eighty-three dollars worth of Christmas seals this year and I collected money for UNICEF and I started taking ice skating lessons. I’m really good. Here’s a picture of me ice skating. And I got straight A’s all year and I even got my first job. I work in the school cafeteria. I get free lunch everyday. My Mom lets me keep my lunch money. That’s how I saved up so much. So I’ll be able to take good care of my horse. Please, Santa. It’s all I want for Christmas.”

 

Santa rubbed his beard in thought. Then he looked down at me and smiled. “Well Dorrie, I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “You’ve certainly been a good girl this year.”

 

I certainly had.

 

After our little talk, we posed for a picture together. It never hurt to have a picture with Santa. Gave him something to remember you by. He gave me a candy cane and I waved good-bye to him as my mother stood waiting with her shopping bags. I’d done it. I was sure I had done everything a ten year-old girl could possibly do to get a horse. Now I just had to wait.

 

On Christmas morning, I woke up with the greatest feeling of joy as I ran down the hallway screaming “Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!” My parents woke up and opened their door. As soon as my father put on his slippers, I ran screaming down the stairs in my pajamas.

 

There was the tree, lit up with colored lights and sparkling with tinsel. Underneath the tree, piles of gifts were wrapped in pretty paper and stacked high all around, like pirate booty just waiting to be looted.

 


Oh, this one’s for you, Dorrie,” my mother exclaimed as she passed me a gift. “I wonder what that could be?” she said mysteriously. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her give a look to Dad; and saw him shake his head that he had no idea what it was, either. Well, how could they? It was from Santa. That meant that it could be anything!

 

And anything was probably the right word. Because as I pulled my gift out of the box, I had no idea what it was.

 


Well…” my mother said a bit uncomfortably. “Isn’t that nice. That’s a training bra, Dorrie,” she explained as my brother snickered.

 

Then I heard her whisper to Dad, “That wasn’t a Santa gift.”

 


Sorry,” he replied.

 

It wasn’t the sort of thing I usually got from Santa, but I just knew my horse was here somewhere. Of course, I’d always assumed he would be waiting for me beside the tree. But, he might be too big to fit thru the doorway.

 

There must be a note somewhere. Like the one he left for Cuddles. Maybe there would be some horse-related gifts. A saddle or riding clothes. Santa wouldn’t let me down. Not this year. I’d been so good.

 

I began opening the gifts. There was a board game, a pair of ice skates, and a new dress I could conveniently wear to Grandma’s for Christmas dinner. I was starting to lose hope when Dad pushed out a large box that was hidden behind the tree.

 


Look what I found,” he declared as he read the gift tag. “To: Dorrie. From: Santa.”

 

This was the saddle! I just knew it! With a note from Santa inside telling me where I could find my new horse. I ripped open the package and looked at the box.

 


You know what that is, Dorrie?” my mother explained. “That’s an electric typewriter! Look at that,” she said as she fondled the box. “You’ll need that for school.”

 

What happened? What did I do wrong? As my parents began cleaning up the gift wrap mess, which seemed to indicate that the gift opening session was over, I looked out the window for my horse.

 

But nothing.

 

While Mom was busy with breakfast, I ran out to the backyard in my pajamas, wondering if maybe Fury had strayed into a neighboring yard.

 


Fury? Fury!” I called out.

 

But there was no whinny. No response at all.

 

As a last, desperate effort, I decided to check the basement. After all, that’s where Cuddles had been.

 

But there was nothing out of the ordinary in the basement. Nothing that is, except a table covered in rolls of gift wrap, a roll of tape and a pair of scissors. The same gift wrapping Santa had used. On his busiest night of the year, he had time to wrap my gifts in the basement? Didn’t the elves take care of that?

 

I had a horrible thought.

 

I immediately ran upstairs and began rummaging thru the torn wrapping paper. There it was. The gift card. “To: Dorrie. From: Santa.”

 

I couldn’t believe my eyes. I ran quickly to my bedroom, shut the door, and began looking for the one piece of evidence I didn’t want to find.

 

And there it was.

 

My birthday card.

 


Happy 10
th
Birthday” it read on the outside.

 

And inside…

 


To Dorrie. Love, Daddy.”

 

In the exact same handwriting.

 

Oh my god. Jimmy Trumbo was right. There was no Santa Claus. Why did they deceive me like this? For all those years? All those lies. Those lies! Why did they make me believe? Why? None of the good things I’d done had mattered at all. I would never get a horse. Never ever ever.

 

I sat on my bed, hugged my stuffed horsey, and cried and cried.

 

By the time breakfast was ready, I staggered numbly to the kitchen.

 


Did you like what Santa brought you, sweetheart?” my father asked as he looked up from his paper.

 


Yeah. Thanks, Daddy,” I said and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “And thanks, Mommy,” I said and gave her a kiss, too.

 


You’re welcome, sweetie,” she replied with a bit of mist in her eyes.

 

 

It was time for me to grow up.

 

 

 

 

16

 

 

With two days left to open, we finally had our ending to the play.

 


Oh my god,” Steve said as he read the last three pages. “It’s a happy ending?”

 


Yeah. What the hell,” I replied.

 


Well, that’s the Christmas Spirit,” Steve replied sarcastically.

 


Don’t be a dick.”

 

Nate really had done wonders in a short period of time. A modern-day George Bailey and his shrink. Two strong characters challenging each other on the most stressful night of the year. Battling their demons, letting go of their fears, and by Christmas morning, rekindling the joy and wonder of all that life has to offer.

 

I still would have preferred an existentialist twist at the end---they’re both already dead. Da-da-dum!!!

 

But it was
It’s a Wonderful Life
. Not
Our Town
.

 

 

The next morning, I was awakened by a knock on the door.

 

Oh no.

 


Hey! It’s Alex!” I heard from the other side of the door. Oddly, Alex being the knocker in question was my best case scenario, so I opened the door. He stood there in what can only be described as a pair of Hugh Hefner pajamas.

 


Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to get my stuff. Did she send it over?”

 


Yeah. It’s here,” I said as I shuffled thru the apartment in my cotton granny nightgown and fuzzy slippers to retrieve the boxes.

 


Wow, Dorrie---ever heard of Victoria’s Secret?” he snarked on my sleepwear.

 


No, but I know about Alex’s Secret,” I was pretty quick for just rolling out of bed. “Here you go. Two boxes.”

 


Great. Oh---and good news. Celia’s taking me back.”

 


No. No!” I started to cry out. “She can’t. She just sent these boxes over. No, no, no…”

 


It’s all good. Don’t worry. You can stay here now.”

 


No I can’t! You’re little Russian beluga downstairs is threatening to rat me out if you break up with her. I’m going to lose this apartment and Nate is going to lose his job and Celia is going to be stuck with you for the rest of her life…”

 


Relax. You won’t lose the apartment. Celia wants me to prove myself or something before I can move back---so I’ll be staying at Tanya’s for a few weeks.”

 


You can’t prove yourself while you’re sleeping with Tanya.”

 


Well…” he honestly seemed dismayed by this dilemma. “What am I supposed to do?”

 


Can’t you get a hotel or something?”

 


Look…the financial sector is not what it used to be. They’re on our asses now and looking at everything. I might be unemployed in January. Or worse. But I’ll take care of things. And, by the way, I HAD an apartment. What do you think this was for?”

 


You know Alex,” I tried to reason with his particular brain, “have you ever thought that maybe Tanya is the one for you? She seems…nice.”

BOOK: Just North of Whoville
2.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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