St. Nick Read online

  The apartment complex was worn, but not dilapidated. They walked through an exterior security door that probably hadn’t worked in years and went in search of Apartment 125. There was just enough lighting to make out the numbers. At Apartment 125 there were no exterior lights on, nor was there a welcome mat, a Christmas wreath, or any holiday ornaments.

  Nick knocked on the door. The sound carried. It was a little after ten, but it seemed much later. The night sky had gotten even darker, the storm clouds blotting out the stars. Angie and Charlotte were both shivering.

  Nick knocked again.

  He heard some movements from inside, and then a woman’s suspicious voice: “Who’s there?”

  “Santa Claus,” said Nick.

  Laura’s mother had likely not had an easy life. It would be no wonder if she had little enough belief in the goodness of mankind, let alone any belief in Santa Claus.

  “Go away or I’ll call the cops.”

  I am a cop, Nick almost said, but at that moment he wasn’t. He was something much more.

  “Go ahead and call the police,” said Nick. “I’ll still be here, and I’ll still be Santa Claus.”

  “I’m not kidding. I’m calling the cops.”

  “And I’m not kidding either. I’m holding a bag full of gifts.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I told you, I’m Santa Claus.”

  The answer wasn’t mumbled. It was announced loudly, and proudly. It was unequivocal. It left no room for disbelief. No door could stay closed to that proclamation.

  “Santa Claus?” This time a girl spoke, and Nick knew that voice though he had never heard it before, knew it with an absolute certainty.

  “I’m here, Laura.”

  Chapter 36

  The Hallelujah Chorus

  December 25

  It was just past midnight when Nick arrived home. Christmas, he realized, Christmas.

  At Laura’s apartment he had felt like one of those movie heroes of old who arrive on the scene in the nick of time, and then at the end they ride off into the sunset, or in this case, into the night.

  She had loved Penny’s presents, but Nick told her he hadn’t forgotten about the other gifts she had asked for in her Christmas letter. He said that his sleigh had been just a little too full to bring them on this visit, but that she’d get everything in the next few days.

  Nick sat down in his easy chair. He took off his cap and beard, but was too tired to take off the rest of his Santa suit. Besides, it was such a cold night all the padding felt good.

  In another minute Nick would get up. His chair sure did feel comfortable, though. It had been such a long day, such a long season. But Laura’s smile had made it all worthwhile; the day, the past month, everything. She had danced around the room, danced for joy. And Nick had laughed the kind of great belly laughs that Santa is known for. There had been no need for him to act out his mirth. The laughter had just come flowing out of him.

  And while she had danced, Laura kept saying, “I knew you’d come, I knew you’d come, I knew you’d come.”

  Angie and Charlotte had talked to Laura’s mom, who told them she’d been downplaying the holidays, preparing Laura for a lean Christmas. Seeing her daughter so happy had made her cry for joy.

  Nick found himself nodding off. He knew he should get up and go to bed. Whenever he fell asleep in his easy chair his back always paid an awful toll the next day, but the chair felt so comfortable …

  Nick awoke with a start. The first thing he noticed was that he hadn’t closed the curtains. He looked at the clock. It was a little before seven. It was light outside, brighter than it should have been for a December morning. At that hour it still should have been dark, but there was a brightness reflecting from outside.

  Nick tried to focus. What he was seeing looked like a fuzzy TV picture. He squinted a little, not believing what he saw.

  It was snowing.

  No. Nick knew that was impossible. It didn’t snow in San Diego. He’d lived in Southern California for more than thirty years, and had never seen more than a few flakes fall. What he was seeing now was real snow. The sky was filled with flakes.

  Nick got out of his chair, and his back didn’t seem to be too much the worse for having spent the night there. He walked to his window and looked out to the courtyard. The snow blanketed the area, giving it a charm and grace never seen before. There was maybe an inch of snow on the ground, and Nick thought he had never seen anything quite so beautiful.

  He opened the door, stepped outside, and cupped his hands to catch the snowflakes. They didn’t even feel cold.

  Nick felt something rather than saw it. He looked up, sensing something, but it wasn’t there. Nick swiveled his head around. Not there, either. The area was deserted. But that didn’t explain the voice calling to him.

  Raymond’s voice.

  The boy was in the courtyard, just a few steps away from him. Nick didn’t understand how he had gotten there.

  “I’ve come to say good-bye,” he said.

  Raymond looked different. He wasn’t sick, and pale, and bony. This boy was strong, the Raymond that should have been. There was a glow to him, and a smile the likes of which Nick had never seen.

  “What do you mean?” asked Nick.

  “I told you I wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye. But it’s time now.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will. Thank you for the snow.”

  “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Oh yes you did.”

  “That was artificial snow. This is real, isn’t it?”

  Smiling, the boy nodded. “It sure is. Good-bye, Nick.”

  Raymond started walking towards a sleigh, a sleigh that hadn’t been there moments before, but then neither had Raymond.

  “I’m dreaming,” said Nick.

  It was Santa’s sleigh, complete with reindeer. And sitting in front was an all too familiar character. Santa Claus waved at him. Dream or not, Nick didn’t want to be rude. He waved back.

  Santa offered Raymond a hand up, but the boy didn’t need one. With a single bound, he jumped inside the sleigh. He was the healthiest of little boys. Nick noticed he was wearing his Sea Lions jersey. Raymond didn’t fill it out—his change hadn’t been that miraculous—but somehow it fit him better.

  Raymond turned his head to Nick, and smiled. There was so much joy and peace radiating from his smile that Nick wished he was wearing sunglasses, not only because they would have shielded him from the glare of the smile, but they would have hidden his tears as well.

  “Good-bye, Nick. Good-bye!”

  The sleigh lifted. Santa and Raymond never stopped waving until the sleigh disappeared high into the sky.

  With a start, Nick’s head came up.

  He was in his easy chair.

  It was only a dream.

  His cheeks were wet. He’d been crying in his sleep over some wishful dream. Nick took a deep breath. Everything had seemed so real. If only it was. He turned his head and looked out the window. The curtains were open, just as they had been in his dream. That, at least, was real. And there was something else.

  Outside it was snowing.

  This time Nick slapped himself. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t having a dream within a dream. His smarting face told him he wasn’t. What he was seeing was no dream. He rubbed his eyes, but the mirage didn’t disappear.

  It really was snowing.

  Nick got out of his chair. This time his back hurt. He walked to his front door and threw it open. The courtyard was as beautiful as he remembered it. In fact, it was just as he had dreamed, with the exception of Raymond and the sleigh.

  Without closing the door behind him, Nick ran back inside. Seeing was believing. With one eye he kept looking at the snow, and with the other, he dialed the hospital. He was connected with the pediatric oncology ward, and Easy came on the line.

  “Easy, this is Nick Pappas. It’s snowing! I mean you probably know it’s sn
owing, but I don’t know whether Raymond knows. He’s got to see it!”

  Easy’s voice didn’t sound right. “He saw it, Nick. He was the first to see it. He called for me, and together we watched the snow falling, and then he said I needed to wake up everyone else so that they could see. And so I went and did that …”

  “Tell him I’m coming down now. Tell him I’m going to make him a snowman. I’ll even bring a snowball up to him, and let him drop it on my head. I’m going …”

  “He’s gone, Nick.”

  His “oh” was part sigh, part acknowledgment, part moan.

  “I only left him for a minute, but while I was telling the other children about the snow he must have decided it was time to go.”

  Nick had known it, of course, but hadn’t wanted to believe it. Raymond had come to him and said good-bye. Nick had heard of the dead making a last call upon the living, of people getting a final message from the departed, but he had always assumed those stories were just a lot of wishful thinking. Now he knew differently. Raymond hadn’t left without saying his good-bye.

  It had been more than a dream, much more.

  “I came in just as he was leaving. He went out so gently, Nick. There was a smile on his face, and he looked so at peace, so harmonious. It almost looked like he was floating.”

  “He was, Easy, he was.”

  Nick hung up the phone. He wasn’t sure what he felt. Everything was all jumbled inside. He wanted to laugh and cry all at once.

  It was still snowing. Nick walked out to the courtyard, and let the flakes fall down on him. He reached up and caught one, and then another, and then another.

  He moved his hands and feet, and kept snatching the snowflakes out of the air. His body spoke for him, telling of his joy, and pain. Nick was laughing and crying at the same time, and all the while he kept reaching up faster and faster, and higher and higher.

  And then Nick realized he wasn’t reaching for snowflakes so much as he was dancing, but he didn’t stop. He just kept on dancing.

  About the Author

  Alan Russell is the bestselling author of ten novels, including Burning Man, Shame, Multiple Wounds, The Hotel Detective, and Political Suicide. His books have been nominated for most of the major awards in crime fiction, and he has won a Lefty award for best comedic mystery, a USA Today Critics’ Choice Award, two San Diego Book Awards for best mystery novel, and the Odin Award for Lifetime Achievement from the San Diego Writers/Editor Guild. He lives with his wife and children in Encinitas, California.

  This book was originally released in Episodes as a Kindle Serial. Kindle Serials launched in 2012 as a new way to experience serialized books. Kindle Serials allow readers to enjoy the story as the author creates it, purchasing once and receiving all existing Episodes immediately, followed by future Episodes as they are published. To find out more about Kindle Serials and to see the current selection of Serials titles, visit www.amazon.com/kindleserials.