A Yuletide Universe

by Brian M. Thomsen (ed)

  “What’s next?” Fred asked, tying the bow on the last of the staplers. He stood up and stretched.

  “Cough drops,” Lauren said, cutting a length of red paper with Santa Clauses on it.

  He sat back down. “Ah, yes. Accounts Receivable’s heart’s desire.”

  “What’s your heart’s desire?” Lauren asked, folding the paper over the top of the cough drops and taping it. “What would you ask for if the spirit inflicted himself on you?”

  Fred unreeled a length of ribbon. “Well, not to go to an office party, that’s for sure. The only year I even had a remotely good time was last year, talking to you.”

  “I’m serious,” Lauren said. She taped the sides and handed the package to Fred. “What do you really want for Christmas?”

  “When I was eight, I asked for a computer for Christmas. Home computers were new then and they were pretty expensive, and I wasn’t sure I’d get it. I was a lot like Natalie Wood in Miracle on 34th Street. I didn’t believe in Santa Claus, and I didn’t believe in miracles, but I really wanted it.”

  He cut off the length of ribbon, wrapped it around the package, and tied it in a knot.

  “Did you get the computer?”

  “No,” he said, cutting off shorter lengths of ribbon. “Christmas morning I came downstairs, and there was a note telling me to look in the garage.” He opened the scissors and pulled the ribbon across the blade, making it curl. “It was a puppy. The thing was, a computer was too expensive, but there was an outside chance I’d get it, or I wouldn’t have asked for it. Kids don’t ask for stuff they know is impossible.”

  “And you hadn’t asked for a puppy because you knew you couldn’t have one?”

  “No, you don’t understand. There are things you don’t ask for because you know you can’t have them, and then there are things so far outside the realm of possibility, it would never even occur to you to want them.” He made the curled ribbon into a bow and fastened it to the package.

  “So what you’re saying is your heart’s desire is something so far outside the realm of possibility you don’t even know what it is?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he said. He stood up again. “Do you want some eggnog?”

  “Yes, thanks. If it’s still there.”

  He went in the kitchen. She could hear forest-thrashing noises and the refrigerator opening. “It’s still here,” he said.

  “It’s funny Chris hasn’t been back,” she called to Fred. “I keep worrying he must be up to something.”

  “Chris?” Fred said. He came back into the living room with two glasses of eggnog.

  “The spirit. He told me to call him that,” she said. “It’s short for Spirit of Christmas Present.” Fred was frowning. “What’s wrong?” Lauren asked.

  “I wonder . . . nothing. Never mind.” He went over to the TV. “I don’t suppose Miracle on 34th Street’s on TV this afternoon?”

  “No, but I made him change your video back.” She pointed. “It’s there, on top of the TV.”

  He turned on the TV, inserted the video, and hit play. He came and sat down beside Lauren. She handed him the wrapped box of cough drops, but he didn’t take it. He was watching the TV. Lauren looked up. On the screen, Jimmy Stewart was walking past Donna Reed’s house, racketing a stick along the picket fence.

  “That isn’t Miracle,” Lauren said. “He told me he changed it back.” She snatched up the box. It still showed Edmund Gwenn hugging Natalie Wood. “That little sneak! He only changed the box!”

  She glared at the TV. On the screen Jimmy Stewart was glaring at Donna Reed.

  “It’s all right,” Fred said, taking the package and reaching for the ribbon. “It’s not a bad movie. The ending’s too sentimental, and it doesn’t really make sense. I mean, one minute everything’s hopeless, and Jimmy Stewart’s ready to kill himself, and then the angel convinces him he had a wonderful life, and suddenly everything’s okay.” He looked around the table, patting the spread-out wrapping paper. “But it has its moments. Have you seen the scissors?”

  Lauren handed him one of the pairs they’d bought. “We’ll wrap them last.”

  On the TV Jimmy was sitting in Donna Reed’s living room, looking awkward. “What I have trouble with is Jimmy Stewart’s being so self-sacrificing,” she said, cutting a length of red paper with Santa Clauses on it. “I mean, he gives up college so his brother can go, and then when his brother has a chance at a good job, he gives up college again. He even gives up committing suicide to save Clarence. There’s such a thing as being too self-sacrificing, you know.”

  “Maybe he gives up things because he thinks he doesn’t deserve them.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “He’s never gone to college, he’s poor, he’s deaf in one ear. Sometimes when people are handicapped or overweight they just assume they can’t have the things other people have.”

  The telephone rang. Lauren reached for it and then realized it was on TV.

  “Oh, hello, Sam,” Donna Reed said, looking at Jimmy Stewart.

  “Can you help me with this ribbon?” Fred said.

  “Sure,” Lauren said. She scooted closer to him and put her finger on the crossed ribbon to hold it taut.

  Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed were standing very close together, listening to the telephone. The voice on the phone was saying something about soybeans.

  Fred still hadn’t tied the knot. Lauren glanced at him. He was looking at the TV, too.

  Jimmy Stewart was looking at Donna Reed, his face nearly touching her hair. Donna Reed looked at him and then away. The voice from the phone was saying something about the chance of a lifetime, but it was obvious neither of them was hearing a word. Donna Reed looked up at him. His lips almost touched her forehead. They didn’t seem to be breathing.

  Lauren realized she wasn’t either. She looked at Fred. He was holding the two ends of ribbon, one in each hand, and looking down at her.

  “The knot,” she said. “You haven’t tied it.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Sorry.”

  Jimmy Stewart dropped the phone with a clatter and grabbed Donna Reed by both arms. He began shaking her, yelling at her, and then suddenly she was wrapped in his arms, and he was smothering her with kisses.

  “The knot,” Fred said. “You have to pull your finger out.”

  She looked blankly at him and then down at the package. He had tied the knot over her finger, which was still pressing against the wrapping paper.

  “Oh. Sorry,” she said, and pulled her finger free. “You were right. It does have its moments.”

  He yanked the knot tight. “Yeah,” he said. He reached for the spool of ribbon and began chopping off lengths for the bow. On the screen Donna Reed and Jimmy Stewart were being pelted with rice.

  “No. You were right,” he said. “He is too self-sacrificing.” He waved the scissors at the screen. “In a minute he’s going to give up his honeymoon to save the building and loan. It’s a wonder he ever asked Donna Reed to marry him. It’s a wonder he didn’t try to fix her up with that guy on the phone.”

  The phone rang. Lauren looked at the screen, thinking it must be in the movie, but Jimmy Stewart was kissing Donna Reed in a taxicab.

  “It’s the phone,” Fred said.

  Lauren scrambled up and reached for it.

  “Hi,” Scott said.

  “Oh, hello, Scott,” Lauren said, looking at Fred.

  “I was wondering about the office party tonight,” Scott said. “Would you like to go with me? I could come get you and we could take the presents over together.”

  “Uh . . . I . . .” Lauren said. She put her hand over the receiver. “It’s Scott. What am I going to tell him about the presents?”

  Fred motioned her to give him the phone. “Scott,” he said. “Hi. It’s Fred Hatch. Yeah, Santa Claus. Listen, we ran into a problem with the presents.”

  Lauren closed her eyes.

  “We got a call from the Upscale Oasis that investment pagers we
re being recalled by the Federal Safety Commission.”

  Lauren opened her eyes. Fred smiled at her. “Yeah. For excessive cupidity.”

  Lauren grinned.

  “But there’s nothing to worry about,” Fred said. “We replaced them. We’re wrapping them right now. No, it was no trouble. I was happy to help. Yeah, I’ll tell her.” He hung up. “Scott will be here to take you to the office party at seven-thirty,” he said. “It looks like you’re going to get your heart’s desire after all.”

  “Yeah,” Lauren said, looking at the TV. On the screen, the building and loan was going under.

  * * *

  They finished wrapping the last pair of scissors at six-thirty, and Fred went back to his apartment to change clothes and get his Santa Claus costume. Lauren packed the presents in three of the Upscale Oasis shopping bags, said sternly, “Don’t you dare touch these,” to the empty couch, and went to get ready.

  She showered and did her hair, and then went into the bedroom to see if the spirit had biodegraded her red dress, or, by some miracle, brought the black off-the-shoulder one back. He hadn’t.

  She put on the red dress and went back in the living room. It was only a little after seven. She turned on the TV and put Fred’s video in the VCR. She hit play. Edmund Gwenn was giving the doctor the X-ray machine he’d always wanted.

  Lauren picked up one of the shopping bags and felt the top pair of scissors to make sure they weren’t Yanomamo ornaments. There was an envelope stuck between two of the packages. Inside was a check for $5,895.36. It was made out to the Children’s Hospital fund.

  She shook her head, smiling, and put the check back in the envelope.

  On TV Maureen O’Hara and John Payne were watching Natalie Wood run through an empty house and out the back door to look for her swing. They looked seriously at each other. Lauren held her breath. John Payne moved forward and kissed Maureen O’Hara.

  Someone knocked on the door. “That’s Scott,” Lauren said to John Payne, and waited till Maureen O’Hara had finished telling him she loved him before she went to open the door.

  It was Fred, carrying a foil-covered plate. He was wearing the same sweater and pants he’d worn to wrap the presents. “Cheese puffs,” he said. “I figured you couldn’t get to your stove.” He looked seriously at her. “I wouldn’t worry about not having your black dress to dazzle Scott with.”

  He went over and set the cheese puffs on the coffee table. “You need to take the foil off and heat them in a microwave for two minutes on high. Tell PMS to put the presents in Santa’s bag, and I’ll be there at eleven-thirty.”

  “Aren’t you going to the party?”

  “Office parties are your idea of fun, not mine,” he said. “Besides, Miracle on 34th Street’s on at eight. It may be the only chance I have to watch it.”

  “But I wanted you—”

  There was a knock on the door. “That’s Scott,” Lauren said.

  “Well,” Fred said, “if the spirit doesn’t do something in the next fifteen seconds, you’ll have your heart’s desire in spite of him.” He opened the door. “Come on in,” he said. “Lauren and the presents are all ready.” He handed two of the shopping bags to Scott.

  “I really appreciate your helping Lauren and me with all this,” Scott said.

  Fred handed the other shopping bag to Lauren. “It was my plea-sure.”

  “I wish you were coming with us,” she said.

  “And give up a chance of seeing the real Santa Claus?” He held the door open. “You two had better get going before something happens.”

  “What do you mean?” Scott said, alarmed. “Do you think these presents might be recalled, too?”

  Lauren looked hopefully at the couch and then the TV. On the screen Jimmy Stewart was standing on the bridge in the snow, getting ready to kill himself.

  “Afraid not,” Fred said.

  * * *

  It was snowing by the time they pulled into the parking lot at work. “It was really selfless of Fred to help you wrap all those presents,” Scott said, holding the lobby door open for Lauren. “He’s a nice guy.”

  “Yes,” Lauren said. “He is.”

  “Hey, look at that!” Scott said. He pointed at the security monitor. “It’s a Wonderful Life. My favorite movie!”

  On the monitor Jimmy Stewart was running through the snow, shouting, “Merry Christmas!”

  “Scott,” Lauren said, “I can’t go to the party with you.”

  “Just a minute, okay?” Scott said, staring at the screen. “This is my favorite part.” He set the shopping bags down on the receptionist’s desk and leaned his elbows on it. “This is the part where Jimmy Stewart finds out what a wonderful life he’s had.”

  “You have to take me home,” Lauren said.

  There was a gust of cold air and snow. Lauren turned around.

  “You forgot your cheese puffs,” Fred said, holding out the foil-covered plate to Lauren.

  “There’s such a thing as being too self-sacrificing, you know,” Lauren said.

  He held the plate out to her. “That’s what the spirit said.”

  “He came back?” She shot a glance at the shopping bags.

  “Yeah. Right after you left. Don’t worry about the presents. He said he thought the staplers were a great idea. He also said not to worry about getting a Christmas present for your sister.”

  “My sister!” Lauren said, clapping her hand to her mouth. “I completely forgot about her.”

  “He said since you didn’t like it, he sent her the Yanomamo dress.”

  “She’ll love it,” Lauren said.

  “He also said it was a wonder Jimmy Stewart ever got Donna Reed, he was so busy giving everybody else what they wanted,” he said, looking seriously at her.

  “He’s right,” Lauren said. “Did he also tell you Jimmy Stewart was incredibly stupid for wanting to go off to college when Donna Reed was right there in front of him?”

  “He mentioned it.”

  “What a great movie!” Scott said, turning to Lauren. “Ready to go up?”

  “No,” Lauren said. “I’m going with Fred to see a movie.” She took the cheese puffs from Fred and handed them to Scott.

  “What am I supposed to do with these?”

  “Take the foil off,” Fred said, “and put them in a microwave for two minutes.”

  “But you’re my date,” Scott said. “Who am I supposed to go with?”

  There was a gust of cold air and snow. Everyone turned around.

  “How do I look?” Cassie said, taking off her coat.

  “Wow!” Scott said. “You look terrific!”

  Cassie spun around, her shoulders bare, the sequins glittering on her black dress. “Lauren gave it to me for Christmas,” she said happily. “I love Christmas, don’t you?”

  “I love that dress,” Scott said.

  “He also told me,” Fred said, “that his favorite thing in Miracle on 34th Street was Santa Claus’s being in disguise—”

  “He wasn’t in disguise,” Lauren said. “Edmund Gwenn told everybody he was Santa Claus.”

  Fred held up a correcting finger. “He told everyone his name was Kris Kringle.”

  “Chris,” Lauren said.

  “Oh, I love this part,” Cassie said.

  Lauren looked at her. She was standing next to Scott, watching Jimmy Stewart standing next to Donna Reed and singing “Auld Lang Syne.”

  “He makes all sorts of trouble for everyone,” Fred said. “He turns Christmas upside down—”

  “Completely disrupts Maureen O’Hara’s life,” Lauren said.

  “But by the end, everything’s worked out, the doctor has his X-ray machine, Natalie Wood has her house—”

  “Maureen O’Hara has Fred—”

  “And no one’s quite sure how he did it, or if he did anything.”

  “Or if he had the whole thing planned from the beginning.” She looked seriously at Fred. “He told me I only thought I knew what I wanted f
or Christmas.”

  Fred moved toward her. “He told me just because something seems impossible doesn’t mean a miracle can’t happen.”

  “What a great ending!” Cassie said, sniffling. “It’s a Wonderful Life is my favorite movie.”

  “Mine, too,” Scott said. “Do you know how to heat up cheese puffs?” He turned to Lauren and Fred. “Cut that out, you two, we’ll be late for the party.”

  “We’re not going,” Fred said, taking Lauren’s arm. They started for the door. “Miracle’s on at eight.”

  “But you can’t leave,” Scott said. “What about all these presents? Who’s going to pass them out?”

  There was a gust of cold air and snow. “Ho ho ho,” Santa Claus said.

  “Isn’t that your costume, Fred?” Lauren said.

  “Yes. It has to be back at the rental place by Monday morning,” he said to Santa Claus. “And no changing it into rain forest by-products.”

  “Merry Christmas!” Santa Claus said.

  “I like the way things worked out at the end,” Lauren said.

  “All we need is a cane standing in the corner,” Fred said.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Santa Claus said. “Where are all these presents I’m supposed to pass out?”

  “Right here,” Scott said. He handed one of the shopping bags to Santa Claus.

  “Plastic shopping bags,” Santa Claus said, making a “tsk”-ing sound. “You should be using recycled paper.”

  “Sorry,” Scott said. He handed the cheese puffs to Cassie and picked up the other two shopping bags. “Ready, Cassie?”

  “We can’t go yet,” Cassie said, gazing at the security monitor. “Look, It’s a Wonderful Life is just starting.” On the screen Jimmy Stewart’s brother was falling through the ice. “This is my favorite part,” she said.

  “Mine, too,” Scott said, and went over to stand next to her.

  Santa Claus squinted curiously at the monitor for a moment and then shook his head. “Miracle on 34th Street’s a much better movie, you know,” he said reprovingly. “More realistic.”

  A Foreigner’s Christmas in China

  Maureen F. McHugh

  * * *

  I don’t usually drink, maybe a couple of times a year. I warn you, a couple of wine coolers, a little sleep deprivation at a convention like this, and I’ll bore anyone to death. But since everybody is telling about weird experiences. . . . My one paranormal experience was in China, and it could have been a stress reaction.