Who Shot Father Christmas?

by Tony Spencer

  Ella saw him reasonably close-up as he put the box down and slapped Stan on the back and grinned happily as the pair exchanged greetings and pleasantries. Ella was devastated how closely he resembled Mickey, his hair a dark blond, with open honest, good-looking face nicely tanned, his blue eyes flashing with happiness. He smiled warmly and broadly, white teeth standing out brightly above his slightly cleft chin. As far as she could tell he could have been Mickey's twin brother, the cleft chin being the only marginal difference between them.

  She was in the ideal spot now to do the deed, Ella could step out from behind the gloomy packing cases and within half a dozen steps be in a position to bang three close-range slugs in him and scoot out of the door in the confusion, maybe taking out Mickey on the way through.

  That was when Ella the hitwoman lost her resolve. That was when Ella's hopes to follow the family tradition melted away like white Christmas snow in June. She couldn't do it, of course she couldn't. She could no more shoot Father Christmas than she could the love of her life. She would have to ring Manny and tell him so, then she would have to go to her Momma and cry, probably for the rest of her life.

  Ella realised she still had the weapon in her hand and she replaced it in her purse and edged towards the doorway, keeping well into the shadows. With everyone busy meeting and greeting she was missed by virtually everyone and was able to get away through the doors without comment.

  Nicky thought he saw Bella wearing dark clothing moving slowly and silently in the shadows behind some boxes which formed the back of the penned area. With no lights over there he thought he must've imagined her. He was so obsessed with his love for his sister that he was starting to see her face, her look, even smell her perfume, everywhere he went. Look, he thought, it must've been a figment of my imagination because there she is, surrounded by a bunch of elves all trying to get her attention and she's wearing a red coat and white furry boots. So he promptly forgot seeing the apparition of a beautiful brunette, otherwise known as Ella, who looked so similar to the vision that occupied both his gaze and thoughts now and ever, the woman in which he had invested all his hopes for the future.

  ***

  Before she phoned her mother, a tearful Ella called her Uncle Manny from a pay phone at the airport, just before her flight left for Pittsburgh, and left a voicemail.

  "Uncle Manny, I couldn't get the Christmas present you wanted, I am so sorry! I fell in love with ... a lighthouse keeper. I will pay back your money I spent as soon as I can."

  She wasn't to know that it was late afternoon on Christmas Eve in Florida and Manny had taken Cherry out for a lunchtime drink and they didn't go back to the office at all afterwards. Cherry went home to her family, via the supermarket for top-up food to ensure they wouldn't run out. Manny went home to his grossly oversized wife and grossly undersized teenaged daughters, ready to start the holidays.

  Manny also missed the earlier recording of Nick, requesting that the current contract be scrapped, the staff downsizing was no longer required, and accepted that the agreed fee was non-refundable and would be delivered as arranged in due course.

  Ella then phoned her Momma to say she was waiting for her plane and would be home soon and would get a cab at the other end.

  ***

  Back at the hangar, the reason for the early gathering of the elves, the extra sleighs and the double team of reindeers became clear as Stan and Nick unhitched the main sleigh and dragged it to one side. The elves, Mickey and Bella were to deliver a couple of elves, a few cases of wine and some testing glasses to each Christmas fair and wait for phone calls when any needed restocking. Pop and Stan were to ferry back and forth from the winery with more bottles.

  Nick finished a conversation with Nicky and shook his hand as Mickey approached. "Son, I'm proud of what you are doing today to help out Mickey and his father and motivate the elves. I think this is going to be the best Christmas ever!"

  "Thanks, Dad, I appreciate your faith in me, I actually believe I can do it at last!"

  Mickey shows Nicky a branch cut from a vine with some sad yellow leaves attached. "Bella says you're good with plants ... er ... Pop's trying to grow new vine cuttings and fresh rootstock in the hothouse for planting out in spring, but look how pale and sickly they look. He faces ruin, Nicky, the sales of wine will only delay the inevitable, unless ..."

  "Oh!" Nicky said as he examined the specimen, "That is definitely a classic case of chlorosis, or iron deficiency, common with grapes grown on limestone soils - I did a paper on this three years ago, it's easily treatable ..."

  Pop and Nick both surrounded the pair of young men, both suddenly very proud of their respective sons. Betty looked up at them standing together and suddenly recognised the fathers from all those years ago.

  "Sorry," she said, "I was confused by all the introductions earlier, but now I know who you all are." She smiled at the four of them rather stupidly, it was a look that was all her own.

  "You," she pointed to Nick, "Are the father of Nicholas..." he beamed proudly at her proclamation, pleased that his son was doing the right thing and seemed to be able to help Mickey's Pop with the underlying problem at the farm, "... And you are Michael's father..." Pop grinned and nodded too at Betty's pointed finger.

  "... So you must be Nicholas and you must be Michael!" she exclaimed as she pointed first to Mickey and then to Nicky, smiling in simple triumph as only she could.

  All four men were suddenly silent, their smiles vanishing. Mary and Bella turned from what they were doing and started to walk towards the group.

  Nick spoke up first, "Sorry, Betty, you've got a bit mixed up. This is Pop's son Mickey, he is the lighthouse keeper and sometimes works for the post office, and this is my son Nicky, he's Father Christmas."

  Nicky put his arm around his father's shoulders, delighted in each others company at last, both saying together, "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

  Everybody laughed except Betty, who continued to look at the young men with her index finger resting on her chin.

  "Nooo," she said slowly, emphatically, "I think you are pulling my leg. I remember old Nurse Janet filling in the name tags that I wrapped around both your tiny little ankles moments after you were born. One of you came from the righthand room, the other from the left.

  "I remember Nurse Janet saying we had to be so careful after we washed you nice and clean before weighing you and taking you back to your mothers. We must take care, repeated Nurse Janet, these babies are like peas in a pod. This one is Nicholas and this one is Michael. I know how to tell them apart, I said as she handed me the first tag. Michael is the one with the nick in his chin and Nicholas is the one who hasn't got the nick in his chin." Betty smiled in her triumph, knowing with her simple certainty that she was right.

  Mary put her hand up to her mouth and Bella fainted.

  Betty looked at the two woman and then back at the two young men, "So I was given Nicholas's tag and, remembering the nick in the chin, I very carefully ..." she closed her eyes to better remember the old images in her head. "Oh dear, I think I may have made an awful blunder ..." She opened her eyes and looked at the men all staring at her, then at Mary kneeling to shake Bella into consciousness.

  Betty appealed to the assembly, "Can you ever forgive me?"

  ***

  That afternoon a flight arrived at LAX missing one passenger who was ticked off on the manifest and a ticket issued at the departure desk in St Nicholas City. A search of the hold revealed no luggage for the missing person. As the CAA investigator, eager to get home to see his family in time for the egg nog to which he felt entitled, said,

  "Look, the ticket record in Hicksville USA can be discounted as a simple admin error, no-one on the plane can recall seeing anything, the dumb stewardess who ticked the damn list never saw nothing. It's a pressurised cabin for cryin' out load, not even Father Christmas coulda got off that plane in mid-flight ..."

  He laughed and the aircrew laughed with him, only one stewardess joined in a little unc
ertainly, biting her lip ...

  ***

  A Florida sitting room, just a few minutes before dawn on Christmas morning.

  Bang! Bang!

  Two shots rang out in quick succession, echoing in the tiny sitting room, and Father Christmas fell back into the fireplace clutching his chest, dropping the near-empty sack he had been carrying at his feet. Liquid oozed from the two holes in his red tunic, glistening darkly in the flickering lamplight as Santa lay still.

  Manny Bertoni moved forward a couple of steps ready to deliver the single trademark coup de grace to the head when he heard the familiar smooth sharp clunk of an automatic weapon pumping a round ready to fire in the chamber, along with an equally familiar female voice saying,

  "Drop it, Uncle Manny, drop the weapon, now!"

  Manny released his thumb gripping his pistol, which spun around and dangled harmlessly upside down from his stiffened index finger.

  "Merry Christmas, Ella. I must say youse is the last poisson I expected to see here tonight, well, this morning. Wha' youse doin' here?"

  "I had to watch my husband's back, didn't I?"

  "Husband? ... I thought youse wus in love with that, er what was he, a lighthouse keeper?"

  "I was ... I am ... but he is also ... Father Christmas."

  "Oh, who woulda guessed?"

  "Who woulda?" she agreed.

  There was a groan from the floor and Father Christmas sat up, rubbing his chest, gingerly.

  "Oww! That really hurt, honey, you know. You could've warned me that it would hurt as bad as this, sweetheart." He rose to his feet slowly, his huge stomach wobbling as he did so.

  "I didn't want you to flinch, sweetie, you might've put Uncle Manny off his aim."

  "And I wouldn't want to do that why, sweetheart?"

  "Because Uncle Manny is a professional and therefore I knew he would fire two shots neatly grouped in your heart and then step forward to shoot you in the head from close range, giving me plenty of time to get the drop on him, sweetie."

  "Oh! Sounds reasonable when you put it like that, sweetheart."

  Ella flashed him a beautiful loving smile and blew him a kiss with her lips, while professionally maintaining a double-handed bead on her uncle's heart.

  "What I wants to know," interrupted Manny, "is why is he up and about as if nothin' happened when I knows I hit him twice in the heart?"

  "Kevlar," Santa grinned, "It's amazing what the elves can run up quickly when asked nicely. Plus plenty of Father Christmas patented padding, mostly made up of millions of mince pies and cookies!"

  "So what's that stuff leakin' from the wounds, huh?"

  Mickey ran a finger along his chest and licked it, wrinkling his nose above the white moustache and beard that had sprouted up suddenly only hours ago and was already reducing towards a stubble as the dawning of Christmas Day approached.

  "Napoleon Brandy," he declared. "I was really fond of that flask, too! It was a Christmas cum Wedding present from my bride. It had sentimental value."

  "It also had extra insurance value, never fully trusted Kevlar, sweetie."

  "Well, thanks for the thought, sweetheart."

  "You're very welcome, sweetie."

  "So, Ella, I thought youse only just met this fella. How's youse twos married already?"

  "My real father, St Nick, is also the North Pole Justice of the Peace, it turns out. He sort of insisted he marry us, once we had covered half the world and stopped off at Mom and Dad's for midnight coffee, and we were more than happy to get ourselves hitched by then, weren't we, sweetheart?"

  "We were, sugar," Ella had never been happier than now, looking at her husband, seeing his white beard, hair and large girth gradually fade back to normal as the sky outside Manny's den windows got demonstrably lighter. The work of the night was almost over and soon she could concentrate on just loving him, not just now but for the rest of their lives. She grinned at him and winked before turning back to her uncle.

  "This Christmas Magic is amazing, Uncle Manny. For you this night is just one night, for Mickey and me, we've been all over the world and in every child's house and the passing of time for us has slowed to almost a stop. We have travelled everywhere in between and cuddled up together for warmth and smooched a little, ok, a lot! We have talked and talked and found out everything there is to know about ourselves and our love for each other is deeper than I could've possibly imagined. This night has been like spending a lifetime with my life partner and hopefully we will share another fifty, sixty of these special Christmas Nights, who knows? ... And in between Christmases we are going to have a whole bunch of bambinos, we're not going to have the same problems that Mom and Dad had this year ever again!

  "Your niece appears to have got her claws in Santa Claus and I couldn't be happier," beamed Mickey.

  "Take his gun, sweetie," said Ella, waving her gun in Manny's direction.

  "It's ok, I don't need it now, I'll drop the gun," said Manny. He did, stooping slightly to rest it gently on the ground, "It's my favourite gun, youse know," he added by explanation. Mickey, otherwise known as Father Christmas, gently nudged the gun out of sight under Manny's chair.

  "So, Ella, what's goin' on? When did the lighthouse guy become Father Christmas?"

  "Last night, on Christmas Eve. None of us knew he was the real deal. Then he flew into the City airport, followed my plane that had just taken off and, as calm as you like, he whisked me away with him."

  "I never saw no mention of this on the news."

  "You wouldn't, Uncle Manny. Father Christmas has a way of making people forget when they happen to see him. It happens all the time in sitting rooms like this as little kiddies stay up all night hoping to catch a glimpse. Sometimes they do and then, well ... they don't."

  "Does that mean I'm gonna forget this conversation?"

  "Huh huh! The magic happened just in time to save Christmas. We've delivered all the presents to all the children, just your one to go, and that we left until last."

  "Are youse sure I gets a present? I've never got no presents from Santa before."

  "You get what you wished for this year, Mister Bertoni," Father Christmas said, "Without you helping us resolve some long-time problems we may never have had a Christmas at all this year. For some reason, you are on both the Naughty List and the Nice Book, a rare distinction. Don't ask me how I know, that's the Magic working, but I believe that only one other person that has ever appeared in both lists in the same year, only don't tell anyone ... is Mother Theresa."

  "Mother Theresa!?" Manny and his niece exclaimed at the same time.

  "Something about lighting farts, I don't get the full story coming through, looks like the secretariat tried to hush it up, it was a long time ago after all. Apparently, the elves that year were particularly strict for some reason."

  "So why is Uncle Manny in both lists this year, Mickey, sweetie?"

  "Well, sweetheart, my new Dad had him removed from the Naughty List and put him in the Nice Book for the reason we both know about, but Nicky reinstated his Naughty List entry at the last minute and so he's ended up in both and, as such he is still entitled to his present. Well, for this one year only."

  "Which is, sweetie?"

  "That, I think, Niece, should be betweens me and Father Christmas, don't youse, Santa?"

  Mickey grinned as he picked up his sack and delved around inside for the last Christmas present of the year, which was wrapped as agreed in plain brown paper and he put it on the arm of Manny's chair. "I think we will leave it over here as a nice surprise for you to open later, Manny. Can I call you Uncle by the way?"

  "You can Nephew, and my best wishes go out to youse both. So where's youse two loveboirds goin' now?"

  "When we're done here we're going to Momma's to introduce her to my husband. Then home to the North Pole to start our honeymoon." Ella suddenly frowned as she noticed Santa neatly folding his empty sack. "What, no present for my Momma, sweetie?"

  "Don't know how to say this,
sweetheart," Mickey said sadly, reaching out and clutching his bride to his chest and stroking her hair. "She's been on the Naughty List for about ten years or so."

  "Oh!" Ella looked shocked, then smiled weakly, "I guess I always knew, just never admitted it to myself. When I was a little girl and wanted to er, follow the family trade, I used to practice tailing Poppa and I didn't like what I saw him doing in alleyways and motel rooms. I guess Momma didn't approve of it much either. Can't say I blame her, if she hadn't done the deed, I might have worked my way up to doing it myself!" she looked up at her husband, "Sorry if that's too wrong or bad for you, sweetie."

  "Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart," Mickey squeezed her affectionately. "You didn't do anything wrong and she's gradually been dropping down the List ever since so she should fall off the end one of these days, especially when she gets used to staying up at our place to baby-sit her grandkids!"

  "Well, I'd like to butt in here an' say I'm prouda my lil'Sis, youse can send her my love when youse sees her, even if I do forget all this by the morning."

  "We will, Uncle Manny. It'll be real nice for her to come up and spend some time with us at home, though. I'm looking forward to seeing it properly myself and making it homely for us, sweetie. Momma must be lonely in Pittsburgh now that the rest of the family have left home and scattered around the country. She has put on a little weight but she is still pretty cute. Perhaps we could ask Pop to come up stay at the same time, too, now that Nicky is going to be running the farm and Bella shipping the wine?"

  "Are you trying to to be a matchmaker for your Momma already, sweetheart? We haven't even started our own honeymoon yet!"

  "Well, we better get going then, sweetie, it's about time we did something about starting those bambinos, so Merry Christmas, Uncle Manny, perhaps we'll see you next year."

  "Not if I sees youse two foirst. Now get outta here, I got my prezzie to open!"

  THE END

  Tony Spencer

  Is living in the UK and has been writing all his life, mostly sports reports with provincial newspapers and some factual works and now concentrating on fiction. Was a printer and proofreader for over 40 years and still freelancing as a 'corrector of the press'.