A Damsel for Santa

by Terry Ambrose

  Chance cleared his throat.

  "I think our director doesn't want us talking smut about our fellow cast members, Mrs. Claus." I winked at her.

  "Gotcha." She chuckled, then added, "I think she's gone off her meds."

  What was this? A joke? Chance's idea of a Christmas prank? "Are you serious? Did you put these people up to this?"

  He gave me a blank stare. "What?"

  "What do you mean what? Out front I met a drug dealer and a junkie. You've got a menopausal Mrs. Claus who needs a fan to keep her cool? And she's telling me about a witness-protection basket case who's gone off the rails?" I looked at Mrs. Claus. "No offense."

  She glared at me. "Listen, Santa, I hate this crap as much as anyone. You're welcome to my hot flashes any day."

  "I apologize. I didn't mean to upset you, but you've got to admit, this is a lot to take in. What have you gotten me in to, Chance?"

  "It's a play, McKenna. They're actors. Like everyone else, they all have their little quirks. You've got yours too, you know."

  "You tell him, Chance. The last Santa was no prize. This one's not starting off a whole lot better. Miller wasn't out front?"

  "No," Chance said. "We didn't see him."

  "Who's he?" I asked. "Another reject? And what was wrong with the last Santa?"

  "He kept scratching himself where he shouldn't." Mrs. Claus held my gaze.

  "Enough," Chance said. "We've got a play to put on."

  Mrs. Claus continued without missing a beat. "Mutt and Jeff must have seen you coming."

  "Willow! Please…you're reminding me of McKenna."

  She gave Chance a mock salute. "Aye, aye, Captain. Anyway, I guess that's why Miller scurried down here like a rat abandoning the ship. I never did see Tsuyoshi—he's the one who plays Jack Frost. They're always so secretive. So, what's your problem, Santa?"

  I groaned. This was not going as I'd hoped. I was making enemies, not friends. Maybe the storm had me on edge. I sighed and slumped forward. Chance was right, I had my fair share of quirks. I held out my hand and approached the woman whose real name I'd already forgotten. "I'm sorry about what I said, Mrs. Claus. I think it's the stress of the holidays."

  She didn't look happy as she took my hand in hers. "No worries. I think the storm has everyone out of sorts. You met Nicky and Kass, so let me be the first to warn you. Watch out for Nicky. He had a rough childhood—tree-hugger parents. They used to drag him along on their demonstrations. He's screwed up and loses it if you push him too hard."

  To the side, Chance made a show of his displeasure with all the gossip. When he was done, he cleared his throat. "Let me introduce you to some of the other creatives."

  Mrs. Claus angled her neck into the fan's breeze. She gave me a dismissive wave. "I wasn't supposed to tell you all that, but you'd figure it out sooner or later. Man, this sucks."

  3

  HOLLY

  I turned away, convinced I'd made it onto Santa's Naughty List and was doomed to the Worst Christmas Ever. Chance had his hand on the shoulder of a young girl who stood about four-and-a-half feet tall. She had an oval face with long brown hair and green eyes. The way she beamed at me, I could only call her smile infectious. At least she was probably normal. She bit her lower lip and stuck out her hand. "I'm Keisha Weil." Then, she giggled and added, "But, you can call me Holly. It'll be easier for you."

  "McKenna, this is Keisha. She's our child star. In the play, she's the one who sends you the note asking for help."

  Behind me, I heard Mrs. Claus. "Don't get fresh with the kid, Santa. I'm watching you."

  Holly peeked around me at the older woman. She hid her mouth with her hand and her temples crinkled as she laughed. "She's funny."

  "Yeah, kid, funny." But, I didn't think we meant it the same way.

  The girl stepped forward and hugged me. "You'll be a good Santa, I can tell."

  "Nice to meet you, too…uh, Holly. How old are you?"

  "Nine."

  "You must like acting."

  "Kinda. Mom says I'll be a big star."

  "Is that what you want?" I asked.

  She leaned in close and whispered. "I'm glad you're here, most of these people are weird."

  Behind me I heard Mrs. Claus moan again and snicker, but I ignored her.

  Holly's eyebrows went up and she watched me with hope in her eyes. She asked, "Why are you here?"

  "It's a way to give back. You know, Christmas, holiday season, raise money for a good cause. That kind of thing."

  She pumped her fist. Her smile was wide and bright. She took my hand and pulled me away. "I knew it! C'mon, we've got to get working on the Naughty and Nice list."

  Holly led me to where a young woman with shoulder-length purple hair stood alone. She introduced the woman as her sister Joy in the play. Joy had gray eyes and a crooked smile that made me wonder if she might be like Holly. A normal person who liked to act, not a weird actor with "quirks."

  "Roberta Kingsley. Our star is quite the little greeter, isn't she?" She held out her left hand, then looked down. "Sorry, I'm left-handed and always forget. I'm more of a hugger, but in this environment…and with the last Santa…" Her eyes darted around the stage.

  "He so belonged on the Naughty List," Holly said, her eyes wide.

  Joy and Holly exchanged a high five, then Joy said, "These people are…"

  "A bunch of prima donnas," Holly said.

  Joy winked at me. "She's a smart one."

  "I'm nine, not in kindergarten." Holly straightened her shoulders and stood a bit taller. "Besides, I'm going to be a writer, too. I want to have a New York Times bestseller and a movie deal before my sixteenth birthday."

  "What are you going to write?" I gazed at her, expecting the question to give her pause. It didn't.

  "Romantic thriller." She gave me a firm nod of her head.

  "You know what?" Joy said, "I think she'll do it, too. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get dressed."

  I watched her walk away and noticed how underweight she looked. It was a sharp contrast to Holly, who was on the chunky side. "I wonder if she's anorexic?" I must have spoken out loud, because Holly answered right away.

  "I could look like her if I wasn't diabetic." She grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. "Come on, I want you to meet my friend, Kass. She's cool."

  We walked by two men who were engaged in a deep conversation. Neither paid attention to us. The moment we were out of hearing range, Holly said, "The guy with the kinda gray hair is Jack Frost's assistant." She nudged me and whispered, "He just had a big fight with his wife."

  "Who's she?" I struggled to block out the chaos mounting around us. Actors in various stages of undress rushed in every direction. Some seemed calm, others near panic.

  Holly turned in a quick circle. "I don't see her around. But, he's afraid of her."

  The kid said the words with such conviction. She believed she had everyone figured out. I suppose at her age life was more black-and-white. "They look like they're hatching some sort of secret plan."

  "Good job, Santa." She raised her palm and we exchanged a high five. "They whisper together like that all the time. Maybe they're spies on a secret mission."

  Spies? Mission? I wasn't about to go there. "All the time? Literally? Or is that one of those figures of speech? You don't want to wind up on the Naughty List because you fibbed to Santa." I smiled at her.

  Holly's eyes widened and her smile faded. She bit her lower lip. "I've been good."

  Whoa, she was serious. "I was just kidding. You're being a huge help."

  She breathed a sigh of relief and her smile returned.

  "Look Holly, Chance didn't tell me anything about the play or the actors. Thank goodness you're…um, bringing Santa up to speed."

  "How could you not know about the play?"

  "Busy time of year, kid. You know how it is. Everything starts happening at once. I know it's called A Damsel for Santa. Chance did tell me that much."

  She spread her arms
wide. "So here I am. Your damsel. You have to save me."

  "From?"

  "Jack Frost. He totally kidnaps me and the only way I can escape is to send you a letter. I said it should be a message, but the old director said Santa didn't text. You text, right?"

  "Sure, kid, sure."

  "I knew his story was all messed up. Anyway, you swoop in with the reindeer and save the day. Then you say, 'Ho, ho, ho," and the play ends." She shrugged. "That's it."

  I surveyed the stage. It was small, barely large enough for a tree, some props, and a dozen actors. "I have reindeer? How do we fit them on this stage?"

  "They aren't real reindeer." Holly sighed. "Chance told me the City won't allow it. Besides, this is a kid's play, not a Broadway show. Here she is. Hey, Kass."

  She waved to the woman I'd called a junkie while talking with Mrs. Claus. I winced at the recollection. It hadn't been very Santa-like.

  Kass laid the rope she'd been holding on a table piled with props and blinked at me. Up close, I could see what I hadn't been able to outside, her glazed eyes. She was impaired, but functioning. "Hey, Santa."

  "McKenna," I said. "Nice to meet you…again."

  "You two need to get dressed!" Kass snuck a peek at her watch, then Holly. "Dress rehearsal, dude? Are you excited?"

  Holly smiled wide and her head bobbed. "I love dress up."

  "Stop doing introductions, then, and go show Santa where his suit is. We may have to do a few quick alterations." She pointed at me. "The old Santa was quite a bit bigger around the middle. We'll have to get you some padding. I'll check with Nicky. I'm sure we've got something that will be perfect."

  Once again, Holly took the lead, all the while chatting about the play and how "awesome" it was. She stopped in her tracks when a crack of lightning shook the old walls. Her hand tightened around mine and her eyes widened. I knelt next to her. "Are you okay?"

  "Lightning scares me." She swallowed hard and blushed. "I kind of freak out in the dark."

  "Don't worry. There are a lot of people here, so you have nothing to be afraid of. Besides, the lights won't go out. This storm isn't bad enough to cause severe damage."

  Holly's wide eyes bounced frantically around the room. Wow, she'd gone from easy and breezy to scared and paranoid in a heartbeat. I held her by the shoulders as I tried to reassure her.

  "Look, Holly, Christmas is all about giving back. The people here—they're a bit weird—but I'm sure they aren't going to want anything to happen to you. Keep that in mind. And, if you get scared, just grab somebody's hand. Your mom is in the play, too, yah?"

  "You'll be there for me if I freak out?"

  There were little worry lines on her forehead. This kid was petrified. I wondered if there was something else going on with her. "Do you have a medical condition, Holly?"

  "I'm a mental case." She broke into a smile and laughed, then took my hand and squeezed. "Just kidding. Come on, we're running out of time."

  4

  ARLENE

  The phrase "suit up" took on new meaning when I saw the red monstrosity I was expected to wear. The padding Kass and Nicky found looked like it was left over from a World War II bomb shelter. And the boots. Good grief, they were huge. Each one must have weighed twenty pounds.

  This thing was more suited to the North Pole than the tropics. It was heavy, scratchy, and made me feel like I'd instantly gained fifty pounds. Now I knew what a pig in an imu felt like. The underground oven analogy worked for me. This had to be how it felt at the bottom of a pit filled with hot rocks.

  By the time Holly had finished introducing me to a few more cast members, I'd vowed to extract a severe payment from Chance for involving me in this disaster. Christmas spirit or not, he was going to pay dearly. For starters, he could fly Benni here. I'd make up the rest of the rules as we went along.

  One of the final introductions Holly made was to her mother. Arlene Weil was a muscular woman with intense green eyes. Right off the bat, I could see how she could send the faint-hearted running. Her reputation as someone who knew how to be demanding appeared well-deserved. I'd kind of expected Holly to introduce us earlier, but after having met the woman, I understood why the girl had waited.

  At eight p.m., we began dress rehearsal. On one end of the stage, the Christmas tree stood tall and proud. It had large green, red, and blue balls and was topped with a gold star. The backdrop was painted as though it were a beach scene with white surf and blue ocean beneath a calming sky.

  Since I had no lines, all I had to do was stand backstage and wait. It soon became obvious why Holly had called her fellow cast members prima donnas. The way a couple of them projected, you would have thought they were delivering lines to a packed house on the largest Broadway stage—without a microphone. When the second act began, I was brought in and positioned on a replica of a large throne.

  Holly came and sat on my knee, then blushed as she positioned herself on my lap. "Am I too heavy?"

  I shook my head, ignoring the pain. "You're fine, kid." A few strands of her hair had fallen across her forehead, so I brushed them away with my gloved hand. I winked. "There, that's better."

  Holly's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

  "McKenna!" Chance rushed onto the stage from his post in the front row. He looked like his nose was out of joint for some reason. What had I done?

  I smiled at him. If nobody else around here could make nice, at least the kid and I could. "What's up?"

  "You just ruined Holly's makeup."

  "She was looking kind of disheveled, Mr. Director."

  A couple of the other actors snickered. Chief amongst them was Miller Huxley, who stood a few feet to my left.

  "That's how she's supposed to look," Chance growled. "She was kidnapped by Jack Frost. She's being held hostage to lure you into a trap. The idea is to destroy Christmas. Ergo, Holly is not supposed to look perfectly composed."

  "I'm…sorry," I said. "My bad. I won't do any makeup adjustments again."

  Holly winked at me, and Chance sighed before he turned away. "Okay," he called out. "Let's go back to Holly's line, 'Thank you for coming, Santa.'"

  I nudged Holly and muttered, "I think our director's getting a swelled head."

  Chance spun on his heel and glared at me. "Swelled head? You think I'm taking this too seriously, McKenna?" His face was about ten shades of red as he marched across the stage.

  "You…heard that?" I stammered.

  "Acoustics, McKenna. Look around, you're in a theater."

  To the side, Scrooge snickered.

  Chance turned on him next. "What are you laughing at? You're using a pool cue as your staff. What kind of actor are you, anyway? No, don't say a word."

  I'd never seen Chance so angry. It was like the pressure to put on a good play was more than he could handle. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was about to get fired. But then, he didn't have another Santa. What did I have to lose?

  He took two deliberate steps toward me. He stood only a few feet away. That's when it hit me. I had a friend to lose. Part of my ‘ohana…

  "Chance," I said. "You and I are like family. I'm sorry. I was out of line."

  He stared at me a moment, then cracked a smile. "All right, no worries. Let's get back to work, people." He retraced his steps and went down the stairs. A loud crack of thunder exploded overhead just as he reached the landing.

  The lights flickered a couple of times, then died. The inside of the theater fell into total darkness. Holly screamed and threw her arms around my neck. Her entire body shook so hard I felt her fear ripple through the Santa suit. I pulled her close.

  "It's okay, honey. It's just the storm."

  She buried her face into my shoulder. Her screams, though muffled by the suit, seemed amplified by the blackness around us. Footsteps pounded everywhere. Someone bumped my side. A hand slid down my arm, then was gone. Holly continued to wail.

  From backstage, I heard a man yell, "Emergency power failed!"

  "People, stay wh
ere you are! Wait for the lights. Nobody panic."

  It was Chance, trying to restore order, but it was already too late from the sounds of it. Between Holly's screams, the grunts, the groans—chaos was everywhere.

  Someone fell. They landed hard. Another scream. A beam of light appeared backstage.

  Nearby, a woman's voice cooed, "Don't worry, honey, somebody found a flashlight."

  A couple of seconds later, the light was gone. Why would they turn it off?

  Holly's sobs engulfed me. "I'm scared."

  "Nicky will have the power back on in a minute."

  It was the woman's voice again. She was in front of me. "Joy?"

  "Yeah, I'm here. Everything's going to be okay, sweetie, hang onto Santa." Her voice was velvety soft. "Everything will be better soon."

  I echoed her support. What else could I do?

  The emergency lighting flickered on a short while later. I tapped Holly's shoulder. "Look, sweetheart, we've got light again." It was too dim to make out her features, but the way she clutched me, I knew she was trying to find strength in the red suit.

  "It's so dark."

  Her voice might be muffled, but her fear was unmistakable. "Just pretend we're in a cave," I said.

  She buried her face deep into my shoulder and wailed, "I hate caves."

  All I could do was stroke her hair and tell her it would all be okay soon. Another flashlight beam pierced the dimness. It caught Arlene Weil scooting backwards across the floor on her butt, her face a mask of fear. She pointed with one finger toward the back of the stage.

  "Holy crap. Nicky, bring the First Aid kit."

  The light jerked away from Arlene. First Aid kit? Someone must have been injured. Was that Kass? I craned my neck to see what was happening, but it was hopeless. I couldn't escape Holly's grip, and she weighed far too much for me to lift her. I couldn't move until she let go.

  "I'm busy, Kass, gotta get the power back on."

  The inside of the theater lit up. I shielded my eyes against the sudden brilliance, and Holly's grip relaxed. She pulled away, her face black from smeared mascara. My guess was she'd decimated the Santa suit, too. Minor stuff as far as I was concerned.