The Santa Claus League T'was the Night Before Christmas

The Santa Claus League

T'was the Night Before Christmas. . .

Text Copywrite 2012 by Stephen Miller

Cover Art and Interior Art by Cyrene Swallow

Graphic Design by Sandra Bailey, Jordan Thomas and Sally Thomas

Cover Photography by Hannah I Miller & G. Earle Gardner

All Rights Reserved

Published by V&E Enterprises in partnership with Ivory Dusk L.C. at Smashwords

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2nd Edition October 2013

ISBN-13: 978-0-9827099-1-7

The Santa Claus League: T’was the Night Before Christmas. . .

By Stephen Miller

Illustrations by

Cyrene Swallow

Published by V&E Enterprises

in partnership with Ivory Dusk L.C.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Loren Wells Duke, the grandfather I never met.

His life is legendary; a beloved husband and father, accomplished musician and friend . . . and I’m sure a fully empowered member of the Santa Claus League. His influence is still growing. His Santa Claus suit still sparks with Christmas Magic.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: The Magic Box

Chapter 2: The Amazing Suit

Chapter 3: An Unexpected Stench

Chapter 4: The Santa Claus League

Chapter 5: T’was the Night Before Christmas

Chapter 6: Snake Skin’s Attack

Chapter 7: Time Warp

Chapter 8: How to De-fang a Snake

Chapter 9: Mr. Warner’s Secrets

Chapter 10: To the North Pole in a Chevy Nova

Chapter 11: Lunch With Jolly Old St. Nicholas

Chapter 12: Honoring Mr. Warner

Chapter 13: Pleading before the Council

Chapter 14: The Nova Goes Hypersonic

Chapter 15: Revealing the Santa Claus League

Chapter 16: Sharing Christmas Magic

Chapter 17: Killing Christmas

Chapter 18: Christmas Eve

Chapter 19: A Visit from St. Nicholas

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Chapter One: The Magic Box

I’ve discovered a lot about Christmas lately, more than I ever thought possible. Learning about Christmas past was simple, ancient facts are as nailed down as the old lid on Jacob Marley’s casket. Understanding the events of Christmas present is a little tougher, but not too bad if you know what to look for. It’s predicting the fate of Christmas yet to come that is as much a mystery to me now as it was to Ebenezer Scrooge so many years ago. I’m too young to have a very long past, so my present is especially hard to predict, and as for my future? Well, let’s just say my potential futures are spinning out of control.

Mason Howell is my given name, but Santa Claus is the one I prefer. If you can believe in Christmas magic, haunting ghosts and flying sleighs then this story will be easier to believe. And to those less trusting I ask a question, what are miracles anyway? Couldn’t they be acts of charity wrought by fellow mortals working in parallel dimensions? In my experience such unseen dimensions exist, for I haunt with such a league of ghosts and this story is how my friends and I joined them, becoming part of the Santa Claus League.

It was a Thursday evening, five days before Christmas. School had just closed its doors for the holidays a few hours before. It wasn’t soon enough for me. John Patten and I had suffered a whole day of classes, watching the clock freeze and thaw out until the teachers finally surrendered and let us free. The weather celebrated with us by dropping six inches of new fallen snow all over our little town of Moses Lake, Washington. The night crackled with excitement. Something important was about to happen. I wasn’t sure if that something was going to be good or bad, as John and I were in my parents’ bedroom breaking into my family’s most prized possession.

This is a bad idea, I groaned, trying to find an escape from the awful situation. If my mom and dad find out, they’ll kill me.

It’s for a higher cause, bro, John replied, helping me pull the large wooden box out from the dark closet.

I was surprised at how heavy the old chest was. We struggled for a few moments until it finally slid into the light. I had only seen the box a few times. It was so guarded, just the mention of its existence brought a reproving stare from my mother. The ancient teak chest was the color of liquid honey frozen in time. The lid was decorated with a scene from the North Pole, including Santa Claus flying through the air, sitting inside his reindeer-drawn sleigh. He was suspended in wood, hovering over a huge dome that held a mysterious city inside. Elves stood on the side panels acting like guards, keeping the contents of the box safe. Holly and ivy curled around its edges adding to its beauty. I was mesmerized and terrified at the same time.

You don’t understand! I complained desperately. The Santa Claus suit inside this box belonged to my Grandpa Adams. He’s like a legendary character out of a book. He was a war hero, a business leader, and the king of charity all wrapped up into one. He died twenty years ago but the whole family still gets together on his birthday to throw a party in his honor. He’s so revered strangers show up and celebrate with us.

That’s not so weird, John insisted, pulling the box into the middle of the floor. Lots of old folks come to stuff like that when they’re invited. What else can you do when you’re old?

That’s the thing. They’re not invited. Some of them don’t even speak English. And they’re not all old either. Mom always makes a huge birthday cake but no matter how big she makes it there are never any leftovers.

I can see what you’re doing, Mason, John frowned. You’re trying to get out of this. Julia Martin is the most popular girl in school. When she begged you to play Santa Claus for her father’s charity event tonight you jumped at the chance.

Pushed is more like it, I remarked under my breath.

Yeah, I know, he smiled. Pushed, shoved, volunteered; what’s the difference? The point is she needs someone to play Old Saint Nick and you have a suit. Sounds like a match made in heaven. Besides, she’s already paid you 25 bucks and promised another 25 when the job is done; you can’t back out now.

John was right. I couldn’t back out now. I was trapped by my own desire to please Julia Martin. I had always felt an incredible need to impress her. I took choir because she did, I tried out for the school play because I knew she would get the lead. Even though I never got a major acting role, just being in the same room with her was wonderful. I was smitten by her charm but now I had taken my obsession too far. What was I going to do?

I felt a pain run through my chest as I squared up to the old teak box. Why did I agree to such a stupid thing? I didn’t know how to play Santa Claus. I was only seventeen. I never learned any of my grandfather’s secrets. Where would I find the courage to promise little kids Christmas joy? And what if I let Julia down? That would be the worst thing of all.

In my darkest moment, a pair of carved elves on the side of the chest seemed to come alive, looking at me in amusement. I blinked my eyes to shake away the optical illusion but they wouldn’t go away. Both elves lifted their wooded hands up, encouraging me to open the box. Even the Santa Claus sitting in his sleigh turned to smile at me, anticipating something wonderful was about to happen.

Stop stalling, John warned. The party starts in less than an hour and Santa can't be late.

Alright, alright, I complained, starting to think I was going crazy. I closed my eyes and lifted up the heavy lid. See, it’s opened.

Before I could open my eyes a wave of familiar smells overtook me. The scent of candy canes, hot cinnamon rolls, and spicy apple cider took my breath away. Other smells followed like fresh pine needles, fireplace smoke, and midnight air. I was about to open my eyes when an overwhelming aroma hit me harder than any scent I have ever smelled. I was immersed in the fragrance of newly peeled oranges, dark hot chocolate and shortbread cookies fresh from the tin. I didn’t know it then, but I was smelling pure Christmas magic.

What’s with you? John complained. What are you sniffing at?

Don’t you smell that? I replied. Don’t you smell oranges and chocolate and … stuff?

I smell moth balls, he chided. It’s what I see that has me excited. Look at all that gold and silver! I didn’t know your grandpa was so rich!

I hadn’t even looked at what was inside the box. I was still too overwhelmed by the new smells of starry nights and wild breezes. Spurred on by curiosity, I opened my eyes to behold the most beautiful Santa Claus suit I had ever seen. The red velvet coat and pants were perfectly preserved, without a stain or blemish. The boots were polished so black they shone like the midnight sky I had smelled moments ago. White fur lined the velvet suit and, unsurprisingly, around the traditional Santa Claus hat as well.

John was right about the suit being valuable. Solid gold buttons ran down the middle of the coat, molded with the initials SCL. I figured the SC stood for Santa Claus, but the L baffled me. A golden watch attached to a sturdy gold chain lay in its own compartment. It had the same golden initials molded into the center of the case with ruby red holly berries and emerald green leaves surrounding the initials, forming a colorful circle. The outer circular edge bore the inscription, Helping the bad become good, Helping the good become great, Saving the world from evil. Next to the golden watch was a long line of silver sleigh bells connected to a well-worn black leather strap, all begging to be jingled.

I seriously want to hit you over the head right now and steal all this stuff, John mumbled under his breath. This is amazing.

It really… is… amazing, I stammered, every part of me yearning to touch the velvet coat. Do you think I should put it on?

Duh! he said, rolling his eyes. Just think how happy you’ll make all those little kids, getting to sit on the lap of a real live Santa Claus.

Don’t you mean they’ll get to sit on the lap of someone pretending to be Santa?

Yeah, whatever. They’re little kids, what difference does it make if you’re the real Santa Claus or just pretending? Once you wear that suit, you’ll be real to them.

I reached into the box and started pulling out all the pieces of the outfit, hanging them up in a big garment bag. I didn’t want to put it all on until I got to the community center. Coat, pants, belt, boots, hat, gloves… I was able to find the basics just fine. I even found a red velvet Santa Claus sack on the bottom of the chest with a white tie string to pull the top shut. I didn’t need that part of the outfit, so I left it there.

I was about to shut the lid when I realized something was missing, where was the beard? I looked around with a sickening feeling overwhelming me. Grandpa had his own white beard, I was told, and never had need for anything artificial. Maybe it didn’t come with a beard? I panicked. That would make me the lamest Santa Claus impostor ever!

To my relief I pulled out a lower box containing a beautiful white flowing beard and a wig to cover up my short blond hair. The beard-wig combo had a stretchy band that connected around my ears. I was feeling good now. The boots fit and the costume even came with socks. I quickly put them on, just to keep the changing process that much easier.

I was about to close everything up when another tray slid out, slamming into my hand. Resting inside the tray was a thin form-fitting bodysuit. The outer fabric was red and silk-looking but the inner fabric looked almost metallic with circuits woven into it. John started laughing and I eagerly attempted to slide the tray back to its hiding place.

You have to wear this, man, he laughed. This is sick.

I’m not wearing my dead grandpa’s winter long johns! I insisted. Don’t be pathetic.

Come on, he begged. "You can’t call these long johns, it’s more like…like a superhero costume made of some kind of crazy space-age fabric. You have to wear it. This is the complete Santa Claus outfit! What are you afraid of? If