Santa

I stormed in through the back door to find my mom in the kitchen.  Steam was rising from boiling pans on the stove.  She bent down to check whatever was in the oven.  Absently, without turning around, she said, “Dinner will be about 10 minutes, go and wash up.”

In a tone that demanded attention, I said, “First, I need to ask you something.”

My mom turned to look at me, as I leaned my kite up against the wall near the door.  

“Uh oh, have you and Gabe had a fight?”

I swung around to meet her gaze.  “No!  Well ... sort of.  We were talking about Santa and he said Santa wasn’t real.  I told him he was, and he told me that everyone in the second grade knew Santa wasn’t real.  And he was laughing at me!” 

My mom made a sort of humming sound, bit her lip as she pulled out a dining chair and turned it to sit down in front of me.  I had a bad feeling, especially when she leaned forward and grabbed one of my hands in hers. 

“Nikki, we’ve been wondering when to tell you, we should have told you before anyone else could, uh, how can I put this ...” 

She took a deep breath and my mouth flew open. 

“Oh my gosh!  Santa Isn’t real?”  The words came out barely a whisper. 

My mom shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, he isn’t.”

“What!  Why say that he is then?  Why are there stories about him, movies and presents and cookies?”

Her arm came up and snaked around my waist and pulled me closer to her. 

“Santa is for little kids, Nik.  You’re growing up and sooner or later you were going to have to be told the truth and I guess today’s the day.”

The shock horror forgotten for the moment, pain and anger welled up inside me. “Why lie in the first place?  Why make kids think that Santa’s real when he’s not?  I don’t understand that!”

“It’s a shock when you find out, I know.  Everyone goes through this.  I believed in Santa when I was little too, but I had to find out, when I was old enough, that he wasn’t real.”

“That’s mean!”  Tears started to fill my eyes, and my throat tightened. 

I couldn’t believe I’d been lied to by my parents and ... well, everyone!

“Oh Nik, you’re growing so fast.  I wish I didn’t have to tell you this.  But, Santa is a way to explain to small children about Christmas and to get them excited about Christmas.  Just because Santa isn’t real, doesn’t mean you stop getting presents.”  Her eyebrows lifted, a soft smile touched her lips and she wiggled my hand as she tried to coax a smile out of me.  

I didn’t feel much like smiling.  I was devastated.  

Then another thought occurred to me.  “Is the tooth fairy real?”

She grimaced, “No, sweetheart, I’m afraid not.” 

“So ... Tinkerbell and ... the forest fairies?”

She shook her head, with a sadness in her eyes.

A shuttering gasp escaped me as tears started to fall down my cheeks.  I stepped back and pulled my hand from my mothers and slunk off to my room.  Feeling bewildered and betrayed by everyone I knew.  I could hear Gabe’s voice echoing in my head, Everyone in the second grade knows that Santa isn’t real, moron!

I was so upset my insides hurt.  No Santa Claus, no Tooth Fairy or Tinkerbell ... what was there left to dream about?

© Nichola Lovell  July 17th 2016