Mary’s Son (4 page)

The three girls took their places around the table.

“Well, you two look pretty,” Mary said to the twins. “Where’s Jared?”

“He’s still in bed, Momma,” offered Katie.

“He said he’ll be down soon,” said Amanda.

“Well, we’ll have to start without him,” said Mary.

They bowed their heads and began to say grace together as Billy smiled and pounded on his high-chair tray. After the prayer, Mary poured milk into the bowls and passed them around the table. When Jared walked in, still disheveled from sleep and sporting a sour look, Mary smiled at him but said nothing.

“Can we go see Santa today, Momma?” asked Kayla.

“Maybe after church, honey. C’mon now, eat quickly because it’s almost time to go.” She glanced at Jared and asked, “Aren’t you coming with us, Jared?”

“Naw. I’ve got to see the guys this morning,” he grunted at her, stretched, glanced at the oatmeal, and frowned.

“Can’t you see them after services?” Mary asked.

“Momma, do you think Santa can bring me a bike this year?” interrupted Amanda.

Mary turned slowly from Jared, who rolled his eyes at the stupidity of his sister’s question.

“You can ask him, child. We’ll see,” Mary answered.

“C’mon, Amanda. You’re too old to believe in Santa,” Jared blurted.

All sound at the table ceased. The three girls stared at their brother. Mary’s eyebrows raised in a plea for Jared to hush.

“Well…she is,” Jared continued. “There’s no real Santa, so why even.…”

“Yes there is!” shouted the twins.

“Jared! That’s enough!” exclaimed Mary.

“Well, why fill them with false hope, Mom?” he asked, angrily. “This is all we’ll ever have. Why dream?”

“Jared! Stop that talk!” Mary almost shouted.

“Jared’s wrong, isn’t he, Momma?” asked Katie.

Mary glared at Jared. “Of course he’s wrong, honey. For those who don’t believe in Santa, he never comes. If you believe, he’ll do wonderful things for you.”

Despite the family’s perilous financial condition, Mary wanted desperately to help her kids maintain at least some sense of fantasy in their lives, if only for a little while longer, before they too had to deal with the harsh realities of life. She worked every day as a secretary at Stone Industries. And even though her supervisor had apologized on behalf of the company for firing Joe when they’d found the real thief, it hadn’t brought Joe back, and she was angry. But she’d had no choice but to keep the job as well as find a part-time night job at a mall card shop. Every cent helped, especially at Christmas. She again stared at Jared, trying with her eyes to make him stop spreading his bitterness.

Jared pushed his bowl away and stood up abruptly as the twins turned at him with a “see, I told you so” look. Amanda continued to stare at her mother, doubt suddenly creeping into her mind. Mary turned back to Amanda.

“We’ll go see him today.” Then to Jared, “Where are you going?”

“Out!”

Jared grabbed his sweatshirt and opened the door. Mary jumped out of her own seat to follow him. “Amanda, keep an eye on Billy for a minute,” she said.

“Jared,” she called when she reached the door and saw her son start to run. “Jared, please wait a minute.”

Although the rain had stopped, it was still gray, dreary, and promising more. Jared, ashamed, bewildered, and angry, turned slowly.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Mary pleaded. “And please don’t do this to your sisters. Don’t make them feel there’s no hope.”

“Well, there isn’t, Ma. What’s to hope for? We’re poor; we’ll never get outta here.”

“Don’t ever say that again,” she flared. “We don’t have money, but we’ve got each other. We need to stick together and help each other. If we do, God will always be there for us.”

“Ah, Mom, what’s God done for us?”

“You’re healthy. And he’s given us all the ability to help ourselves.”

“How can you say that, Mom? We got nothin’.”

“You can’t lose hope or.…” She hesitated as tears came to her eyes. She had meant to mention Joe, but she couldn’t.
The pain was almost unbearable. After a few seconds she re-gathered her strength and continued. “I want this family to stick together, Jared. We need you.”

Jared dropped his head. “I won’t leave you. Don’t worry about that.” He hesitated, not sure whether to go back to his mother or keep moving. Finally, he shrugged toward the street and said resignedly, “Look, I gotta go. The guys are waiting.”

“I love you,” Mary said as Jared turned away. She understood the burdens her young son carried. He was the man of the house and took the responsibility seriously. It weighed heavily on him, and Mary felt so bad that such a young man had to carry such a load.

Jared disappeared at a run as he whispered, “I love you too, Mom.”

“I DON’T trust him, Mr. Stevens,” whispered Myra Grundick. She gave Stevens final instructions for the day’s outing. “Watch him closely and report everything to me. I want him out of here by tomorrow morning.”

Stevens nodded conspiratorially and marched determinedly out of the house.

Outside, the gray dreariness was finally giving way to
bright greens and soft blues as streaks of sunlight began to push their way through the clouds. Wet pavement and leaves bearing drops of rain sparkled in the sun’s expanding rays. Stevens opened the back door of a large white Mercedes. Sarah was dressed in a long brown coat with fox fur cuffs and collar. She marched smartly down the front steps and into the car’s backseat.

Nicholas came after Sarah. He walked nonchalantly with his hands clasped loosely behind his back and his eyes scanning the beauty of the rain-washed world around him. When he reached the car’s back door, held open for him by Stevens, he turned his smile toward the man.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it, Jonathan? Much like home for you,” he said.

Stevens held his head high, trying to ignore the comment but found himself wanting to answer the unusual little man. He couldn’t help thinking that Nicholas seemed to be such a happy, harmless fellow. Yet, in this day, those types could prove to be the worst of all. “You could never know for sure,” he said to himself as he shut the door and moved around to assume his position behind the wheel.

After Sarah fastened her seatbelt, she watched with some curiosity as Nicholas fumbled with his; but after several seconds, the curiosity was gone. She became exasperated and reached over to fasten his belt.

“Thank you, Sarah. You know, I never have learned to operate one of these automobiles. Or for that matter any of the belts and things inside.” Nicholas turned forward as the car began moving. “Wonderful invention—much nicer than they used to be.”

Nicholas nodded once at Sarah and then turned contentedly to his window to watch the world zip past him. Soon, however, he felt Sarah’s gaze boring into him, and he turned to her with his ever-present smile.

“Where were you hiding it?” she asked.

“What’s that, my dear?”

“The umbrella, of course. And how did you change the shoes?”

“Oh, you saw that, did you?” Sarah nodded slowly and stared intently at the man, hoping to discern the magician’s lie she was expecting. “Well, Sarah,” he continued, “I really didn’t do any of that…Peter did.”

The girl sat back with a quizzical look. That was an answer she hadn’t expected. Normally magicians conjured stories to embellish their tricks, but this man was taking a different approach. It was an imaginary friend named Peter who had helped him. This could be interesting, Sarah thought.

“Who’s Peter?” she asked.

Stevens pressed back into his seat to hear the response.

Nicholas hesitated and thought carefully before he answered the girl.

“Well, it wasn’t actually Peter who did it…you see, I told Peter we’d forgotten something…and suddenly…the umbrella was there in front of me and I…had new shoes.”

Stevens smiled broadly at that comment. In his rearview mirror he saw Sarah’s eyes narrow. He knew the girl wouldn’t believe something so outlandish.

The girl eyed Nicholas in silence, trying to make sense of what she had just heard. She had long ago given up all her imaginary friends. Yet, sitting next to her was this unusual man who spoke of an imaginary friend as if he was real. This was an area of adult behavior Sarah had never seen except in movies involving crazy people. But this was real. Nicholas was actually sitting next to her, and she didn’t know how to react. Instead, she decided to change her tack.

“Who are you, Nicholas?” she asked.

“You’ve said it, my dear. I’m Nicholas. Unfortunately, though, I can’t remember my last name. It’s been so long since I’ve used it.… You and most children would know me as Santa Claus.”

This time Stevens’ eyes grew wide, and he swerved the car with a quick pull of the wheel. Despite Nicholas’s written claim in the application and his seeming knowledge of things about Stevens’ youth only a “Santa Claus” would know, it
hadn’t really struck Stevens that the man truly thought he was Santa Claus. Yet it now appeared he did.

Sarah didn’t hesitate for a moment. “No, you’re not!” she said flatly. “I heard what Miss Grundick said. I want you to tell me the truth. You are not Santa Claus,” she concluded.

“Oh, yes…I am. Why do you say I’m not?”

Sarah’s anger turned to haughtiness. If there was one thing she knew for a fact it was that there was no such thing, and she really needed to get past this issue quickly.

“Because Santa Claus doesn’t exist,” she responded. “Everyone with any brains knows that.”

“I certainly hope there aren’t many people with any brains then, because I wouldn’t have many believing in me,” Nicholas retorted.

“There’s no such thing as Santa Claus!” Sarah said firmly. “You’re lying!” She turned away from Nicholas.

Nicholas’s smile faded. It was not unusual for eleven-year olds to stop believing in Santa. Although that bothered him, Nicholas’s real concern was with the extreme intensity of Sarah’s feeling.

“Of course there is, Sarah, and I’m him,” Nicholas said. “But for those who don’t believe in me, I can’t exist. I can help only those who believe. Why do you feel I don’t exist?”

“You don’t…I mean you do.… But…you’re not Santa Claus. There’s no such person.” Sarah was flustered. She
turned again and stared out her window, arms folded in front of her, angry. While Nicholas frowned sadly, Stevens tried to smile, knowing Nicholas had sealed his fate in the Stone employ. It was clear Sarah had nothing more to discuss with Nicholas. Stevens should have been happy that the little man—whatever his purpose—had destroyed any chance of prolonging his stay with the Stones. But, for some reason, he was not. The intensity of Sarah’s feeling on the subject surprised him. He had always loved Christmas and the hopes and wonders it brought to his youth. To see that Sarah, at such a young age, had none of those hopes made him feel some of the same sadness Nicholas’s face showed.

For Sarah, the mall was an escape. Living in a mansion as an only child surrounded by servants, cooks, maintenance workers, maids, and other adults intent on their household tasks left Sarah without any real human companionship. Because she went to a private school some distance from her home, she had no friends within easy access, and if the truth were told, even those at school with whom she had contact were not really friends at all. The occasional help like Brockton Smith, who was hired to keep her out of everyone else’s hair, provided her no friendship. The Brockton Smiths of her world weren’t there to listen to her problems or to advise her how one might deal with an issue or even join her in some fun activity. They were there simply to watch over her, make sure she was safe, discipline her where necessary, and always report the day’s events to Miss Grundick so she could assure Sarah’s father that Sarah was indeed active each day.

Sarah loved her father, although not the way she did when she was little, of course. Then, she adored him. Now,
she was too old for that. Jonas was her father, and she loved him the way all kids were supposed to love their fathers. If she gave the matter any thought, she figured her love changed because that was what happened when kids got older. After all, he changed, didn’t he? He was different than when she was younger. Back when her mother, Annie, was still alive, he was happy—fun too. He always wanted to hang out with Sarah and Annie. He liked that even more than work it seemed.

When the drunk driver crossed into Annie’s lane and caused the collision that killed both drivers, Sarah was five years old. She remembered her daddy, as she called him at the time, crying a lot after that. She cried with him because mommy wasn’t coming home anymore, and even though she didn’t understand everything that happened, she did understand that her daddy was very sad. She tried to make him happy with hugs as much as she could, but soon she began to see him a lot less. He became busier at work, and Sarah grew into her own world of private school and escorts by hired help. She and her father spent less time together, and every day there seemed to be fewer hugs, until, one day, there were none.

Jonas was still Sarah’s father. He made sure she was cared for and that she had the best education and the best clothes and the best electronics. As Sarah grew older, she learned to accept the changes in him. She’d throw tantrums, of course.
What kid didn’t? And she’d do whatever was needed to get her way. As she got older, she also learned about the world. She learned it didn’t care. No one really did, and if she wanted attention, as everyone did from time to time, she would simply have to demand it. Demanding attention was something at which she became very good.