The Miracle on 34th Street (6 page)

"Cole's is going to deny any responsibility for Kriss?"

"We're not going to endorse what he did. He's obviously unbalanced, Dorey. You said it yourself."

"And if I remember correctly," Dorey shot back, "
you
said it wasn't a problem! This store is going to stand by Kriss Kringle. If they can prosper with him, they can suffer with him."

She spun around and stormed out of the room. Shellhammer bolted up from his desk and followed her.

Dorey wound her way through the hallways, straight toward the ofi~ce of Mr. Cole.

Shellhammer's eyes popped. There was a board meeting inside. She couldn't—

Dorey pushed through the big oak doors and walked right in.

"We must distance ourselves from this scandal—" Mr. Cole was saying. He interrupted himself and glared at Dorey. "Mrs. Walker, we're in conference!"

But Dorey stepped up to his desk. "I just read your press release and I think you're all a bunch of cowards. You don't deserve to run this store."

The other businesspeople murmured in protest. "You're entirely out of order!" Cole retorted.

"We've spent millions telling people we're the store that cares," Dorey went on. "What do we care about? Profit? Ourselves? What about one of our own, who needs us now? We sang his praises. We said he saved the company and our jobs and careers. Now we want to pretend we never knew him!"

"He's at Bellevue," Cole said. "He's crazy!"

Before Dorey could reply, Shellhammer spoke up. "Who but a madman would spend his life believing that every man, woman, and child on the face of the earth is worthy of his love and understanding?"

Dorey turned around in surprise. Shellhammer gave her a friendly but nervous wink.

Cole's angry expression was softening. "What can I do?" he asked. "The public thinks Kriss is out of his mind. They think he's dangerous."

"We have to change what they think," Dorey said. "If we stand with Kriss, if we challenge the rumors, if we force the truth, we'll win. We'll save Christmas for Cole's and for everybody. Kriss is going into court with the best attorney in the city—and he's going to prove that Kriss isn't crazy."

Dorey took a deep breath. Yes, she said it. And it was true. Bryan was the best.

"I may be thirty years old," she went on, "but today I believe in Santa Claus. How about you, Mr. Cole?"

Cole looked around the room. Everyone else was nodding.

He tapped his pencil and sat deep in thought. Finally, with a sigh, he said, "I'm sixty-three. I believe in him."

Dorey wanted to scream with joy. She glanced at Shellhammer, who was beaming.

Cole clapped his hands. "All right. Cole's stands with Kriss. Sit down and let's get to work."

The new Cole's commercial aired on the morning news. It was simple. Striking. First the Cole's logo, then the words
A Message From Our

Chairman
.

Next, Mr. Cole appeared on the screen.

"Today was the first time in seventy-five years that there has been no Santa Claus at Cole's," he said. "Why? Because he is about to go before a court of law where he must prove his identity or face detainment in a mental institution. Questionable circumstances and unknown motives have tarnished his reputation. We at Cole's don't believe the rumors. Cole's believes in Santa Claus. We will stand by him. He has done nothing but serve the children and families of New York City—and the world. We invite you to stand with us and ask yourself one simple question: Do
you
believe in Santa Claus? Thank you and Merry Christmas."

Immediately Cole's telephone switchboard lit up. Operators frantically took calls. One by one, the people of New York spoke up:

"I'm Anne Johnson, from the Upper West Side, and I believe."

"This is Mr. Rodriguez from East 63rd Street, and I believe."

The message appeared across New York City. On an electronic billboard in Times Square. In the windows of apartment houses. On trucks, tollbooths, restaurant windows, office buildings, movie marquees.

New York City was showing its colors true blue, for Kriss Kringle.

That Thursday, Kriss Kringle sat in the courtroom next to Bryan, trying to keep his hands from shaking. Curious spectators jammed the gallery seats behind him.

"You'll be fine," Bryan whispered. "All you have to do is tell the truth."

Kringle looked toward the prosecution table, where Collins was busily setting up. "Is there anything I should know about him?"

"He doesn't believe in Santa Claus," Bryan replied.

Moments later, Judge Harper emerged from a door behind the bench.

Collins hopped out of his seat. "In the matter of Kriss Kringle, Your Honor, the commitment papers are before you. If Your Honor please, I should like to call the first witness."

Judge Harper nodded.

"Mr. Kringle," Collins said, "will you please take the stand?"

Kriss Kringle smiled as he approached the witness stand. "Good morning, Judge," he said. "How's that grandson of yours?"

Judge Harper swallowed hard.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" the court bailiff asked Kringle.

"I do," Kringle answered.

"Before you begin, Mr. Collins," Judge Harper said, "I want to explain to the witness that this is a
hearing
, not a trial. Mr. Kringle, you do not have to answer any questions against your wishes, or even testify at all."

"We have no objections, Your Honor," Bryan said.

"What is your name?" Collins asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself." Kringle stood up and extended his hand to Collins. "I'm Mr. Kringle. Kriss Kringle."

Giggles rang out in the gallery.

Whack!
Judge Harper pounded his gavel. "Order!" he yelled.

"Where do you live, Mr. Kringle?" Collins asked.

"At the moment I'm at the Bellevue Hospital. It's very comfortable."

More giggles. Judge Harper slammed the gavel again.

"Mr. Kringle," Collins continued, "do you believe that you are Santa Claus?"

"Yes."

Collins looked surprised by the answer. "The state rests, Your Honor," he quickly said, walking back to his seat.

A low mumbling went through the gallery.

"Mr. Bedford, do you wish to cross-examine the witness?" Judge Harper asked.

"No further questions at this time," Bryan replied. He gave Kringle a nod.

"It was very nice seeing you again, Judge Harper," Kringle said as he went back to the defense table.

Judge Harper gave Bryan a sharp look. "In view of your client's statement, do you still intend to put in a defense?"

Bryan stood up. "I do, Your Honor. I should like to call my first witness."

He placed a thick telephone book on the witness chair.

A little girl slowly walked up to the stand and sat on the book. Kriss Kringle smiled. He remembered her well. She was the girl who had asked him for a Patty Pollywog.

"What's your name?" Bryan asked.

"Dorothy Lowry," the girl answered.

"Dorothy, what did you get for Christmas last year?" Bryan continued.

"Um . . . a dollhouse and—"

"Who gave you that dollhouse?"

"Him." Dorothy pointed to Kringle. "Santa Claus."

"How can you be
sure
he's Santa Claus?" Bryan asked.

"Because he looks like Santa Claus. And he's very nice."

Bryan pointed to Collins. "Could that man be Santa Claus?"

"Nope. Santa Claus don't got a bald head." The gallery burst out laughing.

WHACK!
"Order!" Judge Harper shouted.

Collins leaped to his feet. "This testimony is ridiculous. Mr. Bedford is making a mockery of this court. It hasn't been established that there is such a person as Santa Claus!"

"Your Honor" Bryan said, "I would ask Mr. Collins if he can offer any proof that there is no Santa Claus."

Collins stared at him. He gulped, then turned to the judge. "Your Honor, I would like to request a recess until tomorrow so that I might adequately prepare to meet Mr. Bedford's challenge."

"Does Mr. Bedford have any objections?" Judge Harper asked.

"No Your Honor," Bryan replied

"This court stands in recess," Judge Harper announced, "until nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

Grinning confidently, Bryan sat next to Kringle. "He bought it!" Bryan said. "I knew if I got him angry enough, he'd take the offensive. There's no way, in a court of law, we can prove that Santa Claus exists or that you are him."

"But haven't you given Mr. Collins an opportunity to prove that I
don't
exist?" Kringle asked.

"Exactly. And he'll go too far. Our best defense is to let Collins hang himself. But you have to promise me that you'll speak only when I tell you."

"You have my word," Kringle said.

"Good. I'll see you in the morning."

Bryan walked briskly out of the courtroom. His mind was tumbling. He thought about what he had said, what he should have said, what he would say.

But when he spotted Dorey Walker, standing by the front door, he was at a loss for words. He slowed down and gave her an uncertain smile.

"I wanted to thank you for doing this for Kriss," Dorey said. "I was in the gallery. I don't think you saw me. I don't understand your strategy, but I trust it'll work."

"I still have a long way to go," Bryan said. "But I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Dorey looked down. "Urn, about last week . . . I'm sorry I lost my temper."

"I said some things I shouldn't have," Bryan replied.

"No permanent damage." Dorey looked at her watch. "Well, I have to pick Susan up at school."

"Tell her hello from me," Bryan said.

"I will." Dorey tried another smile. "Thanks again. I suppose I'll see you around if this thing drags on."

"Okay."

Dorey left, waving to Bryan over her shoulder.

Bryan leaned against the door. He felt as if she'd taken a part of his heart with her.

Dorey was dead tired as she tucked Susan into bed that night.

"Is Kriss going to be okay?" Susan asked.

"I hope so," Dorey replied

"I hope he turns out to really be Santa Claus."

Dorey nodded. "So do I," she said softly.

"Then I'll get what I want for Christmas."

"Well, don't you worry about Kriss. He's going to be fine."

"Because Bryan's his lawyer?" Susan asked.

"That has a lot to do with it."

"Are you still mad at him?"

"I'm not mad at him, Susan."

"You like him again?"

Dorey thought about that a moment. Finally she said, "He's a very nice man. Now get to sleep."

Then she kissed Susan's grinning face good night.

Dr. Arthur Hunter droned on and on about Saint Nicholas. Hunter was a leading religious scholar, and Collins had called him to the witness stand.

Judge Harper listened with his head propped in his hands. There were a few snores in the gallery.

". . . His relics are enshrined in the basilica of Saint Nicola, Bari, Italy," Dr. Hunter said. "His legend is credited with a number of miracles, the best known dealing with saving children from tragedy."

"Miracles?" Collins blurted out. "Do you believe in miracles, Dr. Hunter? Extraordinary events in the physical world that are said to be caused by supernatural forces?"

"I can't say I believe in miracles as you frame the term," Dr. Hunter replied.

Collins paced the floor. "Dr. Hunter, is it not true that in 1969 the Church dropped Saint Nicholas's feast day from the calendar?"

"That's correct."

"In essence, the Church walked away from Saint Nicholas," Collins declared. "So would they not also walk away from the pop-culture figure based on him—Santa Claus?"

"I would presume so," Dr. Hunter said.

"No further questions," Collins announced.

Kriss Kringle seemed ready to burst. Bryan eyed him cautiously. He hoped Kringle would live up to his promise.

The next witness was Air Force Commander Charles Colson.

"Have you ever been to the North Pole?" Collins asked him.

"Yes sir," Commander Colson answered crisply. "In 1972 and again in 1984. I explored the region extensively."

"Did you ever come across any evidence of dwellings, animal pens, barns, workshops—any

settlement whatsoever?"

"None, sir."

"In your opinion, would it be possible in that region for an individual such as Mr. Kringle to
create
a settlement large enough to manufacture at least one toy for each of the earth's one-point-seven billion children?"

"No, sir."

Collins looked smugly at Kriss Kringle. "No further questions."

Kringle suddenly rose to his feet. "There isn't any way the gentleman could have seen my workshops," he shouted. "They're invisible!"

"Kriss? Sit down, please," Bryan hissed.

Kringle sat. "Mr. Collins is completely mistaken!" he said to Bryan. "My workshops don't exist in the physical world. They're in the dream world. I thought this was understood."

"
Let me be the lawyer
," Bryan insisted.

The courtroom doors swung open. In walked a man leading a reindeer.

A huge gasp went up from the gallery.

Judge Harper's jaw dropped. "Mr. Collins, what is the meaning of this?"

"This is a reindeer, Your Honor," Collins said. "I'd like the court to see if Mr. Kringle can make it fly."

"He's baiting you," Bryan whispered to Kringle. "He wants you to lose your temper. He wants you to act crazy. Remember that!"

Kriss Kringle stood up. He smiled calmly. "I'd love to oblige you, Mr. Collins, but I can't make the reindeer fly."

"I didn't think so," Collins said.

Bryan sighed with relief.

"They only fly on Christmas Eve," Kringle declared.

Laughter resounded in the gallery. Bryan cringed.

Collins's eyes lit up. "Of course." He turned triumphantly to the judge. "Your Honor, the state of New York does not want to destroy a colorful myth. But this hearing isn't about mythology. It's about the mental competency of a man who believes himself to be a myth. Every sensible person in this courtroom would have to conclude that Mr. Kringle is, regrettably, insane."