When Duncan made it to his feet, surprising no one more than himself, he didn’t rant or rave against Lou or Joseph or Santa Claus or Christmas in general. There was only one thing he kept saying over and over.

“Gordie,” he said. “We need to find Gordie.”

No one could argue that. Joseph did try to insist, though, that he sit down in the sleigh and have some of his coffee. Duncan had to wipe blood away from his mouth to keep it from mixing with the brew, but he had to admit, getting the influx of caffeine into his blood did help clear his mind a little.

“What happened there?” he asked Lou as the Spirit hovered back. Duncan had never seen him look so upset, so downtrodden.

“I’m sorry, it’s all my fault,” Lou said. “If I hadn’t failed with him in the first place…

“There’s no time to waste blaming anybody, Lou, even you. Where did he get that gun?”

“I don’t know! There aren’t any real guns here in Christmastown, just toy guns. He must have brought it over with him.”

“Great. I’m transposed to another plane of existence only to discover that airport security sucks everywhere in the known universe.”

Joseph helped the injured deer back up on its legs, petting his muzzle. “You’re going to be just fine, poor little Lightning. I promise ye.” Duncan thought it had only been shot in the leg or thigh, but once he was up and hoofing around, he could tell the wound was actually in the stomach.

“My God, how has this thing not bled to death?”

“I’ve got to keep reminding him,” Lou said, apologizing to Joseph. “Things don’t quite work the same here as they do on Earth. This poor thing is hurt, but he’ll make it.”

“He can’t be runnin’ any time soon, though,” Joseph said. “And the sleigh is too heavy for Thunder to pull all by his lonesome. I’m sorry, Duncan. I wish I could help ye give chase to that right bastard, but me and mine will just slow ye down.”

“It’s not your fault, Joseph,” Duncan said. “You’ve been a great help.”

“I may still be a bit more,” Joseph said. He fished in his sack and pulled out a slender box with green wrapping and a blue ribbon. It wasn’t much bigger than the tie boxes he usually got at Father’s Day. “This is something ye may need – something Josiah always wanted, but he never got.”

“You know what Josiah wanted for Christmas?”

“Santa’s helper, lad, remember.” Joseph placed the box in Duncan’s hands. He reached for the ribbon, but Joseph stopped him.

“Don’t open it yet, lad. Save it for when ye need it.”

“Why? What’s in here?”

“You’ll see when you open it.”

“Well how will I know when to open it if you don’t tell me what it is?”

“When the time comes, you’ll know.”

Duncan looked at Lou. “Why is he talking like that?”

“It’s the way things work around here.”

“I should have known.” Duncan took Joseph’s hand and shook it. “Thank you, Joseph, for everything.”

Joseph shook back and Duncan and Lou left him behind with the reindeer. “Will he be okay, Lou?”

“Of course he will, this is his home. And without us there, he’s not riding around with a target in his sleigh anymore.”

Duncan cleared his throat in a highly accusatory manor.

“Okay, okay, without me there, he’s not riding around with a target.”

“Forget it, there’s no time for me to blame you for everything. Is Josiah actually taking Gordie to the Winter Palace?”

“I guess he is. He knows that’s the way back to Earth. But it doesn’t work that way – he’s already blown his chance. He’s stuck here, even if he pushes Gordie through the portal first.”

“Then why is he even trying to use him this way?”

“Look, if he paid attention to the rules, he wouldn’t have gotten stuck here in the first place. That’s not really the problem here.”

“Tell me about it. We’ve got to catch up to that rotten son of a bitch.”

“That’s the real problem. I don’t know if we can catch up to him.”

“Why not? He’s tired and dragging a struggling eight-year-old behind him.”

“Yeah, but he’s cutting cross-country. He’s been wandering these woods for a long time, Duncan. He looped around us pretty easy. He knows how to move quickly.”

“I thought it took longer if you didn’t have Christmas in your heart.”

“Well yeah, if you stay on the path.”

Duncan rolled his eyes. “Well then why the hell don’t we cut cross-country too?”

“We don’t know the way.”

“Lou, I thought this was your turf!”

“Well… I mean… yeah, I know the folks around here, but whenever I come I’m schlepping a nasty old grouch – no offense – from the beginning of the path to the end. I don’t go through the woods.”

“Well what the hell am I supposed to do?” Duncan yelled. “If he knows a shortcut and has a head start, how can I get there any faster?”

“There’s only one way I can think of to speed things up,” Lou said.

“How? Come on, Lou, I’ll do anything.”

Lou smiled.

“You’re smiling, Lou. I don’t like it when you smile. What the hell are you thinking?”

“I told you, Duncan. The length of the path changes depending on--”

“Oh no. Oh no.”

“Oh yes. Sorry, Duncan, but if you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.”

Duncan cursed and kicked the lower branches of the nearest Christmas tree, sending a small ceramic polar bear ornament flying through the woods. He exhaled sharply, then cursed again.

“Fine, Lou. But I’m doing this for Gordie, not because you’ve done or said anything to convince me you’re not a giant load of crap.”

“Good enough for me, Duncan old boy.”

“Fine.” Duncan picked up the pace on his walk through the woods. “Hit me, Lou.” Then, with an angry grunt, he plead with the Spirit. “Teach me what Christmas is all about.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Lou would have welcomed such an attentive pupil, but even though Duncan was making the first genuine effort to understand what the season was about since they met, his mind wasn’t on kindness, goodwill or charity. It wasn’t even on Santa, snow or Christmas trees. It was on Gordie. And Lou couldn’t exactly blame him. The best he could come up with to help him start working through all this was to drill holiday cheer into him. Unfortunately, the Spirit of Christmas wasn’t exactly something that lent itself well to drilling.

“Okay, so when a little kid asks you if there’s really a Santa Claus, what do you tell him?”

“I say, ‘Of course there is. Santa is the warm, loving embodiment of the holiday season. A world without a Santa Claus would be as cold and empty as a world with no Insert Child’s Name Here’.”

“But say it like you mean it, Duncan. Now, how many reindeer does Santa have?”

“Eight.”

“What made Frosty the Snowman come to life?”

“His magic hat.”

“What’s the greatest movie ever made?”

“It’s a Wonderful Life. ”

“We also would have accepted Miracle on 34th Street. But only the original, not the remake.”

“Lou, do you really think that having me recite this stuff by rote is really going to open me up? Change my mind about anything?”

“It’s the best I can come up with. Well… at least at this stage in the path.”

“What do you mean, ‘at this stage’?”

“Further on down the road we’re going to encounter a few trials. They’ll be easier to overcome if you allow real Christmas spirit in your heart.”

“What sort of trials.”

“Um…”

“Wait, let me guess. You’re not allowed to tell me. It’s against the rules.”

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

Duncan frowned, turned up his collar and increased his pace.

“Smile, Duncan! You can’t enjoy Christmas with a big frown all over your face.”

“Ugh. I know, I know. I just can’t concentrate, okay?”

Lou drifted down to Duncan and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Let’s just keep walking for a little while. Maybe something will come to us.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

They kept walking, Duncan going as quickly as he could without completely wearing himself out – which wouldn’t do Gordie any good at all, he noted. He kept trying to think of Christmas – of trees and lights and holly, of everything Maureen and their son loved about the season, about everything that everybody else loved about the season, about his mother-in-law’s turkey dinners… anything that might put a smile on his face and help garner a little Yuletide appreciation. But he kept seeing Gordie underneath that tree, unwrapping the baseball glove Duncan had given him for Christmas last year. He saw Gordie eating the dinner, Gordie decorating the tree and turning on the lights and sitting on Santa’s knee to have his picture taken.

“Duncan?”

“What do you want, Lou?”

“Are you… crying?”

“No.” Duncan hoisted a shoulder and rolled his head, wiping his eyes on his coat. It was painfully ineffective, but doing any more would have required bringing his hands to his face, and that would have been as bad as an admission of tears. “I swear, if he hurts that kid…”

“I know, Duncan.”

There was a loud report from the woods ahead of them. Duncan wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it sounded too much like a gunshot for him to be comfortable with it. He and Lou shot each other a frustrated, hurried glimpse, then Duncan broke into a run. The sound, a bang that sent an icicle of fear down Duncan’s back, was repeated ahead of them, and they went even faster.

“Josiah?” Duncan shouted. “Damn it, if you’ve harmed a single hair on that boy’s head--”

The woods gave way to a large clearing just then, and Duncan ran into the back of a three-foot tall man with nice, pointy ears wearing clothing almost identical to Lou. He turned around and smiled at Duncan. “Well now, I may not approve of the language, friend, but I can promise you, I’ve harmed no one.”

“What… what are you?”

He chuckled, amused at the very question. “Well that’s the most obvious thing in the world, isn’t it? I’m an elf!”

“An elf. A real elf. A Santa Claus helping, toy making, sack toting, honest-to-God elf?”

“Close enough. Ezziel is the name.” He grinned and waved off to the clearing, and for the first time, Duncan realized the elf he’d collided with wasn’t alone. There were nearly a dozen in the clearing, coming in through the woods and gathering around a campfire that cast them all in a nice, warm glow. The sun was setting in the distance, and the orange of the sunlight mixed with the orange of the firelight, giving the whole scene a slightly unearthly quality. There was another bang! and Duncan realized the elves were setting off brilliant fireworks by tossing them into the fire and letting them blast into the air.

“Elves,” Duncan said. “I can’t believe it, I’m sitting here surrounded by elves.”

“How can you still be surprised by anything?” Lou asked.

“You’re welcome to sit with us and warm your bones a while, stranger,” Ezziel said. “Hey – hey, Rungizel! Your glamour!”

He was shouting at another figure that had just stepped out of the woods – a tall man with long, flowing silver hair, thin but not unhealthy, and an ageless face with ancient eyes. He looked down at himself and giggled.

“I forgot,” he said, clutching a small amulet around his neck. When he touched it, his form suddenly shrank and melted into a body just like all the other elves gathering about the fire.

“That’s what we really look like you know,” Ezziel told Duncan. “We’re actually quite a tall race. I still haven’t figured out how you mortals started to imagine us as tiny creatures, but if we’re to maintain the belief, we have to give them what they expect, don’t they?”

“Yeah… I guess so,” Duncan said absently. He wasn’t paying much attention to Ezziel, he was still staring at the conclave of elves gathering before his eyes.

“Duncan,” Lou said, nudging him gently. “Duncan, snap out of it.”

He turned, slowly and looked at his companion. “Lou, those are elves.”

“He’s a quick one, isn’t he Lou?” Ezziel asked.

“Lou, those are elves that know you.”

“He’s fine,” Lou said. “Just a little star-struck. You see, he never believed in you guys before.”

“Ooooh,” Ezziel said. “One of those. Well, come on son. Sit by the fire – we’ll have food and drink, you can get your strength back.”

“I can’t,” Duncan said. “I can’t stay – my son has been taken. I’ve got to get him back.”

“It was Josiah,” Lou said, shamefully. “It’s all my fault. He took Duncan’s son and he’s trying to use him to get through to portal back to his Earth.”

“He’s doing what?” Ezziel said. “That’s not going to work!”

“Don’t I know it.”

Ezziel patted Duncan’s shoulder. “It will turn out, son. I can see in your face – you may not be a big fan of the season – if you were, you wouldn’t be here – but you love your son. Take a seat. Rest. You’ll get along much better on soothed feet and a clear mind.”

“I shouldn’t,” Duncan said. “I really don’t think… or… or should I?” These were elves. These were actual elves. Maybe they could drill something into him and get him there faster. “Lou, should I?”

“Up to you, Duncan,” Lou said. “I’m just a guide here. In the end, it all comes down to you.”

“Okay, Ezziel. I’d be honored to rest with you for a spell. But not too long.”

“It won’t take too long, my boy. Here. Pull up a log.”

Duncan sat next to Ezziel and Lou floated down to the log next to him. The fire was nice and warm, and for the first time in days, Duncan could feel the gunk in his nose starting to thaw out. One of the elves handed him a big earthenware mug full of a yellow liquid with a pungent, spicy aroma. “What’s this?”

“Wassail,” Ezziel said, taking a sip of his own.

“Wassail? That’s a noun? I thought that meant to go around singing Christmas Carols.”

“People used to drink Wassail while they did it. It’s boiled fruit juices and spices – taste it.”

Duncan raised the mug to his lips and tipped in as much as he could without scorching his tongue. The moment it washed over his taste buds, his eyes blew wide open in shock. It was fantastic. He wasn’t entirely sure what was in the mixture, but he thought he could taste traces of oranges and pineapple, and there was most definitely some cinnamon in the punch. Suddenly he felt wide awake, energized, and ready to run another hundred miles to track down Josiah. Even his sinuses, stuffed up and frozen this whole time, were suddenly clear and breezy.

“Wow,” he said. “Forget the coffee, can I get a thermos full of this stuff?”

Ezziel laughed. “You like it then, mortal man?”

“I do, I do.” Duncan took a much longer draught, savoring the flavor and letting the punch warm him throughout. As he was drinking, another elf presented him with an enormous turkey leg, which he gratefully bit into. As he ate and drank, he listened to the elves tell their stories to one another. There were stories about Christmases long ago, about mortals they’d befriended who subsequently died (as those pesky mortals had a tendency to do), about worlds and creatures far beyond Duncan’s comprehension, but no less mesmerizing to him. Lou joined in with telling the stories, and on occasion, one of their new companions actually told some stories about him.

“And then the little imp actually stole the doll’s breeches!” laughed an elf that identified himself as Trustiem. “He was just trying to torment me, but it gave me an idea. You get more toys if you make separate clothes for the dolls and let the little girls dress ‘em up any way they want.”

Duncan looked over at Lou. “You invented Barbie Dolls?”

Lou took a big bite of turkey leg. “So much you don’t know about me, Duncan ol’ buddy.” He flashed his brilliant smile at the pack of elves. “Say, how’s the family anyway, Trustiem?”

“Oh, fine. My wife is still a tad upset at our son, but eventually she’ll learn to accept him choosing a life of dentistry.”

Lou snapped his mouth shut.

“You guys are something else,” Duncan said with a chuckle

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lou whispered. “Duncan, what was that sound?”

“What sound?”

“It sounded like you actually laughed.”

“Hey, I laugh.”

“First time for everything, huh?”

Duncan stuck his tongue out at the spirit and rose to his feet. “Guys, it’s been great, really, but I’ve got get going. I don’t want Josiah to get any further down the road.”

“Feeling any more Christmasy yet, Duncan?” Ezziel asked.

“I don’t know about that,” Duncan said. “But hey, I think you fells are a blast.”

Rungizel nodded. “It’s a start.”

Duncan picked up his thermos and headed back down the road. When he unscrewed the lid an hour later, he would find it full of steaming Wassail instead of the coffee he’d had since he left the Infinity Bar and Grille. As he walked away, Lou zipped back, executed a dandy triple spin in midair and gave the elves a big thumbs-up.

“Thanks guys,” he said. “I’ll crack him yet.”

As Duncan was sharing a turkey leg or two with a group of elves, Gordie and Josiah stopped for a rest of their own. Josiah nibbled on some cheese and crackers he’d stolen somewhere along the line. He offered Gordie none of it, but the boy managed to sneak a few gulps of the hot chocolate from the thermos he kept hidden beneath his coat and the warmth and nourishment was far more than his captor was getting from his own measly munchings.

“This isn’t the way to do it, you know,” Gordie said.

“What are you talking about, you little runt?”

“All of this. Christmastown is about teaching people. Learning how to love Christmas. You’re not loving anything this way.”

“I don’t give a damn about you and your Christmas,” Josiah spat, “And I never asked to come to your Christmastown. Lou hijacked me just like he did your daddy, little boy, and if I get to use you to get me home, then I really don’t care if he gets to spend the next half-decade walking around these damn woods like I did.”

“Come on, how can you be upset here?” Gordie asked. “It’s Christmas here all the time!”

Josiah growled. “Why do you think I’m so upset here? I don’t even like Christmas for one month out of the year. I’ve had to look at these damn trees every day for five years! Have you ever tried to spend five years looking at decorations every day? Listening to the same stupid Christmas music? Finding nothing to eat but cookies and cheese and egg nog?”

“I’m only eight,” Gordie said. “I don’t even remember five years ago.”

“Consider yourself lucky, brat. If things are as lousy there as they were five years ago, at least you haven’t had to deal with it as long.”

“If things are so lousy back on Earth, why are you so anxious to get back?”

“Shut up.”

Josiah told Gordie to get to his feet, pointed him in the direction of the Winter Palace, and gave him a swift kick in the butt to spur him on. “Keep walking, rodent.”

“I’m walking, I’m walking.” Gordie said. “But I’m telling you, you’re never making it back to Earth this way.”

“Oh, I suppose you know everything.”

“I know the Winter Palace is in that direction,” Gordie said, pointing back over his shoulder.

Josiah looked back in the direction he pointed, then grabbed Gordie around the collar, turning him around so he was facing the other way.

“I said walk and shut up,” he grumped.

Duncan definitely had a quicker step than before as he started to bounce down the road. Lou almost had trouble keeping up, in fact, but quickly managed to pull ahead of him, his trail of sparkles glittering through the darkened woods. Duncan’s snowflake kept the path well-lit for them, and it seemed they put more miles behind them in the next few hours than in the entire time they’d been in Christmastown. Duncan couldn’t tell if he was just walking faster or if his brief time with the elves had been enough to open him up a little and shorten the distance. He still got irritated at the proliferation of trees, but not enough to start kicking away ornaments again. He wondered if it was just a coincidence that he was seeing more and more ornaments shaped like the elves.

Lou would occasionally arc up into the air to try to catch a glimpse of Josiah and Gordie in the woods, but thus far, he’d had no success at all. Once in a while he would see something else to catch his eye – he’d “ooh” and “ah” and once even let out a “Jiminy Crickets,” but when Duncan would ask what he saw, he just smiled again and invoked the rules that said he wasn’t allowed to divulge such information.

“You know, maybe if I knew what was coming up I’d be better prepared,” Duncan said. “Has that ever occurred to you?”

“Hmm,” Lou said. “That’s really a very good try, Duncan.”

“I know – I’m getting better at this, don’t you think?”

Duncan took another sip of Wassail just as the path through the woods crested a hill. The sun was rising again, shedding light on the figures racing around in the snow. He heard a few voices shouting and cheering, and when the people came into view, he was even more stunned than by the gathering of elves. At the top of the hill was a group of about six snowmen, carefully sculpted, meticulously crafted, and all of them walking around and talking to one another. The snowmen were using their own bodies as makeshift sleds and sliding down the hill at breakneck speeds, high-fiving each other at the bottom with hands made of tree branches, then marking back up to the top to do it over again.

The biggest of them, maybe six and a half feet tall, dove off the top of the hill and raced to the bottom, throwing up a shower of snow behind himself. “Yeeeeeee-haaaaaaaa!” he cried on the way down. “YEEEE-HAAAA! BLIZZARD BOYS RULE! ”

“Blizzard Boys?” Duncan asked.

“Fastest bunch of snow bunnies in Christmas town,” Lou said. “Want to meet them?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve even got a choice about this one.”

“You’re learning.” Lou gave Duncan and wink and then spun towards the Blizzard Boys. “Hey, fellas! How are you?”

“Is that Lou?” One of them asked.

“It is!”

“Lou!”

“Louie Louie!”

“Woooot!”

The three Blizzard Boys at the top of the hill high-fived each other, sending a minor flurry of snowflakes drifting away on the impact, and ran over to Lou, extending their twig-arms for a high-five from him as well.

“How’ve you been, dude?” asked the tallest one, with a black silk top hat perched jauntily on his head. His carrot-nose was the longest of the boys, and his eyes were of the deepest charcoal Duncan had ever seen.

“I’m here to help my man Duncan here find his son,” Lou said. “Josiah made off with him.”

“Oooooh.”

“Josiah.”

“Bad dude.”

“Ugly too.”

“And that smell…”

The snowmen laughed heartily at that, and they extended their hands to Duncan to shake. He’d have to work his way up to a high-five, he assumed. The snowmen all smiled, a process made difficult by the fact that their mouths were just gouges carved into their snowball heads, but somehow still perfectly articulate. Lou explained the situation to them in detail, and by the time the story was done the rest of the Blizzard Boys had rejoined them at the top of the hill. All six of the living snowmen looked very concerned, very determined to be the first to suggest a way to pound Josiah into slush, but at the same time, not a one of them had stopped smiling.

“You guys are pretty joyful, aren’t you?” Duncan asked.

“Dude, fear not,” one of the Blizzards told him.

“Because you guys are going to help me rescue my son and get home?”

“Because that’s our motto,” the Blizzard said. “But your reason is good too.”

“What can we do, Lou-Dude?”

“I’ve got a couple of ideas. How do you guys feel about kicking up a little powder?”

The Blizzards looked at each other, and there was no mistaking the glee on their snowball faces.

“ROCK ON!” they cheered. The biggest Blizzard pointed to three of the others. “Okay, dudes, you know the drill.”

“We’re on it!” one of them chirped. The three snowmen raced to the lip of the hill, then leapt into the air. They came down on their bellies, gliding down the hill at remarkable speed, cheering and howling the whole way down. When they hit the bottom they kept going, missing every tree along the way, then arched up onto the next incline in the distance. As they went up the hill they got even faster, and Duncan could see a trail of snow spraying into the air from each of them. When they crested the next hill, their snowy bodies exploded into the air, turning into a trio of spinning tornados of snow. The three of them whirled away into the distance and soon were out of sight.

“Well,” Duncan said, “I’ve got to admit, that was fairly impressive. But what exactly are they doing?”

“They’re cutting ahead to slow Josiah down,” Lou said. “If there’s one thing you don’t want to do if you’re trying to get through the Christmastown forest in a hurry, it’s get the Blizzard Boys on your bad side.”

The wind was starting to kick up and slice into Josiah’s face, but Gordie, somehow, didn’t seem to have any problem with it. It grew colder and colder, much faster than most changes in weather could legitimately take place.

“What in the bloody hell is going on?” Josiah roared.

“What are you talking about?” Gordie asked. From his vantage point lower to the round he could see that there was a lot more snow in the air than had been a few minutes ago, but the increased wind was whipping about over his head. He barely felt even a breeze, but above him, Josiah was staggering in the wind, covering his face against the biting snow. He was freezing straight through to his gums, which hurt enough already, as he hadn’t seen a toothbrush in five years.

“Are you okay?” Gordie asked.

“I’m fine!” he insisted. “Keep walking!”

Gordie kept tromping through the snow, trying to amuse himself by imagining his footprints as being a series of enormous, snow-filled valleys there for the amusement of a tribe of bugs. He didn’t realize, of course, that once he and Josiah were gone those very footprints would, in fact, become a snowy slope for a family of ladybugs that was making camp for the perpetual winter. The mother ladybug would bundle her children up tightly, placing red stocking caps on their heads at nice, jaunty angles, and they would slide down the snow on their backs, giggling much louder than any normal bug would ever sound. Gordie would have been amazed by the phenomenon had he been able to witness it. Lou, on the other hand, would have just shrugged and informed him, “that’s how things work around here.” Josiah would have stepped on them.

The fierce, cutting winds were slowing Josiah’s progress down to a crawl, and the firm hand he kept on Gordie’s shoulder slowed him down in turn. Under other circumstances the slow progression would be tremendously annoying to Gordie – he was an innately hyper child, and if his mother even paused walking through the mall to stare at a display in a window Gordie was already three shops down wondering what was taking her so long. When he began to grow irritated that Josiah was going so slowly, though, he reminded himself that his father and Lou were looking for him, and any slowdown could only help them.

“What is that damn music?” Josiah howled.

“What music?” Gordie asked, but he was just starting to hear it too. It was the wind, whistling through his ears, chirping out a very familiar tune.

“With a corn cob pipe and a button nose…” Gordie sang along.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Damn right it’s nothing.” Josiah kicked at Gordie’s backside again, but this time he missed and the winds shoved him off his feet into the snow. Somehow, the winds kept pounding his face even as he lay on the ground.

“I freaking hate Christmas,” he moaned.

Duncan and Lou were making excellent time now, straddled on the back of the largest of the Blizzard Boys and gliding through the snow. It was at the same time like being on a sled and being on the greatest roller coaster in the world, and despite himself, Duncan could be heard squealing with delight and throwing his hands up in the air. Lou was clutching the back of his coat, holding on for dear life, and shouting along with them as they flew through the snow. Even the Blizzard Boy was howling, and enjoying himself the whole time.

“Enjoying it, dude?”

“Wooo!” Duncan replied.

Finally, the snowman skidded to a halt, sending a spray of snow a good twenty feet into the air. It came back down on them in a light snowfall. It was the purest, most cleansing snow Duncan had ever felt.

“That was great!” he shouted. “Oh, wow, when we get Gordie back you have got to take him for a slide.”

“You’re confidant we’re gonna get the kid back, duder,” the snowman said. “I like that.”

“You guys help.” Duncan high-fived the snowman, who spun around on its snowball torso and waited for another slap from behind, which Duncan joyfully supplied.

“You’re starting to like Christmas, aren’t you Duncan?” Lou asked.

“Well… I like snowmen.”

“Dude, call me Frostbite.”

“Your name is Frostbite?”

“Naw, that’s just what they call me. I got the nickname because of my dad. You’ve probably heard of him.”

“Yeah, I probably have,” Duncan agreed. “So how far did we go on that glide?”

“Hard to say for sure,” Frostbite said. “You see--”

“I know, I know, reality is elastic here.”

“Getting a little less elastic,” Lou said.

“Well don’t worry, bro, with my boys pounding down the winds on Josiah, he could be on the front porch of the Winter Palace and not make it in before we catch up to him.” He pointed through a gap in the trees, and there was a hilltop with the Winter Palace gleaming at the top. It was clearly enormous from this vantage point, and Duncan couldn’t help but smile. Part of him had never really believed he would make it this close to the Palace, no matter how much help Lou and his frozen pals threw his way.

“I can’t believe we’re so close,” he said. “Are you sure that Josiah hasn’t made it here already?”

Frostbite cocked his head into the wind, listening to the whispers of the breeze. He didn’t have any ears, but if he had, it would have been quite easy for Duncan to imagine the wind speaking directly in them.

“My boys say they’ve got him pinned down,” Frostbite said. “He’s not much closer than we are.”

“Excellent. Let’s get a move on.”

The three of them began to stamp through the snow, only Duncan leaving any tracks out of the trio. Lou was flying, of course, and as Frostbite walked through the snow, it was almost as if he just glided along, a wave of snow being pushed through like a tsunami coasting across the ocean. He was a part of the blanket of white on the floor, and in a way, Duncan supposed, part of the snowfall across the entire forest.

“Okay then,” Duncan said. “I don’t even know what day it is anymore, but we’ve got to get moving. That ugly S.O.B. isn’t going to beat us to the Palace.”

“Dude, I don’t know why you had to bring this guy here in the first place,” Frostbite said to Lou. “I love Duncan’s ‘tude.”

“Well, this is more an appreciation for extreme sports and an enthusiasm for my son than it is me getting into Christmas,” Duncan said.

“Yeah, but you’re enjoying yourself. You’re having fun.”

“I didn’t think that’s what Christmas was all about.”

“It’s how it has to start sometimes,” Lou said. Duncan just nodded and started walking down the path again – they couldn’t start “sledding” again until they hit the top of an incline, but they could still walk. Frostbite held back, though, and tapped Lou on the shoulder.

“Louie, dude, you didn’t plan all of this, did you?”

“I wish,” Lou said. “This is much better than buying his wife jewelry.”

There were still a few miles to go before they got to the base of the mountain where the Winter Palace stood, but the fact that it already loomed so powerfully in their view just went to accentuate how big the palace actually was. As Duncan crested the next hill, he could see straight through to the base of the mountain, and the little village there at the bottom.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Christmastown,” Lou said. “The ‘town’ part. It’s where most of the people here live.”

“Really? Well then, let’s go pay a visit.”

They marched on down the path straight to the town, and for the first time, the aroma of the pine needles in his lungs perked Duncan up. Gordie, he thought. Gordie loves this smell. If he can still smell it, he’s not scared.

“You’ve got a real spring in your step there, Duncan,” Lou said.

“That’s because my son is nearby, Lou,” Duncan said. “I can feel him here. And we’re going to find him and go home.”

“A little wiser than when you left?” Frostbite asked.

“You betcha.” Duncan took a hit of his wassail. “I’m definitely going to start building snowmen again.”

“Where did you go, you little rodent?” Josiah shouted. He was still pinned down by the wind, still trying to pry his eyes open so he could see through the snow. Any time he managed to peek just a little, the wind kicked up again, shutting his eyes. He hadn’t been able to move for long minutes, but even blinded, he kept his iron grip on Gordie’s coat.

Kneeling in the snow, Gordie was amazed by what he was seeing now. The wind was actively avoiding him, whipping at them at incredible speed and then parting around his body, coming back together to bombard Josiah. Gordie had heard people curse a lot before, but this was definitely the first time he heard someone cursing so loudly at the air.

“Stay where you are, boy!” he shouted. “Don’t you go running off! I’ll snap your neck, I swear I will.”

“Sure you will,” Gordie muttered. He looked up into the split in the wind, and through the air he could see clear as glass out of the forest. Through the break in the trees, he saw the Winter Palace. It was enormous, majestic… and it was right there.

It was where his father was going. And even if Duncan didn’t believe in it, Gordie believed in him. He would be there soon, waiting for him. He had to make it.

A strong burst of wind blasted Josiah in the face, driving him backwards, and he yanked hard on Gordie’s jacket, pulling him back from his knees. Sprawled out in the snow, Gordie grabbed for the buttons of his jacket, loosing them one at a time. Josiah kept jerking around, pulling on the coat, but Gordie ignored him, instead focusing on the buttons. Finally, he popped open the last one, then started to wiggle his arms.

“What are you doing, boy?” Josiah shouted. “Don’t you piss me off! I swear, I’ll snap you in half!”

“You’ve gotta catch me first!” Gordie cheered. With a leap, he pulled himself free of the jacket and flew forward into the snow. Again, the snow-filled winds curved around him, clearing the path for him while keeping Josiah on the ground. He broke into a run as soon as he made it to his feet, charging forward into the wind without fear, headed straight for the Palace. In seconds, he had vanished into the trees.

“Boy!” Josiah screamed. “Boy, get back here!”

Fighting against the winds, Josiah propped himself up on his elbows, then rolled forward until he was lying on his face instead of his back. With eyes blazing enough to melt the snow, he began to inch forward through the wind. He kept himself as close to the ground as he could, cutting a swath through the power as he followed Gordie’s footprints.

“Get back here, boy!” he shouted. “Get back here or I swear, I’ll kill you!”

As Duncan and the others wandered into the town, they saw a sleigh approaching. For a second, Duncan grinned. “Is that Joseph?” he asked. “Did he make it here?”

“Naw, not Joseph,” Lou said. “Look closer.”

As the sleigh passed them up, Duncan saw that it was being pulled by a pathetic-looking dog with a branch tied to his head, struggling to lug the enormous sled laden with a sack so big that it made Joseph’s look like a bag lunch. Cracking the rains was an ugly little man in a Santa Claus suit, covered with hair the color of mold. He kept shouting at the dog, and to make it even more annoying, he insisted on talking in rhyme.

“Wait a second,” Duncan said. “Is that…”

“Yep,” Frostbite said. “The jerk-ass pulls this stunt every year.”

“Well shouldn’t we try to stop him?”

Lou looked taken aback. “Why Duncan, how Christmasy of you.”

“Don’t worry about it, dude. Same thing happens every time. He steals everything, the town doesn’t get all weepy about it, heart swells up three sizes and breaks the little measuring device, blah blah blah. Never ending cycle.”

“Great animation, though,” Lou said.

They kept walking, and as they got into the heart of the town Duncan recognized many of the people he’d seen picking their trees out at the lot – the bald, yellow guy, the giant mouse, the frog, the series of Dickensian waifs… They were everywhere, walking in and out of an eclectic mixture of houses. Suburban ranch styles sat right next to massive apartment buildings next to run-down shacks with a tiny pigeon-sized turkey roasting in the fireplace.

“Good grief, it took us days to get here from the Christmas tree lot! How the heck did they all make it back so fast?”

“They had Christmas in their hearts,” Lou said. “For them it was like walking down the block.”

Interspersed with the houses, Duncan quickly noticed, were a series of shops. A bookstore, a haberdasher, a coffee shop… some joker had even sandwiched a baker between a butcher and a candlestick maker. There were snow-covered London counting-houses right down the block from a big box electronics store, and on the other side of that was a rustic toy shop specializing in wooden soldiers and dolls that actually closed their eyes when they lay down.

“Look at all this!”

“Well, people are starting their Christmas shopping, dude,” Frostbite said. “Have you gotten yours done yet? I’m giving my old lady some kick-ass ice.”

“Snow women wear diamonds?”

“No, my little fleshy friend, real ice. Carved the ring out of it myself.”

“Silly me.”

“How about you?”

“Um… I haven’t gotten my ‘old lady’ anything yet.”

“You’ve still got that jewelry I scrounged up for you, Duncan,” Lou said.

“Yeah, but it seems like I should get her something from…”

“From where?

“From… me.”

Frostbite shot a smile at Lou. “By jove, I think he’s got it, duder.”

“It’s not like I’m looking forward to shopping,” Duncan said. He remembered the major shopping expedition with Maureen last year. They’d been in the department store, having tucked Gordie safely away at a friend’s house, to scrounge up the toys he’d begged for since the Thanksgiving commercial onslaught. After two hours in the toy department battling increasingly rabid parents for the same four action figures, he was ready to go, but Maureen was just getting started.

“Well, we can’t give him the presents naked, can we?” she said as they delved into the Christmas wrapping paper. She dismissed the first half of the aisle because the rolls weren’t “thick enough,” then when she found a batch that were 90 square feet, she started pulling out one roll after another, contrasting nativity scenes with reindeers with trees with candy canes. Duncan had decided to examine the laces of his shoes.

“Which of these do you like better?” Maureen asked.

“The Santa Claus,” he said, taking a shot.

“They both have Santa Claus on them.”

“Then what’s the difference?”

“One’s red and one is green.”

“Um… green?”

She thought for another 45 seconds, then slid the red paper into the shopping cart. She then began an intense dissertation on the difference between two rolls of wrap that featured virtually indistinguishable snowmen.

“Hey, Lou,” Duncan asked, “does it violate any regulations about the Spirit of Christmas if I get Maureen’s presents wrapped in the store?”

“Naw, the Big Guy does that for Mrs. Claus every year.”

Lou and Duncan walked into the next toy store on the block. Frostbite decided to wait outside – they always kept those places too warm for him, he said. The store was packed to the gills with more toys than Duncan had ever seen, and hundreds he’d never even imagined. There were toys that looked like simple rubber balls with a camera lens attached. As a tot in a red and blue jumpsuit picked one up, it projected an image of a hairy purple beast on the wall, making the child giggle in delight. Another boy, one with green skin and blonde hair, was staring into the screen of a computer system that would have put the Pentagon to shame, but that he was regarding as thought it were a pocket calculator. A little girl who looked perfectly normal to Duncan found herself mesmerized by dollies that walked and talked and then suddenly broke into a perfectly choreographed Broadway dance number. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought the song was from Rent.

“Hey, what’s this?” He picked up a red box from a shelf. It was a simple box, with a snowflake pattern, and in big gold letters it read, “ULTIMATE ACTION FIGURE.”

Lou peeked over his shoulder. “It’s the Ultimate Action Figure, apparently.”

“Yeah, I got that, but what is it?”

“Beats me. Joseph is the toymaker around here.”

Duncan waved over the store’s clerk. “Excuse me, what’s in this box?”

“The Ultimate Action Figure,” she said.

Everyone’s a comedian, he thought. “Yeah, but what’s in the box. What is the Ultimate Action Figure?”

“Beats me. It’s a big marketing ploy – they haven’t announced what the toy is, and the box won’t open until Christmas..”

“I wonder if Gordie would like something like this,” Duncan said.

“We take all major credit cards,” the clerk said, cheerfully waving at her scanner.

“Amazing,” Duncan said, taking out his wallet. “American Express even made it here.”

Just as he was paying for the toy, the door to the shop burst open and Frostbite came rambling in. He wasn’t quite as swift over wall-to-wall carpeting as he was over snow, Duncan noted.

“Dudes! Quick! We got trouble!”

“What’s wrong?”

“My boys just reported in. They had Josiah pinned down, but he managed to crawl into trees too thick for ‘em to keep pounding him. And Gordie escaped!”

“Escaped? Where did he go?”

“They said he was making his way to the Winter Palace.”

“And so will Josiah,” Duncan said. “Come on, guys.” He grabbed the toy and tucked it under his arm. As soon as he was out of the store, he broke into a run.

“Where did they go?” Duncan asked. “Which way are they?”

“My boys lost him,” Frostbite said, “But they tell me he was headed for the Winter Palace, and so was Josiah.”

“Then we get up there as fast as we can,” Duncan said. The very path he had followed since arriving in Christmastown cut right through the town, leading to the base of the mountain and then winding up. Duncan had never gone rock climbing, had never used rappelling equipment (which was a moot point since they had none anyway), but didn’t hesitate to begin racing up the steep cliff. Lou kept up with him very easily, but Frostbite had trouble any time they reached a part of the mountain that was covered in rock instead of snow.

“Don’t wait for me, dudes,” he shouted. “I’ll still beat all of you up there!”

Duncan couldn’t help but smile at the snowman’s spirit, but didn’t lose a step in leaving him behind. It was faster, running on the gravel instead of the snow, but it was harder on the feet and legs too, and they began to wear. After circling the mountain once, he popped the lid of his thermos and took a long draught of the still piping-hot Wassail. As he stopped, he looked down the mountain and noticed that there was a path directly below that he hadn’t run. He recognized his own path below it – there was a second path running up the mountain. And as he realized it, a pebble struck him on the head. He looked up and saw someone moving on the higher path above him.

“Lou, is that Gordie or Josiah?”

Lou zipped up the mountain and shouted back down, “It’s Josiah, Duncan! I don’t see Gordie anywhere!”

While he shouted down, a stone flew through the air and cracked the Spirit on the head. He shouted and fell down the side of the mountain. Duncan leaned out over the lip of the path and managed to just catch him by the arm, pulling him back onto the ground.

“Lou! Lou, buddy, are you all right?”

Lou cracked his eye open, and cracked a smile.

“Duncan, that’s the first time you called me ‘buddy’.”

Duncan gave Lou a wry grin and a sip of the Wassail. “Don’t read too much into it. Are you okay to fly?”

“Sure, I’m--” He tried to lift off, but wobbled so badly in the air that he smashed right into the face of the mountain.

“Yeah, you’re just peachy,” Duncan said. He picked up the spirit, turned up the mountain and carried him as he ran.

The run wasn’t easy, and was made even more difficult by the things they encountered on the way. In fact, the mountain seemed to be specifically designed as an obstacle course. Above Duncan, he saw a pair of children standing beneath a tree on the edge of the path (the only tree he’d seen since charging up the mountain). The children were wearing tatters, staring up in the tree where a cat was sitting on a branch, meowing.

“Mister, help!”

“Wait!”

“Our kitty is trapped up there!”

Dammit, Duncan thought, but he put Lou down on the path and climbed right up into the tree like a monkey. The cat was perched at one of the uppermost branches, nestled between a big blue glass ball and a candy cane, nibbling on a string of popcorn. It was a plump little tabby, and a green stocking cap was tied to his head.

“Aw, you poor little guy,” Duncan said. “When will people learn not to force animals to wear clothes?”

He coaxed the kitten into his arms and shimmied down the tree, where the children were waiting and cheering.

“Snowflake!”

“You got him!”

“Snowflake?” Duncan asked. Yeah, Spirit of Christmas and all that, but he maintained that “Snowflake” would be a better name for a white cat.

“He’s just fine, kids,” Duncan said, handing the cat to the little girl.

“Oh thank you – the other man wouldn’t help at all.”

“Other man?” Duncan asked, knowing full well what they were going to say.

“He was running on the path above us,” the boy explained. “We yelled at him and asked him to come down and get Snowflake, but he just ignored us.”

“Let me guess – ugly, dirty guy? Wearing a top hat?”

“Yeah!”

“Do you know him?”

“Oh, we’re well acquainted,” Duncan said. He picked Lou up into his hands and started down the path again. “You guys keep a closer eye on the cat, okay? I may not have time to get him down again.”

He winked at them and resumed his charge up the mountain. Lou, getting more coherent by the moment, was smiling at him.

“It’s still a test, isn’t it?” Duncan asked. “Even here, running up the mountain to save my son, I’m still being tested.”

“We’re all being tested, every second of every day,” Lou said.

“Yeah, but I’m being tested by you and your Christmas ilk, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

Josiah didn’t have the time to deal with a couple of mewling kids or their stupid mewling cat. He didn’t know how far ahead the brat had gotten before he managed to get out of those strange winds, but he knew it was more than he was comfortable with. He had the advantage though. He’d made this run before, the first time he ever made it to the foot of the mountain. When he made it to the top, though, he was denied entry through the blue crystal gates of the Winter Palace. There was a guard standing outside of the Palace, a pair of eight-foot wooden soldiers painted up like English Beefeaters. The moment he’d gotten even close to the gates, their guns (painted wood, he could tell, but still quite effective as a club) fell down, crossing each other in front of the gates.

“NO ENTRY!” one of them shouted.

“Hey, I was here with a little elf fella, he said this is where I had to go!”

“NO ENTRY!” the other one reiterated.

“YOUR WINDOW OF ESCAPE HAS PASSED, MORTAL!” said the first.

“Oh, the hell it has!” Josiah had tried to force his way past them. He tried to push them over, but they were as steadfast as if their wooden legs extended deep into the ground. He got a bunch of rocks to hurl at them, but they just bounced off, not even splintering their wooden toy guns. He’d even gone down into town, obtained some firelighters and marched back up the mountain, trying to set them ablaze. Any time he could create so much as a spark, the winds kicked up and blew his lighter out. And the whole time, through his entire task, the soldiers just kept screaming, “NO ENTRY! NO ENTRY!”

“Oh, bite me,” Josiah finally said, marching down the mountain. He hadn’t been back to the mountain since, but every time he looked up at that mountain,, he bristled with rage and imagined burning down the guards, melting the gates and storming the Palace. When he’d found the boy, he knew he had a way in. Even if they wouldn’t let him enter, there was no way they’d deny access to a child so sweet, so innocent, so nauseating.

Until, of course, the little runt got away.

He was halfway up the mountain when his foot skidded on the edge of the path. He regained his footing quickly, but was surprised when he heard an “ouch!” well up from beneath him. He was about to risk leaning over and peering down the mountain when that stupid little sprite Lou came zipping up straight into his face.

“You again!” Lou shouted, reaching for the nearest rock. He cocked his arm back and hurled it at the Spirit, nailing Lou right in the head. He and the rock both fell like… well… rocks.

“And let that be a lesson to you,” Josiah said, smiling. He looked down expecting to watch his victim make a nice, satisfying splat on the ground. Instead, though, he saw the man, Duncan, catch him neatly in his arms, almost as if he liked the little bastard.

“Oh, so it’s you,” Josiah grumbled to himself. “Not my fault if you can’t keep track of your kid.” He laughed and turned on the mountain, running, running again, always running, always getting closer to the top.

Lou finally managed to get back on his wings (so to speak), and although Duncan offered to continue carrying the Spirit, Lou knew they’d move faster if he was in the air instead of in his arms. He rolled out of his hands and they continued the spiral race up the mountain. As they hit another corner, Duncan could see Frostbite down on the ground inching his way along the path. He felt bad for the snowman – he’d been such a good help, a good friend, and Duncan had honestly wanted him there at the finish. But the snowman would be fine, he knew that Gordie was more important.

“How much farther, Lou?” Duncan shouted.

“Getting shorter!” Lou shot back.

“Alms! Alms!”

Rounding the corner, Duncan saw a small band. There was four people, one each with a tuba, an accordion, a drum and a bell. The one with the bell was standing next to a green pot, calling out for donations. “Help the poor, Guv’ner?” she called out.

“People actually say ‘Guv’ner’ here?” he asked Lou, even as he was reaching for his wallet. He only had a twenty left after buying the action figure for Gordie, but tossed it into the pot without looking back and kept going.

“Thank you, sir! Bless you!”

“Merry Christmas!” Duncan shouted back at them over his shoulder. Lou looked as if he’d been slapped with a two-by-four.

“Duncan, have you ever said those words before?”

“No time to be astonished, Lou, let’s beat feet!”

As they kept their run up the mountain going, though, there was a shout from behind them. Duncan looked back to see someone with a knife tackling the accordion player.

“Gimme the money!” he shouted.

“Aw, nertz,” Duncan said. He ran back towards the band and the assailant stood up, grinning at him with a toothy smile.

“Best just walk away, mate,” he said.

“I can’t,” Duncan said, and cocked his hand back, landing a punch to the mugger’s jaw before he even knew what was happening. He fell down to the ground and Duncan jumped on him, stepping on his hand and kicking the knife off the edge of the mountain.

“Now you’re not going to pull any crap like that again, are you?” he shouted.

“No! No, sir!”

“In fact, you’re gonna stand right here and help these people collect alms, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir!”

“You’re going to stand here with these people and sing ‘Frosty the Snowmen,’ ‘I Saw Three Ships’ and ‘Feliz Navi-freaking-dad’ if that’s what they want! AREN’T YOU?”

“Yes!”

“Good.” Duncan grabbed the man by his lapels and pulled him up. “Have a wonderful holiday.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the rest of you – you might get more money down there in town than up here on the mountain.” He went to tip his hat to the band, realized he wasn’t wearing a hat, fired off a quick salute and took off running again.

“Duncan, you’re more than a Christmas lover, you’re a superhero!” Lou shouted behind him. Duncan didn’t even hear him – he was moving so quickly that the wind drowned out all the noise. For once, he was ignoring Lou and Lou didn’t mind at all.

Josiah could see the peak of the mountain, another circuit and he would be there. And the last time he saw him, Duncan was still at least two loops below. He’d even stopped to toss money at a charity band! Stupid as that usually was, at a time like this he must have been completely insane. So that’s what happened, he decided, one Lou was full and done polluting someone’s mind.

The path was beginning to get snowy again, this high up. Most of the loose gravel and rock had fallen down the mountain over the years, leveling the road out, and it snowed all the time up here, even during those moments where the ground was briefly free of the falling white. Trapped here for five years, though, he’d learned how to move on snow, even how to run, and he was moving much faster than he ever could have back home. Once he got back, of course, he would never need that skill again. He was moving to Florida or Bermuda – some place where there was no snow, ever. In fact, he’d go so far as to go to a library, just to find some sort of tropical climate where the weather was always in the 90s and nobody had ever heard of Christmas, and he didn’t give a damn if he had to go to the ends of the Earth to find it. Anything would be better than this hellhole.

The wind kicked up and blew past his face, and a flutter of snow caught him in the eyes. He cursed and fell back against the mountain to wipe it away – it’d be just his luck to walk off the side of the mountain while he was blind. That was something else he was going to look for when he got home – some place with no mountains. No mountains, no snow, no Christmas. Paradise.

There was a chomping sound from above him, and when he got his eyes clear he looked up to see Duncan grinding through the snow on the path above him. His eyes bulged out. How the Hell did Duncan get above him? That wasn’t possible! He would have seen him racing by on the path below! How did he do it? How could the path get shorter for him?

Once the initial anger and surprise faded, Josiah realized he didn’t give a damn how it happened, he just knew he had to stop him before he reached the top and found the kid. His gun was long since empty, and the path was almost devoid of stones to throw. But there was plenty of snow, and in his time trapped here, he’d learned that Christmastown snow was pretty much tailor made for snowballs.

“Hey, hey, Duncan,” he said, a nasty smile growing over his face. He bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, packing it tightly. He even found a small rock that he worked into the mix just for good measure. “Hey, hey!” he shouted, nearly screaming this time. “Hey! Duncan!”

And Duncan, being a typical human being, instinctively looked down when he heard someone below shouting out his name. And that’s when Josiah cocked back and let fly with his projective, a handy package of snow and stone, and he sent it humming straight at Duncan’s head.

Duncan, for a man his age, was in pretty good shape, still pretty agile, and when he realized he’d been had and a snowball was being whipped straight at his face, he reflexively twisted in the air to avoid being hit. He easily dodged the snowball – it ripped through the air and smashed harmlessly against the side of the mountain, but in twisting, Duncan had very briefly forgotten exactly where he was standing, namely on the very edge of a mountain path pretty high up over Christmastown. When the snowball whizzed past him and he lurched through the air, he lost his balance and teetered right over the edge of the cliff.

His feet, still clad in the loafers he’d put on to go to his in-law’s Thanksgiving feast, slipped away in the snow and slid right off the edge, sending him plummeting into the air. He shouted out, arms flailing, and he caught onto something sticking out into the air. It wasn’t until the snow finished sliding down into his eyes that he realized he was dangling precipitously over the edge of the cliff, holding on for dear life to the root of a Christmas tree.

“Oh geez, are we going for the irony now?” he muttered. “Lou! LOU!”

“Duncan! Are you okay?”

“My arms are about to pop out of their sockets and I’m hanging over the side of a cliff, but other than that I’m just swell. Get me out of here!”

Lou swept down, glitter-trail sparking down behind him, and he grabbed on to the back of Duncan’s coat. He pulled, trying to lift him up, but as he strained and moaned, all he succeeded in doing was stretching out the material.

“You’re too heavy, Duncan! I can’t lift you!”

“I can’t hold on!” Duncan screamed, and he had to scream – the wind was suddenly kicking up, drowning out both his and Lou’s voices. Snow was blowing past him, but somehow the snow was blowing up, flashing past him. Under other circumstances, he would have wondered how that was possible, but things being what they were, he was just afraid of getting blown off the branch and plunging down the mountain.

“Have no fear, duder!” shouted a familiar, frosty voice. The wind kicked up even harder, whistled even louder, and Duncan felt a cushion of air beginning to push him up.

“Frostbite? Is that you?”

“Just let go and enjoy the ride, my man!” howled the voice, and he realized it was in the snow all around him. Suddenly, he wasn’t scared anymore. He loosed his grip on the root and allowed himself to slip away into the air, but instead of falling, the wind caught him and pushed him up the mountain, faster than he possibly could have made the ascent under his own power. He was hurled through the air, racing up the side of the mountain like Superman, and was finally tossed right past the tip, landing in the snow beneath a beautifully decorated arch almost exactly like the one he and Gordie landed beneath when Lou first brought them to Christmastown. The wind died away and the snow that was blowing around swirled together, solidifying into a man-sized shape next to him. In a few second, a carrot nose and charcoal eyes appeared, twigs sprouted from the snow into arms, and with the last burst of wind, a black silk top had was carried through the air, perching neatly on Frostbite’s head.

“Had fun, Duncan?” Frostbite asked.

“A blast,” Duncan replied.

He straightened himself out, finding his footing, and brushed some errant flakes of snow from his hair. He turned around, and for the first time he saw the Winter Palace in all its glory. The Palace wasn’t made of painted stone, as he’d imagined from the ground, but was instead carved entirely from ice – every tower, every turret, every brick in the gate was a solid block. Sometimes the ice was cloudy white, some was blue, and some was amazingly clear. A pair of guards – a couple of giant toy soldiers – flanked either side of the frozen gate to the Palace courtyard. The entire structure stood like a monolith atop the mountain, colored Christmas lights flickering all about, casting different colors and patterns through the ice and into the air, making the Palace appear to glow against the night sky. If Duncan could get his house to look like this, he thought, he’d win the neighborhood lighting contest every freaking year.

“Wow.”

“Damn right, wow.” A hand clamped down on Duncan’s shoulder, spinning him around. He turned just in time to feel Josiah’s fist collide with his jaw, knocking him back through the arch into the snow.

“Well what do you know?” Josiah said. “Guess I win after all.”

Duncan’s jaw throbbed, but splashing into the snow chilled the blow nicely. He rolled over to see that Frostbite’s arm had dropped away to open up a snowblower, blasting away at Josiah. He was knocked down onto his back, skidding three feet back before getting driven deep into a snow bank. The snow kicked up and swirled around them all, but Duncan stepped out in front of Frostbite.

“Cool it, man. No pun intended.”

“Are you sure, bro? This guy--”

“This guy has caused me enough grief. I’m ready to finish this man to man.”

Frostbite dropped the blizzard barrage and his arm reappeared out of his snowball body. Before Josiah made it to his feet, Duncan was upon him, holding him by the lapel and shaking him down.

“Where’s my son, Josiah?” he shouted. “What did you do with him? Where is he?”

“He ran away, you chump!” Josiah snapped back. “But you know as well as I do that this is where he’s headed, and the minute he steps up here he’s gonna be my ticket back to Earth!”

“It doesn’t work that way, Josiah!” Lou yelled. “You’re stuck! There’s no going back!”

“why should I believe a single word you’ve got to say, you obnoxious little runt? You’re the reason I’m stuck here in the first place!”

“And you’re the reason I’m here,” Duncan said. “If you had a little human decency in your ugly little soul to begin with, Lou wouldn’t have been in his mess, and he wouldn’t have gone screwy enough to drag Gordie and me in with him! I ought to drop you right off the side of this mountain!”

“Duncan!” Lou yelled.

“But that wouldn’t be very Christmasy of me, would it?”

Josiah snapped his wrist around, smacking Duncan in the face and surprising him enough that he let go of him, dropping him into the snow. Instead of standing up, he whipped his legs around and kicked Duncan’s out from under him. He spilled into the wet snow next to Josiah, who kicked at his face wildly. Duncan flattened himself out, allowing the legs to swish over his head, then grabbed at Josiah’s leg, pulling at it and kicking him square in the crotch.

“That wasn’t Christmasy either,” Duncan said, “but I think it was worth a ‘Happy New Year’.” He pulled himself to his feet and turned around to face Lou. “Okay, we’re here. Now what do we do?”

“Well,” Lou said, but his answer was cut off when Josiah grabbed Duncan’s legs, pulling him down face-first into the snow. In fact, he knocked Lou out of the air on his way down. Frostbite, his anger renewed, began to pull clumps of his own body away, throwing snowballs at Josiah’s face.

Josiah leapt at Duncan, slamming their bodies together and driving him towards the edge. Frostbite lunged. “Dude, let me help!”

“I’ve got this one,” Duncan said, flipping Josiah over his body. He scampered towards him, trying to keep him down, but Josiah shoved him down, rolling on top of him. The two began to roll down the slope, finally pitching off the edge. Duncan managed to grab the edge, but Josiah fell further, clutching at the stone face. At this side of the mountain the drop was sheer, and quite steep to the path below.

Duncan grunted, pulling himself back up to the edge. Josiah squealed like a girl, though.

“Don’t let me fall!” he shouted. “Please!”

Duncan stared down at him, sprawled flat on his chest. As he lay in the snow he felt something press against his side. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the flat green box Joseph had given him – something Josiah had always wanted. He pulled on the blue ribbon, popping the lid off the box. Inside was a bright blue jump rope.

“This is what you always wanted?” Duncan called down to Josiah.

“HELP!” Josiah shouted back. Duncan shook the confusion from his head and wrapped one end of the rope tightly around his hand. He tossed it down over the edge, letting it dangle in Josiah’s reach. Still howling, Josiah took the rope in his hand. Duncan pulled, towing him up the side of the slope. He slipped and skidded in the snow, and more than once he was afraid he was going to plummet over the side himself, but soon he hoisted Josiah up over the edge.

“Are you okay?” he asked, gasping.

Josiah took a few deep breaths, crawling towards Duncan, who was holding out a hand to help him up. Josiah looked up at him, gasping, and clutched his hand.

Then he pulled Duncan down into the snow.

“I want the boy!” he roared.

“You don’t give up, do you?” Duncan asked, kicking backwards and nailing Josiah in the jaw. He rolled over onto his back and pushed himself up, trying to scoot backwards through the snow and out of Josiah’s reach. Josiah flailed for him, and Duncan kicked harder, adding his own spray of snow to the snowballs Frostbite was chucking at him. He put his arm up over his face to block the snow, but kept fighting all the same.

“He’s mine!”

“Back off, you jackass!”

“Give him to me!

“You had your shot!”

“BOYS, BOYS. BEHAVE YOURSELVES!”

The voice boomed out, rending the air itself and leaving everyone involved in the scuffle frozen in their tracks. A wry grin spread across Lou’s face and Frostbite looked down bashfully. If it was possible on a face made of snow, he even looked as though he were blushing a little. Duncan and Josiah, however, had precisely the same reaction: total blind astonishment.

Standing there at the open gates to the Winter Palace was a giant of a man, a massive old gent with an enormous belly and round, rosy cheeks. A white beard spilled halfway down his chest, out over his brilliant red suit with thick white trim. He had shiny leather boots that matched his shiny leather belt, cinched tightly around his considerable waist. A white rope dangled from his fist, slung over his shoulder, attached to a wonderfully massive green sack that hung on his back. There were two more accessories of note. On top of his head was a nearly-glowing red stocking cap with a pristine white puffball at the tip and matching fur around the rim. Sitting on his shoulder, smiling almost as big as the Big Man himself, was Gordie Marks, looking as happy as his father had ever seen him.

“Now boys, don’t let’s fight,” the gargantuan man said. “This is a HAPPY place. Now what seems to be the trouble?”

Duncan shoved himself up onto his knees, staring at the newcomer, completely agape. “Are you… are you…”

“Of course it’s him, Dad!” Gordie shouted. “It’s Santa Claus! I told you all along!”

Gordie and Santa Claus stood in the arch in front of the palace, their shadow extending out over the rest of them, stretching off into the night. Duncan was kneeling in the snow, kneeling in the shadow of a man he never even remembered believing in, staring up at a presence as big and majestic as the star-filled sky, staring up at him as he smiled and glowed and filled him with a warmth he never knew existed. He knelt there.

And he was ashamed of himself.

“You,” he said.

“Yes. Me. Hello, Duncan.”

“You know all about me, don’t you?”

“Indeed, I do. And I know about you too, Josiah,” he said, shaking his head. “Oh, you poor, poor man. You had such potential once, Josiah, you know that? If you didn’t, we never would have spent any of our valuable time trying to convert you. But you just weren’t interested.” Santa sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Josiah. I failed you.”

“You go to Hell,” Josiah snapped.

“Josiah! I understand how difficult things have been on you as of late, but that doesn’t mean I will tolerate such language in my home.”

“Oh, like I give a damn,” Josiah said. He staggered to his feet and lurched forward past Duncan and the others. For a moment Duncan felt a spike of fear at seeing the assailant approaching his son, but perched as he was on the shoulder of Santa Claus himself, Duncan couldn’t bring himself to believe his son was in any danger at all.

“Why should I care about ‘your’ home?” Josiah screamed. “I’ve been cut off from mine for years! I haven’t seen summer! I haven’t tasted a pizza! I don’t even know if my momma is still alive! I’m supposed to be sorry? Why don’t you go and shake your bowl full of jelly somewhere else, you tubby bitch?”

Gordie gasped quite loudly when Josiah said those words, although Duncan knew he was used to hearing far worse language from his grandfather. His shock, his father assumed, came from the idea that someone would say something so hateful to Santa. But the giant man laughed, and as he did it, his whole body did indeed shake and quiver like jelly. An uproarious “HO! HO! HO!” filled Duncan’s eardrums and he almost smiled, anticipating any number of fates that would befall Josiah.

“Ah, Josiah,” Santa said. “Always so ready to blame everyone else. You have been in Christmastown for five years. You haven’t spoken to your mother in eleven. Perhaps if you’d spoken to her earlier you wouldn’t have been banished here in the first place.”

“Bite me.”

“I am sorry, Josiah. But I will not allow you to disrupt my world any longer.” Santa took his sack from over his shoulder and opened it up. When he did, there was a tremendous gust of wind – the sack was sucking up air like a black hole. Duncan managed to stay on his feet and Lou, grabbing on to Duncan’s coat, was safe as well. Frostbite lost a few snowflakes, but stood his ground. Josiah, however, was ripped from his feet and sent spinning through the air. The bag opened its maw, gulping at the air, waiting for Josiah. He was sucked into the bag feet-first, but grabbed on to the edges, holding himself in place.

“What are you doing?” he screamed. “Let me out! Let go of me!”

“I’m sorry, Josiah. You were given every chance. You didn’t take any of them. Farewell.”

“NO! LET ME GO!” Josiah’s scream was bloodcurdling, as horrible as anything Duncan had ever heard. His fingers finally gave way and he was pulled into the sack, howling all the way. Soon his screams blended with the screams of the wind, and when Santa pulled on the rope, drawing the bag shut, the wind and screams slowed and died together.

“What did you do to him, Santa?” Gordie asked.

“I have punished him. I have banished him to a place where he will never find happiness.”

“Where’s that?”

“Earth.”

Duncan cleared his throat. “Um… Santa? Your Highness?”

“Santa will be just fine, Duncan.”

“Yeah. Um. Thanks. You said you sent him back to Earth? But… I thought Lou said that once somebody’s window here passed he could never go back to Earth.”

“Once someone’s window of redemption has passed he can never enter my Palace. But I need no portal to send someone from one Realm to another. Josiah will return home to the same spot where he was taken from. He will find that five years have passed, for although I can slow or speed time I cannot pierce that barrier or make it run in reverse. But he will have no memory of his time here in Christmastown. He will find that the world has moved on without him, and he will find himself every bit as miserable as he was when he left. If he is ever to find happiness, he will have to do it on his own, for we can no longer aid him. Sadly, I doubt that he will ever find what he seeks.”

“Oh,” said Duncan. “Bummer.”

He stood in Santa’s shadow, looking up into the sparking eyes, trying to think of anything to say to him besides, “I thought you’d be shorter.” Nothing came. It was Santa who broke the quiet.

“Lou,” he said. “This one has been your charge.”

“Yes sir!” Lou said, executing a deft spin in mid-air and firing off a salute with near-military precision.

“And do you believe he has opened his heart? Allowed the magic of Christmas to invigorate him? Found the joy that belongs to one and all at this blessed time of the year?”

Lou looked over his shoulder at Duncan. “Oh. Well… He’s a heck of a guy, sir.”

“Lou…”

Lou looked Duncan straight in the eye, and Duncan shivered for a second, unsure about what the little spirit will say. But then Lou smiled at him, and turned to Santa Claus.

“Honestly, sir, I can’t say for sure if he’s a total convert. But I can tell you this much – for any fella who loves his son as much as he does and who has as much genuine goodness in his heart as Duncan Marks, I don’t know if matters if he specifically associates it with Christmas. Sir.”

Santa took Lou’s measure for a long moment, then turned his attention to Duncan, looking him up and down and contemplating him as well. Finally, his rosy cheeks lifted into the most incredible smile Duncan had ever seen.

“That, my little friend, is just the right answer. ”

Santa reached up and took Gordie from his shoulder, setting him down on the snow. The little boy took off on a run towards his father, and Duncan scooped him up in his arms, holding him close. Lou perched on Frostbite’s shoulder and watched.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaw,” they both said.

“Is that a snowman, dad?” Gordie asked.

“Yep. That’s my friend Frostbite.”

Gordie’s eyes bugged. “You made a friend?”

“Hey, little dude, your dad is the man. You should have seen the way he surfed the Frostbite Blizzard all the way up this mountain when it looked like Josiah was gonna beat him!”

“You surfed?”

“Well… I kind of got carried. But it was a heck of a lot of fun.” “Frostbite, my friend, why don’t you take Gordie on a ride? I have to speak to his father for a moment.”

“Sure, Boss. If it’s okay with Big Daddy.”

Duncan smiled. “I trust you, Frostbite.” He let go of Gordie, reluctantly, and let his son rush over to the snowman.

“Thanks, Mr. Snowman!” he said. “And Santa, don’t forget what I asked for!”

“I won’t, Gordie!”

Frostbite took Gordie by hand and led the child, who showed no fear at all, right up to the lip of the mountain. Frostbite’s body began to shiver, then fell apart, exploding into a whirlwind of snow. The storm lifted the boy, squealing with delight, and together they flew off into the night.

“Duncan, approach me, please,” Santa Claus said. Duncan nodded and slowly stepped up to the giant embodiment of the season. He looked down at him, and his face was stern, but not unkind.

“How are you, Duncan?”

“Tired,” Duncan admitted. “And confused. I’m not sure how or why all this happened. Or why it happened to me.”

“That isn’t important now,” Santa Claus said. “The important question is… are you GLAD it happened?”

Duncan looked out into the sky, where he saw a speck he was certain was his son fly across the face of a beautiful full moon. “Yes,” he said to Santa. “I think I really am.”

“Then that is what matters, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Good. In that case, I will tell you why you were selected. If you had any other answer, I would have simply sent you on your way.”

Santa Claus began to take a stroll down the wall of his Palace, exquisitely carved of blue and white ice, and Duncan realized he was supposed to be walking with him. He quickly jogged along and caught up.

“You see, Duncan,” Santa said, “Your son is IMPORTANT. Christmas is a time of magic. It is the time of year when hope and goodwill become truly personified.”

“In you, sir?”

“I am the face that Spirit wears, yes,” Santa said, “but I am nothing more than the feelings of men and women of good faith in every Realm, come together and personified. I live because people believe, and I will continue to live as long as people believe.”

“I think I understand.”

“I knew you would, Duncan. Here, now, is something else to understand. Nothing is really eternal. Nothing lasts forever, not even an ending. And not even me. At times, the world begins to forget about Christmas. But the world NEEDS Christmas, whether it believes it or not.

“That’s why people like Gordie are important. From time to time, Duncan, there are standard-bearers. People who do contribute something amazing that helps to keep the spirit of Christmas alive. Charles Dickens was one. Josef Mohr and Franz Gruber. Clement Clarke Moore. Thomas Nast. Frank Capra. Tim Allen.”

“Tim Allen?”

“Do you think it’s a coincidence that he keeps making all of those Christmas movies? At any rate, Gordie has the potential to be such a person, such a creator. People like Gordie make things new – a new hero, a new story, a new piece of music that becomes so evocative of Christmas that, in a few years, nobody can ever remember the season without it. Gordie has the potential to make something that, someday, will help Christmas live on for the next generation. You have a very special son, Duncan Marks.”

“Yeah,” Duncan said. “I know it.”

“And THAT is why you are here. I want you to love Christmas, Duncan. I want everyone to love Christmas. But ultimately, you don’t matter.”

“You know how to make a guy feel needed.”

“I’m Santa Claus, Duncan, I won’t lie to you. But because your son IS important, then it’s important that you allow him to believe in Christmas. To become the man he will one day be. ”

“So I can still do that?” Duncan asked. “It’s not too late for me?”

Santa tossed his head back and laughed. “Ho! Ho! Ho! Oh, Duncan. It was NEVER too late. If it was, we never would have even bothered to bring you here. But what happens next… that’s going to be the hard part.”

“Why? What happens next?”

“You go home, you and Gordie both. Josiah will have no memory of his life in Christmastown. You and Gordie WILL remember, but not as you remember it now. You will remember all of this – Josiah, Frostbite, me… even Lou – as you remember a dream. And it will be up to you to decide whether to heed that dream or to return to your old ways.”

“I never trust my dreams,” Duncan said. “Even when I do remember them, I never pay attention to them.”

“I know, Duncan. And that’s what makes this hard. I can only pray you make the right choice.”

By now, they had walked completely around the Winter Palace and came back to the arch, where Frostbite was landing with Gordie safely in tow.

“That was amazing!” Gordie shouted. “Dad, you’ve got to try that!”

“I’ve already been on that ride, buddy,” he said.

“Are you ready to go home, Gordie?” Santa asked.

“I… aw, gee. I don’t know…”

“It’s time, Gordie,” Duncan said. “We’ve been gone for days. Don’t you miss your mother?”

“Yeah…”

“Anyway, it’s not like you’re saying good-bye to anything. It’s Christmas where we’re going too.”

That made the boy smile, and he hugged his father.

“Hey, and don’t think I forgot you while you were gone. I got you a great present while you were gone.”

“Why don’t you let him open it now, Duncan?”

“The shopkeeper said it couldn’t be opened until Christmas.”

Santa Claus smiled. “Where I am, Duncan, it’s ALWAYS Christmas.”

Duncan reached into his coat and handed Gordie the box with the Ultimate Action Figure in it. Gordie shouted and quickly pulled the box open. The toy fell out into his hand, a nine-inch action figure of a man in a dark coat with a slightly receding hairline. Lou smiled. “Duncan! It’s you!”

“It’s me?” Duncan took the figure and turned it over in his hands. “It is me.”

Lou floated up to Duncan’s ear and whispered, “Don’t let it go to your head. The Ultimate Action Figure turns into whoever the kid’s hero is when he opens it. Ten minutes ago it would have been Santa Claus. Next week it’s liable to be Shaquille O’Neal.”

“Golly, thanks, Lou. You know what? I think I may actually miss you.”

“Feeling is mutual, Duncan.”

“Take care, duder,” Frostbite said, holding up his stick arm. Duncan high fived him, and gave him a slap on the back.

“Thanks, Frostbite. I never thought I’d quite go in for those extreme sports, but you have a way of getting to a guy.”

Duncan handed the toy back to Gordie and looked up to Santa Claus. “Okay, big guy. What now?”

“Now, Duncan, you enter my Palace, and find your way home.”

Santa stepped aside, leaving Duncan and Gordie a clear path up to the gates of the Winter Palace. As they approached, the Wooden Soldiers raised their weapons and the ice gates opened up for them.

“ENTER, MORTALS!” the guard proclaimed.

They did.

“Duncan? Duncan, wake up, sleepyhead.”

A hand on Duncan’s shoulder roused him from sleep. He saw Maureen smiling down at him, looking as happy as he’d ever seen her. Behind her his clock radio was buzzing. “Hey there, guys and girls, it’s a beautiful December first, and it’s a brisk one. You’d better get your coats out – and those of you who’ve been naughty, you’ve only got 24 days left to make it onto the ‘nice’ list.”

“It’s December first already?” Duncan moaned. “Good grief, it feels like Thanksgiving was just yesterday.”

“Are you okay, honey?”

“Yeah, I just… had a doozy of a dream.”

“Well, shake that sleep from your eyes, sweetheart. You’ve got a big day – you promised you’d take Gordie Christmas shopping.”

“I promised that?” Duncan said. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

She gave him a sly grin and a kiss on the cheek. “We were all surprised, baby.”

While Maureen whipped up a breakfast fit for kings, Gordie excitedly talked about a dream of his own from the night before. He was talking about elves and snowmen and Santa Claus, and while it was just like him to have such a dream – especially under his mother’s influence – it shook Duncan a little how much of what he described matched the dream he recalled having himself. He was losing more and more of the dream as he got more and more awake, and for some reason, that was really starting to bother him.

Breakfast eaten, Duncan got his coat from the hall closet, a long black topcoat, and reached into the pocket for his gloves.

“Hey, what’s this?” Instead of gloves, he pulled a crystal angel, a beautiful one, with a loop at the top. It was clearly a Christmas tree ornament.

“Duncan, what’s that?” Maureen asked. “Is that for me?”

Is it? Duncan thought. But that was a silly thought – of course it was. He must have picked it up at a store somewhere, knowing she would love it.

“Of course it is, baby. I saw it and I just thought of you.”

She kissed him again, took the ornament and placed it on their Christmas tree. Duncan had set it up the day before… he was pretty sure. Although it did seem to have gone up must easier than it normally did.

“Are you going to keep an eye out for any…” he peeked around to make sure Gordie wasn’t in earshot. “Any Santa Claus stuff?” she whispered.

“I guess,” he said. “I still don’t know about that, hon. I think he’s old enough for the talk.”

“And I think it won’t hurt him at all to still believe Christmas is magic.”

He smiled at her. “You’re just too pretty to argue with sometimes.”

Her eyes glittered when she blushed. Somehow he had forgotten that. He hadn’t forgotten how she had a tendency to change the subject when she got bashful. “Is that a new coat, sweetheart?” she asked. “I’ve never seen it before. You look good in it.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he said, reaching into his other pocket, expecting the gloves to be there. They were – next to a piece of red construction paper. He looked at the Christmas stocking ornament with his name on it, stunned. His mother must have given it to him last Christmas, he decided, and he’d forgotten it in his pocket. As Maureen went off to fetch Gordie, he quietly placed it on the tree, right next to a clothespin decorated to look like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Duncan and Gordie stepped out into the yard and off to the car. As he opened the door, Duncan caught a glimpse of his house. The Christmas decorations, he had to admit, looked spectacular this year, even this early in the morning when they weren’t lit up. Maureen’s nativity scene had a place of honor on the ground, but he was surprised at how good Santa’s village looked on the roof. Especially that one elf, the smiling one with the head a bit too big for his body.

In town, Duncan rolled his car into the parking garage and set out with Gordie to the mall. The boy was quite enthusiastic – he’d already gotten Duncan’s present, he informed him, but he needed to find something great for his mother. Duncan nodded, knowing that any present his son wanted to purchase would likely require a quick loan from the First National Bank of Dad, but that was okay. He never asked for much, and this was a good cause.

Standing outside the shopping center was an ugly man covered in filth wearing tails and a top hat. There was something nasty, but familiar about him, and Duncan supposed he’d seen him panhandling before. He was walking around cursing, kicking at the pot for a Salvation Army Santa Claus.

“What’s wrong with that man, Daddy?” Gordie asked.

“Some people just don’t know how to treat people, son,” Duncan said. “Just ignore him.”

They started to walk past, hearing the man shouting. “Christmas! I hate Christmas! I HATE it! It’s still Christmas! STILL CHRISTMAS!”

Duncan tried to ignore the man, assuming he had some sort of mental imbalance, some medical reason for his behavior, but the more he shouted and caused a ruckus, the less patience he had. Duncan wasn’t a fan of Christmas himself, but this was just ridiculous. When he tried to rip the bucket from the chain, Duncan knew he had gone too far.

“Hey! Let go of that!” he yelled, running up and pulling the man away. He looked up at Duncan, eyes wild but not with insanity, with hatred.

“You!”

“You?” Duncan asked. “Do I know you?”

“I… I… leave me alone!”

“Leave this poor guy alone! What did Santa Claus ever do to you?”

“Santa Claus? You know what I hate more than Christmas? I hate Santa Claus!”

“Yeah, you’re a wonderful role model for our youth. Why don’t you just get out of here? It’s not worth the trouble, pal.”

“Come on mister,” Gordie said. “Don’t be like that. What will Santa Claus say when he hears how you’re acting up?”

“Don’t you talk to me about Santa Claus!” the man shouted. “You wanna know about Santa Claus? I’ll tell you everything you ever need to know about Santa Claus, you snot-nosed little brat!”

His ravings and Duncan’s efforts to quell him had drawn a crowd at this point, a mob of people standing around watching the confrontation. The man lunched at Gordie, but Duncan grabbed him and held him back. He couldn’t stop him from leaning forward and screaming, though.

“You want to know about Santa Claus?” he screamed. “He’s a lie! He’s a dirty, filthy lie! There ain’t no Santa Claus, kid! NONE! AND THERE NEVER WAS!”

“My mom and dad say--”

“Your mom and dad lie too, brat! Everyone lies! Santa Claus is a lie, Christmas is a lie, EVERYTHING IS A--”

Duncan’s fist nailed the man’s jaw because he didn’t know any other way to make him shut up. He fell back onto the sidewalk while, around them, everyone stood agape. They were staring, desperate to see what happened next. Duncan thought he even saw one of them eating a bag of popcorn, transfixed.

“What did he say, Daddy?” Gordie asked.

“Gordie--”

“Daddy, what did he just say about Santa Claus?” Gordie’s eyes were pleading, his lip quivered. Duncan could see the tears appearing in the corner, and his son’s voice was shaking, infused with the fear of a child who, on some level, had begun to suspect that the world wasn’t really the wonderful haven he’d always believed it to be and, for the first time, was being presented evidence to the same.

“What did he say, Daddy?”

Duncan looked at his son.

Then he turned and looked at the man who, by now, was back on his feet.

“Don’t you ever say that to my son again,” Duncan said.

“What, are you gonna stop me? I only needed to say it once.”

“Maybe I wasn’t clear.” Duncan grabbed the man by his lapels, pulling him in close. He could smell his breath, fetid and rank, his teeth yellow and rotten, his face unshaven and his hair unkempt. Duncan held him closer to his face than anyone but Maureen had been in years.

“Don’t you ever say that to my son. Don’t you ever tell my son a dirty, filthy lie like that one! Your life may be in the crapper, pal, your life may be a festering pile, but if you want to take on a beautiful boy like this one and shatter every one of his hopes and dreams, you will do it over my dead body. And trust me, asshole, you don’t have what it takes to make that body happen.”

Duncan dropped the man on the pavement and he scooted backwards, finally reaching his feet, and ran away. As he disappeared into the crowd, Duncan turned to Gordie and knelt by him.

“Of course there’s a Santa Claus, Gordie,” he said. “You know that. You don’t need him or me or anybody else to tell you that. You believe in Santa Claus, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Daddy, I do.”

“Good. Then that’s enough.”

He stood up and looked at the crowd around him. Most of them were smiling. A few of them looked like they were about to applaud. He pushed his way through to the door and had it open before he realized he was alone. Gordie was still behind him, looking at him with a smile as big and wide as Santa Claus’s fat leather belt.

“Well, come on!” Duncan snapped. “Don’t we have some shopping to do?”