Page 52 of The Neighborhood Ghost

Legs placed Mr. Whiskers back into his vest pocket. He strode down the hallway; his massive shoes pounded against the hardwood floor. Max wagged her tail in anticipation. Legs thentook a knee and glanced at Alice for approval. She nodded, and he took a finger and scratched under Max’s chin.

Max closed her eyes and wagged her tail back and forth across the hardwood flooring. He stopped. Max opened her eyes and scooted forward, nudging him to continue with the scratching. He gave a few more scratches, and Max blissfully closed her eyes once more.

“See,” Alice said. “She likes you.”

“She’s a good doggy,” Legs said.

“Max is the best,” Alice said.

The murmurs stopped from the crowd gathered in the hallway.

“What is happening here?” a voice yelled from down the hall. “Make way, make way.”

The elves parted to allow someone through.

Around the corner emerged a man dressed in a white shirt and red vest trimmed in gold. He wore red pants with black boots trimmed in white. A snow-colored beard and white hair to match. An older gentleman with rosy red cheeks and a joyous smile on his face. A round belly. This was the one and only Nicholas “Santa” Claus.

“Esmerelda Honeydew,” Santa said. “You’re no intruder.”

“Hello, Nick,” Ez replied. “I would have sent word, but time is of the essence.”

Santa turned to the elves crowded into the hallway. “Nothing to see here,” he said in a bellowing voice. “These are my friends. Please go about your work. Remember, Christmas is only a few days away.”

The crowd dispersed back down the hallway.

“I need to go. It was nice to meet you, Alice Primrose,” Legs said.

“It was nice to meet you too, Legs,” Alice replied.

The massive elf stood and followed the diminutive elf down the hall toward the reindeer.

“See, I’m good with animals,” Legs said to his companion as they disappeared down the hall.

Alice turned her attention back to Santa. “Nick, thank you for allowing us into your home,” Alice said. “These are my friends?—”

“Carol and Oliver Raskin of Newbury Grove,” Santa said.

“Santa knows who we are?” Oliver asked.

“Of course,” he replied. “I know everyone.”

“Oliver, watch yourself,” Carol said. “We’re guests.”

“I’m behaving,” he replied.

Santa’s round belly shook as he laughed. “Friends of Esmerelda are friends of mine. Come. Join me for some hot cocoa and cookies.”

“How might I help you?”Santa asked as he sat down in an illustrious, wooden chair padded in red leather cushions on the seat and chair back. Its wood was stained a dark brown. It was crafted by an expert woodworker, no doubt holding the craftsman himself. A throne perfect for the King of Winter.

He sat at the end of a rectangular table filled with all the trimmings of Christmas. A red table runner spanned the entire length. A gingerbread house center piece. Candles surrounded by pine wreaths. Cinnamon, orange peels, and pine filled the air. Bowls of candy sat out, tempting the guests. Oliver, Carol, and Ez sat around the table. Oliver reached for a piece of candy, but he was quietly scolded by his wife. Max stood with her head on Oliver’s lap, her tail wagging and hoping for a taste of whatever he was eating.

Alice stood. Her eyes wandered. The abundance of decorative items overwhelmed her, as her sense of wonder and love of Christmas demanded her full attention. Christmas trees were nestled in the four corners of the room. Seven feet tall, their toppers nearly touching the ceiling. They glittered with gold, silver, red, and green bulbs. Wreathes hung from the walls, connected by red ribbon interwoven from one wreath to the next. A hearth, blazing with a log, provided warmth and a sense of coziness on this dark December night. Its mantel decorated with every inch of the trimmings of Christmas.

Alice’s maximalist senses were ablaze with stimulation and tantalization. The North Pole was everything she had hoped it would be and more.

Alice turned her attention back to Santa and removed her witch’s hat. She held it with both hands in front of her, like a beggar asking for permission or forgiveness or both. She gulped and took a few steps forward. “Nick, we need help. Help only someone like you could offer.”

“Well, it’s Christmas. How could I not offer to help?” he asked.

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