Page 1 of Santa of the Creek
Chapter One
30th November
Echo
“It’s an easy gig,” she says.
“All you have to do is dress up as Santa Claus for an afternoon to entertain the old folks,” she says.
Sheis Gloria Lester, the dispatcher from the sheriff’s office, and the old folks live at Collier’s Creek assisted living facility.
But they need a Santa, and the usual victim, I mean, willing participant, is out of town. I have a feeling Randy deliberately chose this weekend to hightail it to his sister’s. I can’t think of any other reason he’d willingly go there.
Why the old folks need to see Santa in November, before the tree-lighting ceremony takes place, I’ve no idea, but Gloria insists that’s the way Collier’s Creek always does it.
So now they’re looking for a new victim to take his place. Why did they pick me? I have the afternoon off. Ta-da, Echo will do it. I also fit the suit, being almost the same size as Randy but with less paunch. Gloria presents me with a cushion to stuff down my pants. Thanks, Gloria.
I stare at myself in the mirror. “You look ridiculous, Echo Masters.”
Yes, my name is Echo. My dad had a thing about an eighties rock band from Liverpool in England. I guess I should be grateful my middle name isn’t Bunnymen. It’s George, in case you want to know. My middle name, that is.
I really don’t mind this gig. I’m rapidly approaching thirty, a new resident in Collier’s Creek, and it’s good to take part in the community. I grew up in a small town like this in Florida. My smile fades, and I trace the thin scar on my cheek. No, not like Collier’s Creek. Here I’m just the bartender. There I was the freak. There’s a reason I never go home.
“Echo, get your butt in here so I can laugh…I mean check your costume.”
I waggle my middle finger at the door in response to Gloria’s bellow. She’s a decade younger than me and twice as fierce.
“I saw that,” she yells.
“No, you didn’t.”
“So you admit it. Hah!”
I roll my eyes. One day that girl will take over the world. God help every man who stands in her way.
I waddle out of the bedroom, relieved that the cushion stays in place. Ain’t no one who can walk gracefully with a cushion stuffed down their pants. How do women do this pregnancy gig?
Gloria emerges from my kitchen and beams at me. “You look perfect. Deputy Ben is gonna be thrilled.” Then she claps her hands over her mouth. “Oops.”
I immediately scowl. “Is he the one who put you up to this?”
“I shouldn’t have told you that. Pretend you didn’t hear me.”
I fold my arms on top of my huge, cushioned fake gut and stare at her. “Gloria!”
“Yes, but only because he knew if he asked you’d say no.”
“He doesn’t know that,” I say heatedly.
Gloria raises one immaculate eyebrow. Seriously, the woman has the best eyebrows ever. I need lessons. “Look me in the eyes while you lie to my face.”
I sigh because she’s right. “Okay, okay. I might have been less willing to take part if he’d asked.”
“Girl, you’d have told him where to take his request and it wouldn’t be anything my momma could hear.”
Let me explain. Everyone loves Deputy Ben. I mean, the whole of Collier’s Creek thinks the guy walks on water. He’s lived in the town like forever, and is shacked up with the silver fox of a sheriff. Of course they all love him.
Except me.
