December 11th

 A Man Called Santa 

In Memory of Ben Heaps 

 

I’m not the easiest person to get along with. Joanna can attest to how difficult it is to be married to me. It’s because I was raised by God-fearing parents whose sole purpose was my homeschooling and gave me that same fear in God and going to Hell. Jokes and nonreligious songs were forbidden. Holidays
were solemn. Magic was evil. 

For years, I went willingly along with my parents’ ways until I went to college. There I began to wonder if they might be wrong. My parents got angry that my trust in them was slipping. My response to their

anger was taking a job, right after graduation, far away.  

But I couldn’t get rid of my upbringing. I cringe at every popular fantasy book and movie. My stomach churns with mentions of the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus.  

Joanna and I met at work and became friends. To everyone’s surprise, we fell in love and got married. We’re each other’s opposites and still making it work after eleven years. We’ve rubbed off on each other some. But recently we’ve been rubbing each other the wrong way.  Christmas is when things are at their worst with us.  

Joanna kind of respects my wishes. Our kids have always known the truth of where their presents come from. But she brings home stories and movies about the magic of Christmas and shares them with the kids. This drives me crazy, but I still don’t want to lose her. To avoid another explosion like last year, I’ve agreed to spend Christmas with her parents.  

Joanna’s mom, Yolanda, greets us with all the excitement and warmth my mom never had. 

While relaxing with some hot chocolate, Yolanda tells us the news of the town. After minutes of rambling, I hear her say, “Oh and Robbie Collins had a heart attack last month. He’s in Evergreen Village- that new retirement care place.”  

Joanna looked distraught and declared, “We’re going to see him!” 

“Wait what? Why?” I stammered. “Who?” 

Yolanda sighed and said, “I know you don’t like magic… stuff, Austin… But Robbie Collins means a lot to this town.” 

“Was he a mayor or something?” I asked. 

Joanna drops her smile and says hesitantly, “For almost forty years Mr. Robbie has been Santa Claus at every town, school and church function. Every kid who’s lived here has seen him, visited him.” 

My chest tightened and I felt cold as the winter weather. “Do what you want Joanna.” I turn to go back to the car, “I need to finish unloading.” 

She didn’t follow me, but soon Joanna’s dad, Roger, came out of the house. I was certain he was here to defend his wife and daughter. I was ready for a fight.  

Then Roger said, “Need some help?” 

All my anger ran away. 

“Uh… sure,” I muttered. 

When we got everything into the guest room Roger said, “Austin… You’re a decent man… I could’ve gotten a worse son-in-law.” Not sure if he was complimenting me or not, I kept silent, “But I think you need to hear this… You can be right or you can be happy.” 

Roger left me to think. 

Against my better judgement I went with Joanna and the kids to see this fake Santa guy. 

Walking us to his room a nurse told us, “You aren’t the first visitors! Everyone is coming to see their Santa.”  

The nurse left us at his room. The door was open I saw his room was overloaded with child-like decorations. Mr. Robbie hadn’t seen us yet, he was watching T.V. in a wheelchair. I felt disappointed that besides his white hair he didn’t look like Santa. He didn’t have a beard! 

I waited for Joanna to greet him. When she didn’t, I looked at her. She was clutching the wrapped gift she bought him like a scared child.  

“He’s old and worn out,” Joanna whispered, grasping my hand. 

I felt my heart soften a bit. I turned to the man and said in a business tone, “Mr. Robbie Collins.” 

He turned at the sound of his name and squinted at us. then his wrinkled face folded into a smile, “Jo-Jo Roberts! Is that you? Yolanda’s little girl all grown up?” 

“I go by Joanna now…” she stammered, “Joanna Harper.” 

“And those be the little Harpers. And you?” he said turning his smile to me, “Must be Mr. Harper!” His smile made me feel like he was excited to see me too.  

Mr. Robbie reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place who.  

 “Come in! Come in!” He waved us into his room. We found seats. He offered us cookies and candy for the kids. Joanna gave him the gift. 

The conversation wasn’t profound- nothing memorable was said. But I remember there was laughter from all of us. Mr. Robbie listened intently as Joanna told him about college and how we met. When the kids spoke, he listened as if they were giving him important information. 

As the visit continued, I kept trying figure out who Robbie reminded me of. 

When a nurse came to get Robbie for dinner, he grabbed my hand and said in a friendly tone, “You’d be handsome if you smiled more.” Everyone laughed. I let out a chuckle. Then he gestured for me to come closer. I knelt down and Robbie whispered, “He’s waiting for you to give Him that weight you’re hanging onto, Brother.” 

Robbie nods, claps me on the shoulder and says to the nurse, “Dinner awaits me! My stomach is getting impatient!” 

Walking to the car, I took Joanna’s hand and said, “I like him.” 

“Really?” she said in relief. 

“He reminds me of someone.” 

“Who?” 

I pointed to the Nativity scene the nursing home had out front and say, “Him, the one they’re gathered around.” 

THE END