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A cold wind blew a discarded store flyer down the Main Street of Pawnee Falls, past the hop-stepping Sidewalk Santa then up against the entrance of the Information Center and Museum. Inside, Johnny Johnson napped, head cradled by arms as a small rivulet of drool dripped down to the desk. The door swung open and thwacked an old-fashioned bell spring. A lethargic ring woke up Johnny at the same moment the frigid outside air slapped him. He opened a groggy eye and his eyebrow rose pulling the rest of him along into an upright position.
A smallish, balding, bespectacled man in white shirt, bow-tie and old-fashioned bowler hat studied Johnny with narrowed eyes.
“Can I help you, sir?” asked Johnny.
“What have you got?” replied Nick.
Johnny sighed and put on his best professional smile. Another senior citizen who’s forgotten why he’s come in here. Still, the old gent was welcome company on a lonely day.
“Sir,” asked Johnny again, “Can I help you with something?”
Distracted by an old-timey photograph on the wall and other antique artifacts from the town’s history, Nick replied “Help me. Help me. How can you help me?”
Johnny, feeling that he had to take control of the situation even if in some small way, offered the old man candy. Eyes lit up. Then glancing at an old-fashioned weighted scale, its bowl filled with chocolate goblins and marshmallow ghosts, his eyes flashed. He spat out “Halloween” making it sound like a curse.
“Ooh! I want one!” A small figure, an overgrown boy, darted out from behind the old man. Another boy, nearly identical, darted from the other side and got to the bowl first then held out a ghost to the first boy.
“My grandsons,” said Nick, “Trouble enough.”
“We’re cousins,” offered the second boy who wore a red coat and a green cap.
“I want to tell it,” demanded the first boy who wore a green coat and a red cap.
“Grandfather Nick is the Spirit of Christmas!” they both shouted proudly.
Fruitcake for Christmas thought Johnny. The old man lived in a fantasy world which those around him accepted as fact. He could play along. After all, ‘twas the season.
“Oh, I see. You must be San…”
“No!” said the boys, “Uncle Stan’s not here. He’s just our front man anyways. Grandfather here is the real brains of the outfit.”
When Johnny was a toddler, he fell into a snowbank. The more he struggled, the deeper it sucked him in. This conversation was a lot like that. Better just to lay still.
“See here, Johnny, may I call you Johnny? Call me Nick. I have a very important question for you.”
“The future of Christmas is at stake,” said Candle who miraculously appeared from behind Nick and perched herself on the counter.
“Got anymore back there?” asked Johnny trying to keep control of his brain.
“Johnny… Candle. Candle… Johnny,” said Nick, “Tell me. Is it better to give or receive?”
“Of course, it’s better to give,” answered Johnny, “Every child’s taught that.”
“Told you” said one boy to the other who promptly pinched him back.
“You’re sure?” asked Candle.
“Of course I am, why… Hey, put that down!”
The boy in the red cap clutched a toy car and ran it across the counter while making vrooming sounds.
“Why? I want it. Giving it to me should make you feel good. You just said that giving’s better.”
Johnny scratched his ear. “It’s not as simple as that. That’s not really a toy, it’s a scale model. Belongs to the museum. Very fragile. Hand it back please. Careful.”
“Well,” said Candle smoothing her shimmering dress, “That didn’t prove anything. It isn’t always better to give.”
“Say, Mister?” asked the boy in the green cap, “Did you drop this? Here.” He gave Johnny a bundle of dollar bills wrapped by a store circular and ribbon.
Johnny sat abruptly, hands shivering. “I can’t believe I lost this money. Oh, dear god…”
Nick studied the glossy ad announcing the 3-Hour Christmas Eve Sale! Plastic toys, ugly sweaters, twinkly diamond earrings and a glistening snow blower.
“I need to buy that in the worst way. I didn’t think I’d saved enough but then the newspaper came and it’s on sale today and…”
“Look at the poor human,” said Candle. “He’s in shock.”
“I thought that getting the gift would make him feel good,” said Give.
“I’m not sure that giving him something he already has is the same,” said Candle. “In any case, that didn’t work out either. We still don’t know if it’s better to give or receive. What do we do now, Nick?”
At that moment, the Sidewalk Santa skipped past the office windows ringing his bells in frenetic rhythms and waking Johnny from his long winter’s nap. He opened a groggy eye and his eyebrow rose pulling the rest of him along into an upright position. He shook his head to clear it of that crazy dream.
“How long…? Four o’clock! Time’s running out!”