Read The Globe (A Christmas Story) Page 3

“Oh…Fine, C’mon dumb-dumb.”

  6

  Richard crept out of the little hut and followed Orin down Main Street. He hoped they weren’t going far because, even though he was provided with a warm blanket, his feet were still bare and the snow was nipping at his skin. The streets were full of cheerful elves laughing and wishing each other a Merry Christmas. Richard wondered why he got stuck with the crabby one while all the other’s seemed so happy.

  All the huts and shops lined along Main Street looked like life-sized ginger bread houses. He felt he could walk up and take a bite out of the gum drops that were apparently lights. He could hear the train rolling on the tracks and see the puffs of smoke from the engine. It was truly like walking in a winter wonderland. A fat little elf came running toward them holding a rolled up letter. When he reached them he handed the letter to Orin and bent over huffing and puffing with his tiny hands on his knees.

  “What is it?” Richard asked.

  “It’s a request from Mr. Clause. He wants to see you immediately.” Orin rolled the letter back up and stuffed it in his pocket. “Well…We better get going.”

  Just then a dark shadow enclosed the town. Richard looked to the sky and was shocked to see a giant eyeball staring back at him. The eye started to move away until it formed a face. The elves around Richard started running for cover, but Richard didn’t notice because the huge face he was looking at was Stacy’s.

  “Hit the deck dumb-dumb!” Orin screamed and dove into a snow bank.

  Richard paid no attention to the panic of the elves. He stood in amazement as an enormous hand came toward him, and the next thing he knew the world turned into a giant earthquake. He was thrown from his feet and hit the ground hard. He felt like a pinball in a cloud of snow as he bounced of street lights and houses. As quickly as the ruckus started it stopped. Richard sat up and couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face. The snowfall was too heavy. After what seemed an eternity the snow finally settled.

  Richard gathered himself and shook the heavy coat of powdery snow from his shoulders and hair like a wet dog shaking off water. He looked around and noticed the Elves were doing the same. It took some time but he was able to track down Orin.

  “Wow that was a close one.” Orin grumbled.

  Richard had gathered what had happened, but the elves seemed clueless that they were living inside a glass ball.

  “Every year that monster tries to get us.”

  “Monster? What do you mean?” Richard asked.

  “What do you mean, what do I mean? Didn’t you see it for yourself dumb-dumb? The abominable Snowman, of course.”

  Richard fell into a hysterical laughing fit. He was rolling around on the ground clutching his stomach.

  “Well…I’m glad that you find almost being eaten alive amusing, but if you’re done making a spectacle of yourself, we got to get going. Mr. Clause does not like to wait on people.” Orin started walking away.

  Richard picked himself off the ground, still chuckling, and wiped his teary eyes on the blanket. The laughter surprisingly warmed him up and put him in a cheery mood. He wondered what Stacy was thinking at this moment. She knew he almost never left the house. Could she see him and the elves moving around in the snow globe? He guessed probably not. This had to be a dream, and a very vivid and strange one at that.

  They came upon the gate to Santa’s workshop. Orin had a quick chat with the guard and handed him the letter. The steel gates swung open and they strolled into a very busy area. Elves were gathering up reindeer and putting them into pens. Others were folding up tables and carrying some type of equipment to storage buildings. Richard spotted four hefty elves pulling a giant sleigh into a garage. He wondered if he would ever wake up.

  A normal looking two-story house stood before them. Orin marched up the front porch steps and rang the doorbell. Richard waited with anticipation for the next crazy phase of this lucid dream.

  7

  When the door opened, a curly grey-haired woman greeted them. She was a bit plump dressed in red with a fluffy white collar and sleeves. Small glasses rested on the tip of her pointy nose. Richard had read enough books and seen enough movies as a child to know that this woman had to be the one and only Mrs. Clause. She smiled gently at him and he returned the gesture with a bow. Even though he didn’t truly believe all of this was actually happening, he figured he might as well play along while he was experiencing it. Mrs. Clause welcomed them in.

  “My goodness, you must be freezing to death.” She said to Richard, “Token, go get this young man something to wear!”

  An elf that looked both old and wise hopped to his feet and scurried to a back room.

  “We’ve been waiting for you Mr. Shriver.”

  Richard was not all that shocked that Mrs. Clause knew his name. After all that had happened in this crazy dream, he wasn’t sure anything could surprise him anymore. The elf named, Token, came back with red sweat pants and a green sweater. Richard happily pulled them on. Mrs. Clause handed him a comfy pair of slippers and guided him to the living room. She excused Orin of his duties and he gladly left.

  Walking into the spacious living room, Richard noticed a plump white-bearded man rocking in a chair next to a flickering fireplace. He looked up as Richard entered and closed a thick book he had been reading. “Well, Mr. Shriver, so nice to finally meet you.”

  Richard took a seat opposite of Mr. Clause and studied the man trying to decipher if the fluffy beard was fake like all those Santa’s you see at the malls, but there was something about the twinkle in the old man’s eyes that told him this just might be the real deal.

  “I bet you’ve got all sorts of questions, but let me start by offering you a cup of hot cocoa.”

  Santa winked, and like magic, a steamy cup appeared on the table beside Richard. Just when he thought he could no longer be shocked, Mr. Clause had surprised him once again.

  “Now…That should erase any doubts you have about me.” The jolly old man chuckled and took a sip of his own cocoa. Richard reached for his cup, thinking that it might disappear before he touched it, and raised it to his lips.

  “You’re probably wondering how you ended up here and why?” Santa was staring at Richard with his hands folded over his big belly.

  “I’m having a hard time believing this is really happening.” Richard reasoned. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up soon.”

  “Well, in a sense, you are right. You will wake up from this, but not until we’ve had a chat.”

  “So I am dreaming?”

  “Not quite. What is it you want most in life Richard?”

  Richard was put off by the question but decided to answer honestly. “Well…To be a successful writer, I guess.”

  “Yes, yes. And what do you think it takes to be a successful writer?”

  “Hard work and dedication?”

  “Yes, this is true, but don’t you think there are some other elements that are involved? What does a good author do to keep you interested?”

  “I don’t know…Keep the story moving? In-depth characters? What are you getting at?”

  Mr. Clause leaned forward in his chair, “And how do you get the reader to relate to your characters?”

  “Jeez, I guess dialogue and human emotion.”

  “Exactly.” Santa sat back in his chair and looked over Richard as if waiting for a further answer.

  Richard started to feel a bit uncomfortable. “I don’t understand the point of all this?”

  “How is one able to transfer human emotion and realistic conversation onto a page if he does not experience these things himself? You have isolated yourself from all the people who love and care about you because you thought they were distractions. The truth is, in doing so; you have eliminated the heart in your writing.”

  Richard took a moment to let the words soak in. To his amazement, it made a lot of sense. He had shut out everyone, and ever since
then, his work had been a struggle. His charcters were very vague, and he always tried to pound through the story with action, but if you don’t get a sense of the people in the story, you find that you don’t much care what happens to them one way or the other. It was like being hit with a reality hammer. This was the key he had been missing all along.

  Mr. Clause, seeming to notice that he got through to him, once again leaned forward in chair. “Don’t you think it’s time to reconnect with those who care so much for you?”

  A tear ran from Richard’s eye, “Yes…Yes I do.”

  “Very well then, and a Merry Christmas to you.” Santa snapped his fingers.

  8

  Richard woke up on his apartment floor. He rubbed his eyes and looked to the clock. He was stunned that only an hour had passed in all the time he spent in the globe. The globe? He scanned the floor for it. It was nowhere to be found. He got to his feet. It wasn’t on the table either. Even the box it came in was gone. Even though this left him very curious, he knew that his experience was no dream. It was a type of Christmas magic, an awakening if you will. He was filled with extreme urgency to wish everyone and everything a Merry