Taylor Hanson did not believe in Santa Claus. After all, he was eight years old. And Isaac said Santa Claus wasn’t real. Isaac was eleven now, so he was old enough to know things like that, wasn’t he? Taylor figured maybe it was some big secret that you got to know the truth about when you were old enough.
His little brother Zac still seemed excited about Santa, though. He had happily spent the last week helping their mom hang ornaments – only the unbreakable ones, of course – and string popcorn onto garlands. Then he had run around, hanging the garlands on every available surface. He only stopped when Isaac found a garland wrapped around the neck of his guitar and went whining to their parents about it.
Altogether, the holiday was driving Taylor nuts. His mom forced him to help Jessica write a letter to Santa since she was too little to do it herself. When Jessica wasn’t looking, he threw the letter in the garbage, burying it deep below the rest of the trash so his mom wouldn’t find it either. He didn’t even think the North Pole had a post office. And if it did, it would certainly take more than a week to get Jessica’s glitter and sticker covered letter there.
When it finally rolled around, Christmas Eve was no fun either. Taylor forced down a cup of eggnog – his dad’s special recipe – and pretended to eat the cranberry sauce but really spit it back into his napkin. He didn’t even touch the sweet potato casserole.
Once dinner was finished, the family gathered around the tree to open some of the presents their family had sent over. Baby Avery wouldn’t stop crying and even the brand new pacifier didn’t seem to help. Their Gramma bought Isaac a brand new amp for his guitar and he was adding to the noise with sour notes and a horrible rendition of Rocking Robin.
Finally, Taylor ran off to the kitchen to escape it all. He scratched and picked at the new sweater Aunt Jenny had sent him. It made him feel itchy all over and he hoped his mom wouldn’t force him to wear it again. Taylor shuffled over to the fridge and pulled out a can of Dr. Pepper, hoping not to get yelled at for drinking soda so late in the evening. But everyone was so busy he didn’t think that anyone would notice. Just as he slammed the fridge door shut, a clatter of feet against the linoleum made his hair stand on end.
Zac came tumbling into the kitchen and picked up three of the plastic containers of cookies from the table. “Tay, what kind of cookies should we leave out for Santy Claus?”
Taylor told Zac he didn’t care and it was the truth. A guy who didn’t exist wouldn’t care one way or the other about chocolate chip or peanut butter. But he pulled a plate and glass out of the cabinet anyway, and poured the milk for
Zac so that he wouldn’t spill it all over the floor. Zac piled the plate full of every type of cookie they had and took off toward the living room. Taylor followed behind him, carrying the glass of milk along with his own soda.
Luckily the next present Taylor opened was a new Game Boy – Zac had dropped the last one down the stairs and broken it into what looked like a million pieces – and two new games for it. He curled up in a corner of the room and spent the rest of the night trying to rescue Princess Zelda.
When the Christmas cheer was finally all cheered out and the little ones tucked into bed, Taylor felt like he could breathe again. But maybe it was just being able to get the ugly wool sweater off that had lifted a weight off his chest. He couldn’t be sure. Even so, he couldn’t get to sleep. Zac snored loudly on the bottom bunk and the sound was more irritating every time he heard it. Slowly he crawled out from under his covers and wiggled down the ladder at the end their bunk beds, careful not to wake his brother up. It didn’t seem to disturb Zac at all and Taylor escaped from their room without making a single sound.
He tiptoed down the hallway, then took the stairs as slowly as possible, steering clear of all the spots that he knew creaked and moaned if you stepped on them the wrong way. He finally reached the living room and wasn’t at all surprised to see that the plate of cookies sat untouched. Underneath the tree was still bare, too, just as he had expected. Isaac said their parents wouldn’t get up to put the presents under the tree until they were certain all the kids were asleep. With the new baby crying and fussing, Taylor decided it would be really late before that happened.
Then he heard it.
At first he thought it was just the wind. Then it sounded like the that old tree branch that used to scrape against the roof when it stormed, until their dad got fed up with it and cut the whole tree down. The scraping, scratching sound was followed by a gentle thump, and something that sounded a lot like sleigh bells. Well, Taylor didn’t really know what sleigh bells would sound like. But he imagined it was pretty similar to any other bells, and he definitely heard a distinct tinkling, bell-like sound coming from the roof.
Another thump.
Taylor began to back out of the room, back toward the stairs. His legs were shaking.
A third thump, this one the loudest of all. It seemed to be coming from the chimney.
Taylor ran. He ran back up the stairs, not caring if he woke up everyone in the house. When he reached his bedroom, he only just managed to creep back in and not slam the door or step on any Transformers or GI Joes in the floor. Zac was still snoring away and not even Taylor stumbling up the bunk bed’s ladder seemed to disturb him.
He pulled the covers up over his head and lay as still as possible, his heart still pounding like it wanted to jump right out of his chest. He could hear the same scratching sound on the roof still, and it kind of sounded like hoofs. And very faintly, a rustling sound from downstairs that sounded like wrapping paper.
Maybe he did believe in Santa Claus after all.