SAINT NIC'S DAY JOB

SAINT NIC’S DAY JOB

A Short Story

　

It was a mild, mid-October day when he arrived early at the apartment building with the intent to complete a job before the first wave of amicable, but sometimes interruptive, inquisitors showed up. Though Doc cherished the unabashed, unpretentious and inquiring minds these preschool and kindergarten children had the work he needed to do required a certain degree of concentration.

Although the task itself was relatively easy for him it meant leaning against the top rung of a six foot tall A-frame ladder while he removed the sixteen older courtyard light fixtures and replaced them with new, longer lasting LED fixtures. Moving as quickly as he safely could Doc managed to install fourteen of the newer lights before he heard someone tapping on the ladder. Glancing down he saw two of the young kids, a boy and girl, standing at the base of the ladder as they stared up at him.

"What are you doing, Mr. Doc?" the girl asked.

He recognized her because he had been sent to this older building a number of times to perform various electrical repairs or upgrades and had made the personal effort learn the names of as many of the tenants as possible.

"Well, Miss Sofia, I’m replacing the old lights with new ones so you can see better at night."

"That’s Richie, my new best friend from school. He just moved here," Sofia offered Doc as she pointed to the rather shy boy.

"Hi, Richie," Doc responded with a warm smile.

"Hi," Richie mumbled.

"He’s a nice man," Sofia told Richie as she tugged on his sleeve to lead him away.

 

While Doc focused on removing the old fixture at least eight parents entered the courtyard with the children they had just picked up from preschool or kindergarten. As the children laughed and chased each other most of the adults mingled around the large, long, built-in planter that bisected the common ground floor area of the building, though three of the mothers sat on the inlaid brick top of the planter near where he was working, talking to each other as they watched him. After Doc had stepped down from the ladder to relocate it to under the last fixture Sofia showed up again, this time with three more of her schoolmates or friends from the complex.

"I told everyone what you’re doing so you don’t have to keep telling us," Sofia told him.

 

"Thank you. You’re a real wonder Miss Wonder Woman," Doc replied with a grin.

"Why does he have that hair on his face?" wondered one of the kids as he spoke to Sofia.

"He’s Carlos. He just moved here last week and he likes to ask questions," Sofia informed Doc.

"No, I’m Batman," Carlos insisted while trying to mimic a deep sounding voice.

"Well, Mr. Batman, maybe the reason why I have these whiskers is because I’m Santa Claus," Doc suggested with the first whimsical answer he could think of.

"No, you’re not."

"How do you know I’m not?"

Sofia, Lucy and David giggled at Carlos and when he chased them down the path Doc seized the chance to scale the ladder to remove the last older fixture. But by the time he had stepped back onto the walkway all of the kids were waiting behind him because had Sofia likely alerted them.

"You can’t be Santa. You’re skinny and he’s fat," Diego announced with assurance.

"Muy gordo," Lupe added with an obvious smirk.

The three mothers sitting on the bricked top of the planter chuckled at the sudden exchange of words and, knowing Doc loved to joke around with the adults and tease the children, started paying close attention because they were curious how he would respond next.

"Well, Diego, my miniature amigo, if you guys will let me finish doing my job I’ll tell you all how Santa can sometimes be skinny, sometimes be fat. Can you wait?" Doc pleaded to buy time.

 

Although several of the kids did so reluctantly they all nodded and backed away long enough to let him finish. Then, as he stood on the path again they quickly came forward.

"Oh, no, I’m not finished yet. I still have to fold the ladder, put my stuff back in the tool box and carry the old lights and empty cardboard boxes out to the trash bins," Doc reminded them.

"We’ll all help, " Sofia exclaimed suddenly.

He watched as the kids gathered up as many of the older fixtures and empty boxes as they could carry and head to the dumpsters at the back of the parking lot and he silently thanked Sofia for the reprieve and hoped some day she would become the public leader she seemed born to be.

"What are you going to come up with now, smarty?" a woman’s voice nearby asked him as Doc placed his tool pouch in the bottom of the box.

Doc looked over to Maria, Sofia’s mother, an educated woman who worked as a part time accountant so she could pick up her daughter from school.

"Maria, I’ll figure something out, but I don’t think the kids would have understood I started growing my beard because one day years ago I simply got tired of shaving," he jokingly confessed as they watched the children return to the courtyard long enough to gather up the rest of the discarded work debris.

"Should we video this for Face Book?" Mateo’s mother Alma offered in jest.

With his hand tools back in their trays Doc joined the three mothers sitting on the planter top and waited for the kids, a wait that proved to be less than a minute long.

"You guys know it’s very cold up at the North Pole, right?" he asked them collectively as they surrounded him in a semi-circle. When they nodded yes, Doc continued, "Well, Santa has to stay fat living up there to stay warm and eating all that whale blubber helps him stay extra fat."

"Blubber?" Val queried him.

"That’s what they eat up there. That and polar bears," Sofia answered.

 

"But not Eskimo Pies. They make Santa even colder. But about Santa getting skinny, maybe he lives down here during the summer and when he works out in the hot sun the sweat makes him lose the fat," Doc improvised.

"But why does Santa have to work?" Mateo wondered.

"Does your dad work?" Doc replied with a question.

"He fixes cars at a garage," Mateo answered with pride.

"Would he work there if they didn’t pay him?"

"Course not."

"Well, Santa has to make money, too."

"But you have those little guys making all the toys," Lucy protested.

"They’re elves," Daniel quickly corrected her.

"That’s right. Santa works to pay the elves for their work, right," Doc countered.

"I guess," Mateo admitted.

"But you’re not really Santa. If you are where is that thing Santa keeps in his mouth, the one like Frosty has?" Val cross-examined him.

Doc thought to himself she’s going to a future attorney as he pointed to the top tray of his still open tool box where he keeps his tobacco pipe. When Lupe picked it up to show the others two of the kids laughed at Val.

"Don’t make fun of Valerie. She’s smart and she’s right." Doc told them. "And I didn’t say I was Santa, did I? I said what if I was."

"But you could be Santa and if you are I want a pony for Christmas," Lucy stated earnestly.

"And I want a new truck like the one my uncle Juan has," Diego added.

"One at a time. Let’s start with Lucy. You know, I love those My Little Ponies.

 

They’re so cute."

"Not a toy. I want a real pony," Lucy informed him.

"Miss Lucy Garza, you live upstairs in #211. How are you going to get him up and down those stairs?" Doc questioned her request sensibly.

"I’ll teach him to climb the stairs."

"So you’re going to keep him in your room, right?" Doc asked and when she nodded yes, he continued. "You ever see little kitty or doggie poop?" When she nodded again Doc made a small circle with his thumb and forefinger. "It’s about this size. But pony poop is as big as a flat soccer ball. Who’s going to clean up that really big and stinky pony poop when he poops on your carpet? You or your Momma?"

"No way," Lucy’s mother yelled from perhaps ten yards away.

"Then I want one of those new Barbie Frida dolls."

"I like Frida Kahlo, too. If I weren’t an old man I would want one." Then he addressed Diego. "Diego, the elves can’t make real trucks up at the North Pole. They can just make toy ones."

"Because Santa can’t fit them in his slay. I know that because I'm not a little kid and I was just joking," Diego responded.

"And it’s better that you tell your folks what you want for Christmas because even if I were Santa I’m so old I forget things all the time."

"You’re older than my grandpa and he forgets everything except when he needs to poop," Lupe laughed.

"And your grandpa don’t make ca-ca as big as pony ca-ca," Daniel added and, perhaps because he was getting bored, headed to the back of the complex where the kids all leaned their scooters and bicycles against the wall.

 

Within seconds the others followed him.

"Nice comeback. But what do you want Santa to bring you, Mr. Doc," Maria teased him as they watched the kids mounting their courtyard transportation.

"Better jokes," Doc answered after a split-second consideration.

"Don’t think even he can help you out. You better hire better writers!"