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“This is amazing.”
He smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”
I wandered around the room, stroking the leather couches, inhaling the fragrance of freshly cut flowers, and glancing at the paintings on the wall. “Are these yours? I mean, did you paint them?”
“Yes. It’s a skill I’m striving to perfect. Just don’t ask me how long I’ve been striving,” he added with a chuckle.
“They’re impressive,” I told him. They were mostly still life and landscapes, but dotted here and there were self-portraits, executed in different tones of light.
The low ceiling with its dark beams interspersed with white-painted sections gave the room a feel of medieval England, right out of the history books.
Then I realized what was missing.
“We’re the only ones here.” I looked to him for confirmation.
He nodded. “Please, sit down. I need to talk to you.”
I did as he asked, and he sat beside me on the wide leather couch. His grave tone sent a shiver through me. Santa took a deep breath.
“First of all, I need to ask for your forgiveness.”
I froze. “Why? What have you done?”
He swallowed. “I lied to you.”
Now I was scared. “Go on.”
His gaze never left mine. “You asked me if I remembered being forty. Well… the truth is… no, I don’t. I have always appeared at the age you see now.”
I frowned. “But… you had to have beenborn, right?”
He shook his head. “I was created as you see me.”
“But created by whom?”
Santa smiled. “The collective consciousness of the people of your realm. They literally thought me into existence. They needed a figure whose purpose was truly good, selfless… and thus I came into being.” He paused. “You also asked if I was alone here. I lied again. Yes, there is only me here. All those gifts I deliver? I create them.”
“But how?” Then I groaned. “By magic, of course.”
He nodded.
“Was everything a lie?” My stomach was in knots.
“No. I told you I carried around my regrets, my hopes… I also told you I wanted to be happy, to be in love. Those things were all true.”
I frowned. “And Mrs. Claus?”
He smiled. “There is no Mrs. Claus. She is as big a myth as Rudolph.”
“Now, wait a minute. I’ve seen that movie. You know, the one where you’re a woodcarver, and you have a wife but no children. Then one day you get lost in a snowdrift, and these elves find you, and you—”
He burst into laughter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I wasn’t laughing, however. The idea of him living in this beautiful but lonely place made me want to weep for him. “But surely… couldn’t you have found yourself a wife inmyrealm? Someone to keep you company? I’m sure when you were created, no one decided you should spend your existence alone. That’s just… cruel.”
“Yes, Icouldhave taken a wife—if I’d wanted one.”
Lightbulb.
