“I know you’re not really Santa…”

a short story by Ernio Hernandez

“Ollo baby, it’s a long line, you sure you want to wait?” Mama asked.

A pause as Oloi looked from her mother’s eyes to the crowd of parents and kids ahead of them. Her gaze shifted toward the jolly man in a red suit fielding children’s ire and delight, sometimes both. “Yes Mama, please,” she replied, pleading into her mother’s weary eyes.

“Okay, baby, we’ll wait,” Mama let out gently through a sigh.

Last Christmas, Oloi held Papa’s hand as they scampered through the cold and windy streets. They made it into the city just as a river of rush hour commuters headed home for the night.

She had never seen such a wave of human traffic in all five years of her life. They darted upstream through muddling hordes, finally coming ashore in the warmth of the department store foyer.

Oloi marveled through her wind-teared haze at the enormity of the space. The ceiling was so lofty she could not make out where the room ended. And the grand entranceway was almost as wide and long as it was tall. Sleigh bells rung through the air as angelic choir voices echoed off the walls.

“Are you ready to see SANTA CLAUS?!” Papa said with the widest smile and eyebrows higher than she thought they could go. His joy was so welcoming, she couldn’t help but smile back and nearly shout “Yes!” though uncertain who he was talking about.

She thought of that moment now as Mama and her inched their way closer to the front. Mama knelt down beside her adjusting the bow in her hair, “You okay, sweetheart? Ready to tell Santa what you want?” Oloi softly nodded yes, “Is Papa coming?”

“Not today, love,” Mama said arching her eyebrows up, “He will see you this weekend, though.” Oloi smiled, knowing it was what her mother wanted. “We’ll go get some lunch after Santa? Maybe a special dessert too?” Oloi nodded and smiled, “Yes. Thank you, Mama.”

Back into the cold, Papa turned to face Oloi as they left the restaurant next to the department store. He looked her right in the eyes as he tucked her scarf into her winter coat hood. “You did such a great job with dinner, thank you for being Papa’s big girl. Your mama will be happy to hear you ate so well. Will you tell her all about Santa?!”

Oloi nodded and smiled, “Yes, Papa! Maybe she can come see him too!” His huge smile made his rosy cheeks seem even redder. A warm breath circled through the cold air as he let out a little laugh, “Maybe, we will see.”

As they readied to head back to the station, a loud yell cut through the wind. They turned just in time to see a large, older man lose his footing on a patch of ice and slam hard onto the pavement. Oloi and Papa froze as the man let out a weak groan. People shuffled by, taking notice of the old man’s pangs and continuing on their way.

“Come,” Papa said, taking Oloi’s hand and heading right to the man who took a spill. They reached him just as two uniformed doormen emerged from the department store. One of them shouted “Hey, take it elsewhere, pops!”

“Sir!” Papa interrupted, “this man just fell. Go find a phone and call for help.” The shouting doorman was taken aback. “Oh, s-s-s sure, sorry, yes, yes, right away,” he stuttered, looking up at Papa, and then scurried back inside.

“Olly, see that bench right inside the door?” Papa asked. “The one by the tree with lights,” pointing to it as Oloi made it out. “Yes, Papa.”

“Go inside with this gentleman…”

“Franco,” the other doorman offered.

“Go inside with Franco and sit on that bench so I can see you. I will be right there.” Papa turned to the other doorman, “Do you mind?”

“Nono, of course,” he said stretching out his gloved hand from within his overcoat. “I’ll show you where,” Franco said to Oloi.

She took his hand and shuffled out of the cold, peeking back as Papa spoke to the old man. “Hello, try not to move…” she heard her father’s voice trail off. “What’s your name, my friend?” Papa asked.

She watched from the warm comfort of the department store bench as Papa smiled and spoke with the old man. Franco sat with her, “Your father is a very nice man.” She smiled and nodded at him as the first doorman returned. “Help is on the way.”

“Ho-Ho-Ho,” belly-laughed the man in a red suit to the children leaving, “Have a Merry Christmas.”

Oloi followed his eyes as Mama walked with her to his side, “You’re up, baby.”

She watched as he turned and faced her. Their eyes met and, for a second, she wondered if he would see it on her face. “Well well, hello there. Who have we here?”

“This is Oloi, Santa,” Mama offered.

“Of course!” he replied in his bigger-than-life tone. “Come sit right here.”

Oloi climbed onto his lap and, before he could launch into his usual banter, she put her hand around her mouth to cover her whisper.

“I know you’re not really Santa…” Oloi said softly.

His eyes widened and he began to let out a laugh, but her hushed tone cut him off.

“It’s okay. I won’t say anything. I know you are just a man, but you are a nice man. You make people very happy. And that is very nice. Sometimes people forget to say thank you to nice people. And sometimes people forget to be nice people.”

The man in red pursed his upper lip and smiled with his glossy eyes.

“When I get old, I will be nice like you,” Oloi added. “Maybe I will be Santa too.”

With that, he let out a deep laughing breath. He held Oloi’s hand in his and whispered back to her through his snowy white beard, “You already are, Oloi. You are Santa.”