She purred in his ear, “Don’t. Call. Me. Honey bottoms. Ever.” And with a snide smirk, she added, “Was that a good whamming, lemon cake?”
Rhys rubbed his face. There was no blood. Nadie wanted to beat sense into him, not crap out of him. “OK, I deserved the knuckle sandwich and the insult! But do it again and I’ll have to retaliate!”
“Bring it on, doofball!” she struck her fighting pose.
“Na-uh! That’s not what I meant!”
“Backing up already? You’re a Christmas turkey! Hundred percent chicken!”
“You’re the Grinch! Stealing Christmas from everyone because you don’t want to share in the fun!”
“Yeah? Whoever Grinch is, he’s my kind of guy!”
“He’s green! And furry! And really, really mean!”
“Who are you calling green and furry?!”
“No! I’m just saying... Forget it! You wanna have a fight?! Save your strength for bringing down the guy doing this to us!”
“Now you’re talking! But you’re gonna apologise for calling me green when we’re through with this!”
Nadie rushed forward, reinvigorated by the exchange. Rhys followed close behind. A guy called Michael George, or some such, kept pouring out his heart and soul above and around them. Now it was something about keeping the distance from the person who had hurt him. And failing to forget that person.
Nadie was a proactive kind of gal so she covered her ears, but it was too late. The song burrowed deep into her brain and deployed grappling hooks. She would have it on internal repeat for days. Thanks very much, Rhys! she thought.
She looked back at her Captain and got to wondering: wasn’t the song talking about them? What did they have between them? Were they together or apart? Obviously, they were still attracted to each other but he was such a goofball male, she didn’t know if she could take his silliness long term. All the signs showed that she couldn’t.
There she was, analysing her relationship with a guy 10 years her senior based on the lyrics of a Christmas slop. Michael George had succeeded in messing with her head.
But Rhys was thinking along similar lines, she was sure of it. When they reached the doors to their respective quarters—Rhys’ on the right, Nadie’s on the left—they had a moment of staring in each other’s eyes. George had just mentioned new kissing, new fooling…
Something happened inside the navigator. Warmth spilled all over her gut. She felt a tingling at the back of her head and some lightness in her legs. It was this stupid song, and this silly man before her with his strong jaw and deep grey eyes looking right inside her, stirring something. She was melting like a heated icicle.
Nadie was ready for something to happen. Anything really. But he just stood and watched her, undecided. Was he going to make a move? If he waited one more line, she would take things in her own hands. They went through a rough patch lately but reconciliation was now firmly on the cards...
The chorus came and went before they knew. Rhys blinked, shook his head. The magic was gone. Nadie furrowed her brow as he said:
“OK, get your blasters and go the long route to cut off their exit. I’ll pick up my gun and some smoke grenades and check the other cargo bay. Remember, if you spot anyone, shoot to stun. We’re not killers. And we want information.”
Nadie grunted, nodded, turned around and burst into her room. It was just like Rhys to ruin the charm. She stomped and huffed as she went to pick up her weapons from a footlocker. The song kept playing loud. Her chin kept bobbing to the beat on its own volition as her mind imagined burning out holes in some shadow of an enemy. The unhelpful Michael George was hiding from the crass woman and her soul of ice even as Nadie strapped her twin blasters to her waist.
She paused. Was that how Rhys felt about her? He kept calling her the ice queen all the time. Maybe it was her fault they couldn’t stay on the same page for longer than a short spell? She was too jaded, didn’t let anything get to her. Like this Christmas thing. It was important to Rhys, and to others too. Why couldn’t she just give in and try to have some fun with it?
No. This was her, as broken as she might be, and she wasn’t gonna change for... what? A chance at love? She scoffed into the empty room. Love was a pipe dream.
She rose up. Even with the music on loud, she could hear a stir. It was a loud rumble coming from inside her closet. She prowled to the closed beige door, one weapon held tight in front of her face. In one swift motion, she slid the closet open... and froze, baffled by what she saw.
Standing in the cramped space was some sort of pot-bellied clown in a ridiculous red getup complete with black boots and a straight red hat crowned by a fluffy white pom-pom. He had a large snowy beard and frayed moustache like an old-aged bush rambler. His hands were the size and fleshiness of giant peaches and one of them was grasping a piece of Nadie’s wardrobe—a grey sock. The other hand stopped halfway to dropping a red-and-white candy stick in it.
He was heavy, but not very tall, with the hat adding him height. His nose was big, round, with a tint of ripe cherry, and his eyes at this moment were two enlarged saucers focusing on her, with panic dancing across them. The clown was stuck in a ridiculous pose, trying not to breathe and not to move. Behind him, a shelf full of Nadie’s clothes was lying on the ground. The intruder must have caused it to collapse from the wall and this was the source of the mighty noise which drew the navigator’s attention.
Nadie woke up from the shock and shifted her gun to aim at the man’s sizeable belly. “Who in space are you and what are you doing rummaging in my closet?”
The intruder came alive with a broad and twinkly smile. He said in an energetic, booming voice, “Ho, ho, hello! You can see me?” He dropped what he was holding and did the sort of hand waving in front of her eyes a person does when he believes no one can see him.
“Sure I can see you. Your cloaking device must be broken,” she gestured all over his strange costume with the blaster. “Hands up where I can see them!”
The bizarre man put them in the air, but his mind was on something else. “Of course you can see me! The law of double negatives!”
“The what?”
“I don’t want you to see me. And you don’t want to see me too. Two minuses give a plus! And you’re such non-believer in Christmas, your mind is actively looking for all signs of magic so it can debunk them! And I am magic personified!”
“It seems magic has been grossly overrated. What you’re saying doesn’t make any sense, old man. Step out of there. Slowly. Tell me who you are and what you were doing with my things.” Nadie took a couple steps back to give him room. Her gun was ready to shoot a stun beam.
The clown followed her out of the closet. “I was looking for your socks so I could fill them with candy, of course. Everyone else hung them up on their walls like nice people do. It’s just you giving me some trouble. So I had to go on a little search, you see.”
“Oh, I see indeed. You’re a perv who goes through people’s clothes. Uh-uh! Keep them up!”
But the stranger dropped the hands to his sides, calm as a plump Christmas robin. “I really don’t have time for this. It’s been a long night. I’ve already done the rounds on Earth and everywhere between there and wherever here is. Do you know how difficult it is to find a single little ship in the whole wide space? More difficult than a needle in a haystack, ho, ho, ho!” He grabbed his belly as it shook with laughter. “I still have three colonies and four outposts to visit. So I’m afraid I can’t stay long.”
“Who are you?
“Haven’t you figured it out yet? The reindeer, the sleigh, my clothes?”
“So it was you. You came in through the hatch.”
“Ho, ho, that was me. Quite a neat trick, isn’t it? Usually, I enter through the chimney. Alas, this quaint lovely little ship has none. So I had to improvise a bit. My reindeer did a grand job guiding the sleigh through that one. I thought we were going to get stuck. Worse, I thought we would lose some presents! This remin
ds me of that time we went looking for a kid on a submarine in the bottom of the Arctic Ocean—”
“You’re still not making any sense, old man. It’s you who brought the sleigh in? You put that oversized plant in our kitchen?”
“Yes, ho, ho, ho! I’m quite proud of this one. A magnificent tree. And the present for Henrietta. Sweet, sweet girl. Not so little, mind you, she’s already twenty, but she still sees things through the eyes of an innocent child. She still believes in me, Christmas bless her. She’s the reason I had to come all the way here. Santa never leaves good children behind.”
“Hetty’s not a child.”
“It’s about what’s in your heart, not in your head, or anywhere else.”
Nadie nodded slowly. She was grasped by absolute dismay at the load of rubbish this guy was pushing. Although he was spot on with Hetty. That brat was too old for the childlike things she kept on doing. “I’ll be sure to tell her you were here. Right after I pack you back in your sleigh and chuck you off the ship. Again, tell me who you are before I zap you.”
The pompishly-dressed stranger’s smile stretched so wide, Nadie was afraid he would open his head and gobble her up when the terror of the view struck her. Somehow, he remained intact. “I am known by many names. Santa Claus, Saint Nick, Father Christmas. And that’s just in one language, ho, ho! I’m known by a thousand names all over the world... Well, I should say worlds, shouldn’t I? I’m still adjusting to this whole space flight business.”
“OK, Mr. Claus. Be like that, I don’t care. Turn around and walk. I’m taking you straight to a cell until you sober up and tell me who you really are and what you were doing here before I caught you. And I promise you, I won’t wait until next Noel to find out.”
“Ho, ho, ho! You are fierce! But what you’re proposing would put you straight on my naughty list, little Nadie.”
Nadie blinked. She never blinked when she aimed guns at someone. But this time she did. “How do you know my name?”
“I know a lot of things! Come, little Nadie. Come closer and tell me what you want to get this Christmas.”
“I’m not playing that game, you old perv. Hands up or you get one on the nose.”
“You surely want something. Everyone wants something.”
Nadie didn’t wait with her answer. She knew what her top wish was. “You make wishes come true, right? I wish you shut up, collect all your silly geegaws and get off this ship right now. I don’t even care what you call yourself anymore. Just go.”
The Santa impostor kept smiling. There was no wearing him down, Nadie surmised. Maybe he was hooked on mind-altering drugs. Maybe he was a certified lunatic. There was some logical explanation for what he was doing. Something else than being Santa.
The clown gave another bellyful of laughter. “Ho, ho, ho! That is not what you really want, my dear.” He leaned closer and pointed at her chest. “What you really want is deep inside your heart. Let’s see...”
His index finger shot out with a strange white, glittering beam. It was faster than any laser Nadie knew. Before the thought to press the trigger travelled from her brain to her hand, the energy went painlessly through her breast and swirled inside her, covering her heart with a snuggle. An instant feeling of warmth and joy overpowered her. Without a conscious thought, she was smiling and pointing her guns to the floor.
The reality started to dance and swirl around her. From nowhere, a big snowy whirlwind came and swept across her living quarters, making them disappear completely. She felt like she was flying to somewhere far away with the old bearded man alongside her. But her feet were standing firmly on the floor. The music died and all she could hear were hearty ho hos of the Santa.
In less time than it takes to drink a quarter of a cup of steaming hot cocoa on a breezy night, she was standing in the middle of a busy city street. People walked past glitzy storefronts. Festive lights strewn between lampposts were glowing and flashing. One or two holographic projections lured visitors to come and stay, but all in all, it was a very old-fashioned Christmas on the high street.
Nadie knew where she landed. It was Australia, and people of these particular parts of the country took new things slow.
In the middle of the street, a brass band in navy blue uniforms played traditional carols to the people passing by. They were soppy, but they had no Last Christmas on offer or anything of the sort. A woman stood beside the players with a big placard up. The sign said: Salvation Army, and some charitable cause handwritten below. Some of the people tossed small money chips into two metal collection boxes.
The weather was unusually hot for this time of year. No one was wearing a coat. Scarves, hats and gloves were banished.
“I... I know this place,” Nadie managed to whisper as she took in the whole sight around her.
“Do you? That’s good because I have absolutely no idea where we are,” the man who called himself Santa admitted.
“You don’t? But you brought me here.”
“Yes, but it was your heart who did the driving. I’m just the big wonky trolleybus.”
“Trolley what?” She’d never heard the word.
“A kind of bus that runs on overhead electricity.” He saw that she wasn’t with him on that one. “It doesn’t matter if I’m a hot air balloon or a dinghy. What I’m trying to say is this: your heart is your guide on this journey. It wanted you to see this. I’m just an innocent bystander who took you here against your free will.”
“OK, one thing you’re not delusional about. This is kidnapping. I don’t wanna be here,” she said. The snuggly feeling was gone like it never had been there and Nadie felt something directly opposite to calm. She was angry. This was some deliberate con trick. “I don’t know how you produced this hallucination but I want nothing to do with it. Take me back.”
She trained her blasters at the man again. Only she had no blasters anymore. Her hands were empty.
“Hey! What did you do with my guns?”
“Nothing. Your heart must think you won’t need them here.”
“My heart is just a muscle. It doesn’t think and it doesn’t take away my stuff. Never mind, I can take you down without them, old man.”
She put up her fists. The Santa raised his big hands too but in a conciliatory gesture. “Ho, ho, ho, little Nadie. Calm down, please. It’s Christmas, a time of goodwill and people coming together. Let’s not ruin it with hate and violence. Instead, why don’t you show me around… Where are we, again?”
“Perth. It’s Perth.”
“Is it? That explains this dreadful heat.” The Santa took off his hat. Thick white hair streamed down below his shoulders. “I really shouldn’t have done that. Merry will tell me off for looking all scraggly on the Big Night. You work one night in the year, Mister Claus, and still you can’t do it properly! But it’s just so hot in here. Ho, ho, ho, it must be above a hundred degrees!”
“Who’s Merry?” Nadie asked. She didn’t really care but somehow the question jumped out of her.
“Why, she’s my darling wife, of course.”
“You mean Merry Christmas?”
“Don’t be silly!” the Santa laughed it off. “Christmas is her maiden name. She’s been Merry Claus for, like, a hundred years maybe? Those name changes are so confusing. They come about every century or so. I get lost without a map. But not my Merry, oh no. She has a knack for remembering things and she’s an angel of a woman. I can’t really be associated with anyone whose name lands on the naughty list, if you catch my drift?”
He winked at her. Nadie would have felt violated by any other man. But this one seemed more ridiculous than dangerous. He was hopelessly lost in this belief that he was the real Santa Claus.
“Do you think I am naughty?” she asked him just for kicks.
“I think you are a work in progress, Nadine Chu. But we can still bring out the good kid in you. On this night, everything is possible.”
“You are good at this. But seriously, who are you?”
“I told you who I am. Do you want to hear another name? How about… Kris Kringle.”
“Never heard that one before.”
“Oh, good. I never liked that one anyway. Let me see… What will you say about Bishop Nicholas of Myra? That’s one of the oldest and certainly the most official name I can come up with. But you, little Nadie, can simply call me Nick.”
“All right… Nick. I’m not so little anymore, as you can see. I can hold my own against a holo projection. I’m sure we’re still inside my quarters. All I have to do is find the projector and disable it, right?”
“I can’t tell you what to think. Go and have a look around for yourself.”
“I will, but only because you’re not cooperating. I’ll find that projector and then we’ll go and see the Captain.”
Nadie took a single step. The ground below her seemed to be made of firm concrete. She tried not to show Nick how relieved she was that she did not fall down in some unseen pit. Everything seemed so real—crisp air, approaching night, the smells of baked bread and scented candles.
She walked forward without a set plan. Her feet took her towards the orchestra.
“Ah, nothing like good old festive music to warm up the soul,” Nick said, wiping off sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Nadie couldn’t tell how he made it to the front of the players before she was there. He was faster than she thought. Or he knew shortcuts through the projection.
She ignored his remark because her focus wondered elsewhere, to a pair of adults, dark-haired and wearing plain white clothes. The man held a young girl by the hand. The woman strode with a sense of dignity. They were all of Asian origin.
“That’s impossible,” Nadie gave words to her doubts.
“Everything is possible on the night before Christmas,” Nick said.
“Not this.”
Nadie couldn’t move. She wasn’t paralysed or restrained, and yet her legs wouldn’t budge from where she stood. As she watched, the family of three approached the playing orchestra. Yawen Chu was as calm as she remembered. Her husband, Chunwei Chu, was tired but determined to continue the walk. Their child, on the other hand, was a vision of worry. Nadie looked at the cloud shrouding the young face and remembered.
Christmas on the Anvil Page 3