The Santa Hoax

by Francis Gideon

  “A few,” Josie said. “But a career isn’t always a dream. Some people want a family, and the job is a piece that lets them get that. You know?”

  “I guess.”

  Josie shifted, drawing her attention toward Julian again. “So it’s your turn now. I answered your ramblings, now you answer mine. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  Julian laughed, then figured his actual answer couldn’t hurt. “When I was a kid, I used to want to be a robot. Ridiculous, huh?”

  “Nah,” Josie said. “But failing that?”

  “Failing what? One day, the machines will rise,” Julian joked. When Josie didn’t understand sci-fi or had little patience for it in that moment, Julian added, “I used to want to be my dad.”

  “Be like him? What does he do? Oh, wait…. Maria told me, I think. He’s the town council guy, right? She wants to petition him for a lower rate in rent.” Josie laughed, as if it were the funniest thing.

  “You should do that. I think Maria protesting would be interesting,” Julian said, then quickly changed the topic before his mind focused on Maria too much. “But not a politician, no.”

  “Then what? Tell me. I won’t judge. I have Maria as a cousin too. I’ve probably heard a lot of strange things, you know.”

  Julian’s mind suddenly went blank. He could not think of the proper word or job description. All he had were adjectives and things that his family used to do. “You know how dads dress up as Santa every year?”

  “Mine didn’t, but yes, I am aware of this practice.”

  “I wanted—still want—to do that. Not be Santa, but….”

  “Be the person that bears gifts?” she suggested when Julian trailed off. “Well, I think you’re getting there. It was you who came up with this Secret Santa thing.”

  “Yeah. I guess that’s right.” Julian shrugged. “So, I guess you have homework to do, right? Should I leave you to it?”

  The change of subject made Josie flinch slightly. “Yes, since I’m not in Finland yet, it will take me a while.”

  “Do you mind if I stay?”

  “It’s a free country,” she said. “At least for now.”

  “Thanks.” Julian got up from the seat in search of his own books. When he found I, Robot without even thinking about it, he figured it was good enough. Josie noticed the title as he sat back down but only smiled.

  After an hour of reading, it was completely dark outside. Josie shut her math textbook with a sudden snap, making Julian jump.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’m used to being in a louder space.”

  Julian shrugged, then realized the time on one of the wall clocks. “When do you have to be back?”

  “I don’t,” Josie said. “At least not for a while. And I think Maria and whoever is leftover at our house is going to be there for a while.”

  “Do you two share a room?”

  Josie gave Julian a little squint, as if she were trying to figure out how he knew this fact if he had never gone upstairs.

  “Three adults,” Julian explained. “Your house is big, but it seems like it would be hard to get private space.”

  “Oh yeah. What about you? Where do you live?”

  Julian made a motion with his hand to signal around the block from the library. Josie lifted her eyebrows.

  “You don’t talk much, do you? About personal things, I mean.”

  “I don’t really have much to say.”

  “I think you’re still lying to me, but I get it.” Josie piled up her books in front of her and then narrowed her eyes. “But since I showed you my house, you should show me yours.”

  Julian considered this. When he realized his mom was probably the only one home now, and most likely procrastinating by baking, he figured it was a good idea.

  “Sure. I think my mom may have even made cookies.”

  “MOM?” JULIAN called out. He could already detect the hint of cinnamon in the air. He kicked off his shoes, Josie following behind him. “Hey, Mom?”

  “Sweetheart, I’m working,” she said from the living room. “There are cookies on the counter, if you want. Dinner will be soon but later than usual because of your dad. I hope that’s okay.”

  Julian appeared around the corner, noting the pile of cookies on the counter, then by his mother’s textbooks. She glanced up to greet Julian, then noticed Josie in his shadow. Sarah combed her hair behind her ears in an attempt to make her work-weary self look a little better.

  “Oh. Hello. I’m Sarah, Julia’s mom. You would be?”

  “Josie.”

  “Nice to meet you. Are you two doing homework?”

  Julian nodded before Josie could answer. “Yep. So don’t mind us. We won’t bother you.”

  Sarah smiled weakly, then returned to her notes. As Julian stepped into the kitchen, Josie tugged on his sleeve.

  “You sure it’s okay I’m here? We won’t disturb her?”

  “Nah. I could bring a bulldozing crew in and she’d keep on working.”

  Josie’s brown eyes went wide, and she let out a low whistle. “I wish I had that kind of determination.”

  “Trust me. You’re doing just fine.”

  After grabbing a couple of cookies and drinks, Julian took Josie upstairs to his room. When he noticed Josie dragging behind, he realized she was looking at the photos on the wall.

  “Is this you?” she said, pointing to the one with Julian in the collared shirt with long hair.

  “Yeah. Earlier this year. Before I really knew you, I guess.”

  Josie looked at Julian, then back at the photo. His skin grew hot, wondering what thoughts seemed to cross her mind. After a moment she followed him, leaving the picture behind as she stepped into Julian’s room.

  “Sit wherever you want,” he said. “There’s really only one chair.”

  She moved down to the bed and placed her bag on the floor. Julian smiled, glad she was making herself at home. And because she was relaxed, Julian found himself feeling better too. He sat on his bed without a second thought, passing what he had left of the cookies over to her.

  “Too much,” she said. “They’re really good, though.”

  “Thanks. Mom’s home recipe. She actually memorized it, so she can make them in a flash between study breaks. And just in time for the holidays too,” he said. He ate one more before placing what was left on his bedside table. When Josie lay down on the bed, her arms folded behind her, Julian followed. They stared at the ceiling for a while, letting the silence—that wasn’t awkward, Julian noted, for once—pass between them.

  “You ever have cookies for Santa?” Josie asked. “At night?”

  “Sure. Sometimes we had carrots too. You know, for the reindeer.”

  “We had saltines one year.” Josie laughed at this and then ran her hands through her hair. “My mom said it was so Santa could watch his figure. We just forgot to buy cookies.”

  “That makes perfect sense, though. He shouldn’t really have all that sugar, with the diabetes and all.”

  “Oh yeah. Of course.” Josie rolled her eyes. “More like my mom was getting sick of lying to her kids and wanted to drop the charade.”

  “When did you stop believing?” Julian asked. “In Santa?”

  “When I was about seven. Long before the saltines incident.”

  “Why?”

  “We barely got any presents one year. Just a card and one toy. I figured Santa had to be a dick if he didn’t want to give me what I asked for. Then I realized there was a simple equation that I was missing. Gifts are money, money is what those other families make, and that year, we were not lucky enough to have it. This whole good/bad dilemma of being a kid for the rest of the year was something to scare rich kids. Not me. No offense, of course.”

  “None taken. I know what you mean, though. Sometimes my dad does charity drives.”

  “That’s nice for your dad,” Josie said.

  She didn’t say much else afterward, and Julian began to understand the feeble way i
n which his words affected her. He mumbled an apology.

  “Don’t worry,” Josie said, turning over to prop herself up on her elbow. “It’s not your fault Santa’s a capitalist.”

  Julian laughed.

  “Now your turn,” she said. “How did you stop believing?”

  Julian shrugged. The familiar sensation of dread in the pit of his stomach returned. He wanted to push it away but didn’t this time. For once. “When I was younger, I realized my dad was dressing up as Santa. I saw his watch—the watch my mom had given him that year, complete with engraving—and I realized that he was pretending to be Santa. When I asked him about it later, pointing out the watch, he couldn’t lie to me. He told me it was just a game and that everyone, really, was pretending to be Santa. It was supposed to be fun, but the presents stopped appearing under the tree as marked from Santa that year.”

  “That’s kind of sad,” Josie said.

  “You didn’t get presents!” Julian said. “I still got them. They were just marked from Mom and Dad after that. I’m just… whining here.”

  “Hey, this isn’t the Oppression Olympics. That sucks for you because it was your actual belief being challenged and taken away. Mine was just about money. I knew I was in the right. But you just felt… slighted, I guess. You didn’t have a choice to believe anymore, whereas I just thought Santa was a dick before I figured it out. Am I making sense?”

  “I guess so. I was like, eleven, so really, it was about time for me too.”

  “Yeah, I guess most kids become little detectives then and try to figure it out. I mean, if it takes Jules Verne to get around the world in eighty days, then Santa in one night is ridiculous.”

  Julian smiled. “I like that book.”

  “You like every book.”

  “No, I really like that author too. Jules. It’s kind of like my name.”

  “Ah, yeah, I see that. Jules and Julia. Makes sense.”

  Julian paused. His list came back to him in his mind. Three people. Tell three people and then it’s real. Then you won’t have to stop believing if you look too closely. Mr. Singer was almost there, but maybe Josie could be his first real one.

  “No, not Julia. I… I always wished my name was Julian. That way, people calling me Jules will think of Jules Verne. And I could be a sci-fi writer, instead of a robot.”

  “Oh. Oh.” Josie paused, her mind seeming to put the pieces into place as Julian privately hoped for the best in his mind. “Wait. Why don’t you dress like you did in your school picture?”

  “Because I hated the hair,” Julian said. “I hate long hair so much. It looks good on you or Maria or Hannah, but not on me.”

  “No, I meant the shirt. I’ve never seen you in a collared shirt before. It looked like it belonged to a suit.”

  “Yeah!” Julian said.

  After getting off his bed, he moved to his closet and dug out the full suit from the back. He held it up to show Josie, who grinned.

  “Yeah, that! Why don’t you wear that anymore? You would look good in it.”

  “Because everyone thinks girls shouldn’t wear suits,” Julian said, then took a breath. “But I’m not a girl.”

  “Oh. Oh,” Josie repeated. “I get it.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, I think so, anyway. Hold on a sec.”

  Julian’s heart skipped as Josie got off the bed and walked out of his room, pulling the door shut behind her. What have I done? Is she gone now—and going to tell the whole school about me?

  A knock quieted his thoughts. He knew it was Josie on the other side of his bedroom door, but why was she doing this? He walked over and opened the door. She stood outside with a smile on her face.

  “Hello,” she greeted. “Now, pretend you’ve never met me before and you could introduce yourself all over again. But this time, we’re like—in a Renaissance fair. Yeah. So, if I tell you I’m Josie Morales, fourteen years old, and here playing a duchess, how do you answer?”

  “Hello,” Julian said, stepping forward to meet the hand Josie stuck out. “I’m Julian Gibson, fifteen years old, and here playing a duke. Or a prince. Or something. Anything.”

  “So long as it’s a guy?”

  Julian nodded, repeating feebly. “So long as it’s a guy.”

  “Then it’s nice to meet you, Julian,” Josie said, shaking his hand.

  When she sat back down on the mattress and then began to talk animatedly about really going to a Renaissance fair because she was super into dragons, obviously, Julian couldn’t say anything in return. All he could do was listen as his mind still adjusted to what had happened. There was no drama. Nothing like that at all.

  And now he was halfway there.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “JULIA?” SARAH called from the other room. Julian lifted his earbuds out of his ears and strained to hear his mother calling him again. “Julia? Phone for you.”

  Julian looked down at his cell in his pocket first, only to realize his mother was holding the cordless phone. She extended her hand from her workstation, her brows furrowed in concentration.

  “Please take this so I can get back to work.”

  “Right. Sorry.” Julian placed the phone to his ear as he headed back into his bedroom. “Who is this?” The clicking of gum and the distinct twang to the “Hello, sweetheart!” told him it was Maria right away. His heart thudded; then he let out a sigh. “How did you even get my number?”

  “There is a wonderful thing called the Internet, my dear.”

  “It’s on the Internet?” Julian asked. “How did that even happen?”

  “Your dad’s a public figure. You ask enough people and you find what you’re looking for.”

  “Oh,” Julian said. It was Saturday, so his father was finally home for once. The last place Julian had seen him was on the couch, listening to a podcast by Rachel Maddow or one of the other US newscasters, most likely snoozing while his mother continued to obsess over biology. “Well, that’s interesting. I’ll let him know.”

  “Ugh. I didn’t call to talk about your dad.”

  “So why did you call?”

  “It’s gonna snow tonight. Like, big storm. And the snow is gonna stick. So I was thinking of going for a walk—you know, to look at Christmas lights as well.”

  “Really?” Though it was well into December now, the tree wasn’t up at home and probably wouldn’t be for at least a week. Julian looked out the window in his bedroom, spying a few stray bulbs on his neighbor’s house. The guy across the street also seemed to be rooting around in his garage to prepare the rest of his house. “Is this what you want to do for the next gift exchange? Go on a decorations walk?”

  “No, it’s what I want to do with you.”

  “Oh.” Julian dropped the curtain and moved to his bed. “Just me?”

  “Are you acting deliberately dense?” she asked him. “Of course just you. I was thinking you and I could maybe get some nice and tacky Christmas sweaters so we’d be warm as we walked around. Wouldn’t that be hysterical?”

  “I guess. I don’t want glitter on mine, though.”

  “Well, now you’re just no fun. But I still want to go out with you.”

  Julian repeated the words go out in his mind like an echo. A date? Or just as friends? He couldn’t even bear to ask that question because it would mean finding out the answer.

  “So what do you say?” Maria asked again, her voice thin and urgent. “Yes to me trying to steal you away from your homework or whatever it is you do at night?”

  “I don’t do anything,” he said, closing the fridge. “Except maybe listen to music.”

  “Even more of a reason, then! Come out for a walk with me. We can listen to music there too. I’m assuming you have an iPod?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, then….” There was a muffled sound on the other end, a hand covering the receiver and some words exchanged back and forth. When Maria came back, she sighed. “I’ve been informed that Josie would also like to co
me on this adventure. Because of that, I may ask Davis to come as well, just to even things up a bit.”

  Julian could hear Josie protest in the background about Davis, which was soon quieted by Maria—most likely throwing her hands in the air and muttering for Josie to “Suck it up.” Julian listened to their chatter for a few moments longer before Maria came back on the line.

  “All right. It’s settled. Davis and Josie, then you and me. No sweaters, though. Not right now, at least. You in?”

  “Okay,” Julian said, glancing out the window again to watch his neighbor put up a glowing red Santa. “That sounds really good, actually. And I know the best neighborhood for lights too.”

  “AREN’T YOU taking your scarf?” Damien asked, leaning against the door. Julian was in the middle of tying up his Converse shoes, his jacket only halfway zipped. “If you’re not taking a hat, then I want you to take a scarf.”

  Julian nodded. Hats were bad—they put too much emphasis on his face, and in the winter, when his cheeks got red really fast, he looked too feminine. He’d rather freeze, or better yet, stay inside, than have that happen. But a scarf was good. It was something he could wind around his ears if he got too cold and pretend it was a tie. He grabbed the dark blue scarf his aunt had given him a few years ago and stepped inside the front bathroom to thread it through his jacket. As he did, his father continued to linger.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I don’t know. Before midnight, probably.”

  “Definitely. It’s Saturday, but you gotta be back by ten.”

  Julian nodded.

  “And who are you meeting again?”

  “Just some friends. The same girl that was here before.”

  “C’mon, J. You gotta give me more than that. Your mom may not even remember that girl, and I certainly never met her.”

  “Her name is Josie. Super smart.”

  “Okay, better. But who else?”

  “Just people from the Santa exchange. Don’t worry. We’re just going for a walk.”