St. Nick

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St. Nick Page 14

by Alan Russell


  “The schools might not have looked for that,” Charlotte said. “Or Laura might be home-schooled. And I never thought of checking into private schools. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t have money. Some give scholarships.”

  “I have an idea,” said Nick. “We know Laura’s a reader. I was thinking about canvassing the libraries in Southeast San Diego. Since it’s likely she has no money to buy books, it stands to reason that she’s getting books from the library.”

  Charlotte nodded. “That’s a good idea. The only problem is we’re running out of time. Christmas is only seventeen days away, Nick.”

  They stopped at the sea wall overlooking Children’s Cove. Most locals now called it Sea Lion Cove, as it had been taken over by the mammals. Some of the sea lions and seals could be seen in the water, but most were content to bask in the sun along the beach.

  “With time running out,” said Charlotte, “I’d like to interview you for the Laura story. My producer and I are talking about using it as a springboard into a series called The Children Christmas Forgot.”

  Nick had hoped it wouldn’t come to this; part of him was still suspicious that she’d been stringing him along just to make sure he cooperated with her story. She sensed his reticence.

  “It’s not going to be easy for me either,” she said. “I’m going to talk about how it was for me growing up. That’s something I’ve never done.”

  “Your viewers are going to admire you for having come so far.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that. Do you know how hard it is to be a forty-something female broadcaster? The only thing tougher is to be a fifty-something female broadcaster, and that’s not far away. We’re supposed to be all smiles without the laugh lines. I’m the only broadcaster my age who hasn’t had cosmetic surgery, and that includes the men.”

  “Hey,” said Nick, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something: does my Santa suit make me look fat?”

  Charlotte laughed, but then gave Nick a sideways glance. “That’s not going to work.”

  “What’s not going to work?”

  “You’re not going to get out of your interview that way. You promised.”

  Nick sighed. “So when do you want to do it?”

  “The sooner we put the story on the air, the better our chances of finding Laura.”

  He couldn’t find fault with anything she said, but the thought of appearing in front of a camera was still daunting.

  “All right, I do it in my Santa uniform, and I’m identified as Nicholas Alexander Pappas.”

  “That’s what we agreed on.”

  A seal raised its head up out of the water and seemed to look directly at Nick. “Christmas seal,” he said.

  Charlotte followed the direction of his gaze, and laughed.

  Nick thought about his schedule. Los Niños Hospital had agreed to allow the snow delivery on the eleventh. It would be best to get the interview out of the way before then.

  “Let’s do it the day after tomorrow,” he said, “and in the meantime I’m going to do everything I can to find Laura so as to get out of it.”

  The Sunday shopping crowds were busy, and so was the North Pole. Every so often Nick heard shouting in the distance, but he couldn’t figure out what was getting people excited. After about the third such explosion he remembered the Sea Lions were playing. He had been so busy he had forgotten his promise to Danny Brown. By the sounds of it, maybe Santa Claus was keeping his word.

  It was late afternoon before he was able to take a break. He downed three bottles of water in the locker room, and was still thirsty. At the water cooler he refilled the bottles. Forster joined him there. His partner’s face was drawn.

  “Don’t tell me the Sea Lions lost,” said Nick.

  Forster was a big football fan, and for a moment he had something to smile about. “They didn’t lose; they won big, as in thirty-five to seven with Danny Brown throwing for over four hundred yards.”

  “Then why the long face?”

  “Our bad boys just snatched two purses. They’re back.”

  Nick felt as if he had let his friend down. It had been busy, but his vibes must have failed him. He had never picked up on the presence of the suspects.

  “The women were both about forty,” said Forster. “They were walking towards their car and the next thing they knew their purses were snatched.”

  “With easy pickings our guys will be back.”

  “I know.”

  “You get footage from the cameras in the parking lots?”

  “They were wearing hats and big sunglasses. And they took off in a Camry with stolen plates.”

  “When my shift’s over,” said Nick, “let’s do a stakeout.”

  It was like old times. After an hour in the Food Pavilion, Nick and Forster moved outdoors to a spot that allowed them a good vantage point.

  “Our bad guys usually operate out here,” said Nick. “What do you think about getting some off-duty cops to dress up as Salvation Army Santas?”

  “I like the idea. But I just don’t have the budget.”

  “What if we paid the cops through whatever they collect in their drums?”

  “You’re saying we should take the donations and put them into the security budget?”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s illegal. It’s unethical. And I’d hate to think of the fallout if our shoppers found out.”

  “To catch these guys we got to think out of the box.”

  Forster started laughing.

  “What now?” said Nick.

  “Marco,” said Forster.

  “It worked didn’t it?”

  Forster and Nick had been working patrol when they’d gotten a call about a break-in in Mission Beach. A witness had seen two kids prying open a door to get into the Plunge, a huge swimming pool located in Belmont Park.

  The two officers had found the broken door, and had gone inside. It was dark, and they didn’t know where the lights were. They had shined their flashlights inside the cavernous space, but had seen nothing. The reflection of light off the water had made the place that much eerier.

  “Police!” Forster had yelled. “Come out with your hands up!”

  No one had come out; no one had responded. It was unclear if their suspects were still there. Even if they were, there were a million places to hide. While Forster stood guard at the door, Nick had checked the two locker rooms. When he returned empty-handed, Forster had suggested they leave.

  They’d walked towards the exit, and that’s when Nick stopped. He cupped his hands together, and in a playful voice shouted, “Marco!”

  And without thinking, one of the suspects had yelled back, “Polo!”

  “Remember how mad that one kid was at his friend? ‘Why couldn’t you have kept your mouth shut? Why did you yell, Polo?’”

  Nick grinned. “That was a good bust, but let’s not forget that you were the one who caught the Hamburglar.”

  The two of them had responded to a call from a woman who said someone had stolen the meat from her freezer. When they arrived at the scene of the crime they were met by a husband and wife. It was the wife who did all the talking. According to her, someone had rifled their freezer. The missing items included two pounds of bacon, some rib-eye steaks, pork chops, and two packages of ground chuck.

  “Talk about an easy call,” said Forster. “While the wife was ranting and raving, her husband was looking everywhere around the room except at his wife and us. When I got him by himself all I had to say was, ‘I think you got something to tell me.’”

  “I’m surprised she never smelled the food cooking when he went to get his midnight snacks.”

  “He meant to replace all the meat before she noticed,” said Forster. “They had gone in on a diet together, and he was ashamed to tell her how he had been cheating. Even when she was calling the police, he couldn’t bring himself to confess.”

  As they continued their stakeout, the two men reminisced about the past and whiled away the ti
me listening to sports radio. The big story of the day was the Sea Lions victory over Kansas City. Over the course of three hours Nick heard the same locker room interview of Downtown Danny Brown five times. Each time it aired, Forster enjoyed it more.

  “So,” said the sportscaster, “some people are saying this game ball should go to Santa Claus. Tell us about your visit to Saint Nick.”

  “Well,” said Brown, “I took my daughter to see him, and after she got done with her list, I ended up asking Santa for something myself.”

  “You asked for a victory, I understand. It was a Christmas present the Sea Lions desperately needed.”

  “Yeah, we really did.”

  “You had a career day.”

  “I went in there really loose. Seeing Santa put things in perspective. Football really is a kid’s game, and that’s easy to forget. When you’re little, all you care about is having fun. That’s what I tried to bring to the field today.”

  “Whatever you did, it worked. You kept the playoff hopes alive. I hope Santa has some more presents in store for you the next few weeks. Are you going to visit the Big Guy again?”

  “I might do that, but is it fair to ask Santa for another present?”

  “I don’t know if it’s fair or not, but we could sure use some help against Denver. It’s another big game.”

  “From here on in, they’re all big games.”

  Nick was glad the stores were closing. He wouldn’t have to hear the interview again.

  “That’s enough clichés for the night,” said Nick. “It doesn’t look like our Grinches are showing up again.”

  Forster wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. He held an imaginary microphone out to Nick and spoke with a big voice. “Here I am with today’s MVP Santa Claus, who had a huge game.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without the reindeer,” said Nick.

  “What about Mrs. Claus?”

  “She’s a real gamer.”

  “Any comment about the elves?”

  “They came to play.”

  “How are you going to approach the big game?”

  “It will be one chimney at a time.”

  “And there you have it,” said Forster. “We’ve heard from the man, the myth, the legend. There only remains one thing for this interview to be complete: the Nick Pappas obligatory victory dance.”

  “I don’t dance,” said Nick.

  Chapter 19

  Auld Lang Syne

  December 9

  “Please come visit me this year, Santa.”

  Nick held a copy of Laura’s letter in his hand. He knew its closing line only too well.

  He started his prospecting at Valencia Park/Malcolm X Library and Performing Arts Center on Market Street. Nick had heard the locals refer to the buildings as “X.” As he stepped inside the library, Nick wished he had some official standing. He walked over to the information desk and the woman sitting behind it smiled.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  The librarian looked like she was in her late forties. She had long salt-and-pepper hair and, on her cotton print dress, she wore a name tag that said “Dawn Lambert” and a button that read “Reading Tolkien Can Be Hobbit Forming.” Her eyes were the blue seen in marbles, her irises almost opaque.

  “I have some questions for you,” Nick said, “but they’re probably going to sound odd.”

  “Odd questions are my favorite kind,” Dawn said.

  “I work at Plaza Center,” said Nick. “Recently we received this letter.”

  He handed the librarian a copy of Laura’s letter. As Dawn began to read, her lips pursed thoughtfully, and Nick heard her utter a sympathetic “oh.” When she finished reading, her eyes asked Nick to elaborate.

  “I was the one who received the original of that letter,” said Nick. “I’m one of the Santa Clauses at the mall. When I’m off duty, I go by the name of Nick Pappas.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Pappas,” she said. “Is this when you’re going to start asking me those odd questions?”

  Nick nodded. “Laura’s note tells us a lot of things, but not her last name or address. That’s where I am hoping you can help.”

  “How?”

  “It’s clear Laura loves to read. Since she doesn’t have money, I’m assuming she gets her books through the library. Her letter tells us some of the books she likes. If you can get me a history on who’s checked those books out in the last year, I can cross-index the names.”

  Dawn was shaking her head even before Nick finished. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. The city and county systems don’t have the capacity to do a history on any title. We can only access what’s been checked in or checked out.”

  “No records?”

  “No records.”

  “No names?”

  “I am afraid not, and even if I was able to get names I couldn’t give them to you anyway. That would violate confidentiality.”

  Nick nodded, though it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. There had to be some back door. “How old do you have to be to get a library card?”

  “If you can sign your own name, and you have parental permission, you qualify.”

  Laura could certainly sign her name. “Do most children under the age of ten have their own library cards?”

  Dawn shook her head: “As a rule, parents check out the books for that age group. Minors are supposed to be accompanied by an adult.”

  Nick could feel another door closing. He had been hoping that Laura was dealing directly with the librarians.

  “What would you do if you were me?” Nick asked. “You know the system.”

  Dawn opened her mouth, and then closed it. She looked torn between wanting to help, and being afraid to.

  “You can talk off the record,” Nick said. “This isn’t going to backfire on you. I keep thinking about that last line of her note. Please come visit me this year, Santa. That’s what Laura wrote, and that’s what I’m trying to do.”

  Still, Dawn hesitated. “Why did you pick this library?”

  “Take a look at her drawing,” said Nick. “It looks like a picture of the Sixty-second Street Station. This library is the closest to that.”

  Dawn’s scales of justice finally tipped. “I can make a copy of this letter and send it to all the city and county librarians. The only undercover work we usually do pertains to book covers, but I expect this letter will prompt any number of watchful eyes.”

  The idea of a group of librarians acting like spies prompted both Nick and Dawn to smile.

  “Can you also include my name and telephone number and explain I’m looking for her?”

  “I’ll do that,” Dawn said.

  Nick scratched out his home number and passed it over to her. “Any other suggestions?” he asked.

  “I’ll make some calls for you,” she said. “Fellow librarians might tell me things they wouldn’t tell you.”

  “Thanks for helping,” he said.

  Nick could see that Dawn was still chewing her lip and thinking. “Was there something else?” he asked.

  “I have an idea,” she said. Whatever that idea was, she didn’t offer specifics. “But it’s going to take me a few days to make it operational.”

  Nick didn’t mention that a few days were all they had.

  I feel light. That was Nick’s thought at the end of the workday. The feeling wasn’t uncommon after a Santa shift—it was always a relief to be delivered from the unwieldy uniform and the padding heavy with his sweat, but it wasn’t only the freedom from his Santa suit that made Nick feel as he did. For the longest time he had considered hope to be the domain of fools, but now he saw how it could be the foundation of dreams.

  Maybe he didn’t have to die a cop. It surprised him how much he liked working with kids. What was to stop him from working in a school as an aide? And it was past time for him to start a garden again. It didn’t matter that he lived in an apartment. All he needed was a few planters. By growing tomatoes, ba
sil, eggplant, and peppers he had the foundation for some great meals. And with those ingredients, was it so impossible to think he might cook again for someone special?

  There was an extra lift in Nick’s step. He had finalized arrangements with Cruz for the snow scene, and couldn’t wait to see Raymond’s reaction to it. The boy seemed to be doing better, or at least had sounded that way when Nick talked with him on the phone earlier in the day. Maybe spending time with his mother had given him a lift. The snow might be something else Raymond could build on.

  Nick was also hopeful on the Laura front. He was convinced that he and Charlotte were getting closer to finding Laura. Tomorrow he had to go through with that television interview, though. Charlotte had offered to take him out to lunch afterwards, but he told her he had Santa duty.

  “Rain check, then,” she had said.

  “Snow check,” Nick told her, but hadn’t elaborated.

  He was whistling as he walked out to the parking lot. The December weather was warm, and the night was clear. Ahead of him, he saw an old woman overburdened with shopping bags. With just a few steps he caught up with her.

  “Help you with the packages, Ma’am?”

  She gave Nick a quick look, and decided he wasn’t a threat. Nick wasn’t as certain about her. Up close, he could see how very much she was hauling. Her hair was white and she was probably in her early eighties. But her eyebrows were dark. Like her eyebrows, her spirit came across as youthful.

  “That’s very kind of you,” she said. “I don’t understand why malls don’t provide shopping carts.”

  The woman slowly began transferring her shopping bags over to Nick. His empty hands caught her attention. “You didn’t find what you were looking for?” she asked.

  “Nope,” he said, “I struck out.”

  “Perhaps you’ll wish I was a little more unlucky with my shopping.”

  Nick laughed. She definitely wasn’t traveling light.

  “I have a lot of people to shop for,” she said. “That’s what comes of having three daughters and six grandchildren.”

  Nick took the last of her packages. “I think you got everyone taken care of tonight.”

  “Oh, not everyone, but I made a good start.”

 

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