Sleigh Duty Page 3
“Not even my brother?”
“Especially your brother. If he knew you’d been out all night, he’d be really worried. You don’t want to upset him, do you?”
“No.”
“And he won’t believe you if you say you’ve been to Santa’s workshop,” Dashiel added. “When you get older, people will tell you that Santa’s just a story, and it’s all made up, but we know differently, don’t we?”
Sammy nodded. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
“Okay, now turn round so I can undress.”
Sammy rolled his eyes, as only a kid could, but did as he was told. “Are you done yet?”
Dashiel nudged him with his snout in response. Sammy gathered up his clothes and shoved them into the sack. When he had them all together, Dashiel lowered himself so that Sammy could climb onto his back. He would have to be careful since they didn’t have a saddle.
“What do I have to say to make you go?” Sammy asked. “Do you need my address?”
Dashiel shook his head and took off into the sky. No, he didn’t need Sammy to tell him where he lived. He knew Stuart’s address already, having intended to pick him up from there the previous evening.
Dashiel concentrated all his energy on focusing on their home town, and in practically no time at all they were flying over it.
“There’s my house!” Sammy shouted.
Dashiel flew down and landed in the backyard. He hoped no neighbours were peeking through their curtains, or if they were, that they put it down to overactive imaginations.
Sammy climbed down and Dashiel nudged him round so he could transform and get dressed. It was a long walk to his house, but he didn’t want to take any more risks than he already had.
“Do you have a key to get inside?”
Sammy nodded and pulled it out of his pocket.
“And you can sneak in without being spotted?”
“I think so. If Stuart is in the living room I can get upstairs without him seeing, then come down and pretend I just got up.”
“And you remember your promise?”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
“And no more running away, right?”
“I won’t. But…”
“But what?”
“What if Stuart wants me to live with Grandpa?”
“He doesn’t, but if he ever does, then you talk to him and your grandpa. No more running off.”
“Okay.”
“Now, I’m sure there are plenty of presents under that tree with your name on, including at least one from a certain bearded man with a red suit, who you met last night. I can also smell Christmas dinner cooking and my extra sensitive reindeer nose tells me it’s almost ready.”
Sammy grinned and wrapped his arms around Dashiel’s neck. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, now run along.”
* * * *
Stuart woke on Christmas morning expecting to hear Sammy already up and about. He was under orders not to open his presents before Stuart was awake, to share the moment with him, but he knew he was eager to see what the big one was.
The silence of the house was unusual on any morning, and especially today.
“Hey, Sammy, are you awake?” He knocked on his brother’s door, but there was no sound from within. He wondered what time Sammy had given up waiting to see Santa and gone to sleep.
He eased the door open. “Sammy?”
The lump under the covers didn’t show any signs of moving. Stuart smiled and closed the door again. His brother would no doubt surface soon, and in the meantime, Stuart would grab a coffee and make breakfast.
Since he suspected Sammy had been up late waiting for Santa, Stuart didn’t check on him for the next few hours, instead busying himself with preparing dinner. When it was clear Sammy wasn’t surfacing, Stuart went upstairs to rouse him. He opened the door and saw Sammy hadn’t moved. He was about to call for him to wake up when he heard the tell-tale squeak of a floorboard.
He spun round to see Sammy standing behind him, his school bag, crammed to the brim in his hand.
“Sammy!” Stuart glanced back into the bedroom, only now seeing the lump in the bed for what it was. “Where the hell have you been?”
Sammy froze, and Stuart forced himself to calm down.
“I’m sorry, Sammy, I didn’t mean to shout.”
His brother hung his head and shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Stuart pulled him into a hug and held him tight. “It’s okay. As long as you’re all right. Are you okay?”
Sammy nodded. “Yes.”
“Where have you been?”
“I…”
“What is it?”
Sammy wouldn’t look him in the eye. “He said I wasn’t supposed to tell you. He made me promise not to say anything.”
Stuart froze and a rage like he had never felt before washed over him. He tried to keep his voice calm. “You can tell me anything, Sammy. I promise I won’t be angry with you. Now, where have you been, and who told you not to tell me?”
Sammy brushed away a tear. “I tried to go to Grandpa’s house, but the bus didn’t come. I waited for ages at the bus stop until Santa found me.”
“Santa?” There were several different men playing the part of Santa around the town this year, but as far as he knew, they were all pillars of the community. But who could tell for sure these days?
Stuart guided Sammy into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed. He sat beside him and put Sammy’s bag down on the floor. “Was it Santa from the department store?”
“No, it was the real one.”
Stuart forced a smile. “I’m sure the real Santa was busy delivering presents last night. The one you met was no doubt just an actor.”
“No, he was real.”
“Did he hurt you?” Stuart asked.
“Of course not, Santa doesn’t hurt anyone.”
Stuart nodded. “Sammy, you know you can tell me anything?”
“Yes.”
“And you promise to tell me the truth?” Stuart recognised that he was stalling.
“I promise.”
He hated to ask the next question, but he forced the words out. “Did this man you met… did he… touch you at all?”
Sammy frowned. “He helped me into his sleigh. And Mrs Claus carried me a little bit when I was asleep.”
“And you’re sure that’s all?” Stuart asked. “He didn’t touch you anywhere he shouldn’t?”
“No.”
“You promise you’d tell me if he did?”
“I promise. He let me travel in the sleigh and then one of his reindeer brought me home this morning. We were supposed to get here before you woke up, but we ate breakfast first.”
Stuart wasn’t sure what to make of Sammy’s story, but the last thing he wanted to do was ruin his brother’s Christmas. He seemed to be okay, and his grandparents had already spoken to him once this week about jumping to conclusions. Admittedly, that was an entirely different situation, but the principle was the same.
Sammy didn’t seem upset or frightened. If anything, he seemed to find his adventure exciting. Of course, it didn’t explain why Sammy was trying to go to their grandparents’ house in the middle of the night in the first place. “Why were you going to Grandpa’s house?”
“I…”
“If you wanted to spend today with Granny and Grandpa, you should have asked me. They could have stayed here tonight and we’d all spend Christmas Day together.”
“I wanted to go live with them,” Sammy whispered.
“Oh.” Stuart wasn’t sure of the best way to handle that particular revelation. Was it something he had said or done? He thought the two of them got along great, but had he got it completely wrong? Perhaps Sammy felt neglected. Maybe he should have looked for a part-time job, so he could be home when Sammy returned from school. What could have happened to prompt his brother’s decision? “I thought you liked living with me
.”
“I do.”
“But?” Stuart prompted.
“But while I’m here, you can’t go out to parties.”
The realisation that Sammy had been listening to his conversation with their grandparents explained a lot. “You came back downstairs after I put you to bed, didn’t you?”
“I wanted a drink.”
“Hmm. Well, let me tell you a secret. I don’t really like parties much.”
“You don’t?”
“Nope. They’re noisy and crowded, and I’d much rather be at home with you.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Santa?”
“No, Dashiel, the reindeer.”
“Santa has a reindeer called Dashiel?” Stuart wondered if Sammy might have dreamed some of what had happened last night. He tried to recall if he had told Sammy or his grandparents Dashiel’s name. Maybe he fell asleep at the bus stop or something.
“Yes, but he’s not really a reindeer. Or he is, but he can turn into a man too. He let me ride on his back. Not a piggyback like you used to give me, but like on a horse.”
“That’s nice. And this Dashiel brought you home?”
“Yes. He’s the one who told me you wouldn’t believe me if I told you what had happened.”
“Wait a minute, are you saying that Dashiel is the one who told you to keep secrets from me, not Santa?”
“Er… yes.”
“And Dashiel didn’t hurt you either?”
“No one hurt me, I promise. Can we open the presents now?”
Stuart smiled and shook his head. He’d talk about things with his grandparents later. Until then, he would let his brother enjoy his Christmas morning. “Sure, let’s go see what Santa left you.”
* * * *
Dashiel collapsed onto his bed and slept through the whole of Christmas Day and well into Boxing Day. Why hadn’t anyone warned him how wiped he would be after sleigh duty?
Mid-afternoon on Boxing Day, he finally felt ready to face the world, or more to the point, ready to phone Stuart and discover just how much making up he had to do to get him to agree to a date.
“Pick up the phone, pick up the phone,” he muttered under his breath as he waited for Stuart to answer.
“Hi Dashiel,” Stuart said. “What do you want?”
Well, at least he had taken his call. “I said I’d call you to reschedule our date, remember?”
“I remember. I thought you’d be too busy with the guy who wanted you to get naked.”
“Ouch. I guess I deserved that. Sorry, but it wasn’t what you’re thinking. I’d have explained but the phone signal was really crap where I was.”
“Well, why don’t you explain now?” Stuart asked. “I’d love to know what explanation you could possibly have for some guy yelling for you to hurry up and get naked.”
“Er…” Dashiel had hoped the bad line would have prevented Stuart from hearing Fred’s remark.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I hope he was worth it.”
“I swear I wasn’t having sex with him. He’s not even gay.”
“Do you have a lot of straight men asking you to get naked?”
“No. Not many gay ones either for that matter. Look, I can’t explain what was going on, but I want a second chance.”
Stuart gave a loud sigh at the other end of the phone. “Look, this isn’t a good time right now. I have some family stuff going on.”
“Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine, but I won’t have time for dating for a while.”
“Maybe lunch one day in the new year. I mean, you still have to go to work, right?”
“I don’t know. You’re not the man I thought you were, so maybe it’s best we both look elsewhere.”
The phone went dead before Dashiel could even formulate an argument. “No way am I giving up on you,” he muttered.
* * * *
“Who was that?” Grandpa asked when Stuart returned to the living room.
“No one.”
“The guy who cancelled on you?”
“Yeah, like I said, no one.”
Grandpa made a noise that adequately conveyed that he wasn’t buying it.
“I can’t be dealing with him right now. I need to make sure that Sammy is okay, especially after what happened.”
“Stuart, we don’t know that anything did happen to him. He could have just fallen asleep at the bus stop.”
“Or he could be traumatised by some pervert and blocked it all out with this fantasy of Santa and his reindeer. Maybe I should call the police. What if this guy dressed up as Santa is out there preying on other young boys? I couldn’t live with myself if it turned out there was some predator out there that I knew about, and didn’t report.”
His grandparents nodded thoughtfully. “That road has cameras along it. Maybe it will have picked something up.”
“Yeah, good idea,” Stuart agreed. “I’ll phone the police and see what they say. I’ll just talk to Sammy first, so he isn’t surprised when the police show up here.”
* * * *
Dashiel frowned at the envelope on the mantelpiece. It was identical to the one summoning him for sleigh duty, but what was it doing here on Boxing Day evening?
Curiosity quickly had him opening the envelope and once again he was pulled back to the North Pole.
“Dashiel, there you are, come and take a look at this.”
Santa held out a letter and Dashiel took it from him. “Isn’t it a little early for a Christmas list for next year?”
“It’s not a Christmas list. Read it?”
Dashiel opened the letter and immediately saw the name of Sammy at the bottom. He skimmed the contents. “Oh fuck.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Santa replied. “What? Do you think I don’t swear when the situation warrants it?”
“Um, no. You’re Santa.”
“Who according to this is soon going to be wanted by the police, along with a certain shape-shifting reindeer who goes by the name of Dashiel.”
“It seems that Sammy got caught sneaking back in.”
“Yes, which has obviously caused his brother great concern.”
“What are we going to do? I assume the police aren’t going to be searching for you all the way out here, but I have a job in that town.”
“Yes, and there’s always the risk that another innocent Santa could get caught up in this too. Still, this is easily resolved.”
“It is?”
Santa picked up a small jar and handed it to him. “This is concentrated memory powder. It will wipe all memories of the last couple of days from the whole family and anyone they have spoken to about this.”
“But they could have talked to half the bloody town by now!”
“Sammy only wrote the letter today. So far there’s only Stuart and his grandparents. But if you leave it too long, you might have to deal with several police officers.” Santa gestured towards a clock on the wall. “You don’t have much time.”
“Can you send me back there? I don’t think I can fly anymore.”
“No, it will have worn off by now. I’ll send you back to Sammy’s yard, the rest is up to you.”
Dashiel hadn’t even finished his nod when he found himself back in the yard. Now, how in the world was he going to do this? He wished Santa had told him more about how this stuff worked. Did he throw it at them, or slip it into their tea?
“Dashiel?”
He jumped at the voice from above him. When he looked up he saw Sammy sitting in the large tree. “What are you doing up there?”
“Looking for Santa’s sleigh?”
“Really?”
“No, I’m just hiding.”
Dashiel smiled. “Hiding from who?”
Sammy climbed down from the tree. “I broke my promise and told Stuart about meeting you and Santa. Now everything is messed up. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I probably shouldn’t have asked you to keep secrets from your brother any
way. But I’m here to fix things.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I’m going to make everyone forget about me and Santa and you trying to run away from home. You’ll all forget everything that’s happened over the last few days.”
“But I don’t want to forget.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s the only way. Now, close your eyes and let me see if I can figure out how this magic dust works.”
Sammy did as he asked, and Dashiel blew a tiny pinch of the dust into his face.
“You can open your eyes now,” Dashiel said. “Do you know who I am?”
“Sure, you’re Dashiel, one of Santa’s reindeer.”
Damn. Dashiel checked the label of the bottle. “Extra Strength Memory Dust for Adults.”
“I’m not an adult,” Sammy pointed out. “Maybe it doesn’t work on kids.”
“Looks like you might be right. Which means I need to test it on your brother and grandparents, preferably before they speak to the police.”
“They’re all in the living room. Stuart hasn’t called them yet. I heard him telling Grandpa that he was going to talk to me about it first, so I hid out here.”
“I guess we’d better head inside then.” Dashiel hurried towards the house, Sammy close at his heels.
They found Stuart and his grandparents right where Sammy said they would be.
“Dashiel, what are you doing here?”
“I told you I wanted a second chance, and I don’t intend to take no for an answer.”
“This isn’t a good time,” Stuart said.
“You know Dashiel?” Sammy asked.
Stuart frowned. “Yes, I do. Are you saying this is the Dashiel who you met on Christmas Eve?”
Sammy shot Dashiel a guilty look. “Sorry, but you never told me you’d met Stuart.”
Dashiel smiled. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” While they were talking he fiddled with the jar in his pocket and pinched some dust between his fingers. Before Stuart could react he blew the dust into his face, and this time he could tell that it was working. A dazed expression appeared on his face and he seemed to be completely out of it. He gave the older couple on the sofa the same treatment and then turned to Sammy.