Repose

[Leena B]

Hello, Mallory.

[Dahlia H]

Hello, Dahlia.

[Cat C]

All present and correct.

[Eddie N]

I hear you're on the move.

[Cat C]

hey girl

[Saturday, Secret Santa deliveries begin distribution. Senders are not given the physical addresses of their recipients, but the local post office takes care of all the technicalities and even provides assistance when meetings have been established, so long as they are given proof of the interaction. They even have a computer set up in their lobby for people sending things digitally. The note on the door says deliveries will be on-going and complimentary until New Year's. Happy holidays, Repose!]

[Thanks to Patrick, the Gunster abode has been attacked by Santa and a couple of recruited elves. Inside are balloons. Everywhere. The downstairs is mostly a winter wonderland with little glittery snowflakes dangling from the sea of white and silver balloons that cover every inch of the ceiling. Elsewhere through the house are various Christmas themed balloon sculptures: Santa in the kitchen, a full size reindeer in the bathroom, candy canes in the corners of rooms, a snowman on the couch, presents of varying sizes stacked here and there, and some wearable balloon santa hats and reindeer antlers.

Upstairs? It is like swimming through a red and green ball pit. Floor to ceiling balloons that are loose enough to move through but little else. The bedrooms have been kept as sanctuaries from the helium jungle, but the bathrooms might be super fun to navigate.

On the kitchen counter is a phone number to call that states the Gunster home is offered a free housecleaning, which conveniently happens to include (and specialize in) balloon removal. Santa is not going to make anyone clean up this mess.]

[Waiting for Newt P is an envelope, with his name written neatly on the outside. Within are three things: a menu for a French restaurant in the Capital that specializes in southern French cuisine, has impossibly long waits for reservations and has a receipt stapled to the back that indicates that the dinner is paid for in full. The second item is a key-card, in a paper envelope for a small but charming hotel in the city center that has views of the light display put up in the Capital. The third item is a telephone number and a name written in full (if the recipient wishes to search for said individual online) and 'pick-up time, five thirty' written below. A call to said individual who works for one of the main childcare places in the Capital and has a side-gig in overnight sitting would tell you that an overnight sit has been paid for in full and reviews of her care are publicly available online.

Alongside the envelope is wrapped up a very old looking book on botany, the flora and fauna of the city and the town and its surrounds. The bookmark is a slab of chocolate. The piece of paper tucked into the first page reads, 'you may already have read this, but what's a Santa to do?']

[As requested, Santa answers young Jerome's letter. A package arrives for the family, with gifts for each, and a letter to the boy written in flowing script that his mother will likely have to read for him.


Dear Jerome,

I write to you not so that you may prove or disprove my existence to the other boys and girls at school, but because that your only wish, if I were real, was a gift for your mother. It does not matter if you believe in me or not, your good heart should be rewarded. You are your mother's knight in shining armor.

Merry Christmas,

- Saint Nicholas


For the mother, there is a bottle of perfume in a velvet pouch, one worn by the Santa's own mother once upon a time. The bottle is an intricate piece of glass and silver, the scent a sophisticated floral with a hint of vanilla. Tucked away in the pouch so that the children will not see and the illusion will not be destroyed, are three one hundred dollar gift cards. One to the local gas station, one to the local department store, and one to the local grocery store.

For Jerome's younger sisters, are two soft rag-doll girls with twin braids of yarn hair. One wears a pink dress, the other wears purple.

For Jerome there is a vest and a pair of pants made of a silvery fabric, fashioned like a suit of armor, along with a wooden sword with a leather belt to fasten it to the boy's waist.

And though Misha did not ask for a gift, he got one just the same. A small box containing a Christmas tree ornament of delicate blown glass in the shape of a fiddle, and a note detailing what the Santa gave Jerome and his family.]

[As requested, a gift card for the good diner in town - enough on it for two meals of their largest burger and largest fries. But that's not all! There's a membership confirmation for a Burger of the Month Club. Santa doesn't know if Dahlia can cook, but hopes that this will be appreciated...

There's also a handwritten note on a cartoon snowman card:
Happy Holidays. Hope it's better than eating out of cans.]

[On Sunday morning first light, the truck is gone. It's not just gone. There's a small, potted tree sitting where the car was parked. It has a cheerful-looking star on top and is decorated with string-lights in the shape of peppers and some obnoxiously bright baubles in various shades of screamingly loud colors. The string-lights flash and the note perched in the branches says 'temporarily without a ride? Call [Number]'. In the wide-open time between Sunday morning and Sunday evening, the truck is worked over. There's a mechanic who pays attention to every rust-spot and who gives the tires a changeover as well. By the time it's parked back where Cisco said it ought to be, it looks as shiny and new as an old truck could. The front passenger seat has a number of parcels tied up with ribbons that look store-wrapped. One contains a lot of chocolate: milk and dark, fudge and ginger, the kind of chocolate purchased by the piece in a store where they box it carefully. One contains a pair of sinfully soft silk pyjamas in dusky dark blue. One contains a runner's watch, the kind that counts a thousand things at once and looks like something somebody who knew nothing about it pointed to an item in a catalog. And one contains - well - a phone loaded with Tinder, and a photo book meant for a coffee table but with risque-bordering-on-exposed photographs of both gentlemen and ladies. Happy holidays, Cisco. There's no note, save for the luggage tag attached to the keys.

'I almost found you a somebody for the holidays but I wasn't sure on picking out your type. Santa'. ]

[The papers and tickets come in a simple envelope with her name written in messy script. There's the retreat, fully paid, including airfare, room and meals, for dates in January. Also included are all tours and trail rides. There's more writing on the back of the envelope, just a word in that same messy script: Write.]

[Santa isn't sure Art drives, and two cars show up in front of Art's home on the evening of the 23rd. One is cute and black and convertible, and if Art indicates that he can maneuver on his own he is handed the keys to the BMW, along with GPS that will lead him into the Capital and his first stop for the evening. If Art indicates he does not drive, then he will be driven into the Capital in style and by a very well-dressed chauffeur who plays opera for the duration of the journey.

Choose your own adventure, Art Cleary.]