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Category:
Drama
Publisher: Up At Midnight
ISBN-10: 0979611768
Type: Fiction
Pages: 248
Copyright: 2007, 2008
ISBN-13: 9780979611766
On Christmas Eve, Savannah and Ennis find themselves arresting Santa and having their detective’s car towed. After “borrowing” a cruiser, their evening continues as they answer a variety of strange calls – until they respond to the scene of an accident. The subsequent outcome paired with a phone call from her doctor gives Savannah pause about her life. She’s diagnosed with breast cancer, the same disease that took her mother’s life. She tries her best to deal with the news but wishes her mother was there to comfort her. That's impossible, she thinks, because miracles like that don’t happen.
Going home after work, she sees a young girl waiting at the bus station. Savannah can't, in good conscience, leave the girl alone so she invites her to Christmas Eve supper. Throughout the evening, she feels a mysterious connection to the young girl. Savannah soon discovers that miracles do happen – all it takes is to believe…
Excerpt
Approaching the fat man in the red suit, Savannah noticed his attention still riveted on the small child stating his Christmas list item by item using his fingers to check off each gift. Santa’s patience wore thin on the seventh item, “I got the list, Tommy. I’ll have it all there for you, ‘kay?” He glanced up to catch Savannah discreetly revealing the badge clipped to her belt.
“It’s gotta be blue, Santa, not the red one,” the boy continued, not making a move to vacate the man’s lap.
Santa looked mighty anxious, Savannah thought. His gloved hands cinched around the boy’s waist to urge him down, “Red, not blue, got it.”
As his feet hit the floor, the little boy frantically corrected, “No, blue! I want blue!”
“Whatever, kid. I’ll get it there.” Santa suddenly stood up, addressing the crowd, “Santa’s gotta go.” A resounding groan rose from the hundred or so kids. The parents crossed their arms, giving the man a look to wither even the strongest human.
Santa watched Savannah and Ennis close in and shuffled toward the edge of the “Santa House”, feeling the need to expound on his sudden departure, “He’s going back to the North Pole to get all your toys. See ya!” He bolted from the Lilliputian house, his booted feet bicycling through the deep snow batting carpeting Elf Land. He braced himself on the gingerbread lattice side of the house and gave a quick glimpse behind him. Savannah and Ennis were close behind. Throwing them a narrow frown, he yanked a giant candy cane down as he passed it, knocking it down to block their path. Both detectives hurdled it without any trouble. “Yeah, calmly and quietly,” Ennis reminded her. “Great idea.”
“Shut up and run,” Savannah grumbled and jumped another candy cane Santa threw their way. “Okay, you. You can stop now or, if you keep running, you’ll just go to jail tired.”
In response, Santa picked up the pace through the cottony snow. Even in his ill fitting boots and clearly padded paunch, he easily hopped the small picket fence surrounding Elf Land but not before felling a giant eight foot snowman in the path. Both Savannah and Ennis locked on the brakes, backpedaling. Their feet slid from under them and they plopped on their backsides in the billowing snow. Ennis was first to gain his footing. He extended his hand to her, “That went well.”
Savannah came to her feet with his help and they resumed their chase. Catching up with him took virtually no effort on their part. Several kids surrounded him, clinging to him while rattling off their “must have” lists. He tried to shake loose from their hold but found eager children stick like Velcro. There were five kids anchored to his arms and coat when Savannah snapped a handcuff on his left wrist, “You’re coming with us.”
With those normally benign words, she detected a change in the children’s attitude. All their faces went from gleeful to grim in a heartbeat. When they heard Ennis reciting the Miranda Rights then saw Savannah snap Santa’s right wrist in the other cuff, she could have sworn every child turned icy. Ennis noticed the change as well, “Didn’t they make a movie about this?”
Cutting her vision to Ennis, she whispered, “Yeah. ’Children of the Corn.’”
With the exception of a baby crying somewhere in the crowd, the whole center court fell deathly quiet. The small, stunned faces now evolved to anger. Ennis cleared his throat uneasily, “Let’s get him outta here before they sprout claws…”
“Kids!” Santa yelled, startling both detectives. “They’re taking Santa to jail!”
The announcement equated to a proclamation of war. Several kids, none older than nine and many of the older siblings of the now bawling youngsters, let out a rebel yell and lit out toward the two cops. Seeing the older children’s bold move, a hoard of younger kids decided to charge while screaming like miniature banshees. Savannah and Ennis watched a literal tsunami of youth roll toward them. “Free Santa!” a sea of screaming voices chanted. “Free Santa!”
Savannah pulled on Santa’s arm, her anger more than palpable, “Oh, thanks for being so helpful. Say another word and I’ll shove a handful of snow in your mouth.”
“Police brutality!” he squawked as she lead him along, his feet dragging to delay the inevitable. His cry, though, produced the intended effect… The kids swarmed like bees.
Kids of varying ages wrapped themselves around Savannah’s legs, pulling her back with all their might. Trying to hoist a leg for two inches of progress became arduous with forty pounds of kid hanging onto the extremity. “Let go, you little brats,” she growled in her nicest voice, which come to think of it, wasn’t very nice at all. Still, it wasn’t enough to budge the protestors. They clung like bears on a tree trunk, their tiny fingers digging into the flesh when they gripped. Oh, she hated to see the bruises those little hands would create.
She looked over to Ennis for some help and found him just as disabled as she – with the exception that four kids had him by the legs, not two like her. She heard him addressing the hangers-on, “Where are your mommies and daddies? Once we get this fella in jail, your parents are next! Then we’ll take you little angels to–”
“Ennis,” she broke his impending declaration. Child Protective Services was next from his lips and Savannah knew they were in enough poo to last a long time. They didn’t need irate parents in their faces asking why their children were promised a permanent vacation from them.
“Well, God sakes, what else is gonna get these mangy things off us?”
She was about to open her mouth when a considerable pain registered at the back of her head. Some kid had her by the ponytail now and yanked on it like he jockeyed a racehorse. With every pull the pain grew in intensity. He yanked once, twice, three times and she rounded on the kid, “Okay, that does it.”
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