The Darkness

Except that. Carrie accidentally spit up her cocoa as she stared back at him. As dreamy as he was, marrying someone she didn’t know wasn’t in her plans. How could she let him down softly? She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “That’s sweet, but, uh, it may be too rushed?”

Kris looked at her, seeming to judge his next words carefully. From behind his back, he pulled out her second grade paper and began to read. “When I grow up I want to be Mrs. Claus. I want to help Santa deliver gifts and help the elves.” He looked up from the paper. “Great for a seven year old.”

Carrie looked toward her hands. Shortly after that assignment, her parents had told her what they thought had been the truth about Santa. “I was young back then.”

“You understood it better when you were younger,” he said. “It’s not a marriage, not in the way you think. It’s a partnership. Santa Claus is supposed to go out and drop gifts off with a partner. His partner is the Mrs.”

Carrie scooted around in the seat and bit her lip. “You mean, you want me to be your partner?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Haven’t you ever felt misplaced here?”

“Everyone does,” she said. Carrie knew what he meant though. “Mrs. Claus. Mrs. Kringle. It’s weird.” Strange. Partner to the new Santa Claus. “If your name is Kringle, where did Claus come from?”

“We go by many names, but the true family name is Kringle,” he explained. “If I married for love, then it would be Mrs. Kringle too, but this is just a partnership. There are two kinds of marriage.”

“Oh. Has there ever been a female Santa?”

“Sure.”

“Why is Claus the word of such importance though?” She was probably annoying him at this point, but when else would she get a chance to know these answers?

Kris scratched his neck thoughtfully. “There are probably a thousand questions you want answered. The best way to learn is to become Mrs. Claus.”

Oh, a form of blackmail. “I don’t know. I don't even know you.”

“If you agree, your mind will be less confused. In fact, every real moment of magic or the presence of a creature of mythical power will come flooding back to you. You won’t forget anything anymore, Christmas rose or not.” He rubbed his hands together. To keep warm, or nerves? “I don’t often say things like this, but I really need you to accept the position. Dimensions are heading into darkness, and it’s going to need the power of a Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus to make it through the year.”

Carrie shrugged. “I would help deliver presents? How would that help the world?”

“It's not just that. You can do so much more.” His eyes locked with hers. “If you accept the position, then you could come with me to my dimension. You call it the North Pole. You'll live for centuries.”

“I can't do that,” she protested, not even addressing the word ‘centuries’. “I’m sorry. I’m still young, and I don't―“

“You don’t become it yet. You have some time to decide,” he said. “I know. This part is hard. My mom and dad took like twenty years before she said yes. But it’s different for us though. This world will be lost to darkness. You don't know what's coming.” He held his own cocoa cup up. “Notice the marshmallows in your cocoa? Fresh and light, the elves whipped it up themselves. You could have it every day.”

As entertaining as elves making her marshmallows sounded, his earlier statement dwelled on her mind. “What do you mean, ‘lost to darkness’?”

Kris seemed to be in a daze, and he gave her an uneasy glance as if he were hiding something from her. He looked toward her again. “I’m going to tell you a secret, Carrie. I'm not supposed to tell you until you’re Mrs. Claus, but it’s important. There is magic out in other dimensions, but most of it has been lost. The dimension that part of my kind came from disappeared. We ended up in a sort of. . .” He made his hands into a round shape. “. . .bubble. In that bubble, we learned about the truth from the residents. The elves. Since many of us were naturally kind at heart, we all wanted to help how we could. It's in our nature.” He glanced toward her. “Your nature. You are a direct descendant too.”

“What?” Carrie almost choked. “We're related?”

“No, oh no!” Kris put his hands out toward her, quickly getting his point across. “You're from the same kind, not the same clan. You see, along with that bubble, there was a hole to another dimension that opens on certain days. The Kringles chose to stay to help celebrate Christmas, while others went into your dimension. They lived inside of it, married in it, and had children within it. It's hard to help, without understanding, and that is what they did. We kept contact with them by watching the birth dates. All of them were always born on the same day, December twenty fifth. That's why you'd be perfect for Mrs. Claus, Carrie. I hear it in your voice, and I see it in your eyes. You may have been born here, but you've got the spirit of your ancestors.”

Carrie placed her finger to her mouth, as she looked over at Kris. “So there is more to giving presents after all. Why do you do it, and what is the darkness?”

“The darkness has been coming for some time. It's the main reason the Kringles created Christmas. Belief can help magic.” Kris shuffled the reins in his hands. “I don't want to scare you, and I can't share everything if you don't become my partner. Let's just say that there are real fairies. The Easter Bunny is real. Mermaids, werewolves, and so much more. Fairytales, mythical creatures and legends, they all exist. Their dimensions are disappearing though. Santa Claus exists on the outside of your dimension, but right beside it. That closeness helped preserve this dimension because he has powerful magic, but he's gone now. While he is gone, there may not be enough to stay safe. Two positively merry people are needed to get through this time.”

“Merriment? I don’t think there is much merriment left.” Carrie took another sip of her hot cocoa. “Talking about donations, and helping others? There is so little of it. People say it, but whenever they meet me, they say it’s too much.”

“What is too much?” He stopped drinking his cocoa and looked at her.

“Someone told me I was so positive that they’d rather gag than talk to me. My own mother won’t let me listen to cheery music. Christmas Eve is the only time she seems to ever cut me a break by getting me a nice present.”

“Why do you assume it’s from her?” He cleared his throat. “Do you really think those two would get you those cheery sweaters when they have lost their own way so much?”

Carrie stopped. Froze, actually, as she thought about what he said. What did the tag say on it? “The tag said, ‘From mom’ or ‘From dad’ every year.”

“Did it? Do you remember that?” The twinkle in his eye once again surfaced.

“But I would remember it saying from…” Carrie didn’t understand, what was he saying?

“They don’t remember. You don’t remember. Your mind assumes one thing because it can’t wrap itself around it. Think hard. You’re in a sleigh drinking the elves’ cocoa. What did that gift tag say?”

Gift tag. It was green. Green with glitter. She could picture it in her mind, but the name was blurred. Fuzziness on the ‘from’ line, but the way it hung, it couldn’t be her mother’s name. Was it her father? No. Santa? No, the S didn’t fit the fuzziness either. It was… “K. It was a K. Kris?”

“Birthday or Christmas, everyone good deserves a nice sweater.” He put down his cocoa. “I thought the first gift given this new year should go to my Mrs. Santa Claus.”

Carrie looked down at her cocoa. On the surface, it didn’t seem like it was Earth shattering. So few believed in Santa in the first place, but the world was grittier and darker than she ever could have witnessed. If this was only the beginning of the year, what would happen to humanity by Christmas? Even if she did become Mrs. Santa Claus, the world would have lost so much by then. So much had already been lost. She flinched as she felt Kris touch her cheek. He told her there was no need to cry. Had she been crying? “I’m sorry,” Carrie apologized. “This world feels so heavy. I always cry over everything. I’ve always been a little odd.”

“Not to me,” he said. “I think sentiment is wonderful. I wish more were like you. I wish there were a thousand Carrie’s in the world, speaking with passion and bells in their voices.”

Carrie chuckled, and she could feel her cheeks getting warm. He was so unlike all the other guys out there her age. Even the way he spoke, modern and yet not. Bells in their voices?

“Will you become Mrs. Claus?” he asked her. “Help me fend off this darkness coming?”

“I don't know.” Carrie needed to be honest. “I was supposed to be going to the Community College. I’ve never been to the North Pole. Will things get better?”

“Eventually, maybe. But, if you choose that―“

“I couldn't commit to this, I know.” She sat there, contemplating. “I…I…”

Kris nodded. “Not yet, I get it. You’ll get there. It’s just beginning.” He gave her the rose. “I will see you again soon. No more than a week, I promise.”

Carrie didn’t imagine she would change her mind. To leave her friends and family to be Mrs. Claus? It sounded dreamy, but it wasn’t a dream, and she had to think about the future. Carrie didn’t want to live with some random person from another dimension. She would never have a chance to find the one she wanted to be with. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced she couldn’t be Mrs. Claus. It had been a nice dream when she was a child, but that wasn’t right. Mrs. Claus needed to love Santa Claus. Right? Kris was nice, but she couldn't be his partner.

Maybe Kris was right and her roots did lie in another dimension. She’d been born and raised to be here on Earth though. Those roots were her ancestors, not hers. She didn't feel like she had the right to say she could be Mrs. Claus. Besides, he was sweet, but another dimension?

His words though, ‘lost in darkness’. Each day she became more aware of what he meant. Now, only a week later, the Earth had changed. A world she had previously thought was dark had turned pitch black. The merriness of the season had stopped, almost immediately. In one week, Jenny broke up with her as a friend, saying she couldn’t stand her anymore. Carrie's teachers stopped grading homework, simply giving all A’s or no longer showing up to class. Half the students in her classes stopped coming. Crime was up so much that she felt threatened walking to school in the morning. The skies had turned grey, and the sun seemed to purposefully hide from sight.

Carrie's mother and father fought too. Not simple quarrels, real fighting with breaking stuff. She cried on her bed a few times as she heard precious objects being torn or broken. When she came out afterward, the room had been a mess. She felt such anger in her heart the night she saw her treasured box on the floor, the one she had made in junior high, for her mother. Carrie wanted to shout, but she remembered what Kris had said. She glared at her mother's shadow as it moved across the carpet.

“I am so tired of you too,” her mother said to her. “Look at you. Pitiful excuse of a being. You’re naïve enough to think you can help the world when you couldn’t even take care of yourself out there. I did everything I could to make you stronger, but look at you. Pathetic, spoiled brat! You can’t even throw a punch! You couldn’t survive where I was before I met your father.”

Carrie couldn’t look her in the eyes as she said those words.