SMC No Evidence He Existed

Carrie went to bed early, sneaking one of her tapes into her old deck. Carrie's progress was the same as last year, so her parents decided she would be visiting colleges herself. Maybe she would feel something when she was right there? She didn’t know. She only knew that tonight, he was coming back. Kris. She couldn't believe it, but he had been at her school that day in June. He must have set up the Christmas tree back then. Like he had stated previously, she only remembered when she stared at the bell, but she would remember tonight. Carrie moved toward the window where she held the bell that he had given her. After a whole half of a year, would he show up again? And if he was the son of Santa Claus, why didn’t he help his own father? There were also questions, real questions she wanted to ask so bad.

Why didn’t all good children receive gifts? Why didn’t anyone really believe in his father? Why was it when kids learned the truth, that only the gifts from their family were found under the tree, and none from Santa? There had been no evidence he existed, not even a tiny amount. Nothing. Carrie knew, and after learning the truth, she had hunted around to see if she was being misled. There were no sightings, and there was no hope. The mall Santa was fake. The radio communication that tracked his sleigh, it was invented for the children. Even a tiny amount of reindeer droppings on a roof would have helped.

Tonight she was dressed in her new birthday sweater. It was white, different than the other years for some reason. She wore some white sweatpants, and she kept her coat closed. This time she would be prepared. Instead of seeing a bedhead in a white robe and pajamas, he would see her in a better light. Carrie watched the clock impatiently, unable to rest. At eleven, she snuck downstairs. She didn’t want to risk missing him at all. She sat down, quietly watching the fireplace. Kris would be coming soon. She looked at the bell in her hand. Soon.

***

DIMENSION: THE NORTH POLE

Kris stayed beside his father’s bed. It had happened only one month before Christmas Eve, and Santa Claus couldn’t even handle loading the sleigh then. His mom got his father some water, helping him sit up to get a drink. They had some long, difficult discussions. His dad had been a great Santa Claus, but time was calling him onward. With Kris' mom’s lack of participation, the last few Christmases had been too hard. Tonight was Christmas Eve, and he wasn’t going to make it.

In their dimension, it would be a day of grief and depression. In Carrie's dimension, no one would have even known whether he came or not.

No, no. Kris had known the day would be coming, but he had hoped it was further on in the future. Where he would have that branded white beard look. Where he could pack in some cookies and actually gain some jolly weight. Instead, he would be in a skinny Santa suit, getting over acne. Not a good picture for Santa Claus.

Kris rebutted several times, but he could see the truth. The current Santa Claus wasn’t going to make it much longer.

“Kris.” His mother touched his shoulder. “You’re not alone.”

“I will be.” It slipped out before Kris could catch it. This was more than about the reign as Santa Claus.

“The elves will be here still. He’s a fighter. He could survive,” his mother said, her voice slightly wavering. “Nothing is forever, Kris. Now take his hand, just in case this is it. Kris!”

Kris ran outside into the snow and kept running, letting it overwhelm him until it was past his waist. Too cold to go on, he had hoped it would diminish the fright he felt. Kris was about to attain the magic of Santa Claus, but he could lose so much more.

His father. He reached his hands into the snow, knowing that Mrs. Claus never lived long without him. At this rate, Mr. and Mrs. Claus would both be gone before Christmas. The people who raised him. The people who loved him. His family.

Kris would be the loneliest Santa Claus that ever lived if they didn’t pull through the change. There would be no twenty years of waiting, and it was coming whether he liked it or not. He stayed out for several minutes in the bitter cold until he heard his mother call out to him. She shouldn’t be out here. She’ll go even faster. Kris turned around and started heading back to her. “Go back inside. The weather isn’t good for you.”

She said, “Mrs. Claus will be gone soon enough. Santa Claus is almost gone. Go inside.” His mother was silent a moment, giving him time to digest the news. “I know that your heart is hurting. This is something everyone has to deal with at some point.” She reached out to him, giving him a hug. He could feel her power pouring into him. “I don’t want you to be here alone. You need to find your Mrs. Santa Claus.”

“She has to come before I complete my first year.” Mrs. Claus knew it, but maybe her mind was already fading.

“You cannot be Santa Claus this year,” she said softly. “The elves need to mourn, you are too young, and it’s only right. But next year, you will be a great Santa Claus. I know it, and I know you can get your Mrs. Claus. Don’t lose her to the darkness coming.” She patted his cheek softly, but her spirit was already fading. “I am going to lie down now. Nothing else needs to be said.”

Nothing did. Kris helped her through the snow, and set her down next to his father. It was tough to tell when his mother finally passed on since she seemed at peace as soon as she lay next to his dad.

Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus. Never one without the other. Kris informed the elves, and everything stopped. No shoes were being threaded, and not a mechanical toy sounded. The whole dimension was silent, except for a few sounds of remorse.

There was a great chance that they might not make it, but even if they did, the magic of Christmas was now gone.

DIMENSION: CARRIE’S DIMENSION

Kris arrived at two AM in Carrie's world. He could already feel the darkness of the world coming down. He would need to stay closer to Carrie, lest her merriment wane and her suitability as his partner disappear through the difficult time. Carrie was sleeping in a chair, all dressed up in the glittery sweater he had picked for her this year. He moved closer to her. “Carrie Childers?”

Carrie opened her eyes slowly, and smiled with adoration. “Kris?”

“Yeah. Some plans have changed though,” he said. “We need to talk.”

They both sat in his sleigh, warm and cozy. Kris had a festive white sweater and cap, but his eyes didn’t seem to sparkle the same way as last Christmas. “What is it you want to talk about?” Carrie asked, knowing something was wrong.

“Santa Claus is dead.” The statement was blank. Pronounced. Kris had ducked his head, looking downward. “He was loading the sleigh, and got sick. Mrs. Claus passed a few minutes afterward.”

Kris was trying to keep his words tight, but his hands were clenching the reins so hard they were red and trembling. As sad as it was that the magical figure of a jolly man had ceased to exist, that wasn’t the center of it. Kris had lost both his mother and father tonight. Carrie watched his reindeer come over to the sleigh and lay its head on Kris’s lap. “I’m alright, Dougie. I'll keep hope.” He patted his reindeer on the head and sent it away. His eyes were watery, and he had no qualms about letting it show. “This Christmas, Santa isn’t coming. If your friends and family start acting weird, don’t blame them. If you have anger and hopelessness in your heart that you can’t explain, be careful. Don’t be afraid to cry or show emotion.” He cleared his throat. “I will be back soon. Have faith that I will be back.”

Carrie wanted to say that she would have faith, but she wouldn’t even remember him after that night. She didn’t want to interrupt him. He needed to let everything he had out. From a small bag behind him, he took out a strange rose. It was winter outside, but it looked like it was in summer’s full bloom. “This is a Christmas rose. It's from my home.” He wiped his eye as he gestured for her to come closer. “Keep this as carefully as you do the bell. As long as you have it in your possession, you will remember me.”

Before she could nod, he handed her the rose and moved toward directing the reins.

Carrie left the sleigh and he took off. The merry and cheery feelings from the sleigh were gone. Kris hadn’t said much about why her friends and family would act weird, or the warning about her own emotions. There must be more to Santa Claus than a person freely giving presents. Next time she saw him, she knew he would tell her more. Right now, he needed to grieve for his loss. Carrie didn’t expect to see him until next year.

She had never been more wrong. He showed up twice more. Each time, he took her riding across the sky, but didn’t say anything.

Then, it happened. The third night he came to see her. He glanced at her over a cup of warm cocoa. They were in his sleigh, both enjoying the creamiest cup of cocoa she had ever tasted.

“So, Kris. I don’t want to seem unkind, but you sure do like hanging out and riding with me randomly.” Carrie cleared her throat. “Is there a reason?”

Kris cleared his throat even louder. “There is, yeah. I need to ask something of you.”

He needed something of her? He should have said so earlier. She would help him in any way she could.

“I need you to become my Mrs. Claus.”

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.

Cruel and inhuman, her mother picked up the broken box Carrie had made and handed it to her. “Keep it. I don’t want any gifts. You hear that, Phillip!” Her mother screamed up the staircase towards her father. “I was fine without you! You turned me into the stupid mother of a preppy and I’d rather be back home again!”

Carrie heard the front door slam from behind her. A few minutes later, her father came down the stairs, his jacket and suitcase packed.

“How did I ever fall in love with such a heartless creature?” he muttered before he headed out the door.

Carrie was alone. Moving toward her bedroom, she felt the world weigh heavier on her shoulders. What would she do if they broke up? She was old enough to take care of herself, but just herself. The loan papers for college, it would be a new life, but Carrie couldn’t help anything else. She couldn't help the world. Eventually, it would sink lower and lower. She lay on the bed, a broken rag doll. One more blanket didn’t matter. One more can of food donated didn’t matter. One additional quarter in the donation box of a ringing Santa never mattered.

Before she could think much further, her eye caught the rose on her nightstand. How could she think that? Worldwide, it didn’t make a difference, but it did to that one person she helped. Carrie reached over and held the rose, trying to find comfort within it. Sighing, she felt herself want to sleep and forget the world. That was when she heard a noise outside the door. Had her mother or father come home? As she peered out, she saw Kris. What was he doing back?

As he came closer, he held his arms out to her. “What did I say about hiding your feelings?”

After that phrase, she couldn’t help herself. She launched into his arms. “My parents hardly used to fight, and now they do nonstop. My best friend left me. Kris, what’s going on?”

“It’s mass paranoia,” he said. “Everyone is losing their positivity and faith that life will be okay. Santa being right next to your dimension, it was enough to conquer this. He's gone now, so it's tough. Your parents still love each other, but their belief that they do is disappearing. Magic is faith. Faith is magic.” He cleared his throat. “When Mr. and Mrs. Claus left, magic and faith died. The power transfer isn't instant.” He held her more tightly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have left for a whole week.”

“Is it…” Carrie shuddered, dreading the response. “Fixable?”

“Yes. Yes it is, and it starts with us.” He pulled her out of the embrace and grabbed her hand. Laying his finger to the side of his nose, he whirled them up to the roof. His reindeer Dougie was pawing on the roof. He helped Carrie into the sleigh. He got on the right side and looked at her straight on. “Are you ready now?”

“It’s not a marriage. It’s a position.” Carrie closed her eyes. There wasn’t much choice. She needed to help the world come back to normal. “For my world. Okay.”

“Okay?” Kris’ eyebrows wiggled in surprise. “I thought it would take a few more trips to get a yes. Are you sure?”

“I can’t go on like this. The world doesn’t feel the same way.” She held her coat tighter.

Kris gently took the rose and held it in his hand. “Place your right hand around it.”

Insane, it was insane. Carrie was giving up her future for one she knew nothing about. Visions of her parents swam in her head again. She placed her hand around the rose.

“Now.” Kris' bravado seemed to fade. “After this last part you will no longer need bells or Christmas roses. Everything you have ever experienced that was magical will come rushing back to you. Once this part is over, we’ll go to my home to finish it. I can get you just about anything you need there, but if there is something personal inside here that you want, then you should get it now.”

Carrie nodded. Kris waited a few minutes while she grabbed the one thing she knew she would want: her photo album. After she returned, he placed it gently in the back of the sleigh.

“Close your eyes, Carrie.”