SMC The New Mrs. Claus

Kris watched his mother and father carefully. During the magic transition, there was a high chance they wouldn’t make it. He had to keep his faith strong. He patted his mother's forehead, hoping she would wake up again. His mother and his father, they’d come back, but they were fading again. His hope may have been too much.

“Kris!”

Kris watched as Randy the elf ran over to him. Who would be bothering him now? “I don't want to see anyone right now.” He shouldn't have even had to say it.

“I know, Kris, and I'm sorry.” Randy nodded toward him. “A stranger has just arrived through a new dimension hole that has occurred.”

“A dimension hole?” No, there was no choice. His dimension was devoid of cruelty and unjust things. A stranger could change that. He had to see to it. He got up and headed out of his parents’ room as he closed the door.

In the room was a peculiar boy. He was not solid, but transparent and blue. The boy was small, nine or ten perhaps? “Greetings,” Kris said to him. “What dimension are you from?”

The boy pointed toward him and took a few steps forward. “Kris Kringle,” the boy said. “You are the new Santa.”

New Santa? “How did you know that if you’re from another dimension?” Kris took a small step back. Normally, he associated well with children. It came with the career, after all. This boy though, he felt odd. Something was wrong, and it was more than the fact he appeared as a ghost. He could feel it as he stared into his eyes. “How do you know me?”

“You need to help stop the apocalypse,” he said. “If you don't help, then everything will come to an end.”

“The darkness?”

“Yes.”

“The darkness will fix itself once Mr. Claus is restored,” Kris said. “If I don't even know your dimension, then how do you know of Santa?”

“This time, it will not. It's not strong enough.”

Kris bit his lip as he stared at the boy. There was only one person this could be. It was a fairytale though, only a fairytale. Then again, people thought Santa was only a fairytale. It could be.

Apocalypse Sun. The messenger that traveled to different dimensions, preventing the end with his prophecy. “It is odd, but I believe,” Kris said to him. “I would not be able to be the next Santa Claus if I didn't believe in magic. Magic is belief, and belief is magic.”

“Not for long. Belief only goes so far. You will need your Mrs.”

Apocalyse Sun knew of Carrie? It shouldn't have surprised Kris, but it still did. “Do you know what she looks like?”

“She has dark hair, and wears a coat that is a. . .” The boy looked toward the ceiling, probably thinking. “Golden white?”

“You see Carrie in the traditional wear?” Kris felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest. “That's wonderful.”

“Mrs. Kringle.”

“Uh?” Kris brought his hand to his mouth, biting his fingers. “That would be Mrs. Claus, and only if I'm really lucky.”

“No, you have two marriages. Claus and Kringle. One ties your life force to each other, but the other ties you lovingly to each other,” Apocalypse Sun said. “You can start with one, but soon afterwards, you'll need the second. The dimensions have to be tied together.”

“Mrs. Kringle?” Kris stared at the boy, not believing that he got it. Not wanting to believe that he understood it. “Not Mrs. Claus?” Kris gestured to his left. “Mrs. Kringle? I'd be lucky to get Mrs. Claus, how can I get Mrs. Kringle?” Soon too? “How soon is soon?”

“Two years, maybe less. Mrs. Claus has to happen soon though.”

“Two years, maybe less?” That's it? “Not even ten? I get it's not a hundred, but not even ten?” Kris complained.

The boy didn't answer though. He simply faded away.

***

Kris grabbed his mother's hand. “Mother? Well?”

His mother sighed. “It explains the lingering darkness. The inability we had to travel back and forth for so long. Oh, dear. Oh, dear.”

“Mom?” Kris looked at her. “What do I do?”

“It's clear, Kris. You're not getting any extended life.” His mother held out her hand toward him. “You have to make her Mrs. Kringle and Claus.”

“Our dimension isn't affected. There's too much magic. It’s too concentrated.”

“Your Mrs. Claus' dimension will be affected, and it will only be a matter of time, Kris.”

Kris covered his face. “I haven't even gotten her to agree to Mrs. Claus. How can I ask Mrs. Kringle of her? Of, of anyone?”

“Kris, I know you aren't a young boy anymore. I understand, but love is an important thing in the universe.”

“It's so personal,” Kris said. “Traditionally, Mr. and Mrs. Claus are friends for years until the eventual love blossoms into Mrs. Kringle. With this, I can't hide that fact from Carrie.”

“It feels right, when it's the right one.” She closed her eyes again. “A stranger knew of us and foretold you the future. Kris, everything has its reason. Your Carrie's world, it depends on this one for its strength. We are dying. You must save the other dimension. You must save your Mrs. Claus. If you can't, you will have to take another.”

No, he didn't ever want to do that. “She doesn't want to be with me as a partner, let alone as a real wife.” Kris covered his face again. “It would not be easy to get her to say yes. There has to be something else. Anything else?” He touched her forehead, her hand, and checked her breathing. “Mom?”

“They can only last so long Kris,” Randy the elf said as he came to his side. “Even if they survived the magic exchange, they are getting weaker again. Be thankful you had some time with them afterward.”

“But it wasn't enough.” Kris stroked his mother's hair. “You never met her, Mother. You have to meet her. Could you hang on to meet her?” It was no use. His dad still had not woken up even once.

The end, the real end. He knew it.

“Santa never has parents around for long.” Randy held his shoulder. “They lived centuries, and they made the choice. You're older now, Kris. You'll be okay.” He patted his shoulder.

Kris didn't say anything as he left the room.

He heard a couple of utters behind him, but they felt meaningless. He moved outside and walked towards Dougie, patting his head. “They are gone now, Mom and Dad. Both are gone.” Dougie rubbed against his hand. “I've got to figure out how to take care of their bodies, and I need to tell Carrie that she has to move faster than ever.” Kris felt a tear slip down his cheek, but he didn't care.

The elves helped him bury his parents deep in the tallest cliffs where other Kringles had been laid to rest. He rode around in the sleigh a few hours, clearing his mind.

***

As time went by, Kris had visited Carrie’s world several times whenever he could, and he’d seen firsthand the lack of faith. Belief. The power of good. Every person in every country had been touched. Trees, stockings, and lights that year were no longer out. It was as if the world had taken one huge sigh, thrown its hands in the air, and muttered ‘what’s the point’?

Kris was Mr. Claus now, and even if the world didn’t want him, he wouldn’t abandon it. Even if he had to leave gifts on tables and candy in mailboxes, he would persevere. But, this year it was going to be different. He would be doing something that no Santa had ever done before. Without faith and belief, he couldn’t hide Christmas with magic.

Kris hoped she was waiting. Without him being able to visit her, what had happened to her kind spirit? Kris placed the red cap on his forehead, and then held the reins.

It was time.

CHRISTMAS 2013

DIMENSION: CARRIE’S DIMENSION

Carrie should have grabbed that Christmas Rose. The tears she had shed since that night she saw Kris had been so many she could have filled an ocean. It was cliche, but it felt so true. The tree the Salvation Army always put up had been abandoned before even one angel donation could be fulfilled. Homelessness was at an all-time high. The home that Carrie loved and appreciated had dwindled down to two: Carrie and her father. Her mother had moved back east, and she refused to talk to her or her dad on the phone.

Jenny never made up with Carrie. In fact, she joined the popular clique at school that she used to hate. When Carrie went to school, Jenny called out to her and said something mean every time. Even Carrie's simplest secrets like her favorite Christmas CDs were the main source of Jenny's laughter.

No one hoped or dreamed anymore. There were no Christmas trees or lights on people’s houses. Children never played outside, and people never left their homes except to go to work or school. There had been several arrests with people trying to carry a gun as they walked to work, terrified that someone would shoot them. Outside her window, there were now bars to keep her safe. College was no longer a worry, her dad thought it was best that she stay safe inside the bars. He was convinced someone would shoot her if she left the house. They did all of their shopping online, even grocery.

When Kris said the world would become dark, he wasn’t lying. Carrie knew that in her heart. Every person out there was miserable and paranoid. She used to think when Christmas came, she wouldn’t speak a word and just get it over with quickly. With no trees or stockings though, and no hope left in the world? Why would there ever be a Christmas? Carrie tried to stay positive, but it grew hard when her dad quit his job. After the first of January, they were supposed to be moving into a small apartment because his money was draining too fast.

Carrie could no longer keep her job. Not only was it out of the house, but no one wanted anything gift wrapped.

The weather outside was a blistering snowstorm. The skies during the day were often shadowed in shades of grey.

She tried to hold on to the belief that Christmas would come, but it was fading. How could Christmas happen if no one wanted it? Carrie clung to the pillow in front of her, punishing herself by remembering Kris’ eyes. He would never come. No, he would. No, she hoped he would. He had to.

Please. He had to come save everything from the darkness.

That night, she lay awake until eleven o' clock. She heard a sound in the living room, and her heart leaped along with her feet out the door. Standing there in a similar outfit to when they first met was Kris. He wore a traditional Santa hat and cap. His eyes questioned hers before he slowly reached out to her. “Are you ready?”

“For…Christmas?” Carrie's voice was so soft, she didn’t know if he could hear. When he nodded his head, she quickly nodded hers back and headed toward him. “No one believes in anything anymore. My mother left, and my friend is gone. The whole world would rather carry a gun and shoot than say hello to one another!” She received a slight ‘oof’ out of him as she landed in his arms.

“Oh, Carrie.” He wrapped his arms tighter around her. He'd missed her so much, especially now that his family had left him. “They’re gone now. My parents, they are gone now.”

“Oh.” Carrie whispered softly. “The transfer?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. I can never apologize enough for what happened. I should have been more understanding.”

“No, I should have explained the magic.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “I want to do this tonight. I want to help my world again, but how do we start?”

“Slowly. There’s more to dropping off gifts than people realize.” He whisked them away to the top of the roof. Carrie was expecting to see Dougie and the usual sleigh, but instead she saw nine reindeer and a gigantic sleigh. “You know Dasher and Dancer and the others from your carols,” Kris said as he stepped in. “Dougie’s up front.”

Carrie watched Dougie look back at her with his familiar eyes. He pawed the roof, the signal he was ready to get out of there. Carrie's eyes lingered on the sleigh. This wasn't Kris's small red one.

“The Christmas sleigh,” Kris said to her. “During Christmas, we'll be living in the sleigh. The bigger it is, the more at home we will be.”

Carrie nodded, still not quite understanding the words. Living in the sleigh? She moved into the sleigh and saw a large sack in the back. There was no way that was enough for every good child in the world. “How do we begin?”

“Little Paul Summer, your next door neighbor. He will be good practice.” Kris wriggled the reins. “Yo, guys.” The reindeer ran off the house and moved through the sky to the next house over. Kris and Carrie got out and moved over toward the chimney. “This time, you try.” He placed his finger almost beside his nose. “Do this.”

As Carrie mimicked him, she found herself surrounded by a whisking wind. She turned around and saw herself inside the Summer home. She did that? Looking around, the place was as empty in feeling as her home had been. Where were they supposed to place the present? She watched as Kris showed up next to her with a single gift.

“With no tree, I’d say on the table.” Kris didn’t question the absence of the tree, simply laid it down on the table.

“What is it?” She asked curiously. “Do you know what it’s supposed to be?”

“Yes, and so do you if you try.” He looked back at her and smiled. “What does Paul like?”

“Trucks, engines, math contests, and books about robots.” Wait, how did she know that? “I have barely met him, why do I know that?”

“You have the power of Mrs. Claus, and it’s at its height right now.” Kris touched the ribbon on the present. It had gotten twisted slightly on the journey.

As she stared at the present, a strange feeling washed over her. A feeling of hope. Maybe they could help to heal the world. “Magical.”

“Hope wrapped up in a box, tied with a bow.” Kris crossed his arms. “I never got tired of helping the elves as a child. The more I wrapped, the happier I became. By morning, the excitement of the gift will wash over this family. The apprehension will start to disappear, and their faith will become normalized.”

“But no one is giving gifts,” Carrie remarked. “How will you hide this time?”

“I won’t. The gift tags won’t change. This time, the overwhelming evidence we leave will create a resurgence of belief and faith again. Once faith is again in this world, the magic will hide itself against them. For one brief day, Carrie, everyone will believe.” He turned to her and his eye glinted. “How else do you help a darkening world but to prove that Santa Claus is real?”

Carrie moved over toward the gift and saw his writing. From: Santa Claus.

“”We didn’t know if you’d agree when we wrote tags.” Kris brought out a pen. “If you want to sign though, you can. As Mrs. Claus. Only if you want to.”

Carrie gently took the pen and wrote ‘and Mrs. Claus’ below his name. “We’ve wasted over five minutes in this house. How are we going to cover everyone in time?”

“I thought you’d guessed that by now.” Kris moved toward the window and breathed on it. His breath hung, unmoving, in the air. “There is a reason no one runs into us, security alarms don’t go off, and we don’t get chased by dogs. Everything slows down, except us.” He moved back over towards her. “If you had to do a Christmas by yourself, the same thing would happen.” Kris shrugged. “We do it, but we don’t know how. It's what happens when Santa stays in your dimension on this particular night alone for a few hours. Isn’t magic fun?”

He introduced her to the lists. It turned out there were more than one: the original nice list his ancestors used, and then there were the new light/medium/dark gray lists. The light gray list was for those who weren’t nice, but it was because they had no choice. A child lying or stealing for good reasons would put them on the light gray list. Paul Summer was on that list. Carrie was about to understand the difference.

Kris headed toward a room, signaling her from behind. He opened the boy’s room. Why had Kris gone in there? He headed toward the boy’s bed and pulled out a small gift from his pocket.

Carrie looked toward the package, getting a sense of what it was. But was that right? What good would that do a young child? “Kris?” she whispered.

“No need to whisper. Time’s slowed for everything but us, remember?” He glanced back at her. “The gift, right?” She nodded coming closer. “You know what it is?”

“It’s an old watch with something inside…” She felt a connection to the watch that didn’t seem to go with the boy.

“He is on the light gray list because he has been lying to his father about eating breakfast at school. He has been missing it and stashing the money to place back in his father’s pocket. Before the world went dark. Now, he has no schooling to do that anymore.” He gestured to the watch. “Lost on a corner of Douglas and 22nd, that watch was a precious gift missing nearly two years to someone who owns a business near here. Once he shows his father, he’ll see the familiar name on the personalized engraving and hopefully he will take it to him. We can’t predict the future, but we have faith that it will land him a job.”

Carrie blinked. He was giving a gift, in order to try and help someone get a job? “After they don’t remember it was a gift, then they will assume he actually found it out of goodwill.” She couldn’t believe it. “Where did you find the watch?”

“The used-to-be tooth fairies collect from the lost and found. Items that are shiny and desirable that won’t be missed. Sometimes they recover something personal like this that will help out.” He dusted off his knees. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Although, now she was feeling uncomfortable. Carrie had thought maybe he zapped presents down, or threw them magically from the sled. Were they going into each and every house, dropping off gifts? This would seem like one night for the world. Wouldn’t it feel like years for them? “It’s one night for everyone else. How long for us?”

“Don’t think about it. Just have faith that we can do it.” He chuckled when he saw her expression. “Elves do more than make toys. They help deliver. So do the fairies and pixies. They really do most of the heavyweight lifting. We deliver personally to the houses that require special visits like this one.” He lingered on her clothes for a second. “Um. Did you want to wear your traditional wear, or that?”

Carrie looked at her sweater. What was it that Mrs. Claus wore? No one knew she actually accompanied Mr. Claus, and the only pictures she remembered were of her in an apron making cookies. She doubted Kris would want to shove her into an apron. “What does she wear?”

After they went back up the chimney, Kris pulled it out of the sled. The white sweaters he had given her at Christmas now made sense. Mrs. Claus' wardrobe was far from an apron. Santa may have worn red, but Mrs. Claus wore a wintry golden white. The shirt and pants sparkled with a golden sheen.

“Do you want to wear it?” Kris held it out to her. “Try it on. I’ll stay here, and you can go down the chimney.”

Carrie did go down the chimney, but it felt weird changing in a person’s house. Time speed was different, so she guessed it would be okay. She tried it on and went to a bathroom mirror. The top she could see was beautiful. How could history forget this outfit? She hooked the belt on last, a silvery color that shimmered as she fastened it. When she came back up, she moved over toward the sleigh and got in.

Kris nearly fell out of the sleigh when he saw her. “Wow. Yes, nice. I mean, correct looking.” He glanced away and then back at her. “That fits you.”

As she felt the heat on her cheeks, she knew the white of the outfit could not be helping the red probably showing on her face. She looked away, pulling the hood tighter around herself.

***

Carrie didn’t know how much time went by. They went from house to house, and each time she felt a different presence. No two houses were the same, and no two families needed the same thing. As they traveled across the sky, they moved from city to city.

“Yo, Dougie, slow it down,” Kris called to Dougie in front. He looked over toward Carrie and showed her the reins. “Do you want to hold them?”

“I don’t know how to steer reindeer.”

“They don’t teach that like driving cars?” He smiled, letting her know it was a joke. “The reindeer know the way. They just need to know when you want to turn, take off, and stop. To turn, turn the reins. To stop, you can snap the rein or yell stop. Same thing for takeoff.”

Carrie turned the reins, and watched the reindeer turn direction. Kris was right, and it wasn’t too difficult to do. They continued onward until the reindeer landed on their own.

As soon as they hit the roof, her mind became clear. Charles―39, Mannie―five, Rebecca―three and a half, and a mother that had passed on a month ago. Carrie knew what each of them looked like, as if they were old friends. There was no chimney, but it wasn’t needed. They whirled down into the house through a simple pipe sticking up out of the house. Carrie had visited many houses with Kris, but this home shocked her the most. There was actually a small fake tree, and three stockings hung by a fire. “How did they manage to keep their faith so boldly?”

“Tragedy can cause one to lose faith, or it can enhance it.” Kris settled the present down beneath the tree. “Two people here are on the dark gray list.”

Dark gray. Bordering on the naughty list, they’d done something wrong for themselves. “What happened?” Carrie looked toward the door of the children’s room. Their door was littered with crayon pictures of Santa Claus and his reindeer.

“The boy and girl were mean to each other. They don’t really believe in me or you. They’ve been on the naughty list every year, but with losing their mother, they need some kind of faith. They’ve started believing. Even their father is trying to support the belief.” He gestured to the tree. “He looked for two whole weeks to find their old tree. It was hiding in the basement.”

It popped out before Carrie could even comprehend the words she said. “What does the dark gray list get?”

“Enough to know that if they are good next year, they’ll get more.” He yanked a card out of his coat and placed it in each stocking. “A personalized card from us, letting them know to be good next year. They won’t be disappointed since none of them expected gifts. They’ll just be happy to know their faith paid off.”

“One more thing,” she urged him, “their mother just died, Kris, and this is the first family with a tree and stocking. Faith is so hard to keep.”

Kris bit his lip. “Well, if you want to pick it. What should they get?”

“Something more.” But what? She had no idea either, but this family was hurting. She could feel so much suffering in the house. “A real big tree, with colorful and glittering ornaments. Something bigger, more visual than a card.”

“Like that?”

Carrie turned around and saw what she wanted. Exactly how she wanted it. “How did you do that?”

“I didn’t,” Kris said. “You are my Mrs. Claus. While I understand the details of each house better, you feel the emotions of them more. You were raised in their world, and you understand their suffering in a way I never can. That’s why there are really two Clauses.” He approached the tree. “Both halves of the same.”

Carrie pointed her finger to the top of the tree and watched the star light up. The lights cascaded from dark to bright, one light bulb at a time. She couldn’t help a smile. Everything felt right, including his wording. If Jenny heard how many times he said ‘my’, she would be decking him by now. Carrie hadn’t understood it at first, but now she did.

She wasn’t just his. He was hers. If she said ‘my Mr. Claus’, she doubted he would even blink. Still, he might be used to it, but the concept was still new to her. Maybe she’d try that one day.

That wasn’t the last time she helped out a house that night. Although, she used the word night loosely. It might have been one night to the world, but to Carrie it felt like days. Days of entering people’s homes and bringing them the hope they needed. She understood without having to ask anymore so many of the details. The sack was for gifts that couldn’t be wished. The lost watch and personal cards written to people couldn’t be conjured by faith and imagination. In the last house they visited, she had conjured a present she had known Kris missed again. She even gave it a wrapping paper that glittered with a deep green fancy bow on top.

Inside the sack on the sleigh was where their food and pillows were. When they got tired, they slept a few hours before going on their way. The seats when folded back were comfortable, better than the best mattress out there. They shared a huge blanket that was large enough to cover the sleigh and kept them warm in even the coldest weather. They wrapped it over four times and lay down, warm and toasty. When they were hungry, there was food in the sack. Primitive things like fruit and sandwiches. Fruitcake wasn’t uncommon to have either, and it tasted better than the kind her aunt used to make.

Carrie had begun to think that Christmas would never end. She wondered if she wanted it to ever end. Being able to bring joy into people’s hearts, it was absolutely wonderful. She always felt so warm and cozy beside Kris. She also felt cherished. She knew her mother and father loved her, and she knew when the world went back to the way it had been, that her life would probably fall back to normal. But, was that really what she wanted?

So far, Kris had not pushed the question about being Mrs. Claus. Conversations stayed about Christmas and the families they were visiting. When they rode through the air he told her stories about his life, and she told him about her own life. As time went by, she began to understand the Claus and Kringle connection. There used to be many elves living in Kris' dimension, but only a few had enough hope and strength to have magic. Out of those, two were chosen as the leaders, and the magic was passed to them. The leaders went by different names. Some went by Father Christmas and Mother Christmas. Most of them lately had gone by Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus.

Kris said that when the faith on Earth waned more and more, each Kringle felt they needed to leave with the others. Soon his dimension only held the closest and most dedicated Kringles.

That conversation would have helped so much in the beginning. Kris couldn’t change what was said between them, but Carrie did regret many things she said. Especially knowing that his parents were no longer around. As they neared their two hundred and somethingth house, she decided it was time to speak up. “I am sorry.”

Kris looked back at her, a little confused. “What for?”

“For not understanding. Our worlds really are different. I have wanted to apologize, it’s just that… I am just really sorry.” Carrie wondered if he would start asking about her future plans, but he didn’t. He nodded, said he understood, and apologized again himself. They were both at fault.

“Carrie.” Kris placed the reins down as he landed. He began to drag the big blanket for sleeping back out again. Carrie didn't mind. Breaks were nice, and they even had large thermoses of cocoa to help keep them warm. She fixed her seat and grabbed her pillow, snuggling up warm inside the blanket.

“Things have changed.” Kris looked toward her, his eyes full of confusion. “There has never been a Mr. Claus that didn't end up with his Mrs. Kringle. They would be friends for awhile, but eventually, they always married.”

Carrie moved out of her covers slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Mrs. Claus almost always starts out only as a partner.” Kris gently took her hand. “That's what I wanted for us. I didn't want to push you into anything more.”

Carrie had that feeling. “I sort of knew that, in a way.” It was another reason she didn't know about becoming Mrs. Claus.

“Everyone got time though. Every single Santa before me had that luxury.” Kris let go of her hand. “We don't.”

“What do you mean?” Carrie backed up some.

“When I went back home, right before my parents died, someone had pierced a hole into my dimension.” Kris rubbed his neck. “A boy.”

“People pierced a hole into the North Pole?” How was that even possible?

“He knew about the darkness, about me, and about you. It was prophesized.”

“About me?” Carrie had never even been to the North Pole, and she had never met his parents. “The only one I've ever met is you.”

“I know. The messenger is the key to the darkness.” Kris sighed. “It's an apocalypse. It may be affecting different dimensions in different ways, but the end is the end. All of the dimensions will disappear. Bringing Christmas might not be enough.”

“Well, what did the messenger say?” Carrie asked curiously.

Kris fidgeted with his fingers. “I need Mrs Claus to slow the darkness but Mrs. Kringle to stop that.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that Mr. and Mrs. Claus must become more than partners.” Kris scooted back a little himself. “There won't be hundreds of years for us. You eventually need to be Mrs. Kringle.”

There was silence in the sleigh for a good five minutes.

“The magic of Christmas, I hope it's enough,” Kris finally spoke.

“It has to be enough.” Carrie couldn't do that. “I-I was dealing with the fact that I would have to leave my world for good if I take the role. This is too much.”

“I know, and I hope so too. If in a year or so, you . . .” He had something hard to say. “Normally, I would just do it by myself, because the longer I've spent with you, the less I could ever see myself giving gifts with anyone else. Mrs. Claus is still really sacred. But? If, if you think later that you can't, then I promise. I'll go on and I'll find someone different. Just, if you give it a chance first then . . .” Kris' eyes didn't follow his words though.