Cynthia and the Christmas Gift - Reposted

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Cynthia and the Christmas Gift - Reposted
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By Portia Bennett

This is a little stand-alone story that eventually became part of a chapter in Cynthia and the High School Years — Part 1. As there are many new readers at this site, I thought they might enjoy another Christmas story. If you enjoy the story and are not familiar with the characters, you might want to read the Cynthia Chronicles.


 

This is my take on the Spells R Us universe. I want to thank Holly for her help and friendship.

This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.


 

Cynthia and the Christmas Gift

 

“Hey, hold the elevator!”

“Sure, Virgil, we’re in no hurry.”

The two store workers made room for Virgil’s substantial bulk as he hobbled across the floor of the loading dock area in the rear of the Dillard’s Department Store. It was the day before Christmas, and the store’s employees were getting ready for the onslaught of last minute shoppers looking for that gift they hadn’t yet found, or maybe thinking it was time to find something at a bargain price.

Gary Smith and Eugene White, longtime store employees who worked in the shipping and receiving area, had known Virgil Stankowski for years. Virgil had been the store Santa since before they had gone to work there. In fact, they remembered Virgil from their childhood. Virgil had changed a bit since those days. He had always been heavy and never needed to pad his 5’ 7” frame when he donned the Santa suit. As long as they could remember, Virgil had a beard. The difference was that now he didn’t have to spray it with temporary, white hair coloring before he donned the white wig. Virgil’s beard was now snow white, and the ring of hair surrounding his bald pate was also white.

There were other differences. Virgil’s weight had increased dramatically over the years, especially since his beloved Margaret had passed away. If the truth was known, Virgil probably weighed close to 400 pounds, and it was taking its toll on him. That fact was obvious to the two store employees. Even though the loading dock area was quite cold, Virgil was sweating profusely. His face was red and he was breathing with a raspy wheeze.

“Thanks, guys,” he said as he mopped his brow with a folded linen hanky, “That customer elevator is a long way away; too far for this old man.” He leaned his cane against the boxed television set and settled on the arm of a couch being taken to the showroom floor. Gary and Eugene winced as his bulk settled down and the chair creaked in complaint.

“It’s okay, Virgil,” Gary said, “this may not be a passenger elevator, but I don’t think anyone is going to say anything about you using it. Besides, it’s closer to your dressing area and Santa’s Workshop to go this way.

“So, do you have anything planned for tonight?”

“No, the forecast is for snow starting around 8:00 this evening. It would probably be best to just stay at home.”

Virgil never had any plans for Christmas, anymore. The joy of Christmas for him was seeing the happy faces of the children as they got to express their wishes while sitting on his lap. The photographer would take their pictures and ‘his’ elves would pass out Christmas candies to them. Oh, he had to put up with terrified toddlers, and the know-it-all older children who tugged on his beard to prove he was a fake, even though their parents would insist that although he may not be the real Santa, he was Santa’s helper, and Santa would know if they misbehaved.

His physical problems were starting to overwhelm him. In spite of all his attempts to lose weight, he continued to gain. He was hypertensive and diabetic. His knees were shot and his right hip needed replacement. The doctor assured him that if he could get his weight down his diabetes would probably go into remission. The problem was he was caught in a spiraling physical decline. If he could exercise, his hypertension and weight might get better; however, he couldn’t exercise because of his knees and hip, and the doctors insisted he wasn’t a candidate for replacement surgery until he lost at least 150 pounds. Compounding the problem was that his health plan would not cover lap band or stomach bypass surgery. He had a small retirement check, and the fact he was considered disabled gave him enough money to get by — barely. There was another problem. He just didn’t care anymore.

He huffed and wheezed his way to the dressing area, and saw two of his ‘elves’ heading for the sales floor. They usually made sure everything was ready for the onslaught of children who were sure to be arriving shortly after the store opened. The elves were usually an assortment of ‘little people’ and teenaged girls. The latter worked for minimum wage; however, many of the little people were paid as actors. The same group was usually there year after year.

The girls were a different matter. They were almost always different every year. This year was no different.

“Hi, Mister Stankowski, it’s our last day. Ready for tonight and a bit of a rest at the north pole afterwards?” Cindy was a beautiful golden blonde who filled out her elf costume rather spectacularly. Her equally beautiful friend was Bobbie. They had to be the warmest and friendliest elves who had ever worked with him. It was strange, because the two hadn’t started out as elves that year. They were just store customers. Cindy had been escorting her little sister, who had to have been about five, through the line. Bobbie was with her boyfriend and his little brother.

Something must have happened because as the three teenagers approached, the two girls suddenly got strange looks on their faces. They left the two small children with the boyfriend and stepped away from the line. The blonde girl, Cindy, took her phone out of her purse. ‘That must have been it,’ he thought, ‘it had rung or whatever they do and she must have heard it.’ She talked rather animatedly for a minute and then passed the phone to the redheaded Bobbie, who became similarly animated. They had returned to the line to rescue the boyfriend just in time for the two small children to get on Santa’s lap.

Virgil hadn’t thought much about it; however, later in the afternoon, he could have sworn he saw the two girls with an elderly blind man and a Seeing Eye dog. They had been looking his way, and then departed. Then the next morning, the two girls had showed up as elves. They had worked the final week before Christmas. He couldn’t remember having worked with two nicer, more thoughtful young adults. He had found out they were both 16; however, looking at them, he would have thought they were much older, especially Cindy.

His thoughts returned to the present and the two girls standing in front of him. ‘I’m glad this is the last day. This old body isn’t going to be able to take much more of this.

“So do you have anything planned for this evening?” he asked.

“It’s probably going to be snowing, but a group of us from the church are going caroling. Cindy and I have done all our shopping, and all our presents are wrapped. What are you planning on doing?”

“Not much; I’ll probably watch television and drink some hot cider. Then I will just go to sleep.” He didn’t add that he had to sleep in his recliner because he had trouble breathing if he lay down. “I don’t have any family, you know. Tomorrow, I’ll probably watch a football game. There won’t be any reason to go out.”

Santa was on his throne when the first children arrived. Cindy and Bobbie would help keep the children amused during the long wait in line, passing out peppermints or small candy canes, with the parent’s approval, to keep them busy.

Around mid day one of the toddlers had an ‘accident’ on Santa’s lap and he had to take a break to change his trousers. Fortunately there was a second pair for just such emergencies. When he returned to Santa’s throne, the line was as long as ever.

About an hour later a young boy who had to be about ten approached him. This was a bit unusual for visitors to a department store Santa.

“Well, young man, what’s your name and what do you want for Christmas?” he said, thinking all the time that the boy was much too old to be sitting on his lap.

The boy spoke softly as if he didn’t want his parents, who were standing a few feet away, to hear him. “I’m Barry, and I don’t want anything for me. It’s just that Mom and Dad are so sad, and I wanted to get them something to make them a bit happier.”

“That’s very nice of you. What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know, and that’s why I’m here. I need some help. You see, my little sister died last month. She got the swine flu. I got it, too, but it wasn’t too bad. All mom does is cry at night, and dad is so sad. I guess I am, too.”

Virgil didn’t know what to say. “Barry, I’m not sure there is anything I can do. I would sure like to.” Then he said something, and he wasn’t certain why he did. “Why don’t you and your parents come back after a while? Maybe I can come up with something.”

“Thank you, Santa. I know you’re not really Santa, but I thought you might have some connections.” He slid off of Santa’s lap and rejoined his parents who gave Virgil a sad little smile as they turned to go to somewhere else in the store or mall.

Virgil noticed that the elves had put up the barrier and a sign saying Santa would be back in 15 minutes. He could use the break. His arm ached from holding the children and he was beginning to get short of breath. He realized that Cindy and Bobbie were holding his arms as he hobbled to the break area. It was really strange, though, because when he sat down he realized he was not in the usual place. In fact, he was sure he had never been in this place before. It had to be in the back of one of the connecting stores.

“Where is this? I don’t think this is part of Dillard’s.”

“No it’s not, Virgil. You are in the back of my shop.”

Virgil looked up to see a gangly man dressed in what appeared to be a tatty robe decorated with stars and crescents. He was wearing wire rimmed glasses, and he had a rather scraggly beard. A large dog next to him was wearing a guide dog harness. The man looked familiar to him and it took a few seconds for him to realize that this was the elderly blind man he had seen with Bobbie and Cindy the week before: except he wasn’t blind.

“What’s going on? I don’t feel very well.”

“You are having a heart attack. It’s a mild one at the moment, but tonight you will have a severe one, and it will be fatal,” Bobbie said rather sadly.

“How do you know that? You are only a sixteen year old girl. You’re not a doctor.”

“No, I’m not. I am a witch, and Cindy’s a witch; and His Wisdom is a very powerful wizard. We know some things about you and want to help you, if you will let us, before it is too late.”

“First of all, we know something that only your late wife knew about you,” Cindy had entered the conversation.

“What would that be?”

“That you have always felt that you were a girl. I sensed that last week when we were in line with my little sister and Bobbie’s boyfriend and his little brother. That’s one of my powers. Bobbie’s power is that she can sense what’s physically wrong with someone who is like you are.”

“That’s the silliest thing I have ever heard,” Virgil said, his voice expressing his exhaustion. “Have you been spying on me? Did you break into my house and look in my computer?

“Since you know what you know, I guess there’s nothing I can do about it. What do you want — money? I can assure you I have none.”

“No, the only thing we want is for you to trust us. You deserve a better fate than to die in your home on Christmas Eve without a family at your side. You lost the only family you ever had when your wife died, and now we want to give you a chance to have the family you never had.”

Virgil realized that the diagnosis of his having a heart attack was probably correct. There was pain in the collar bone area of his left shoulder and it was radiating down his left arm. He was beginning to feel slightly nauseated and a bit cold and clammy.

“I think you need to call an ambulance.”

“That won’t be necessary if you let us help you.”

“I mean, what are you going to do? You aren’t doctors. You already told me that. And, this magic stuff you are spouting is nonsense.”

“You don’t have to believe any of this,” Cindy said a bit too strongly, “but eight years ago I was a thirty-five year old man and Bobbie was a nine year old boy. His Wisdom helped both of us become the girls you see.

“Your Wisdom, we don’t have much time. Show him something.”

“How about this?” He started morphing as Virgil watched. His clothing changed from a tattered robe into an ermine decorated, red Santa Claus suit. The Wizard lost a few inches and gained a few pounds. In a matter of a few seconds there was a very acceptable image of a Santa Claus standing before them.

“”Ho, ho, ho,” he rasped in a rather high tenor. “That won’t do at all.” He stretched and rotated his neck a bit. “Ho, ho, ho,” he said in a much pleasanter and lower voice. “That’s much better.

“What do you think, Virgil? Will I pass?”

“I think you will. That was amazing. That still doesn’t mean you can do anything for me.”

“Here, take these aspirin. They’ll help for now.” The Wizard handed him two 325 mg tablets and a glass of water. “We already know that you are a girl inside. Why don’t you let me fix that while I can? I can only do it while you are alive. I can fix your heart, if you want, and you could live a few more years with bad knees, a bad hip, diabetes, and emphysema. However, there is something you could do that will make a family whole again. You can grow up as the girl you know you are, and when you reach a certain point a few years from now you will remember what you want to about your previous life and what happened. If you feel up to it, you could give me an endorsement. I can always use good publicity.

“What do you say? Would you be willing to try it? I think you will find it exceeds all your expectations.”

“You know, I have nothing to lose. If you can’t do this, there’s always the heart attack and dying. Go for it.”

“It’s already done, Ginny. How old are you?”

“I’m five, Mr. Wizard” she looked down at her warm woolen outfit and little inclement weather boots. “I’m really five, aren’t I? I want my Mommy.”

“She will be here in a moment. So will your father and brother. You shouldn’t wander away like that. You stick with them from now on.”

The bell at the front door tinkled. “What a strange little shop. I thought this was a Hallmark Shop.

“Ginny, are you back there?” her mother called.

“I’m back here, Mommy. These nice people gave me some hot chocolate. I got losted.”

“Young lady, am I going to have to put a leash on you?”

Barry and Ginny’s parents followed by Barry came through the beaded curtain to the rear of the shop.

“Thank you so much for looking after our little girl. She does this all the time. She’s there one moment, and then she’s gone. The folks next door said they thought they saw her come in here.

“Ginny, there’s a Santa Claus next door in Dillard’s. Do you want to see him?”

“Mommy, is that the same Santa we saw at Penny’s last week?”

“No, this is a different Santa. Remember what we said about Santa having helpers. He can’t be in all these places without helpers.” Ginny’s mom looked up and smiled at The Wizard, who was now in his familiar attire. “Thank you again. I guess we are going to go see another Santa.”

The family turned and left the shop to the sound of the little bell. Cindy and Bobbie burst into tears and cried on each others’ shoulder while The Wizard pulled a linen hanky out of his previously non-existent pocket and dabbed at his eyes. The wolf wagged his tail.

“Oh, my God, we have to get back to the store. The break’s over,” shouted Bobbie. “Wait, there’s no Santa. What are we going to do?”

“That’s not a problem at all.” They turned to see The Wizard as he had been before. The only difference was that he was wearing dark glasses and the wolf was once again in his guide dog harness. “We have a few minutes: are there any questions?”

“Your Wisdom, that was the fastest transformation I never saw,” exclaimed Cindy. “I mean, it was instantaneous.”

“Actually, it took 43 nanoseconds. I extracted her DNA from some hair that was in her mother’s purse, so I didn’t have to be too creative. I bumped into her when they were visiting Virgil earlier. I did boost her immunity factor a bit, so the flu thing shouldn’t happen again. Fix your makeup. We have a couple of hours before the store closes.

~~~~~*~~~~~~

Barry, Ginny and their parents made their way into Dillard’s where they took the escalator to the second floor and the Christmas Wonderland. There was still a line of children waiting to have their picture taken with the blind Santa Claus and his handsome guide dog.

Ginny looked toward the elves, two of whom for some reason she thought she recognized. Then she looked up at the jolly man in the red suit. Remembering the discussion she had had with her mother, she remarked, “Oooh, Mommy, there’s a Santa Claus.”

“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.”

~~~~~*~~~~~~

Please, everyone, have a joyous holiday season.

Portia

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Comments

Cynthia and the Christmas Gift - Reposted

Thank you for reposting this wonderful story.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

re:story

as stan said, thank you. it read as good this time as before.
robert

001.JPG

Maybe...

Andrea Lena's picture

...like great Italian cooking, it is even more appealing savored this time around! Simply superb!
Milli grazie, mi sorella!



Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Ginny Later In Life

littlerocksilver's picture

Some of you, well maybe two or three, might want to know what happened to Ginny. She becomes one of Randi Lewis's best friends and she makes an appearance in Randi and the College Professor. And yes, she does remember. Oh, she is also briefly in Cynthia and the High School Years.

Portia

Portia

Merry Christmas

I liked this story just all you others I've read. When your good your good. Christmas is my favite holiday, so that just makes it better.

Speedy

more please

I love your Cynthia Chronicles are you going to do more

Portia, this is still a

Portia, this is still a wonderful Christmas story that I feel will become a yearly classic on Top Shelf. Janice Lynn

I've been

through your stuff before, but I guess this wasn't here then.

I really like it.

I'm still crying.

T

Better than ever!

gillian1968's picture

Thanks for resharing this, Portia!
I fondly remember reading it the first time.

And I hope you have a joyous new year!

Gillian Cairns

That was great ! You had the

That was great ! You had the wolf/dog. And no one was turned into a blond bimbo.
You even granted the little boy's wish.

Kevin