The Real Santa

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by Kodithew

by Kodithew

Sam curled up in the middle of his bed, The room nothing but a distraction at every turn. They'd tried everything; Lego's, paper Mache, Snow, but every time something went wrong. The legs fell apart, the arms were too wet and ripped, the whole thing melted, if something could go wrong, it did. After that night, they'd revoked Christmas as a holiday.

Since birth, their family had pushed forward the idea of Santa. The big jolly man coming down the chimney to give the good kids presents and the bad kids nothing. Every eve, they would sit there, trying to see him come into his room to fill the stocking, but he always seemed to get to sleep just at the wrong time.

Last Christmas, it happened. Sam stayed up all night, waiting. Finally, Santa crept in, toys in hand, the famous tangerine in tin foil too. Sam giggled, and Santa seemed to gasp. All at once, Sam leapt out to grab him, and their body froze. Standing in front, toys in one hand, tin foil tangerine in the other, was their dad, caught red-handed. He stood tall and lanky, his glasses shifting with his nose twitches. It always twitched when he was nervous, and it looked like his glasses were about to fall off. Quickly he picked up Sam, putting him in bed properly. The corners of Sam's eyes started to well, as their Dad left the room without another word.
The next day was hell. Christmas was here and Sam was as unenthused as they could be. They didn't care they had exactly what they asked for, the entire time they stared at their dad with a scowl. When Sam's sibling thanked Santa for the presents, Sam wanted to stand up and yell "HE'S NOT REAL!" and storm off, but the look their dad gave them was one of embarrassment and sadness. Sam held back, for now.
Over the coming days, Sam's dad tried time and time again to make it up to them, but Sam had none of it, locking themselves in their room every time he even made a sound.

There was a knock at Sam's door, and instinctively they shouted "GO AWAY!", placing their foot against the door in case they tried to get in. It could've been their sibling for all they knew. However, it was Sam's dad.
"Hey bud...-" He sounded defeated. Sam's foot moved a bit further away from the door, "-I've got your dinner here to give you if you still don't want to come down to eat." Sam stood still, before opening the door, their eyes welling up again for no reason. Their dad walked in, placing their food on the bed, sitting down next to it. Sam sat down next to him, scoffing down the food. They didn't even remember the last time they ate.

"So..." Sam's dad twiddled his thumbs. Sam ignored him, continuing to eat the nicely laid out pork and chips. "I wanted to thank you for not telling you sister yet, I don't think she's ready-" He began, but Sam cut him off with a tear beginning to roll in mild anger.
"I wasn't ready." They continued eating while their dad stuttered.
"No I-I know. I wasn't ready to tell you either." He twiddled his thumbs again. "I should've told you sooner. Maybe June." He pondered. Sam looked up at him, and rubbed their eyes.

"What would you have said?"
"That even though he wasn't real, it's almost like he is, in how you act. If you're good, then you feel good, and get good things afterwards." Sam put down his plate. He forgot how nicely their Dad spoke. He continued, "But if you're bad, you don't feel good, and you don't get good things after. So even though Santa isn't watching you, it still feels like he is, in a way." Sam's Dad looked down at them. Sam giggled.
"Isn't that what you do?" Their dad chuckled back.
"I guess so." Sam grabbed back their plate, finishing it off. "Good?"
"Yeah, it was really nice." Sam patted their stomach. Their Dad patted their own stomach, retorting, "I don't know, I think I have room for your leftover pudding!" Sam stood up, rushing to the table, with their dad close behind.

Dinner was the best he'd had in a while. Nothing beat eating with their family. Afterwards, them and their dad walked off to the new desk, to let Sam finally play with their toys, and their Dad to check his messages. Sam finished bashing one toy into another, and looked up at their Dad.
"Hey Dad?" They turned to face Sam, closing down their current tab.
"Yeah?" Sam gave him a hug.
"I think you're the best Santa ever."