“So, is this supposed to show you how good I am at sorting food?” Dragonborn broke the long silence.
Santa folded down the top of a box and set it with others ready to go out. “No, this is just doing something good.”
Dragonborn picked up another box of canned veggies and plopped it down on a table. As he dragged a thumb claw through the tape to open it, he said, “This is a load of sh...”
“Tell me more about yourself.” Santa interrupted Dragonborn.
“You saw my file.”
Santa looked over his wire-rimmed glasses, “I want to hear you talk about your life. BADGE has a dry way of putting things. Did you have a fun childhood? Do you have ambition for some form of work? That sort of stuff.”
“Fine.” Dragonborn lazily set out cans of green beans on a shelf. “I was born in the Hamptons, went to private schools, and had all the fun I wanted. My father is Dr. Matthew Messenger, a top surgeon, my mother is the daughter of a senator. We have loads of money, we love money, and I have whatever I want. Dad set up a fat trust fund for me that became all mine when I turned twenty. My ambition is to take my trust fund, buy a party mansion in Fiji, and surround myself with sexy girls. I’ll have a private jet so I can be seen at all the best places by all the best people.”
“I’m sorry.” Santa said as he finished another box.
Dragonborn paused as he went for another box. “Sorry? About what?”
“You must have an empty life to want to fill it with such worthless things.”
With a cocky snort, Dragonborn said, “Weren’t you listening? Nothing I want is worthless. I’m worth millions.”
“Life isn’t about how much money you spend. Only when you figure that out can you truly be happy.”
Dragonborn slit another box open. “I don’t care what the poor people say. Money can buy happiness and I’ll prove that.”
“Can you?” Santa said. “What happiness can money buy that can’t be taken away?” Santa asked.
“No one is going to take my stuff. Even if they do, I’ll buy more.”
Santa looked up with a glint of a smile. A knock tapped on the door. “Yes?”
A man looked in, “Barb... oh, hello. I was looking for Barbara and Steve.”
“They’re outside working on Christmas decorations. Can we help you?”
The man looked around the room. “I have a family out here who need food boxes. Are there any ready?”
“Sure are. How many do they need?”
“Two per family is the limit right now. Go ahead and bring out four. We’ll need them soon enough.”
Santa patted Dragonborn on the shoulder. “My friend will bring them out right away.”
“Thanks.” The man left.
Dragonborn scoffed, “Why can’t they come and get them?”
“Rules are rules. Now, take four boxes out and give them to those nice families waiting for their dinner.”
Dragonborn, still disguised as a normal citizen, slumped over to the table with the filled boxes. “Glad I’m not eating this tripe. This stuff’s garbage.”
“It might not be champagne and caviar, but it is what is needed. Now, hurry. They’re waiting.”
Dragonborn picked up the four boxes, two on each shoulder, carrying them out with ease. Each weighed twenty-five pounds, a mere feather to his morphon enhanced strength.
Outside, he found a table under a tent where two people checked off names and addresses on a long sheet of paper. Two families waited in the chilly December air.
“Wow! You’re strong!” A little girl called out.
The man who had come in, and was now looking over the list, looked up and his eyes bugged. “Good heavens, that is strong. Set them down there, please.”
Dragonborn set the boxes on the table. “Is that all?”
The man was about to answer when that same little girl rushed over. “Strongman, are those for us?”
He looked down and gave a brief nod. “Sure. Lots of food.”
She grabbed his leg in a hug. “THANK YOU!”
“Uh...” He was not accustomed to being around small children.
“Sam, Sam!” Her mother rushed over to peel the child off. “I’m sorry. Samantha has had little to eat today and we’ve been traveling a long way. Sam... let go of the nice man.”
The little girl backed up and looked at Dragonborn with glittering eyes. “Daddy said they had lotsa nice people here.”
“Yah, real nice people. I have to go.” Dragonborn turned around to head back inside the building. As he did, he heard the conversation that family was having with the people at the table.
“Sorry, we have your address listed in the red zone.”
“The what?”
The woman flipped the pages. “Your house was …”
The mother moved the happy little girl away and knelt down to get her attention so the child didn’t hear this conversation.
The man had an understanding look in his eyes as he glanced at the girl and her mother. Speaking in a whispering tone, he continued, “Your house was destroyed. You’ll have to wait inside while we find you a tent to stay in.”
“We can’t stay outside. It’s cold.” The father protested.
The man said, “These tents are nice and warm, donated by The Elk Sporting Goods. Plus, we have a bonfire each night. Just stay inside the collection office here for a bit. We’ll have something for you tonight, I promise.”
Dragonborn walked in, unable to wrap his mind around the idea of sleeping in a tent in this weather among this rubble of a town. He hardly noticed when he made it back into the food pantry room.
Santa was filling another box when he saw him. “Something wrong?”
“I...I just had a strange feeling.”
Santa chortled while folding up the box, “Experience is the greatest educator in this world, but it can also be the heaviest burden.”
Dragonborn looked over at Santa with a curious feeling in him. Could this man have known this would happen? Did he foresee that child and her family showing up at that moment? Why did he feel like this right now? He pushed all that down as hard as he could and focused on doing his work and getting this little experience over with.
Santa finished filling many boxes while Dragonborn worked through unloading the shipment. There was a lot more food to unload, but Santa felt they had done enough for the day. The small storefront they were currently working in had a few old tables sitting around. Some families who had recently arrived were sitting at the tables, waiting for news.
“What do we do now?” Dragonborn asked.
Santa said, “I would like to see how they are coming with their little impromptu Christmas celebration, but first...” He walked over to the small child, who was the only person in the room that had any joy on her face as she danced around aimlessly.
“Hello, my dear. What is your name?”
“Sam. Who are you?”
“Oh, just a kind old man who has two hands and likes to use them to help. Why are you in here, sitting around?” He directed this at the parents.
The father said, “Our house… is not… in shape for us now.” He censored himself in front of the girl.
His wife said, “The government gave us a room at a hotel in Knoxville, but it was only for a short time. We were told to leave and come home... but...we don’t...”
Santa said, “I understand.” He smiled, his cheeks a cheery red. “Why don’t you come outside? They are setting up a nice Christmas celebration. I know it isn’t much, but a little cheer is helpful in times of darkness.”
“Christmas!” The little girl ran around harder.
The parents, far less enthusiastic as their child, stood and joined Santa and Dragonborn on their way out the back of the building.
Dragonborn held Santa back to give them some distance from the family. “This isn’t fair. They don’t have a home and that little girl will not have Christmas presents. Why do this to her?”
“Be careful, Micheal, you almost sounded like you cared.”
“I’m not a monster.”
Santa smiled, “No, you are not. But you also don’t realize that Christmas isn’t about the presents.”
“Yeah, I watched the Grinch as a kind.”
“But, did you learn anything from it?” Santa asked, but didn’t wait for an answer as he left with the family.
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