Santa’s 25 Days of Christmas, Day 6

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Santa particularly liked his Caribbean Suit, mostly because it wasn’t red. Not that he didn’t like red, he did, but everyday, everywhere, it was a little much. Sure, he had a few white suits, but the green one, now that’s a suit.

In fact, he liked the green one so much, that he decided to do a quick turn around when he got back to the North Pole from Canada and head out straightaway, because he wanted to spend all day and most of the night in Saint Martin, showing it off.

Of all the islands, if he could only visit one, and tonight he was only going to visit one, he’d pick Saint Martin, because it was half French and half Dutch. Going there was like getting two cultures for the price of one. Though really the cultures were about the same, because everybody spoke English.

Though the restaurants were vastly different. No Corona on the French side, but he knew a place or two on the Dutch side and that’s where he was headed when the storm hit. It was like it came out of nowhere, but, of course, it didn’t. He should’ve checked the weather.

It was almost too much for the reindeer, so he made an emergency landing in Nevis, a small island on the edge of the storm. Still it was pretty windy, but St. Martin was not in the cards now.

Unless the Big Guy helped out.

Santa shivered. He’d never asked God for anything for himself. And certainly nothing as trivial as making a Storm go away, so he could walk on a tropical beach and show off his green Santa suit.

But what the heck, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

He looked around, found a conch shell to use as a phone and put it to his ear, because normal thought talking often gets interrupted before, during and after bad weather. 

God came on right away and He laughed like a ticklish child when Santa told Him what he wanted and He agreed to end the storm. But Santa was going to owe Him one.

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Santa rested and rested the reindeer till well after the storm had passed away. Then it was on to Saint Martin, but as he got close, he saw a KLM 747 that wasn’t going to make the runway. He, like many others, thought having the runway there so close to the beach going public was a bad idea.

And it was about to become a deadly idea.

But not a problem, he’d use his power of lift to keep the plane afloat till it landed safely at Princess Juliana airport.

But the plane kept sinking.

The Devil’s work. It had to be.

“Come on Reindeer, all together, think that plane onto that runway.” And they did. The Devil was a powerful person, but he was no match for Santa, especially when he had reindeer help.

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It took a lot out of him, saving a 747 full of souls, so he went to his favorite beach bar to get an early Corona, but the place was deserted. He stopped and asked a young lad who was headed to the beach what was up with the bar and the kid told him it was under new management and they were going to turn it into some kind of resort for rich people.

“Darn,” Santa said. “Nothing good lasts.”

Then he pulled the conch shell from his sack of toys and called up God.

“What now?” The big guy had a smile in his voice. “Not enough sun for you?”

“The Devil’s off the reservation,” Santa said and then he told him about the airplane.

“Thanks for letting me know.” God’s happy voice was gone now. “I’ll put him in his place.”

“Mike’s Seaside Shack is closed,” Santa said.

“That’s a shame.”

“Seems like nothing good lasts.”

“We’re good and we’ve been lasting,” God said.

“True enough,” Santa said, then he said goodbye.

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Not getting any joy at Mike’s Seaside Shack, Santa decided to stroll along the beach at Philipsburg and show off his suit. But he didn’t get much joy there either, because just a couple minutes into his walk and his conch shell rang.

“Santa here.”

“Lucifer here.”

“Ah, the Devil himself.” Santa chuckled. It was an old joke, one he used every time the Devil called. It always made him laugh, but the Devil didn’t seem to think it was so funny.

“You’re not supposed to interfere with me.”

“And you’re not supposed to take out a plane load of tourists, not to mention all the souls on the beach, without the Big Guy’s permission.”

“How do you know I didn’t have it?”

“I just do.”

“I’ll get the next one before the He can stop me.”

“We’ll see about that!” But the Devil didn’t hear, because he’d already hung up.

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Ah, so much for an afternoon beer, Santa thought. There was another KLM flight due in about an hour and obviously the Devil was going to try and hide away his thoughts, so God couldn’t find him till after he brought the plane down. He could do that, hide from the Big Guy, but not for too long.

So, it looked like this was a job for Santa. He laughed to himself. Sometimes the Devil let his ego get away and that wasn’t too smart. If he’d’ve kept his mouth shut, Santa would’ve had his beer and maybe even taken a nap at the beach. He did, after all, bring his bathing suit along.

But instead, he went to the beach in full green Santa Suit, but not before buying a walking stick at a tourist shop. He’d need it to stay on his feet as it would take every bit of his energy to keep that plane up, because his reindeer were flying and wouldn’t be back for hours.

He supposed he could’ve called God for help, but he was sure he could handle the job by himself. Besides, it didn’t seem fair to call on God every tine he had a little problem.

An hour later he was at the beach with a flock of tourists when the plane came in. And sure enough, the Devil was doing his level best to bring it down, but Santa was doing his Santa best to keep it up and much to the Devil’s chagrin, Santa prevailed. And once again, he’d saved a plane load of tourists.

He was having a good day and now he was going to get that beer he so craved.

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Santa made his way to the Cruiser’s Beach Bar, a place where people who lived on sailboats tended to hang out. He got there before the rush, ordered his Corona and took a long sip just before his conch shell rang again.

“Hello, Dear.” He knew it was Mrs. Claus.

“Are you coming home soon?”

“I was going to stay longer, but I’ve had a rough day, so I’ll leave as soon as it gets dark.”

“Could you bring me some of that Cruzan rum I like so much?”

“I’d be glad too.” And truth be told, he was going to anyway. They liked to sit by the fire with a glass of hot rum on occasion and just relax the evening away, and now he was looking forward to getting home.

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The day finished, Santa went to the appointed meeting place with a sack full of rum and before he could sit in one of the chairs there, Rudy and Crew showed up right on time. Since putting the red nosed reindeer in charge, they’d never been late. It had really upset Dancer, but heck, when Dancer was in charge the reindeer were more often late than they were on time. And Santa like to keep to a schedule.

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Santa had the reindeer circle the island, before heading them to the North Pole, because he wanted to see the lights in Marigot Bay on the French side. Then he settled back, closed his eyes and let Rudy lead them home.

Ken Douglas Wedding and Portrait Photography, 1250 Ralston Street, Reno, NV 89503 
Phone: 775 393-9529