Rebecca's Wish

         Rebecca’s Wish


  If there was one thing Rebecca liked to do after school was spend time in her Uncle Bill’s office. There was magic there he had told her once- the same magic that helped him write stories. The room was cluttered with small pictures, figures and models. In one corner stood a globe, only it was a world that didn’t quite look like her world. There were aliens and monsters (the icky stuff, Rebecca had told her mother one day) on a small table tucked in another corner. There was a spaceship Rebecca’s brother Jay had built from egg cartons and paper mache. There were figures of animals, both real and imaginary, sitting on shelves in front of books, tucked in corners. Rebecca’s mother thought the room a total mess. For Rebecca, It was the ultimate playroom where she could imagine anything at all.
  In the center of the room stood Uncle Bill’s desk- a large heavy looking desk that smelled of old wood and had more coffee cup ring stains than it had drawers. Rebecca knew it was here that Uncle Bill wrote his stories. He always hand wrote them- there was a large supply of notebooks and pens scattered about the desktop. And on the desk, right in front of where Uncle Bill sat, there stood tree small figures- One, a tall slender blonde woman, looking very business like and her hair coming to just below her neck, One a thin boy, about half the height of the woman figure- he had short brown hair and a wide, wide grin stretched across his face. His face looked dirty and there was a frog sticking out of his back pocket. The third figure was of a little girl. Her face was rosy and nearly pink, her eye were blue and her wispy hair was blonde, just like the woman’s figure. To Rebecca they were the exact image of her mother, her brother, and Rebecca herself.
  This is what he looked at when he wrote the special stories- the one’s made just for her and no one else.  She notices the little girl figure no longer held a small blue blanket- just like the one she herself had carried. (authors note- another story- the first one actually). Rebecca, who freely told her brother that she was the only one allowed in Uncle Bill’s office. She got to play and color and write while Uncle Bill watched and occasionally  she would try her hand at writing as well.  As she wote, she sat in a small desk that was set next to his- It was smaller, to be sure, but it matched Uncle Bill’s exactly- right down to the Kool-aid and Milk stains that collected like the coffee rings on his.


  It was Christmas time. Another of Rebecca’s favorite times of the year- right next to her birthday (cake and presents!), the end of school (beaches!), her brother Jay’s birthday (cake!), Easter, (chocolate!), her mother’s birthday (cake!), Uncle Bill’s birthday (chicken wings and cake!), and a host of other days that made the list.
  Christmas was Rebecca’s favorite of them all. The smells of candy and pine and snow and hearing people laugh… Rebecca loved it all- to here it was all the other good days wrapped into one package (except the beach, she told her mother once- way to cold there right now mommy!) There were lights and sounds and music that she would hear no other time of the year.
  Her house was decorated to the hilt- The large tree covered in garland and blinking lights that grabbed her attention every time she walked by. The train- so much like the one that actually runs from the station downtown, chugs slow loops around the tree and the festive small town beneath it. The Nativity scene nestled where all could see (and none dared to block the view- if Rebecca had anything to say about it). The new addition this year was a small blue blanket that wrapped the baby Jesus. (authors note- another arrow to the same story mentioned before). Her heart pounded at every day Christmas day became closer. Which was why she had puzzled Uncle Bill terribly today…

  “Uncle Bill?” she asked, “ Why don’t you Have a Christmas tree?
  Bill kneeled to her and smiled. She had asked this question before- every year since she was two- though that year the question sounded more like “Kithmoo Twee?”
  “I don’t have one,” was his simple reply.
  “Why not?”
  Bill steadied himself for the answer. Rebecca was more and more full of questions as she grew. Now she was at an age when she would find out that not everything is all that good. And unlike the stories he would tell her as she sat on his lap on some evenings when her mother worked late- some stories had no happy ending at all.
  But he was ready, “Lost something a long time ago, elf.”
  “Whatcha loose?”
  Bill swallowed hard, hoping Rebecca would go for this. He was not very good at lying, even given his passion for writing, He liked it even less that he had to stretch truths for this little one.
  “A long time ago, “ he started,” I had a sort of magic.”
  Rebecca looked lively at hime- her eyes wide. She LOVED magic.”
  “I was so full of this magic that I gave it to any and all I trusted.”
  Rebecca looked onward still- unusually quiet instead of her energetic ways.
  “One day, I gave all the magic I had to a little girl, who was every bit as sweet and pretty as you are now”
  Rebecca giggled, she knew how much Uncle Bill adored her- and she played to her every 5 year old advantage that she could get away with.
  “But one day she was gone. It was right around Christmas and she was gone. I gave her so much of that magic, that I never got it back. I haven’t really celebrated Christmas since.”
  Bill blinked hard- he never liked talking about Kate. Brought with it too many memories and ‘what-ifs’.
  Rebecca’s jaw hung open. No magic? she thought. She didn’t understand, and wanted desperately to ask more, but could see that Bill wouldn’t offer more.
  “No garland?”
  “Nope.”
  “Lights?”
  Bill shook his head ,”uh-uh.”
  Her face brightened, “AHA! You buy presents!”
  “Yeah, I do. That’s because I care about Jay, your mom, and you - ya little elf. Just because I don’t really celebrate Christmas doesn’t mean I can’t bring a little happy face to you and the ones I care about, huh?”
  Rebecca waited a moment, then slowly shook her head.
  “Besides, if I didn’t, I know a little girl who would be upset if I didn’t. I’m not in the habit of upsetting little girls, or anyone for that matter.”

  The rest of the afternoon was spent walking and snowball throwing. Rebecca relished the time she spent with Bill, but today, the explanation he had given her bothered her. It kept bothering her and kept bothering her untill that evening- just after dinner, she decided to ask the only other person she knew who could explain it to her.
  “Mom? Uncle Bill says he’s got no magic left for Christmas. How come?”
  Charlene, who had gotten the low-down on the whole day from Bill once she had returned home, knew Rebecca would ask sooner or later. As much as she loved Bill like a brother, she thought his explanation deserved a little more- as in a little more truth.
  Charlene led Rebecca to the living room. There, on a small table next to the couch sat a large photo album. Charlene sat on the couch, then lifted her daughter to her lap. Reaching to the album, she began telling her a story.
  “Bill wasn’t always a writer and he wasn’t always a nurse either. Long ago, way before you were born- actually before Jay was born too. Bill was a radio disc jockey working through nursing school. I had already known him for years by that time. He was a struggling radio guy with a good following and a knack for telling stories..”
  She flipped a few pages of the album open, then pointed to a small photo of  a man in a gray t-shirt.
  “You recognize anybody there?”
  Rebecca looked closer at the photo, “That’s UNCLE BILL!” she said, “Wow! He had hair?”
  Charlene laughed, “Yes, he had hair at one time. This was taken at a benefit for a children’s charity. It was right around Christmas and it raised money  for all sorts of kids who were hospitalized for one reason or another over the holidays. Bill loved Christmas back then.”
  “Really?” Rebecca had a tough time believing that. Not the guy who doesn’t even have a snow globe to decorate.
  Charlene nodded and pointed back at the photo, ”Mm-hmm. You see the young lady in the picture next to him? Her name was Jo and Bill and her were living together at the time.”
  She turned the page and pointed to another photo.
  “Years went by and eventually Jo and Bill were married. It was a great day for him. I was there, as was Jay and your father.”
  Rebecca knew it must have been special for her mother to mention her father,”…and I only saw him happier twice. The first was…”
  “Ohhh! I know!” Rebecca belted out,” Michelle! I met her! She’s real pretty and she even looks like Uncle Bill!”
  Michelle was Uncle Bill’s oldest daughter. Born some time ago, when both Bill and Michelle’s mother were young, but that is a story for another time.
  “Yes,” Charlene said, “and the second was…” she turned the pages of the photo album again. Rebecca saw Bill in a number of poses- wearing dark suits, wearing a long robe with a funny square hat on his head, wearing the nurses uniform she freely  recognized as the work scrubs he wore now. Charlene’s finger stopped on a large picture of Bill holding a small baby to his cheek. The baby was sleeping and Bill had his ear to the infant’s chest. His eyes were closed, but Rebecca could see a single tear welling  and flowing down his face.
  “That’s Katelyn, “ Charlene continued, “She was born about the same time as Jay. In fact, they used to play together when they were very little.”
  Rebecca saw Bill holding the small infant in the photo. He had no beard. His chin is naked, she thought. She saw he had a smile on his face despite the tear that stood on his cheek.
  Charlene turned the album page again. On one entire page was a photocopy of a letter, “That’s Bill’s letter of acceptance from Latrobe publishing, “ she continued, “He started writing and saving his best stories from the radio and made them into a book. By that time, he had started working at the hospital too. He quit the radio station all together when he got that letter. He devoted himself to two things. Helping others and his family.”
  Another page, another paper, ”That was a check he got for writing a book about me.”
  “You have a book mommy?”
  Charlene smiled, “Yes. Bill wrote it about how your father and I broke up. He wrote it in such a way that it made me laugh. Made a lot of people laugh.”
  “You wouldn’t have believed it, but Christmas really was his favorite time of year.”
  “wow,” Rebecca whispered, “so what happened?”
  Charlene swallowed hard as she closed the photo album, “Bills wife left him,” she continued, ”It was right before Christmas. She left him and took Katelyn with her. No excuses or explanations, just left. Bill was so sad,  he never really recovered from losing them, especially Kate.
  “when you were born, some of that life came back to him, “ Charlene told her, “That was the magic he told you about. .When Katelyn was gone, he just seemed less of himself. You brought some of that back when you were born. He was the only one who could quiet you down sometimes.”
  Rebecca tried to remember when she last saw Bill smile. She could swear she could, but it was nothing like the pictures she saw in the album.
  “That’s not fair…”she said.
  “No it’s not,” Charlene answered as she lowered Rebecca to the floor once again. She kissed her forehead gently, “Not fair at all.”

  And that was the thought that stuck with Rebecca for the remainder of the day-It’s not fair. Uncle Bill didn’t lose his magic, it was taken away.
  She wanted to help, but she knew she couldn’t do it on her own. She needed help.
  And after thinking very hard on the matter, she knew exactly who to ask…
End part one…
 
      Part 2

  Rudy Lewis had for the last 25 years been playing Santa. Every year more and more, he looked the part. His belly had gotten larger and larger as the Christmas seasons came and went. When at first, he needed padding (an extra 2 pillows) to fill the suit, he now needed to let the suit out- just enough so every time he sat, the back of his trousers didn’t reveal Santa’s ample behind.
  The YMCA, where Rudy spent his mornings greeting children and adults alike, Stood in the center of town. The holiday season was a busy one for Rudy, as he had many requests to play Santa from the Mall in LaVale to nursing homes and shelters. It was the Y that he liked the best- saw more people and brought more cheer.
  “excuse me,” a small voice came. A tugging on his outer coat.
  “excuse me, please”
  Rudy looked down to see a small girl wrapped close in a winter coat and gray mittens.
  “Well hello little one,” Rudy said to the little girl, “And how is it that you are here alone on this winter day?”
  “My name is Rebecca,” the girl answered, “and I need to make a deal with you”


  Rebecca had argued with her brother Jay about the existence of Santa nearly the whole day previously. School had been cancelled- snow and ice. Both Jay and her had the entire day to their selves, as long as they didn’t get into any trouble- it was clear sailing until Christmas.
  “OK then,” Jay jutted his chin out in a pure your just a silly kid pose, “Convince me then. Betchu can’t.”
  “Well,” Rebecca said, “He only comes at night when I know mom is sleeping. It can’t be Uncle Bill because he always works on Christmas. Grandma can’t lift anything. And neeeeetherrrr can you! “
  “HEY!” Jay bared teeth in a mock show of mean-ness, “Careful whatchu say keed. Mom’s not here and I will bust ya!”
  Rebecca stuck her tongue out.
  “How about money- we get money too you know. He bring that too ya widdle widdle girl?”
  “Nah, “Rebecca said, “Even I know that it’s against the rules to make your own money.  DUUUHH! That’s why he rings that bell so much in front of the YMCA and those other places.”
  “But why are there so many of them, huh? Answer me that ya smarty pants!”
  Without missing a beat, “You think you can make enough money for every body by yourself?”
  Jay gave up. He hasn’t won an argument between him and his little sister since she learned to talk.
  Today wasn’t looking like this was going to be the day.


  So she had ventured out, with her brother and her mother in tow to see the only person she knew could help her.

  “Mom?”
  “Yes ‘becca, “ Charlene called back.
  “I wanna see Santa tomorrow.”
  “I thought you already sent your letter to Santa.”
  “I did. But I still haven’t seen him yet.”
  Charlene could not deny 5 year old logic such as that. They planned to see him the very next day.

  Rebecca handed Rudy/Santa the note she had written. She showed it to no one else. Rudy reached for his glasses and read the note. It was written in large child like writing:




DEAR SANTA
  I LOVE MY UNCLE BILL.
  MY MOM SAS HE
  MISSUS HIS DAUTER SO
  HE DONT CELBRAT
  CHRISTMAS NO MORE.
  ILL MAKE YOU A DEAL.
  YOU CAN GIVE MY PREZENTS
  TO SUMONE ELS IF YOU
  CAN GET UNCLE BILLS
  MAGIC BACK.
  KIZZ RUDOFF FOR ME
  HES MY FAVRIT






  At reading the note, Rudy looked at Rebecca, “You sure little one?
  “Yeah- all of them,” she said, “ I love my Uncle Bill.”
  Rudy/Santa smiled and almost had to brush a single tear away, “Well little one. I will have to do my best then, won’t I?”
  Rebecca wrapped her arms (as much as she could anyway) around Rudy and hugged with all her heart. A small kiss on his cheek and she bounded back to Charlene, who stood waiting for her at the bottom of the YMCA’s stairs.
  Rudy watched as she skipped away and joined her mother and walked toward town. He smiled brightly and said to himself, “What a remarkable little girl.”
  And that is where things would have stopped. Rudy, for all his kindness and gentleness, had gotten more and more forgetful as the years went by. The note would have remained in his pocket. Bill would have remained ever bitter toward Christmas and the holidays. And Rebecca might have not believed in Christmas magic anymore had their not been a person listening to the whole thing.
  He wore and long dark coat and a matching dark wide brimmed fedora hat. His hair was shockingly white- beard, sides, moustache and head. The cheeks of the robust man were pink- maybe an effect of the cold December weather and the ever threat of snow the forecasters keep promising. His body appeared large- but not fat. He had excellent hearing, this man did, and he had heard every bit of the conversation between Rudy and Rebecca. He smiled as he rose from the bench he had warmed for the last hour while he spread birdseed to the winter robins and cardinals. He reached into his pocket an took out a large silver dollar. It reflected the dim sunlight and sparkled. He approached Rudy and his loud clanging bell and caught his attention as he dropped the large silver dollar into the collection bucket.
  “You do a fine job at this you know,” the man said to Rudy, “The best I’ve seen in years.
  “And I’ve seen many, many come and go.” the man finished.
  He took Rudy’s right hand in his and shook it proudly.
  “Thank you sir,” Rudy said,” I do my best for the people and what I am.”
  The man released Rudy’s hand and turned back to the park bench. Pigeons and a lone duck had joined the other birds in searching for stray seed, “Keep up the good work Rudy.”
  Rudy thought that was odd. He couldn’t remember if he had mentioned his name to the man.


  But then, Rudy had a thought. It was small at first, but the though grew. He tried to ignore the thought, but it nagged him like a bad itch.
  I was supposed to do something, he thought.
  Larger and larger the thought grew until his face lit up and he exclaimed, “THAT’S IT!” out loud, nearly scaring the young woman who was passing by into dropping her large load of gifts.
  Rudy retrieved his bucket and went inside the YMCA’s door and headed to the reception desk. Behind the desk sat Dona Larayne- the YMCA’s mainstay secretary for nearly 40 years.
  “Getting tired of ringin that bell Rudy?” she asked.
  Rudy looked sternly at Dona, “CONFOUND it woman- don’t call me Rudy with all these kids around!”
  “Sorry, Rudy,” she smiled, “I forgot.”
  “Never mind that now, woman,” Rudy said, “Is that guy from the Times/News still here?”

  Terry Feck was the photographer assigned to cover the children’s play at the YMCA. He had been  working as a freelance shutter bug for years- covering the small town look around the area. Meeting Rudy was like meeting a small town celebrity . Terry had known Rudy for years, and even had a picture of him holding his own daughter when she was just an infant.
  Rudy told Terry about the little girl. He could not for the life of himself remember the name of the little girl, but for the pretty blue eyes that challenged the sky for the color. He told Terry of the note and pulled it from his pocket. Terry read the note and sighed deep. Touching it felt electric. Reading it felt like he had read the ultimate wish. It brought a tear to his eye.

  Then Terry had an idea. The idea grew quickly.
  “Dona, can you make a few copies of this for me?”
  Dona, who had read the letter just before Terry, made one hundred copies.


  Outside, the man spread out the last of his birdseed. The large congregation of birds picked and pecked at the bounty and hunted for more. The man was smiling. Things were going well inside.
  Every year, the man sought the one true wish- a wish so unspoiled, so innocent, that he made it come true. This year, above all else, he heard the wish Rebecca had for her Uncle Bill.
    Yes indeed, things are going very well. Too bad I can’t stay here. I like this area- so good.
  With that thought, he rose from the bench. The belt that had held his long dark coat closed had loosened, causing the red and white coat and large black belt to show through. A small boy- not just 5 years old saw him.
  “MOM!” he said, “It’s…”
  The man raised a single finger to his lips and mimed a ‘shhh…’. The man winked and placed that same finger against the side of his nose.
  In a puff of crystal snow, he vanished.
  “What was that Blake?” the boy’s mother asked.
  “Uhh… never mind.”

  Bill during this time, had been working. It was December 20th. He immersed himself into nursing work. He worked long hours- twelve to sixteen every day. He came home tired every night, but he came home knowing he had made a difference. He rarely read the newspaper during this time and watched television even less. He lunched with his daughter Michelle often.
  But he was oblivious to the events that played during the days leading to Christmas.

Excerpt from the Potomac City Times/News : Santa Looking For Uncle. A letter delivered to local celebrity Rudy Lewis has garnered attention to the local population of Potomac City. The letter, who Rudy says was delivered by a small girl…
  A copy of the hand written letter accompanied  the story.

Later that day…

Local television news: “This is Jill Bain reporting from Potomac City, Maryland where a small anonymous girl seems to have ignited a mystery. It seems the little girl, who remains unidentified, left a hand written note in the care of the local Santa…”

Two days later …

“Hello, I’m Will Simmons for C-news. With me is Santa. Santa, I believe you have a story for us…”

  Of course, Santa was Rudy. In the short time he had first shown the letter to Terry, news of the little blue-eyed girl wishing the best for her Uncle Bill had spread nearly nationwide and beyond. He read the letter to all who would listen.
  In Acadia, Maine, Raymond King- a notorious penny pinching miser, took one read of the letter and decided to give as many families as he could the Christmas they deserved but could not afford.

  In Toronto, Canada, Lyle Kaumauff heard of the letter and saw the interview of Rudy on many of the news channels. He immediately bought a Santa suit for each of his employees and told them that if each of them wore the suit of the 23rd, they could have an entire week off with pay. No one worked that entire week.

  Rickita15 had posted a copy of the letter on her website. By the end of the 23rd, People from England, Norway, Russia, and points from all over the world wondered who Uncle Bill was and who the Blue-eyed girl had been.

  Rudy himself was interviewed several times by many different people from many different countries. He never appeared with out his Santa suit and never asked to be called anything but Santa. In the years that passed, Rudy continued to play Santa. He continued to ring his bell and bring as much cheer and joy to the population of Potomac City. He kept the original letter framed- hanging it in his living room with the other mementos of his life. He had shook the President of the United States hand after that first Christmas he had received the letter. Rudy lived to be 105. People said of him years after he had passed that he had a gift for bringing happiness to all he came into contact with. People also said he had the sharpest of minds, for a man of such advanced age.


  Bill had kept working. He worked long shifts at the hospital and had kept writing for at least two hours a night when he returned. Usually, he kept up with current events, but this week, he had so immersed himself into the work he had come to love, he kept oblivious to all that was going on around the world around him.
  On the evening of the 24th,  despite the flashing of the phone’s answering machine, despite the pile of mail he had unloaded from his mailbox, and despite the  nagging feeling he had to do something, he fell immediately to bed and slept soundly and dreamlessly until Christmas morning.


End part 2

  Part 3

  The alarm woke Bill, as usual, at five in the morning. He lived close enough to the hospital, that he had time to take a long shower and stop for coffee on the way to his usual six AM shift. He hit the alarm button hard, but was surprised the alarm continued to ring. It was a moment or two before he realized that it wasn’t the alarm that had woke him- he had forgotten to set it the previous night. The phone was ringing. The phone had woke him.
  Funny, why hasn’t the machine kicked in?
  He walked to the phone with one eye closed, one eye open- truly half asleep., “helluh?” he said into the receiver.
  “Bill? This is Dawn.”
  “Yeah Dawn, you need me to come in as early as possible?”
  “Uhh.. No, Bill. In fact we’re calling you off today.”
  That woke Bill up, “How come?”
  “The census here dropped,” the voice in the phone continued, “You wouldn’t believe it. Every doctor came in just after you left last night and nearly every patient was discharged at that very moment. The doctors called the families themselves and by  eleven, we only had four patients…”
  “And they were the angioplasty patients too- they’ll be going home today.”
    “Yep,” the voice continued, “All the labs came out good. Zero population here by noon. As long as there are no admissions. We get a no brain day”
    Bill thought for a second, taking all this in.
  “And,” the voice continued, “you have almost 50 hours overtime this week alone!. Even if the census goes up- you, ya grinch, are the last to be called in.”
  “But…,” Bill started then stopped. It was useless arguing. He had dived so into the work week, he had set up being called off on the one day he really wanted not to be home, “Alright, Dawn. Let me know if anything changes.”
  “Will do, but I wouldn’t get you hopes up Ebenezer. And as long as you’re home, you should try to solve that mystery goin’ around.”
  Bill rubbed his eyes to get the last of the sleep san out, “What mystery?”
  “Haven’t you been reading the papers? Watching TV?” she yelled into the phone. Bill had to pull the receiver to arms length to keep from going deaf in his right ear, “Jeez, for someone who says he’s up on things…Check the news sunny Jim. That’ll give you something to do..”
  Bill was left feeling clueless after he had hung the phone back to the cradle.
  Mystery?
  Contemplating the day ahead, he turned to the shower and took a long hot scrub.
  The phone rang three times while he was washing. He did not hear the ringing.

  After showering, after coffee, Bill ambled to his computer and switched it on. He sipped his coffee as the electronic voice announced. “You have 147 messages.”

  Dang!, Bill thought to himself,  I have been busy.

  He clicked through his messages- deleting one after the other- spam, not interested, not really looking for an online match. Once done, he was left with a tidy set of  a couple dozen messages.  Another sip from the coffee mug, and he started to read:

Bill, You need to get back with me about those interviews in New York. The publisher’s breathing down my neck, man. What you do, change cell numbers again?…

  Bill chuckled- Ken, his literary manager, delighted in calling him at all hours regardless of what time it was. He knew not to call while he was at the hospital, but that didn’t stop Ken from calling before and after Bill’s shift. Bill decided to answer him later- the book was not due to come out for another month, and Bill felt there would be plenty of time.
  Many of the other messages were of the same- Friends and relations checking up on him.
  With two messages left, Bill noticed the answering machine. The number on display was 27. He clicked a message then started the machine.
  The message read: Bill you need to call me as soon as you get this message- Charlene.

  Short and to the point, Bill thought,  I wish everybody wrote like that.

--BEEP--”Uncle Bill!, “ it was Rebecca, “ I did it! I got you magic back! You’ll see! Luvyabye!!”

  Huh?

--BEEP--”Bill I’m awful sorry about all this. I don’t know what’s gotten into her…

  Charlene again…

--BEEP-- a slow dead hiss was heard- noone there
--BEEP--<click>
--BEEP--”uuhh, hello…?”

  Didn’t recognize that one. Young voice

--BEEP--”You got some kinda party goin on, Bill”, It was Ken the manager,” I helped that guy load all the stuff onto the back porch…

  whathe?

  “He was pretty spry for as big as he was, mind you I’m not a spring chicken any more-haha…”

  He clicked on the last message and there in all it’s glory was Rebecca’s letter. He noticed the five-year-old scrawl of Rebecca  immediately. He read the note over and over again while the phone messages played on.

--BEEP--<click>-BEEP-<click>
--BEEP--”umm hello?”

  The same voice- young almost a teenager I think…

--BEEP--  Bill noted the loud tone of that one- wanting to be noticed.

  “Hello Bill…”
  Bill froze in mid sip. Jo?

  Bill’s mind slipped into a memory he hadn’t thought of in quite some time. They were poor- living in a small 2 room apartment while they went to college. The baby had complicated things, but they were happy. It was one day in particular he had felt the best he had ever- Kate was only a few months old, but  she was amazingly attentive that day. Bill held her in his lap- making the goo-goos and squeaks that  made her smile. She sat in his lap, warm and full of such life, Bill had hardly thought of anything else.
  It was Christmas. He had no money for presents, but he had scrounged enough for a tree. A modest one with a wide base enough to hide anything that fit under it.
  But that wasn’t the one Kate cared about. Every now and then, between tickles and ga-gas, she would make as to look at the small tree sitting on top of living room table. This was her tree and hers alone- decorated with small carton characters and Disney ornaments. It sparkled like summer streams. It was Kate’s own tree and when she stopped grinning at her father, she would turn to the tree- just to make sure it was still there. Then she would turn back to her father and grin wide as if he were the worlds biggest  teddy bear and he was all hers.
  And she would be right, he was…

  “I can’t believe you wrote all those books. Rebecca’s been reading them for years. And thanks  for the tickets. How did you know we were looking for you..”
  I did what?
  “ And that man that showed up- nice touch him looking like Santa…”
  What guy?
  “Kate just about had a fit when she found out who you were..”
  KATE!?
  “And you should have heard her when she heard we were going to fly out to see you…”
  HERE?
  “ We should be arriving at about  two on Christmas Day…
  TODAY?
  “Here someone wants to say something…”
  There was a sound of the phone being transferred
  “Hi dad!…,” Bill jumped at being called dad by her. Michelle, his oldest daughter had always called him dad, but somehow this had seemed different
  “We’ll be there soon! I LOVE you!”
HERE?
  --BEEP--The machine kept reading out messages. Bill paid no attention to them.
Shescomingshescominwhattheheckamigonnado……
  He fumbled to the phone and punched Charlene’s number.
  “hello?”
  “Ohmygawdshescomingand I..”

  “Calm down, we’re actually on out way over.”
  Bill paced as he waited- his mind a jumble. He looked at the pile of boxes tat had been set on his back porch. There sat crates and crates of  Christmas decorations of all kinds.
  I haven’t seen a tree like that since…since…

  When the knock came, Bill yelped. Charging for the door, he had forgotten the only thing he had on his feet were his socks.  He slid head first to the door.
 
  The front door stopped him.
  So did the floor.
  “What was that, “ Charlene asked from behind the door.
  “Hold on..” Bill rose from the floor and shook the stars from his head. Grabbing the knob for the door took three attempts, his hand not quite able to turn the knob correctly.
  On the third try, he realized it was still locked.
  Get you stuff together dude!!!

  Charlene walked into the house, patted Bill on the shoulder and asked, “Right. What needs done?”
  Bill told her everything, finishing with the phone messages.
  Peering from around her mother’s legs, Rebecca sheepishly looked to Bill and asked, “am I in trouble?”

  “No elf,” Bill said, “but we should talk later you and I.”
  Rebecca swallowed hard. Uncle Bill didn’t look mad, but jeez, grown-ups were so hard to guess about sometimes.

  Bill brought the tree in. It looked like the same exact one he had bought when  him and Jo had been married. He had called, at the urging of Charlene, Bill’s oldest, Michelle. Somehow, it surprised noone that she too was already on her way.

  Together, the three adults and the two children had made the first Christmas Bill had in almost 15 years.  The smells took over the house- evergreen, cinnamon, nutmeg. Here came a woodsy smell around the house. That reminded Bill of the forest. To him it was pleasant and it was then the smile happened across his face. Charlene had noticed it first. Bill had spontaneously started hanging tinsel around the doorway. Finishing, he had rescued the ladder from his garage and had hung lights across the front of the house and on every mimosa tree in the front yard. Rebecca helped (with the low parts, of course). Even she had noticed how Bill smiled.
  Once finished with the lights, Bill retreated in the Kitchen, where he started preparing dinner- a large baked ham honey glazed and covered in pineapple rings with a maraschino cherry decorating each center of the pineapple. There was Macaroni salad with tiny shrimp and cubes of (goat) cheese. Hot potato salad. There was 3 pies and several sheets of cookies. They were all quite happy. Bill had wanted a large kitchen when he had bought the house, and showed his expertise as he cooked it all. ( “I wasn’t always a nurse you know” he said to the others) And though it wasn’t Christmas carols he had sung, every one noticed he had a definite proud singing voice. Bill had glanced into the oven door and had noticed his reflection in the oven door.  For the first time he could remember in such a very long time, he liked the way he looked. He smiled. The reflection smiled back.
 

  The house was finished- in just a few hours time, there had been a marvelous change from drab single man house to a house that shown brightly in the neighborhood even though it was till just past midday.

  He insisted everyone stay for the meeting, “you all aren’t going to let me do this alone, are you?”

  Nobody would have missed this for the world.

  Just past 3pm, the doorbell rang. Bill looked at himself in the mirror next to the door. He no longer looked like he was smiling. He looked thinned and white- nearly transparent. His lips pursed and the thinning hair on his head (Rebecca was fond of saying his forehead was getting longer) looked way too thin. His hands felt moist. He reached to the door, then retreated. Reached again, and retreated again.
  Rebecca stomped to the door and held Bill’s hand, “It’s alright, Uncle Bill, “she said, “ we’re all here!”
  Bill smiled at this little girl who so rapidly took over his life today. He bent over and planted a kiss on her forehead. Brushing her hair with his hand, he said, “Thank you, elf.”
  He motioned for Michelle, his oldest daughter. She had last met Kate when She was just 3 years old and Kate was a baby. This, Bill thought, should be as much about her as it is about him.

  He opened the door.

  And when Bill, Michelle and Kate had seen each other for that first time since she was a baby, they hugged and held each other for a very long time. To Charlene, who dabbed her eyes with  a tissue, it was as if they had never been apart…

And for Christmas’ to come that was the way it was. Bill delighted in it and invited all his friends. Kate came regularly throughout the year, and the three of them- Michelle, Kate and Bill would spend as much time together as they could. From that moment on, they were inseparable…

                                                                            --------------
  “I got something for you elf.”
  “What is it Uncle Bill?”
  Bill reached into his desk and brought out a black book. The cover was thick and heavy. Wrapped around it was a simple red ribbon. He handed the book to Rebecca and smiled.
  “It’s about time you start making stories of your own, I think, “ Bill said.
  Rebecca removed the red ribbon from the book and looked at the cover
  It read: MY STORIES. And on the next line read: BY R MILLER.
  Rebecca smiled at the book. She had seen the one Bill’s grandfather had given to him when he was very little. That book and this looked very much alike.
  “Stories, “ Bill started, “ are like little worlds, elf. Only they have no boundaries- you make up the rules as you go along.
  “When you take a story that came from here,” he pointed at her head, “ and use this, “he took her hand, “ it has to pass through this,” he tapped her chest, meaning her heart.
  “Take every story to heart, little one. You’ve been at my side or on my lap right there for every story I’ve written for the past five years. I can’t think of how I wrote before you came along. “
  “And what you made happen is nothing short of a dang miracle. You got a lot of heart for such a short little girl. I hope the rest of you don’t grow up so fast.”

  He hugged her deeply then led her back to the living room where Michelle was  telling Kate of her school days. It was a good day. He felt the old magic again. He grinned and helped himself to more dinner ham.

  A good day, yes…

  The end