FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A Polar Bear's Christmas

Theodore Sidney Adams, Ted to his friends, when he had some, but never Teddy, rolled out of bed to greet a new day. According to the clock on the desk that was the principal piece of furniture in his efficiency apartment, the day had been new some eleven hours ago and it was now approaching lunchtime for most of the citizens of this fair city. Ted ignored it and staggered to the bathroom to throw up whatever was left of the junk food and cheap liquor that he had ingested the night before, as he did most mornings.

His bulky polar bear body barely fit inside the tiny bathroom. The foul smell of vomit and unflushed urine could not escape while he was wedged in the opening, and that just made him retch more. He remembered to flush this time and vowed to come back and clean the bits that had missed the bowl before they dried into a crust again. He backed out of the bathroom and flopped down on the end of the reinforced bed that was the only other piece of furniture in the one-room apartment. He gazed at the desktop, cluttered with boxes, cans, pots, a small microwave and a hot plate and wondered if he should dare eating.

His eyes travelled up the shelf unit that he had recovered from the trash outside an office supply store. It held his clothes and a few papers, summonses and subpoenas for various infractions related to disturbing the peace mainly, but one shelf was dedicated to the mementos of his former life: his badge, his service revolver, a medal on a burgundy and gold ribbon, a few other things. There was a photo of a much younger Ted Adams in a police cadet uniform with his arm around a pretty little black bear who was holding a swaddled baby. The memories came creeping reluctantly back as his head began to clear. He took down the medal and stared at it. A brass bar with the word "Bravery" etched on it was fixed across the ribbon.

Funny how life could turn on you, he thought. One day you're a hero for breaking up a liquor store robbery while off duty and the next you're off the force with an inadequate medical pension for hurting your back in the same take-down. Now he had an ex-wife that hated him, a son he only saw when he needed a few extra bucks and a grandson that he had never seen at all. The only happy memories he had left were of watching his son compete in Track and Field back before the troubles began; everything else had gone sour.

Ted put the medal back and his paw brushed the butt of the revolver, gripped it of its own accord and took the heavy gun down. He flipped the cylinder open and verified that all six chambers were full. He peered down the barrel to see if there was any dust in there. Then he snapped it shut and spun the cylinder, turning the muzzle toward him as he did. Would today be the day? He asked himself. Then he remembered that he had his appointment with his case worker at the welfare office today; something about a job. He put the revolver back behind the badge and medal, heaved his pear-shaped bulk off the bed and started rummaging through his clothes.

* * * * * * * *

"You're late." Ted's caseworker declared as the polar bear shambled into his small office.

It was his standard greeting and Ted ignored it. "You said something about a job?"

The otter threw a file across the table and Ted's belly kept if from flying off the edge. It was a blustery late-November day and Ted had worn his old police parka, minus the patches and other insignia. He pushed the file aside as he undid his coat and made himself comfortable.

"It's only for four weeks, from now until Christmas." The otter explained. "Down at the West-end Plaza. It's not the best neighbourhood, but it's walking distance for you, the pay is decent and there is a chance at a bonus."

"Extra paws in the stockroom?" Ted guessed. "You know I can't lift nothing heavier than a shoebox, Bill."

"No heavy lifting involved." Bill answered with a smirk. "Your 'assistant' will do all that."

Intrigued, Ted reached for the file and opened it. His eyes scanned the paper inside, taking in the details of the job.

"Santa Claus!" He erupted. "You want me to be a mall Santa?" If there was one thing he could not stand it was kids, especially the rug rats of the immigrants, refugees and low lives that lived in his neighbourhood, where the West-end Plaza was located. "Why me?"

"Santa's always depicted as a polar bear. Anyone who wants to do the Santa bit has to be one or dress up as one. Don't ask me why," Bill shrugged, "I'm Jewish. But it goes with the whole North Pole, reindeer thing with the sleigh and the tree and the penguins as elves ..."

"Penguins are not even from the northern hemisphere, let alone the North Pole." Ted pointed out. "I know, I'm from up that way. But that's beside the point. I just don't think that I'm suited for this kind of work. I mean, Geez, look at me!"

Bill the otter leaned forward. "Look, it's simple. The chick who plays Santa's helper runs the show. She controls the line of kids and lifts them up on to your lap. You just have to sit there and ask them whether they have been good and what they want for Christmas."

"There must be more to it than that."

"A little bit, maybe," Bill admitted, "but not much. Stay sober, show up clean and go 'Ho-Ho-Ho' a lot and you've got it made. If you do a good job maybe I can get you in one of the better malls next year. One of the ones that pay enough to keep you in cheap wine and Spaghetti-O's for the rest of the year."

Ted glanced at the paper again. The base salary was three times the minimum wage and the bonus was truly impressive, enough to pay back some of the dough he'd borrowed from his son; show the kid that his old man was not a complete loser.

"I guess I could take a shower and lay off the booze for four weeks." Ted told the otter as he took down the name of the mall manager. "Eat a little healthier, get a little exercise."

"Just don't wear off that belly." Bill said as Ted stood and headed for the door. "It's your money maker. Gentile kids want a fat Santa."

* * * * * * * *

The mall manager was a doberman, and as aggressive as they came, but even he was a bit intimidated by the sear bulk of Ted Adams. "Jesus, what are they sending me?" He moaned. "You are never gonna fit in the suit ... and you're gonna scare the kids. And yet ... it could work. Last year we had a badger that dyed himself white and the junior gang-bangers hung out all the time teasing him ... kept the real customers away. Someone like you ..." He eyed Ted's huge paws and looked up to where his head brushed the ceiling. "Someone like you they would think twice about, especially if we put it out that you was some kind of retired hero cop. Yeah, this could work."

Ted didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. He was still unsure about the whole thing, but he had put some effort into his appearance. He had put gone to the Young Mammals Christian Association hostel where the showers were bigger than the one in his apartment and had washed all the old food out of whiskers that had gone untrimmed since he went on disability. Then he had put on his one good suit and had made a quick stop at the discount haircutters in the mall, just to even things out. When he had looked at himself in the barber's mirror he had to admit that he cleaned up pretty good.

The mall was only about half rented and those stores that were there year-round were of the discount or bulk sales variety. A few temporary stores catering to the holiday trade had opened just for the month before Christmas, selling cheap gifts, shoddy decorations and wrapping paper that had more tube than paper. The mall itself was decked out in decorations that looked like they had been purchased from such an outlet back in sixties, and the scratchy sound track that played over the speakers sounded like it was playing on an eight-track tape. Santa's Throne was an old, hard, wooden monstrosity that looked like it may have been used as an electric chair a few decades ago. The few shoppers that were present with their kids did not look like the type Santa would be visiting unless the old codger had expanded his definition of 'Nice', Ted had thought on the long walk to the manager's office.

"Okay." The doberman said as he pulled employment papers and blank forms out of the drawer of his desk. "This is how it works. You sit for four hours in the afternoon with a break around three and then another four hours after supper with a break at seven. You a smoker?"

"No, never touched the stuff."

"Good. That way you won't smell or be distracted aching for a butt all the time. No smoking in the suit anyway. The kids line up and 'Santa's Little Helper' lets them in and puts them on your lap. She takes their picture with Santa and the image comes up on a screen where the kid and their parents can see it. If the parent wants a copy, or if the kid cries hard enough for one, they pay five bucks for a print, ten if they want it framed. You guys get a buck each, a buck fifty for the framed ones, and the rest goes to the mall to cover expenses. You ask the little brats if they been good and what they want for Christmas. I'm gonna give you a list of the stuff that's popular for you to suggest."

"Like Dina-Bots?" Ted had seen advertisements for this year's 'must have' toy, a set of robotic dinosaurs, all over the city. There were several prominent displays in the mall itself.

"Naw, not them. Even if we could get some of those in they fly off the shelves. No, you push the stuff the stores here have lots of and can't unload. Every sale of those products counts toward your bonus, but it's all or nothing. If you keep clean and respectable ... and sober ... and sales go up enough you get your bonus. But if you embarrass the mall or drive off customers you get dick. Understand?"

Ted's face flushed red, but he held his temper. "Got you." He replied.

"I'm gonna give you a few coupons for a Christmas Diner package too. There's a contest running and any customer that racks up more than a thousand dollars in one day at the stores in the mall is eligible for a full-course family dinner with all the fixings delivered to their door Christmas day. But they have to bring the receipts to Santa to verify, so you check them good. You'd be amazed at what some folks will do for a free meal."

"No, I wouldn't." Ted assured him. He had seen more than his share of greed and desperation when he was a beat cop in this neighbourhood.

"Sure. Fill out those papers and bring them back to me. You start this Friday. The room set aside for you to get dressed is at the other end of the mall, behind 'Santa's Throne'. Go try on the suit now and if it needs adjustment take it to Sue Kwon, the tailor by the rear entrance."

Ted grabbed the papers and stood up. "Okay. Sure thing, mister ...?"

"Hartman." The doberman informed him. "Just Hartman. Oh, and one more thing."

Ted paused in the doorway. "Yes, what?"

"If you know what's good for you, keep your paws off the reindeer."

"Heh?"

* * * * * * * *

Fifteen minutes later Ted was in the change room examining himself in the mirror. The red suit with the white trim was a little short, but the tailor could probably fix that. He didn't need to put on the padding that came with it, or the fake beard. The red cap fit well enough and the plain glass spectacles gave him a grandfatherly look, although not exactly a jolly one. He practised smiling but it made his face hurt.

"Puff you cheeks up." Someone suggested from behind him. A female someone. "It makes you look jollier."

Ted turned and looked down to where he expected to find a short flightless bird dressed in an elf costume. Instead his focused on a pair of long shapely legs in green leotards. He raised his eyes and took in a pair of full hips clad in a short leather skirt fringed with small brass bells, a bare waist and a rather impressive chest bound in more leather and green felt.

"Nice rack." He commented.

"My antlers are up here, Snowglobe." A digit tipped with hard hoof material darted out and poked him in the midriff. Ted didn't notice.

Reluctantly, Ted raised his point of aim some more. The gorgeous body was topped with a long deer's head and a set of large, felt-covered antlers.

"Hey, you're a real reindeer!"

"And you're a real polar bear. Talk about authenticity. Lucky us." She paused, standing with her weight on one leg and her back arched to take him all in. In the leather and felt sleigh-harness outfit she looked like some sort of woodland dominatrix. "I'm Sina." She said.

"Perfect." Ted grinned. "I'm a sinner too."

"No. That's my name. Sina Vinter. My ancestors are Norwegian. Don't make fun of my name or I'll have you up for harassment."

"I was expecting a penguin."

"Yeah, I'll bet. I've been doing this gig for ten years now, ever since I was sixteen, and one thing I've learned is that all of you 'Santas' have an elf fetish. Can't wait to slip the Yule log into a little feathered tail, or under a short furry one. Well forget it. Keep your paws to yourself or I'll have you up for sexual assault, and don't think I won't do it. Hartman knows I run the show down here and he can get another wino to play Santa in an instant."

"I'm not a ...."

"Save it for your parole officer. Listen, this is my last year. In the spring I graduate from the Photojournalism course I've been taking at the local community college and then I'm blowing this town. But that bonus would be really useful in getting me started somewhere else so here's the deal. Behave yourself and I'll show you the tricks of the trade, so to speak. Act like a tailhole and I'll put you through hell. You won't last a day. Deal?"

Ted liked her looks, if not her attitude, and he liked a challenge too. "Deal." He said, holding out his right paw to shake on it. But his left, with the first two digits crossed, was behind his back.

* * * * * * * *

Friday afternoon was as bad as Ted could have imagined worse even. It did not help that he had spent the night before tossing and turning, dying for a drink but determined not to blow this opportunity to get back a little respect from his son.

The lineup was sparse at first, with long stretches when there was no one waiting. Sina used those moments to offer him Santaing advice.

"Sit up straight, Santa does not slouch. Smile with your cheeks so your eyes crinkle. Well if you can`t do it naturally look into a bright light when I take your picture, the squint will help. Less teeth, you look like you were about to dine on a baby seal. And don't scratch your ..."

"Balls?" Ted interrupted as a young feline towing a reluctant kitten approached from behind Sina. "Of course we have balls at the workshop, ho-ho-ho. Santa carries a couple of spares because all the little guys like their balls." Sina gave him a dirty look and lifted the kitten up onto his lap. The little cat screamed and reached for its mother. The camera went off. The photo on the monitor showed Santa grinning bizarrely into the flash while the kitten cried. Its mother went off in a huff without buying a print, framed or otherwise.

The afternoon dragged on. Not a lot of kids in this neighbourhood still believed in Santa and those that did had been disappointed by poor imitations in the past. Each kid pulled his whiskers to see if they were real and plied him with questions about the North Pole, Frosty the Snow Leopard, the elves and the reindeer to see if they could trip him up.

"No, no no!" One five year old mouse corrected when he told him that Sina's name was Rudolf. "Rudolf is a boy reindeer with a red nose. That's a girl."

"You got that right." Ted grinned. The mouse's father, who smelled as bad as Ted used to, grinned too.

"Which one is she?" The young rodent asked.

From behind him Sina pointed to the nameplate on her harness that read "Dancer".

"Her name is Vixen." Ted told the lad, winking at his father. "Because she's a foxy lady."

"She's not a fox!" The boy argued. "She's a reindeer!"

"Give it a few years." Ted advised him. "You'll see what I mean." He finished the ritual of asking what the kid wanted and suggesting other things when he saw the father shaking his head 'no' at the long list of expensive toys.

"But I really want a Dina-Bot." The kid wailed. "Rexi, the leader."

"Well you know son, ho-ho-ho, a lot of boys and girls have been asking for those toys this year and the poor elves have just not been able to keep up with the demand. But if you're really, really good from now until Christmas I'll bet you'll find something really special from Santa under the tree for you like ..." he looked to the father, who mouthed three syllables from behind his son. "Wonder Hare?" Ted had never heard of that particular super hero. The father mimed the words again, exaggerating the mouth movements and pointing to Ted's lap. "Under Bear? Oh, never mind. You'll love it, I'm sure. Next!"

A fuming Sina had rearranged the order of the children in the line while Ted was still chuckling over his vixen joke. The next three kids looked like escapees from quarantine and the fourth had some sort of bladder problem that soaked the leg of the Santa suit. He was the last before the break and Ted hurried back to the change room to get out of the sodden pants before the fur on his leg turned permanently yellow.

"You bitch." He snarled at Sina when she appeared a minute later. "You did that on purpose."

"You got that right Snowball. And if you don't apologize right now you'll get another six hours of the snottiest, sweatiest, most diseased kids that I can find in the mall. Hell, I'll drag them in off the street if I have to." She smiled with fake sweetness.

"Alright, alright. Truce! But what do I do about this mess?"

"Fold up a towel and press it against the stain to absorb the urine. I keep a disinfectant spray in my locker. You can use it this once, but go buy yourself one during the meal hour. After the shift ends rinse the pants out and leave them to dry here overnight. When you get off go to the department store, to the infant section, and buy one of those changing table pads. The kind with two layers of felt with rubber in between. Then go to the fabric section and buy some red dye, a spool of white lace trim and some fabric glue. Put a couple of inches of cold water in your tub tonight and pour the dye in. Let the pad soak in it for an hour and then hang it on a hanger to dry. Tomorrow morning when it's dry glue the trim around the edge. Bring it with you and drape it on your leg when you sit down. It will match the suit and absorb any fluids that come off the clientele. It will keep the suit clean and dry and it's easier to rinse out at night."

"Right, okay. Uh ... thanks."

"Don't thank me. Smelly Santa's don't earn bonuses, for either of us."

* * * * * * * *

Ted barely survived the first week. He continued teasing Sina, despite her help with moisture control, he couldn't help himself. But he soon discovered that Sina had endless ways of making his life miserable, like suggesting that Santa would love to hear some toothless toddler's endless rendition of a single misremembered line from a Christmas carol or telling the ones that smelled like rotten cabbage that Santa loved kisses. He tried to find another outlet, and in doing so managed to offend half of the species living within a ten kilometre radius of the mall and anger several religious groups. The complaints piled up, and Hartman issued several warning, the last indicating that if one more complaint came in Ted could kiss his bonus goodbye. Finally, reluctantly, he learned to keep his comments down to "Merry Christmas" and Ho-ho-ho".

They didn't give out any Christmas dinner coupons that week, although some folk tried to get one by presenting old or doctored receipts. There were a few ugly scenes as mall security had to be called to pull the screaming and swearing fraudsters away. One guy who looked like he had gotten his receipts out of the dumpster actually pulled a knife on Ted, but Sina clocked him with the big brass bell she rang to attract customers before Ted could decide whether to take him on or run.

Despite the complaints, by the end of the week word had gotten around that the West End Mall had a real polar bear Santa. The only other mall with one was the prestigious downtown Eaton Centre, and Sina told Ted that the fellow there earned a decent year's salary in the six weeks leading up to Christmas. That included playing the big guy in the Toronto Santa Claus Parade, which was televised all over the world. But because of the species specific casting more folk were coming to the West-End Plaza from outside the neighbourhood just to see the 'real' Santa. A few of them even did a little shopping while they were there.

By the start of the second week there were no more gaps in the line up, and some of the stores were getting in on the act. One donated lollipops for Santa to give each child at the end of their visit, with the store's name printed on them. A franchise coffee shop started passing out muffins and coffee to the waiting parents. Sure, they were day-old muffins that would have been thrown out anyway, but the coffee was fresh and hot, and came with a discount coupon for another in store. Ted gave away his first legitimate Christmas dinner coupon to a tigress that had spent most of her thousand dollar minimum on shoes at a store where designer overstock was sold at a discount.

The sales figures that were posted in the manager's office went up steadily, surpassing those of the five previous years. At the start of week three, just halfway through Ted's gig, they were already close to bonus territory. By the end of that week, with only seven days to go until Christmas Eve, their bonus was guaranteed, providing that is that Ted didn't manage to get charged with harassment or assault between now and then.

For his part, Ted was looking and feeling better than he had for years. He had not lost a lot of weight but he was a little lighter, and that was good for his aching back. He was still determined to show up at his son's house on Christmas day with a paw full of new twenties and had vowed not to drink on days he was working. Since the job occupied him seven days a week and he had to clean the suit and get it ready after each shift ended at eight he had no idle time to spend in the bars anyway.

His truce with Sina became easier to keep. They had developed a rapport and now exchanged witticisms that were neither too risqué nor mean. She made fun of his prodigious belly, which he shook for the amusement of the children, and he joked about Santa's assistants always being female because they reported back to Mrs. Claus on his movements.

One night after the shift ended Ted asked her "Why is it that whenever you see a mall Santa his assistants are always female?"

"Several reasons." The experienced reindeer replied. "Mother's trust us more with their kids and the kids are more comfortable with us because they are used to female babysitters. Plus we're cuter than males and the single fathers appreciate that. You ever notice that mothers watch their kids but fathers watch the elves or reindeer? No? Well check them out tomorrow. There's another reason that all the reindeer you see this time of year are female. It's because the guy's antlers fall off in autumn. Ours stay on until late spring. It would not do for Santa to be seen with bald reindeer. You got to stick with the image if you want to make any dough in this line of work."

There were actual crowds now in the mall now, most of them there to visit Santa. Hartman came up with a scheme of charging parents five bucks for a set appointment time and ten to skip to the front of the line. The money was split evenly between the mall, Sina and Ted. A couple of stores expanded to take advantage of the increased clientele, and one enterprising chap rented an empty unit and started a babysitting service so that parents could shop in peace after the visit with Santa.

Whether it was because of the clear head, the healthy lifestyle or the thought of showing off in front of his son's family, Ted found that he was enjoying the job. The parents were more polite now and bought more photos. The kids did not seem as rude as they had been in first week; in fact, some of them were downright cute. Many of the younger ones came in showing that sense of wonder that he barely remembered from taking his own son to visit Santa Claus. And he must have been convincing because they went away glowing. He wondered if he would miss that after Christmas, and for the first time he considered asking if he could come back and do this again next year.

The Christmas dinner coupons were moving faster now too as folk began spending their whole Christmas budget in the West-end Plaza. All the fresh commerce attracted the marketing firms and the big manufacturers. Truck loads of toys and goods that would otherwise have been directed to the more popular malls began showing up at the loading dock and Hartman had to hire extra help. The store owners showed their appreciation by putting up funds for new decorations. They even sprang for a new throne for Santa, a truly comfortable and impressive one with an embroidered cover that hung all the way to the floor. Ted kept a bottle of water under there to ease his parched throat between the 'ho-ho-hos' that were coming more often and more naturally now.

The crowning achievement came when Hartman announced that the mall had been chosen to receive a rare shipment of Dina-Bots on Christmas Eve. They were going to raffle off tickets for the right to buy one at the regular retail price. Santa would pull the winning tickets. The news was sure to bring record crowds in. It also gave Ted an idea.

He approached the manager before his shift began the day of the announcement. "Hey, Hartman. What's the chances of getting one of those Dina-Bots put aside for me?"

"Are you kidding? Those things are worth a fortune. I've seen 'em listed online for a thousand bucks. I'll bet you that forty nine of the fifty we sell go up on E-Bay five minutes later."

"I'm not going to resell it. It's for my grandkid."

Hartman gave him a surprised look. "You got offspring?"

"It was a long time ago. Look, if you put one aside for me I'll work two hours extra every night until Christmas." Hartman had been trying to convince the polar bear to work longer hours.

"Okay." The doberman agreed. "But no extra pay. Your bonus is going to be large enough as it is." The dog thought for a moment. "You think that Vinter will go along?"

"Sure, but you'll have to pay her overtime, she's trying to build up a nest egg. You'll make it up and more from the photos she'll sell."

Hartman agreed and Sina was eager to add a few hundred more dollars to her relocation fund. And so began a gruelling week of long hours, countless eager children and anxious adults trying to get in good with Santa in the hopes that they could influence the raffle.

The week passed in a blur and Christmas Eve was on them before they knew it. Ted arrived at the stage where the throne was set up to find hundreds of kids and their parents already lined up. Hartman, in a suit and tie for a change, was waiting also with a red velvet sack that contained the tickets for the raffle.

"There's a Dina-Bot on top." He whispered to Ted as he passed him the sack. "Hold it up for them to see before you start drawing the tickets. Then put it aside. That's the one you can keep."

Ted half expected to find a Dina-Bot that had been damaged in shipment but he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was still in its box and, moreover, that it was one of the rare Rexi Dina-Bots. Hartman probably just grabbed the first one he saw without realizing how much of a prize this one was. After waving it around to get the crowd going Ted slipped it under the throne, where it would be hidden by the embroidered cover. Then he started drawing the tickets and all thought of the single Dina-Bot was abandoned in the frenzy that followed.

After the raffle there were nine hours of last-minute Santa visits to contend with. Some kids had seen him earlier in the month and wanted to change their request. Many came to verify that Santa had received their letter. A few older kids had declared their disbelief of the big white guy in the red suit earlier in the year but had decided to hedge their bets with a quick visit, just in case. There was no shortage of requests for a Dina-Bot, especially from the kids whose parents had come specifically for the raffle, to no avail. It did not help that the company had set up two huge displays on either side of Santa's area, but that was part of the deal to get a shipment in the first place. As the night grew old and the crowds thinned the company guys put banners on the displays reading "The perfect Spring Celebration Gift - New stock available for Easter"

The line had been so long the mall staff had to put up a sign at nine telling folk that no more children would be allowed to line up after that. By then most of the people with kids had already gone home to start celebrating, but a few die-hard shoppers that could not find sitters were still dragging their cubs around the mall. One such, a mixed breed canine lad about eight years old had been left to his own devices by his mother while she scooped up some last minute bargains. The pup sat dutifully still by the planters and alternated between looking longingly at the Dina-Bot display and watching the last few kids have their visit with Santa.

It was five minutes to ten when the last kitten took her lollipop and was lead off by her parents, with several photos of the little cat on Santa's lap to pass out to relatives tomorrow. Ted heaved a sigh and sat back on the throne. Sina began to pack up the camera. Ted noticed that the pup was still sitting there outside the ropes. What the hell, he thought, we still have a few lollipops left. He poked Sina and pointed to the lad. She shrugged and turned to the pup.

"Hey Kid." She called. "You want to visit with Santa before he heads back to the North Pole?"

The pup nodded eagerly. Sina stepped down off the stage and lifted the rope. The pup jumped to his feet and approached the stage. It was only then hat Ted saw that the kid was a cripple. His left foot was twisted to one side, making him lurch when he walked. Having worked the streets Ted knew that the kid would never be picked for sports or asked to join a gang. Instead he would be picked on, bullied and teased. That kind of defect could be fixed, and the provincial health plan would pay for it, but not until the pup had stopped growing. By the kid's attitude could be as twisted as his foot. Ted had seen it before. It was painful watching him climb up on the stage and approach the throne.

"Ho-ho-ho. What's your name little fella?"

"Eugene"

Ouch, Ted winced. This kid just can't catch a break.

"I know that you're not the real Santa." The pup said as Sina lifted him onto Ted's lap.

By now Ted was used to hearing that. He used to react angrily but Sina had taught him how to handle the doubters. "Why do you say that?" He asked with a smile.

"Because the real Santa would have started delivering toys in Asia twelve hours ago and in Eastern Europe six hours ago. Asia would have been easy because there are no too many species that believe in Christmas there, but Europe is full of them. He'd be too busy to be sitting around in a mall all night.

That was a new one, and Ted did not have a good answer ready. "Uh, well, you see, Eugene ... there's a special kind of magic ..."

"Oh, I know about that. That's how you communicate with the real Santa."

"Uh, that's right." Ted didn't argue. It was the last kid of the season, and he would probably be too old to come back next year anyway. "Sorry, it's my first year working for him. So, what would you like for Christmas? I'll, uh, pass it on to the, uh, boss."

"It's too late." The pup chided him. "The elves packed Santa's sack before he left the North Pole. Everyone knows that, duh. Besides, I know how it works. Santa can't give everything every kid wants. That's not what Christmas is about."

Ted couldn't help asking "What is it about?"

"It's about giving. If someone wants to give you something you get it. That's what Santa does. He brings the things that other people want you to have at Christmas."

"So, you don't want anything for yourself?"

The pup looked over his shoulder to the Dina-Bot display. "Sure I do." He said turning back. "But that's not why I came here. It's about my mom."

Ted had a bad feeling that whatever the kid asked for his mother, she would not find it under the tree in the morning, if they even had a tree. He suddenly did not want to hear it, because that would mean disappointing the kid on what was probably his last real Christmas. "You, uh, did mention that the sleigh is already loaded, kid. I'm afraid that it's too late to add anything to it for your mom."

"Oh, that's okay." The pup smiled up at him. I don't want anything for her that comes in a box or a package. You see, she works real hard as a cook to pay the rent and the bills," he held up two digits, " at two jobs. Six days a week. And tomorrow she's going to cooking all day so that we can have a real holiday feast, even though it's just going to be a small chicken, not a turkey. But there will be real gravy and roast potatoes and a pudding that she's going to make from scratch." The pup looked down and sighed. "It's a lot of work for just the two of us, but she insists. It wouldn't be Christmas without the meal, she says."

"I'm confused." Ted admitted. Behind the pup Sina looked equally confounded. "What exactly is it that you want for your mom?"

"I just want my mom to take a break. I want her to have a good Christmas but she should take it easy and relax and enjoy the day, for a change. I just want us to spend some time together."

"How can I do that?"

"I think that she thinks that you are the real Santa Claus. She keeps saying so anyway. I tried to tell her that the real Santa wouldn't be hanging out at the West-end Plaza, but you know how moms can be."

Ted smiled, remembering his own mother up in Churchill. "Yeah, I know."

"So I figured that if you told her that it was okay to take a break, maybe just order in some pizza or something, maybe with some instant pudding and canned cranberries she would, you know?" The pup looked up into Ted's face hopefully. "She couldn't argue if it came from 'the real Santa', could she?"

Ted could see the hope in the pup's eyes. He just stared back at the kid for half a minute, unsure of what to say. Then he remembered something.

"Sina, I mean, Dancer. Do we still have any of those coupons left?"

Sina came around behind the throne and whispered into his ear. "I've got one left. But if we don't have the receipts to show Hartman he'll make us pay for it. It's a hundred dollar value."

"Pass it over." Ted whispered back. "I'll pay for it out of my bonus." Sina pulled out the coupon and slipped it into his paw. Ted nodded in thanks and looked back down into the wide brown eyes of the pup. "Well kid," he said, "You got a few things wrong. For one thing, we always keep a few gifts aside for last minute emergencies, like this. This here is a coupon for a full Christmas dinner. Turkey, stuffing, fresh cranberries, roast potatoes and gravy. It even comes with Christmas crackers, eggnog and real plum pudding. She doesn't even have to do the dishes because it all comes with its own plates and cups and cutlery. All she has to do is call the number on the coupon, give them the serial number and tell them where and when to deliver it. What do say about that?"

The pup's face lit up. "Oh gosh! This is great! She is going to be so happy when she sees this." The pup looked up from the coupon, his eyes sparkling. "Thank you. Thanks ... Santa." The kid was so eager to go tell his mother that he jumped off Ted's knee and stumbled when he landed on his bad foot. But it didn't deter him. He righted himself and hurried off the stage in a rambling shuffle, looking around for his mom.

"Eugene, wait." The pup skidded to halt as Ted's voice boomed. The kid turned to face the big polar bear, "Come here." Ted told him. Eugene inched towards him, clutching the coupon as if he was afraid that Ted would take it back.

"I have one more thing for you." Ted said reaching under the throne. He pulled out the Dina-Bot and put it in the kid's paws. "For being a good pup and a better son. Merry Christmas."

The pup's eyes went wide with real wonder. "It's a Rexi." He whispered reverently. "No one at school has one of these yet."

Nor were they likely to in this neighbourhood, Ted reflected, given the price. "Now, don't you be taking that to school where it could be, uhm, lost." He cautioned. "You just invite friends you can trust to come over and play with it."

Ted saw that the Pup's mother had spotted him on the stage with Santa and was heading over at full steam. The kid shuffled over to meet her and proudly displayed the coupon and the robotic dinosaur. "Mall promotion." Sina explained to the confused canine. "We give them away at secret times throughout the day. You son Eugene was lucky to be here for the last one." The mother smiled, asked Sina to pass her compliments to the mall management and swore that she would only shop there from now on. Sina sent them away before they could get locked in as the mall was closing. Ted and Sina watched them as they left, chatting loudly about what they would do tomorrow now that she didn't have to cook.

As soon as they disappeared around the corner Sina turned to Ted, reached up and grabbed a double paw full of the red suit he was wearing and pulled his face down to hers. Before he could react she gave him a full, deep kiss that she held for at least five seconds.

"That was the nicest thing that I've ever seen anyone do." She said breathlessly as she broke off the kiss.

Ted looked down into her dark brown eyes. Her head was thrown back, her lips were slightly parted, her cleavage was exposed. One of his paws wandered north. She slapped it back down.

"Don't ruin it." She told him, stepping back away from him, but not too far away. "Look, I'll square the coupon with Hartman, tell him it was ruined and that I threw it out. He trusts me."

"Thanks Sina."

"That Dina-Bot, wasn't it supposed to be for your grandson?"

"Yeah."

She looked around. All the stores that sold toys or child wear were closed. "You have a backup plan? Because unless he's into craft wine it looks like you are out of luck for a replacement present."

"No." Ted sighed. "That was it."

"Well, maybe you'll find something open tomorrow morning."

"Maybe." They started moving toward the change room, where their bonus cheques would be waiting for them. "Say, Sina, do you want to go for a drink, or a late supper maybe? It's on me, just to say thanks for all your help."

"I'd really like to Ted, but my family is waiting up for me. Norwegians like to exchange presents Christmas Eve after a big family dinner."

"Sure. No Problem. Some other time." But Ted knew that she would be leaving town as soon as she graduated, and he had no way of contacting her in the meantime.

She stood looking at him with her hooves on her hips. "You doing this again next year?" She asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes. I think that I will."

"Well, I'll be back to visit my folks come Christmas. What do you say we go for that drink then?"

"Sure. I'll be looking forward to it." Ted smiled, but his smile was the one he had learned to paste on his face back at the beginning, before he started to enjoy this work. He was certain that he would never see Sina again. He let her use the change room first so she could get back home while her dinner was still warm. She gave him a peck on his cheek as she left the mall.

"Good luck tomorrow." She called as she sped off down the main hall of the mall.

"Yeah." Ted said aloud to himself. "Good luck. I'm gonna need that."

* * * * * * * *

The high that Ted had been on for the last week was gone, replaced by the emptiness and the thirst that he had lived with for the past dozen years. All the stores that sold wine, liquor and beer were closed. There were a number of bars still open, but Ted did not stop for a drink on his way home. He dearly wanted to, but each time he got close to one some loving couple or laughing group of friends would exit and remind him of how lonely he felt, and he would hurry on down the road to avoid them.

He made it home and trudged up the three flights of stairs to his apartment. The building was dark and quiet, eerily quiet considering what night it was. Not too many of the resident winos, prostitutes and addicts celebrated Christmas, he guessed. The only neighbours dropping in tonight would be those with robbery on their minds. But who in this building had anything worth taking? Not him. He had deposited his cheque in the ATM outside the bank at the mall without bothering to make a withdrawal. Hell, he thought, I don't even have a Dina-Bot for them to steal. Some neighbour I am.

Well, there is my service revolver, he reminded himself. The last useful thing I own.

Ted unlocked the door and entered, being careful to lock it again behind him. He flopped down on the unmade bed and stared at the floor between his knees. He considered turning on his old thirteen-inch television but it had just turned midnight and the stations would be full of cheery images, church bells and happy families. No, he thought, he had seen quite enough of that in the last four weeks. Now it was time to get back to his normal.

Normal, he scoffed. Normal was living alone in a one-room apartment without a phone because he had no one to call or to call him. Normal would see him back in the bars every night until the Santa money ran out. Then it would be back to drinking cheap wine reinforced with a little aftershave, eating from cans for two weeks after his disability check came in and from dumpsters for the next two. How long could you live like that, he wondered? Not long, he was sure. Odds were he would be dead before next Christmas, the victim of a ruptured liver or failed kidneys or plain old exposure after passing out with a belly full of rotgut.

Suddenly, Ted could not take it anymore. Not the loneliness, not the antisocial attitude he adopted to cover it up, and mostly, not the prospect of slipping back into that mean existence.

I could be dead by next Christmas, he thought as his eyes rose to the shelf where he kept his mementos. I could be dead sooner.

Ted reached up and pushed aside the badge and his bravery medal. His paw closed around the cold metal object he had shoved behind them. He knew what he had to do.

* * * * * * * *

Nate Adams heard the doorbell ring late on Christmas morning and wondered who it could be. He had just gotten off the phone with his mother and she said she was going to church before coming over for Christmas dinner. She said she was going to pray for his father again because that's what good Christians did, they prayed for miracles. The thought of his father brought a chill to Nate's spine. He had been expecting some cop to show up at the door for years now with the news that his dad had died in some bar fight or gotten hit by a bus while staggering down the middle of the street or something similar. For some reason he just knew that today was the day when he opened the door and learned his father's fate, and the thought froze him in his tracks.

The bell rang again.

"Are you going to get that dear?" Betty called from the living room where their son had recently finished destroying a ton of ribbon, colourful paper and a number of cardboard boxes to get at the presents hidden within them.

"Yeah. I'm on it." He called back, shaking the heebie-jeebies off as he advanced down the hall. He hadn't seen his father in months, why think of him now?

Nate opened the door and his jaw dropped. "Holy mother of Jesus." He swore.

"Not quite." His father answered nervously twisting the brim of a new felt hat between his massive paws.

Nate stared at his father. The last time he has seen him was outside his office building late August. Then his dad had been dressed in dirty track pants, an open shirt and sandals. His hair had looked like he had been struck by a small tornado and his breath could have served as an alternate fuel source. Nate had given him fifty dollars just to get him away before someone he knew came along. But now his father was groomed, smelled slightly of lilacs and was dressed in clothes that were clean and new. So new that they still had the creases from sitting on the store shelves. The big white bear stood silently, waiting for his son to speak.

"What - ..." He fought to compose himself. "What are you doing here?"

"It's Christmas. I came to give something to you son."

Anger rose up in Nate. "My son? You mean your grandson? The one you have never come to visit in the five years since he's been born? That son?"

Ted winced, but kept his voice even, contrite. "I've missed a number of opportunities ..."

"A number of them? Starting with his baptism. But I suppose I'm to blame for that one. I should have known better than to schedule it for after the bars were open. And then there was his first birthday ...."

Ted bowed his head as his son unleashed his anger on him. "Look, son ..." he began when Nate paused for breath.

"Don't 'son' me." Nate began, but he was interrupted by a soft sound that came from below and behind him. Ted looked down into a pair of round black eyes staring up at him in wonder.

"Who's that daddy?" The cub asked.

Nate looked like he didn't want to answer, but the gasp from behind him revealed that his wife had come to join the crowd at the door. Ted remembered meeting her when his son got engaged. She was a very religious black bear, like Ted's wife had been, and something he had done at the engagement party had gotten him uninvited to the wedding, but he couldn't remember what.

"Hello Claire." He greeted her, and then waited for her response.

He voice was a little on the cold side, but tinged with curiosity as she instructed her husband to introduce the caller to their son.

"Son, this is your grandfather Adams. Dad, this is your grandson, ..."

"Nick." Ted finished for him, squatting down to address the cub from its own height. Claire's father had been named Nick, he recalled. "Your name is Nick, and mine is Ted. You can call me Grampa Ted, or Grampa Teddy if you like."

"Grampa Teddy." The five-year old said. "You look like Santa."

Ted laughed. "Yes, I do a bit. And I have brought you a gift. Here it is." Ted pulled a cylindrical metal object out of the big pocket of his overcoat and passed it to the cub. It had a square base with a brass plaque on it and the figure of a bear holding up a wreath on top. "Nate Adams" was etched on the plate, and "Provincial Champion - Decathlon" with a date below that.

"This is a trophy your dad won when he was in High School." Ted explained as the cub examined the prize. "He beat everyone else in Ontario to win it. That was the last time I saw him compete, before, uh, before I went away for a while. He earned a bunch of bigger ones in University, but I kept this one to remind me of what a great guy your dad is, and to make me happy when I had the blues. But now that you're five I want you to have it, so you'll know what a cool guy your dad is, and to inspire you to do good too. Every kid should have a dad like yours to inspire them," he looked up at his son, "but not every kid gets one."

Ted straightened up, slowly because despite some weight loss over the last four weeks he was nowhere near being back in shape. "Well," he said, "I guess that I better be getting along."

He turned away from the silence but before he could step down off the front porch Claire poked Nate in the side and said "Nate, why don't you invite your father in?"

Ted turned back. He could tell from Nate's expression that his son could think of a dozen reasons why not to invite Ted in, but her expression was insistent, but then Nick chipped in with "I'd like Grampa Teddy to stay and tell us about Dad's traph-, troph-, ... prizes." Nate's resistance broke.

"Why don't you come in and sit for a while?" Nate said through a grimace.

Ted ended up doing more than sitting. He stayed and played with Nick, and when his ex-wife arrived two hours later he was as contrite as she was charitable. She insisted that he stay for dinner, and although she made Nate forgo the usual holiday libations it went well. They told stories of the old days. They found something to laugh about, something to cry about, and even something to argue about, without letting it get nasty. Just like a real family, Ted thought, as Nate helped him on with overcoat as the afternoon changed to evening.

"Nate ..." Ted began hesitantly. "Do you think that I could come by and see guys again? After the holidays, I mean. I don't want to put a kink in your plans."

"Sure ... dad. How about two weeks from today? The Friday after New Year's?"

"Sure. That sounds good."

"Are you going to be okay in the meantime?"

"Oh yeah. I'm going to be busy, brushing up my resume. I figure I better get a job if I'm gonna take Nick to ball games and hockey games and buy him soccer shoes and stuff. I figure I could get a job as a mall cop or something."

"Dad, you don't have to pay for any of that. I'm doing really well. My firm makes so much money they subsidize sports activities for our kids. They even run a charity that helps underprivileged kids with handicaps get into sports programs. I run it, as a volunteer."

"Really? Do they ever, like, pay for surgery to correct defects, so kids can participate in regular sports?"

Nate scratched his head. "We haven't, but I suppose we could. Why?"

"There's a kid I want to tell you about the next time I come." Ted said over his shoulder as he went down the steps of his son's front porch. "He lives in my neighbourhood. His name is Eugene."

"Ouch."