2019 Advent Challenge

There were lots of things about human society that perplexed Lazarus, and Christmas was one of them.

They didn't have seasons in the Underworld where he'd grown up, so the whole idea of a wintertime celebration was kind of lost on him. However, now that he was living on Earth, he felt that he really needed to familiarise himself with these weird things that humans did.

'Christmas is a time when people give each other presents, eat nice food, and put up decorations,' said eleven-year-old Flora one evening, after Lazarus had asked her to summarise Christmas in one sentence.

'OK,' he said slowly. 'But what's the deal with this 'Santa Claus' guy? Is he some made-up thing like the Easter Bunny?'

'Well, Santa isn't real. But lots of people believe he is.' Flora's voice dropped to a whisper, as if she were afraid the 'believers' might be eavesdropping. 'Some parents tell their kids that he's real, but my parents never bothered with that.'

Lazarus sat down on the edge of her bookshelf, gazing into the distance. 'How do you know for sure that he's not real, redhead?' He didn't want to admit it, but he was pretty intrigued by the idea of a bearded guy in a funny hat sneaking into peoples' houses at night to leave presents. Santa must be great at stealth to accomplish something like that! And he appreciated people who were great at stealth.

Flora gave him a confused look. 'But he's not real,' she said, causing him to let out an exasperated huff.

'OK, so what if I prove it?' he said, jumping to his feet and grinning at her in a challenging way. 'You said he visits on Christmas Eve, right? So, I'll stay awake and wait for him. And when he comes, I'll tell you all about it.'

Flora's lips twitched in a smile, and Lazarus had a sneaking suspicion that she was trying to hold back laughter.

Well, he didn't care. He was going to prove Santa Claus was real, and then who would be laughing?

---

Lazarus spent the next three weeks impatiently counting down the days until Christmas. Neither Flora nor her annoying guardian angel Marissa took his 'mission' seriously at all, but he knew the joke would be on them after he got photographic evidence of Santa's existence.

At 9PM on Christmas Eve, he sat perched on Flora's bedpost like a tiny bird, his eyes fixed on the door. Below him hung a red-and-silver stocking, which she explained would be filled with presents in the morning. She had never actually seen it being filled, though.

'But I know who does it,' she protested, when Lazarus tried to use this as 'proof' that she didn't know Santa was real. 'It's my dad. He said so.'

'He's just using that as a cover story, redhead!' he snorted. 'They can't let the truth get out!'

'Lazarus, Santa Claus is just a story.'

'Oh yeah? Then why do some people think he's real and some people don't? C'mon, there's got to be a grain of truth in this 'story'.'

Before Flora could attempt to point out the glaring flaws in his logic by mentioning all the other things that weren't real even though some people believed in them, Marissa darted up onto the other bedpost and calmly interrupted them. 'Flora, dear, I know Lazarus is being silly, but he's not going to believe he's wrong until he sees it with his own eyes.'

'Yeah, I'm gonna see Santa, and then you two are gonna be begging for my forgiveness!' Lazarus snapped, shifting his position to get more comfortable on the post. 'Just go to sleep or something, will you?'

Flora sighed and, without another word, pulled her duvet over her head and was asleep within minutes. Marissa flew up onto the bedside cabinet, where an old tissue box lined with soft pieces of fabric had been placed for her to sleep in.

And Lazarus stayed on the bedpost, waiting.

He couldn't lie, he did fall asleep several times during the night. He just wasn't used to staying awake in the dark, dammit!

However, just as the clock hit 11PM, he heard the sounds of something shuffling around in the hallway outside, barely audible through the closed door.

His heart began to beat faster. This was it – the moment he'd been waiting for. He briefly contemplated waking Flora up, but then remembered her story about how Santa wouldn't come if any children were awake, and decided quickly that she was better off asleep.

Where's my camera? he thought, scrabbling in his pockets and eventually finding a little digital camera. It was more or less the size of a sunflower seed.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Lazarus's heart nearly stopped when he saw a giant figure standing silhouetted in the threshold. It was impossible to make out their features in the dark, but he could see the shape of a beard and a long floppy hat. And they were carrying a sack of wrapped presents, dragging it along the floor behind them.

The huge man walked into the room, moving quietly to avoid disturbing Flora.

When he got close to the spot where Lazarus was sitting, he panicked. He was pretty sure Santa couldn't see him, but he didn't want to take the risk. Forgetting all about his camera, he dived onto the bed and threw himself clumsily under Flora's duvet.

A moment later, he bravely stuck his head out to see what was going on. The man was crouching down at the foot of the bed, carefully placing numerous presents into the red-and-silver stocking.

When he was done, he stood up and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Lazarus slowly crept out of the duvet and flew back up onto the bedpost, feeling much more shaken than he'd expected to. I was right! Santa's real! Ha! You're gonna be eating your words, Flora! I WAS RIGHT!

...And then he remembered that he hadn't taken a single picture.

Oh well. She's got to believe me, right? I actually SAW him! I'll tell her exactly what happened, and she'll HAVE to believe me.

He flew underneath the bed to the pile of plush toys that he normally slept in, and drifted off with a smile on his face.

---

Flora did not believe him.

'Santa isn't real!' she exclaimed. 'Marissa, tell him Santa isn't real.'

'Santa isn't real,' said Marissa obediently. She was sitting on the floor, reading one of the books Flora had gotten from her stocking a few minutes ago. The three of them were currently alone together in her bedroom while her parents busied themselves with making breakfast.

Flora huffed. 'That wasn't very convincing.'

Lazarus looked back and forth between them with an incredulous expression.

'Uh, are we having the same conversation here? I saw him! It was this big guy with a beard and a hat and--'

'Lazarus,' Flora cut him off. 'Did you even see what the man looked like, except that he had a hat and a beard?'

'No, but--'

Right on cue, the bedroom door opened and Flora's dad poked his head in. He was a tall man, with thinning brown hair and a spectacular beard. 'Breakfast's ready!' he announced with a smile before backing out into the hallway again.

Dead silence filled the room.

'...You know,' said Flora as she jumped off the bed, 'my dad often wears a Santa hat at Christmas.'

With a final cheeky grin at Lazarus, she hurried out of the room.

Marissa took one look at the young devil's shellshocked expression and burst out laughing. 'Oh, dear,' she said in between chuckles. 'And you were so sure you were right...' She patted him on the back before darting after Flora, eager to partake in the eating of Christmas breakfast.

Lazarus sat down on the bed.

'...I still haven't proven he's not real!' he yelled after the two girls. From the hallway, he could've sworn he heard a faint, tinkling laugh.