Read Online The Fat Man by Ken Harmon - Free Book Online Page A

big belly, the rosy cheeks, the twinkle in his eyes—they were all gone. In their place was a stick bum in a baggy red suit. Santa’s lush white beard was coming out in mangy clumps and his hair was flat and slick. Worst of all, you could tell Santa had been crying.
    Santa stared at me for a good half a minute with those sad, tired eyes before he said in a hoarse whisper, “May I come in, Gumdrop?”
    I lost my voice, but I managed to swing the door open and show him to the couch. He rested there for a minute and then noticed all the questions in my eyes. “Sit down, son,” he said. “Sit down.”
    “You don’t look so good, Nick,” I said, pulling up a chair.
    “Good,” he said with a slight smile. “I don’t feel so well either, my boy, so I am glad that I am not mismatched.”
    “You’re working too hard, Santa.”
    “You are probably right, Gumdrop,” Santa said. “But the work of giving is not what is troubling me. How have you been spending your time recently, son?” Suddenly, Santa’s jaw was tight, his eyes still. He was steeling himself for the lie he knew I was going to tell him.
    “I’ve been keeping myself occupied,” I said, getting as close to the truth as was comfortable for the moment. “I’ve traveled some. I’m just trying to figure what to do next.”
    It wasn’t the answer Santa wanted to hear, so he turned his head away like he didn’t want to look at me when he called me on the carpet. “I know you’ve been traveling,” he said. “And I am heartbroken at how you’ve been keeping yourself occupied.”
    I couldn’t lie to the old man. “How’d you find out?”
    “Shame on you!” Santa said in the coldest voice I’d ever heard. “Shame on you! An elf represents the North Pole, Gumdrop, just as much as I do. You physically assaulted people, embarrassed them, frightened them. You frightened children, Gumdrop!”
    “I went after the parents, Nick,” I said.
    “Well, little Raymond Hall Junior wrote me a letter and told me that an elf, one of my elves, beat up his father with a telephone,” Santa thundered back. “The child saw it; he was there. I can only imagine what that little, little boy will think of the Christmas season for the rest of his life.”
    “I hope he will see the season for what it’s supposed to be,” I said. “A time for thinking about somebody other than yourself.”
    “Pity you could not heed that same advice,” Santa said. “I now know this is not about keeping children from becoming naughty; it’s not about the integrity of Christmas or even a dose of tough love. This is Gumdrop Coal’s personal vendetta and it saddens me to the bottom of my heart.”
    “You’re wrong, Santa,” I said. “I can see why it looks that way, but you’re wrong.”
    Santa seemed surprised at my tone. After a moment, he shook his head and said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.”
    “Then you’re listening too much to Candy Cane,” I said. I was getting angry. “He’s been spreading whoppers about me since before all this started.”
    “Are you honestly trying to blame your behavior on Candy?” Santa asked. “Did he attack those children’s parents? Did he make a child afraid at Christmastime? I suppose you agree with your little Misfit friend, Sherlock Stetson, that Candy also heads up the Misfit Mafia.”
    “I don’t know anything about that, Santa,” I said. “All I know is that once Citizen Cane burst onto the scene, you started giving me and my work the stink eye. Before I know it, I’m out, he’s in and every brat with a wish is getting what it wants for Christmas. It doesn’t seem fair and there seems to be more to it than that, but I don’t know what. You don’t look so good, Nick. Maybe Sherlock is on to something after all. Weren’t there threats after Mr. Snowman was plowed over?”
    Santa held up his hand; he had heard enough. He got to his feet and walked to the door without looking back. He opened the door and