Read Online Mary’s Son by Darryl Nyznyk - Free Book Online Page A

realized there was nothing she could do. She was trapped. She looked up, straight into Jared’s eyes as if daring him to act. He smiled, motioned his friends to let her go, and said, “Beat it, girl, before you run into someone who takes a liking to you.”
    Sarah didn’t hesitate once an opening appeared between the boys. She ran through it and barely heard the catcalls and jeers behind her.
    “We coulda really gotten her, Jared. Why’d you let her go?” asked Burner.
    “That’s Jonas Stone’s kid. We don’t need the cops down here now,” Jared said. He shook his head at his friend’s stupidity. “You gotta think. All of you gotta think. Let’s go.”
    As the others walked away, Jared stood perplexed, staring after the running girl who had just turned up the driveway to the children’s home.

- 7 -
     
    Sarah didn’t stop running until she was well within the grounds. She was so terrified of her brush with certain death that she could not even appreciate her escape. She ran until she reached the midway point of the driveway before she finally stopped. Breathing heavily, she turned to make sure no one was following. She then broke down and cried. After a few minutes of trying to compose herself, she spied the Nativity globe lying in the mud next to the driveway. She reached for it slowly, picked it up, and gently cleaned it off. Then, after a moment of indecision, she hugged it close.
     

     
    INSIDE the great room of the Penford Children’s Home, Nicholas had changed into a traditional Santa Claus outfit and looked every bit the part. He was surrounded by nearlyone hundred children, some of whom were sick, others crippled, and all of whom were hungry for the attention and love of Santa.
     
    Stevens stood next to Nicholas, smiling broadly at the expectation he sensed from the children. He held a large cloth sack, which looked very much like it had nothing inside. He wore an elf cap and tunic awkwardly on his gaunt frame. Nicholas placed his hands on his knees and addressed the children.
    “Have you all been very good this year?”
    “Yeah!” they shouted.
    Nicholas’s smile faded suddenly and was replaced by a cockeyed, quizzical look.
    “Well, I guess some of you haven’t been so good, have you?”
    Several young, rebellious looking boys and girls put their heads down as if to hide because they’d been discovered.
    “You know, I was young like all of you once,” Nicholas continued. “I always found it hard to be good all the time. You know what I mean?”
    The rebels perked up and nodded slowly, hopefully.
    “I learned a secret about being good, though. Do you want to hear it?”
    All heads bobbed in anticipation.
    “I learned it’s really not possible to be perfectly good all the time. It’s hard work.” Nicholas watched the knowing nods from his audience. “What’s really important is trying your best to be good. If you try your best, then you’ll be good most of the time. And those times you’re not so good, if you really are sorry…deep down inside… then you really are trying, and that’s what matters.”
    All the children smiled. None had ever heard that there was an alternative to “being good.” They figured if they weren’t good, they had no hope of a happy Christmas visit. How great it was to now know about the “trying” thing.
    “Now, have you all tried real hard to be good this year?” Nicholas asked.
    “Yeah!” they all shouted happily.
    Nicholas smiled and looked to a beaming Stevens, who handed him the nearly empty sack. Nicholas reached inside and looked down. When he saw nothing in the tangled interior folds, he reached down farther until he found the bottom and saw a large frozen turkey. He glanced up at Stevens, who frowned and shrugged. Nicholas scratched the back of his neck, deep in thought, and then looked at the children, who stared at him expectantly.
    “Before we see what Santa has in his sack,” Nicholas started, “why don’t we have Jonathan