DECEMBER HINTS OF MISTLETOE

by Njel de Mesa

CHARACTERS:

KID

SANTA CLAUS

(December 24. Around 11:30pm. A Christmas tree, with gifts underneath, is found elegantly standing at dead center. The living room is dimly lit. A silhouette of Santa Claus is seen slowly tiptoeing across the room. Santa then leaves three gifts with very formal “letters of retirement” attached to them. As he stealthily exits, a kid turns the living room light on and catches Santa in mid-movement.)

KID: (Yelling.) HohoHoho!! Merry CHRISTMAS SANTA CLAUS!!

SANTA: (Surprised and in denial.) I’m… er… NOT Santa Claus!!

KID: Then who are you?

SANTA: Uhm… er… I’m a POSTMAN… doing overtime …er… in costume…

KID: (Doubts then panics.) MOM!! DAD!! There’s a thief in the house!!!

SANTA: SSHHhhh… Alright already!! I AM SANTA CLAUS!!

KID: (Suspicious.) Prove it!

SANTA: There’s your gift from me. (Points at the gifts he placed underneath the tree earlier.)

KID: Wow!! (Runs to get his gift.) Oh boy, Santa, this is great… after all these years, I finally get to meet you in person!! Wow! (Shakes the box.) I hope you got the color right!!! (Sees the letter attached to the box.) What’s this? (Reads the letter.) This is to notify all kids concern… that I, Santa Claus, of retirable age, …am retiring from this traditional gift giving chore… effective this Christmas day…(Mumbles.)…due to certain personal issues concerning my health…(Mumbles the rest.) …WHAT??!?! You’re RETIRING!!

SANTA: Yup. Now, take one good look at me… this is going to be your first and last…

KID: Is this possible? (Refering to the letter.)

SANTA: Why not? Am I possible in the first place?!! Look… just go back to your sleep… as if nothing happened… I’m sure Dad and Mom can…will take my place… Go on (Cajoling the kid.)…go on… go back to sleep…

KID: You mean to tell me… I’m NOT asleep?! This is not a dream?! (Kid pinches his/herself. Excited.) Oh boy! Oh boy! Santa Claus! WOW! Santa Claus! WOW!!

SANTA: (Bored) Wow… Santa Claus.

KID: Oh boy! (Sudden pause. The kid squints and looks askance at Santa. Suddenly pulls his beard.)

SANTA: OUCH!! What did you do that for?!!

KID: Just checking. (Goes back to an excited trance.) Oh, Wow! Santa!! Great! Wait ‘til my friends hear this… I’ll be the talk of the town…

SANTA: (Sarcastic.) Whoopee. Santa who?

KID: Aren’t you excited for me?!

SANTA: (Uninterested.) Am I that transparent? You go kid.

KID: WOW! Wait Santa! Wait there! (Kid exits.)

(Santa prepares to leave the house but sees an old broken toy lying on the floor and is drawn to it.)

SANTA: BROKEN?!! ALREADY?!! (Revolted.) This was just last year!

(Kid enters with an automatic camera. Santa doesn’t notice the kid a foot behind him—like a sneaking Paparazzi.)

KID: Santaaaa…

(Santa turns to the kid. Kid surprises Santa by clicking away with the camera. The Camera Flash temporarily blinds Santa.)

SANTA: (Screaming.) AAAAaaaAAaa!!! My EYES!! My eyes!! (Shaking his head to consciousness.) I can’t see !! (Widening his eyes.) What have you done?! Hold my hand!!

KID: (Holding Santa’s hand.) Calm down, Santa,… you’ll be alright!

SANTA: (Yells again.) AAAaaa!! There’s a black hole in the center of my vision! It’s pulling me in!! It’s bouncing up and down? And it’s going… going… gone… (Smiles)…oh.

KID: See.

SANTA: (Petulant.) Yes…NOW I can see.

KID: Teehee. It’s just a camera, Santa.

SANTA: I’m not used to having my picture taken!

KID: Why is that?

SANTA: I’m not worth the exposure.

KID: But they have pictures of you all over town…

SANTA: C’mon, don’t tell me you thought they were from the real McCoy?! (Silence.) They’re just a bunch of unemployed, romanticized, look-a-likes earning extra pounds from gaining extra pounds!

KID: You mean to tell me…they were all fake?

SANTA: Yup.

KID: But you’re not!! (Happily clicks away.)

SANTA: Stop it!! (Santa snatches the Camera.)

KID: (Complaining.) Hey!

SANTA: (Angrily.) Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t break this into pieces!?!

KID: Uhm… because it’s not yours?

SANTA: Well, (Points at the broken toy on the floor.) You broke MINE!?!

KID: No FAIR!! You gave that to me!!

SANTA: Typical. It’s alright for you to break something from me, for being nice… but it’s not alright for me, to break something from you, for being naughty! Ha! And you say, “No FAIR!!”.

KID: (Begging.) Please Santa that’s my Mom’s Camera. If I break it, Dad’s going to kill me!

SANTA: One less naughty kid to worry about.

KID: (Yelling.) MOM!! DAD!! Santa’s going to break the new Camera!!

SANTA: (Hesitates.) SSShhhh… What’s this!! Betraying me so soon!

KID: Isn’t that what your doing to us with this letter? Betraying us… kids?

SANTA: Whoa. Ixnay on the “B” word. You’ve no idea what that word means.

KID: (Confused.) Why… what does it… mean… er…. exactly?

SANTA: You won’t understand. It takes time, age, experiences, an insistent giving heart… (Beat.) …and kids that turn from nice to naughty…

KID: Huh?

SANTA: Nice kids… they were… they start by giving me letters of sweet promises… so that I’ll grant them their wish! And then…

KID: And then…

SANTA: And then… I’d foolishly concede to their requests… I tell myself, “Oh come on, don’t be a killjoy… give them the toy! Where’s your Christmas spirit!” And then…

KID: And then…

SANTA: And then… they go back to school swaggering with their new toys, showing it off for everyone to notice. Here’s the twist… when another kid comes swooning and kindly tries to borrow it… guess what the other kid gets… (Santa pokes out his tongue.)

KID: Oh.

SANTA: Every time that happens… feels like I’ve been had! I unwittingly gave another undeserving kid a very precious part of me!!

KID: I understand. They DID promise to do good… and they did NOT keep their end of the deal.

SANTA: (Plaintive Sigh.) Do you know what that means? Means… I’ve tolerated this kind of unhappy turn out for many, many, many, many, many, many, many years now. Each year… trying… haplessly… to find the stamina to give… to these seemingly nice kids… and be wrong all over again…

KID: Wow, Santa… Someday, when I grow up… I want to be just like you…

SANTA: (Trying to be funny.) What? Fat and unhappy?

KID: No. Somebody who loves his job. (Pause.) You DO love this job?

SANTA: You know… sometimes… it gets so harrowing and fatiguing that I forget whether I do or did love this job.

KID: Oh, come on Santa! I’m sure it made you happy making us happy every Christmas?!

SANTA: That… I cannot deny.

KID: And I’m sure you had fun shopping, wrapping, and making all those wonderful toys!

SANTA: Can’t remember when… but I guess there was a time…

KID: Doing this job for so long, I bet you can accurately guess what’s inside those gifts!

(Points at the gifts under the Christmas tree.)

SANTA: (Smiling.) A demonstration?

KID: Cool!! (Goes to the Christmas tree.) Where would you want to start?

SANTA: From the top to bottom.

KID: (Getting one gift from top of a pile.) That’s from me… for my sister!! (Hands it to Santa.)

SANTA: (He shakes it a little.) It’s a special edition, Eliza Doolittle, My Fair Lady, Barbie doll with jointed elbows and knees plus bonus accessories!!

KID: (Awestruck.) Wow. (Pause.) This is from Dad to Mom. (Shaking the box.) Feels empty. I knew it Dad’s a cheapskate!

SANTA: (Sniffing at the box.) No he’s not. This is really expensive.

KID: What is it?

SANTA: You don’t want to know.

KID: How about this one… for my little brother… from my…sister… (Passes the gift to Santa.)

SANTA: (Without even touching the gift.) Ugh!! Stickers!!

KID: How can you say that?? You didn’t even touch it!?!

SANTA: Believe me. I know your sister. And besides, I can hear a Lisa Frank sticker pack in a box from a mile away.

KID: (Disgusted. Shaking the box.) My sister’s giving my brother Lisa Frank stickers for Christmas?!!

SANTA: Don’t worry some are Blue’s Clues!

KID: Still… Blue IS a girl!

SANTA: Really? That one I haven’t heard.

KID: How about… (Chooses another gift.) … let me see…hmmm…

SANTA: (Bored waiting, he puts down the Camera and starts picking up the boxes on his own. Yelling, one gift after another.) TEFLON FRYING PAN!! DUTCH BISCUITS!! PICTURE FRAME! T-SHIRT! WALLET! ANOTHER WALLET!! BELGIAN CHOCOLATES!! (Pauses. Fascinated with one of the gifts.) … A… Notebook…

KID: What kind?

SANTA: I don’t know… (Listens through the wrapping curiously.) A very special notebook… interesting… must be a work of heart… (Snaps out. Resumes.) …CD! HANDKERCHIEF SET! HAND TOWEL! SCENTED CANDLE! ANOTHER SCENTED CANDLE! SCENTED CANDLE AGAIN! MUG! And…

KID: Wait!! Not that!! That’s mine!! I don’t want to know until later…

SANTA: That’s enough! I’ve proven once more that I’ve mastered this extra sensory perception skill in guessing gifts!! (Takes a bow.)

KID: (Applauding.) Among other skills I suppose… I’m sure you’re also a master toy maker… and—

SANTA: --Actually, I’ve done and given so many different kinds for so many different kids… I never had the time to master them all… but I do know one thing that I’ve truly mastered all these years…

KID: What’s that?

SANTA: Giving!!

KID: That’s not a skill!?!

SANTA: Oh, yes it is… when you’re scrambling for resources and money… so you can go on giving.

KID: Why? Who spends for our gifts?

SANTA: You’re looking at him.

KID: (Dumbfounded.) You?!! (Pause.) Just you?

SANTA: Yes. (Thinks again.) Well, sometimes, I borrow from my wife.

KID: Wow. You must be rich.

SANTA: Not at all. Oh, but once I tried to get funding from supposedly charitable philanthropists… (Reminiscing.) Funny, what I did was… disguise myself as a member of a gift giving foundation… and begged with panache…But of course, no one believed me…

KID: Why? Didn’t you tell them you’re Santa?

SANTA: (Sarcastic.) Sure. You really think they’ll believe that!

KID: Why not?

SANTA: Why NOT? People believe what they want to believe!! And I’m not someone they’d want to believe… perhaps… it makes them less secure of their maturity… or perhaps their just basically guilty that their not as giving to others… So, they refuse to believe.

KID: So, you’re quitting?

SANTA: So, I’m quitting.

KID: Just like that.

SANTA: Nobody listens anyway.

KID: Mother Theresa said give anyway.

SANTA: She gets a lot of help…

KID: You’ve got your elves…

SANTA: (Incredulous.) You think? (Pause.) In any case, she’s real… I’m not.

KID: You are to me!!

SANTA: You’ll grow up…

KID: What’s wrong with that?

SANTA: The older you get… the more you forget. (Takes a deep breath.) It’s only during the Christmas season that Santa is remembered. It’s only during the Christmas season that I exist. And it’s only during the early years of your life that I will matter. Tomorrow morning… your heart will leap with newfound happiness in receiving something that you had wished for! You’ll be so overjoyed, that you won’t even remember or find time to write me even a small “thank you” note. Not that I give to receive some gratitude. But I think, I’d also like to read something from you… other than a wish-list.

KID: Is that what you wish for?

SANTA: Not really. Some kids just say, “thank you” so that they can get a better toy next year. What I’d wish for is that you’d keep my gift as precious as it was to me. Sad…that you think Santa wouldn’t mind if you leave his gift just lying anywhere… or trade it for a nicer remote controlled one. It really doesn’t matter to you. But to me, it does. And it does bother me when you forget…who gave you that toy and I can’t be there to remind you; I did. The same thing will happen next year… the year after next year… and so on… until you’re eleven. That age, you’ll think you know what’s really happening… “SANTA is Mommy… and CLAUS is Daddy!”. So you begin to pretend to believe… just to get what you want. Until you’re fourteen… when Santa becomes just a hefty eye-catching commercial icon on the back of a soda delivery truck with a Merry Christmas blurb. Finally, you’ll close the Jolly St. Nick Storybook for the Holidays and exile me to freeze in the North Pole until your young gets born… and you can use me again for your own merry purpose. (Pause.) You see… I’ve given all of you… all of me. And I’ve gotten… not even the least bit of a more lasting ‘remembrance’… so now…

KID: You’re tired…

(Santa nods.)

KID: I never saw this day coming Santa… but (Looking at Santa’s retirement letter.) …you do have every right… to retire… but before you go… I want you to have this… (Gets a small box.) …I stayed up all night so I can personally give you…

SANTA: (Astounded.) A Gift !?!

KID: Yes, Santa…

SANTA: (Looking incredulously at the kid.) For me???!

KID: Yes, for you…Everyone deserves a gift. Since you’ve spent all your life giving them, I thought you’re the person who really deserves one. (Hands over the box to Santa.) This is not much but I certainly worked hard the whole night striving to please even a quarter of your standard…(Santa opens the gift and finds an origami of sorts.)

SANTA: (Staring at the gift curiously.) Wow.

KID: It’s a mistletoe.

SANTA: I know it’s a mistletoe…(Beat.) Why?

KID: I don’t know. It just felt for me as something I’d want to give you. I see Mom and Dad looking so happy under it… so, I thought maybe you should have one.

SANTA: (On the brink of tears.) You want me…??

KID: …to be happy. Even for just a while… even for just a moment. (Beat.) Surprise…

(Santa doesn’t know how to react. He cries. He then tries to restrain himself and gets the retirement letter from the kid. He crumples the letter and puts it inside his pocket. He smiles at the kid while stroking his head.)

SANTA: …One is enough…

(Santa exits. Fade to Black. The midnight air resonates Santa’s happy ‘Hohohos’ with newfound gusto and fervor.)

CURTAIN

* No part of these plays may be staged without a written permission from the author. For performance rights, permit to play, and inquiries email ktfi2001@yahoo.com or call 386.3278 /text (0917)9726514.