Free Yuletide Immortal (The Immortal Chronicles Book 4) by Gene Doucette Page B

to say.”
    “Embarrassing is getting outsmarted by a ten-year old.  But you’re not a ten-year old.”
    “I’m twenty-one , okay?  But look at me!  I’m like, a midget or a dwarf or something.”
    “You’re not a dwarf.  A twenty-one year old dwarf would still need to shave.  You ran up to puberty and stopped.  No, you’re something else.”
    “Oh, so you know what I am, do ya?  You think I ain’t heard that before?  The nuns thought they knew what I was too, why do you think I ran off?  They kept throwin’ holy water on me, and worse.  It was messed up.  I mean, I guess I can’t blame ‘em, right?  All the kids my age kept getting taller and looking older and I just stopped for no reason, and there wasn’t no amount of praying to fix that.  And hey, I’d love to ask my parents what the deal is with this, but I can’t do that either, can I? What are you gonna do that’s any different?  I already know you’re a nutso.”
    “I might be.  But I know exactly what to do here.  We’re going to go see Santa.”
    “You’re crazy .  What for?  So we can tell him I’m a freak too?”
    “That’s not why little boys go to see Santa, kid.  They go to ask for something special for Christmas.  You still have time.”
    *   *   *
    My friend was sitting on his throne at the end of his final Christmas shift for the year.  The day was winding down and the line of children waiting to sit on his lap was gone, because everyone understood you had to give Santa at least a little time to get in his sleigh and start delivering toys or nobody was going to have a proper holiday.
    The store itself was still very busy, because last minute shopping has been a thing as long as there have been stores that stayed open through Christmas Eve.  But the corner on the top floor where Santa sat was dim and empty, and he looked a little sad sitting up there alone.
    He perked up when he saw me, though.  It was nice how happy it made him, but I think I would have preferred it if he was angry.
    “Stanley!  My goodness, where have you been?”  He climbed off his chair gave me a hug.  “I couldn’t imagine what had happened!”
    “Sorry,” I said.  “I have a lot to explain.”
    “You do!  I’m sure it’s quite a story!”
    “It is, Santa.”  I turned him around and pointed him back to his chair.  “It’s a heck of a story, but I only know part of it.  You’re going to have to fill me in on the rest.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I know.  But you promised me a good story, so before I tell you mine I want you to tell me yours.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You never told me about your son.”
    I saw that same dark cloud pass over his face as before, memorable for the fact that one doesn’t see that sort of expression on someone like him.
    “But that’s not a happy story.  Christmas should only be about happy stories.  March!  March is a good time for a sad story.  I’ll tell you then.”
    “I’d like to hear it now, if that’s okay.  Let me decide if it’s happy or not.”
    He sighed.  “All right.  What do you know about us?”
    “About imps?  Not as much as I could, and I can never tell when one of you is prevaricating, so it’s hard to ask.”
    “Excellent choice of words, yes!  Prevarication is in our nature, isn’t it?  Well, here is something true about my kind.  As it happens, we are not exceptionally good at reproduction, which is a blessing, really, given our lifespans.  I daresay we’d overrun the planet otherwise.  But no, there is a very specific time in our lives in which we—the men, I mean—are able to… I’m sorry, I am very uncomfortable talking about this particular thing in this particular chair.”
    “It’s all right, I get the basics.  So it was your time, and you met a girl.”
    “I met a girl!  Precisely!  She was a beautiful young thing, and she loved me, and I loved her, and it was all nearly perfect, except for one thing.  She