“Well, hello there, Corey,” a jolly voice cried out, causing Corey to look up and meet two sparkling blue eyes. “How are you this fine day, my boy?”
“Sir, it’s nice to see you,” Corey replied, offering his hand, unsure as to whether or not St. Nicholas had heard his mutterings. “I’m doing well, thank you. And yourself?”
“Couldn’t be better,” he chuckled as he released Corey’s hand, thin and small in comparison to his own. “I’m very excited to hear that you were able to procure a replacement for the recently deceased Mrs. Meriwether. She served me well for over two hundred years, God rest her sweet soul.”
“Yes, sir, we were all very sad to see her go,” Corey replied, a distraught look plastered on his face, his voice ringing with lamentation.
St. Nicholas shook his head slowly from side to side, his great white beard rippling as he did so. After a moment, he regained his composure and asked, “When will Ms. Fizzlestitch be arriving?”
“Shortly,” Corey assured the elf in charge. “I’m on my way to collect her in just a bit, right after I pay a quick visit to an old friend.”
“Delightful,” St. Nicholas replied, chuckling in such a way that caused his belly to shake up and down as he did so. “I should like to meet her straightaway. Bring her by post haste, won’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” Corey agreed, not quite sure how he would manage to do so. “I’m sure she’s looking forward to meeting you.”
St. Nicholas nodded in reply, a twinkle in his eyes. “Her story is such a melancholy one. I do hope that being up here amongst us, where she can truly make a difference, will bring her some… closure at last.”
Corey gave some careful thought to the statement, something he had not really considered until now. Serendipity did have such a troubled past. Perhaps he actually was doing her a favor by bringing her here. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he replied with the first statement that came to mind. “Do you think, once she arrives, you will be able to help her learn to read?”
St. Nicholas’s eyebrows raised in curiosity for a moment before he answered. “You know, Corey, sometimes our biggest weaknesses are tied to our largest strengths. I could potentially use my magic to change Serendipity, to make her able to read, but at what cost? I could alter the very fiber of her being--turn her into someone else. And that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. No, if Serendipity learns to read, it will be through some other means, not through magic, not mine anyway.”
Corey was clearly confused. He had no idea what St. Nicholas was referring to. How could improving a person’s ignorance take away from who they were or where their talents lie? Still, he was not about to argue with Santa Claus, so he nodded, giving the sage a winning smile. “Well,” he replied, “I’ll be on my way then. Have a lovely afternoon, sir.”
“You, too,” St. Nicholas replied, patting Corey gently on the shoulder of his velvet red suit. “You, too.” As Corey turned to walk away, St. Nicholas called after him, “Oh, and Corey, remember what I said about forcing people to change. We have no idea what harm might befall those whose fortunes we intermingle with our own will.”
Corey turned and nodded his understanding before turning and walking briskly toward the nearby exit. He gave little thought to Santa’s parting words as he hustled out the door on his way to see an old friend.
“Was that Corey?” Mrs. Claus asked as she joined St. Nicholas in the hall just outside of the mail room. She was fresh from a meeting with the wrapping paper elves and she had been studying several tiny paper cuts on her fingers, catching only the sight of his red coattails as they disappeared out the door.
“Yes, it was,” St. Nicholas replied, scratching his chin through his thick beard.
“And?” she asked, a knowing lilt in her voice.
“And, I am hopeful that he will do the right thing,” St. Nicholas replied.
Mrs. Clause crossed her arms across her chest, atop her stout stomach. “Well, I hope so, too, but there’s really not a lot of likelihood for that at this point, is there? He’ll bring that poor girl all the way up here and then she’ll never be able to leave.”
“Now, Anywyn, I’m sure whatever magic Corey has up his sleeve, I’ll find a way to overcome it, if need be. But, perhaps, Ms. Fizzlestitch will decide she wants to stay. You never know…”
“I do hope so,” Mrs. Claus replied. “I think she would be ever so happy here. However, I hate to see anyone dragged away from home against her will.”
“I know, I know,” St. Nicholas responded, placing his arm around her shoulders. “He did raise a good question though. Do you think you can teach her to read?”
Mrs. Claus hesitated, looking up into her loving husband’s eyes. “I’m not sure, Nick,” she finally stated with a sigh. “As a schoolteacher, I taught hundreds of children how to read, some with pretty severe reading disabilities, but this condition that Serendipity has, well, I have never seen anything like it. All of those hours of practice… with her father and Maevis, and still she struggles so…. I’m not sure. But I will try.”
“And that’s all we can do,” St. Nicholas replied, kissing his wife lovingly on the head.
“And what of Corey?” she asked, pointing at the direction in which he had disappeared with her forehead.
“That young man will have to realize that the sole purpose of our organization is to help others,” St. Nicholas answered, squeezing her shoulder as he followed her gaze.
“And if he doesn’t?”
There was a considerable pause before her husband replied, “I’m not sure…. I’d hate to lose his services. He’s extremely good at what he does, but if the price is trickery and unhappy souls, I shall be forced to find our young friend a different position altogether.”