Play Santa, page 2
Beth nodded as she took special note of all his instructions: 'This is for Ali...'
I heard nothing. My mind was in a fog. I listened to Dad walking down the steps. He was easy to hear. The brace he wore on his war-ravaged ankle made a distinctive click as it hit the hardwood stair. As I heard him click-click into the distance, I finally spoke.
'Beth, there's no Santa?' I asked softly, afraid to hear my own words.
'Of course there's no Santa,' Beth said, 'I've known for years. Who do you think helped Mama wrap things all these years. It's too much for her to do herself.'
'You mean, you've known and not told me,' I stammered. This violation of trust was more than I could handle. How could I trust my Irish twin again? Trust Mama?
'Look, Mary, I know it's hard to know the truth, for it's never what we want to believe, but the truth is just that and when you know it, you have a duty to others and to yourself to use it responsibly.' Beth was only a year older than me, but she always talked like an adult.
'You mean, we shouldn't tell Little Alice and the boys?' I asked Beth.
'No. It's okay for them to believe in a fairy tale until they're old enough to know what the truth is. But when the truth becomes known to you--which it did ONLY because Dad needed both of us to help him--then you have to accept it and not back away from it just because it doesn't suit you,' Beth said with finality. I hated the way she stressed ONLY as if I'd never have discovered this on my own. I silently kicked myself for not guessing years before. I always suspected, but I didn't want to even THINK there was no Santa--not then; not now!
'Besides, remember Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, not Santa or toys! Now let's go trim the tree and put the boys to bed before we start.' She was bossy, but in charge, so I nodded and followed her back to the living room.
Later, with every package I wrapped, I thought more and more about what Beth had said. At first, I wished I hadn't learned the truth, for now I could no longer wait at the top of the steps for Santa to come. I must lie in my bed knowing that Mama and Beth were wrapping my dreams in glossy red paper. With every bow I placed on a present, I concealed my disappointment and vowed to be responsible. I especially wanted to make Mama happy. I knew she'd be happy when she knew I helped Beth, helped Dad.
As usual, there were only a couple of presents for each of us--socks or underwear, nuts and fruit for the stockings, and one special present for each of us. In the past, I was never satisfied that I never got as many toys as my friends.
