Part 2 (1/2)
”That doesn't necessarily follow,” Fred said. ”I'll come over as soon as my meeting's over, and meanwhile I'll check the Net. Okay?”
”Okay,” she said. She started out of the cubicle and then stopped. ”I really appreciate your believing me, or at least not saying you don't believe me.”
He smiled at her. ”I don't have any choice. You're the only other person in the world who likes Miracle on 34th Street better than It's a Wonderful Life. And Fred Gailey believed Macy's Santa Claus was really Santa Claus, didn't he?”
”Yeah,” she said. ”I don't think this guy is Santa Claus. He was wearing Birkenstocks.”
”I'll meet you at your front door,” he said. He sat down at the computer and began typing.
Lauren went out through the maze of cubicles and into the hall.
”There you are!” Scott said. ”I've been looking for you all over.” He smiled meltingly. ”I'm in charge of buying gifts for the office party, and I need your help.”
”My help?”
”Yeah. Picking them out. I hoped maybe I could talk you into going shopping with me after work tonight.”
”Tonight?” she said. ”I can't. I've got-”A Christmas tree growing in my kitchen. ”Could we do it tomorrow after work?”
He shook his head. ”I've got a date. What about later on tonight? The stores are open till nine. It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours to do the shopping, and then we could go have a late supper somewhere. What say I pick you up at your apartment at six-thirty?”
And have the spirit lying on the couch, drinking Evian water and watching TV? ”I can't,” she said regretfully.
Even his frown was cute. ”Oh, well,” he said, and shrugged. ”Too bad. I guess I'll have to get somebody else.” He gave her another adorable smile and went off down the hall to ask somebody else.I hate you, Spirit of Christmas Present, Lauren thought, standing there watching Scott's handsome back recede. You'd better not be there when I get home.
A woman came down the hall, carrying a basket of candy canes. ”Compliments of the Personnel Morale Special Committee,” she said, offering one to Lauren. ”You look like you could use a little Christmas spirit.”
”No, thanks, I've already got one,” Lauren said.
The door to her apartment was locked, which didn't mean much, since the chain and the deadbolt had both been on when he got in before. But he wasn't in the living room, and the TV was off.
He had been there, though. There was an empty Evian water bottle on the coffee table.
She picked it up and took it into the kitchen. The tree was still there, too. She pushed one of the branches aside so she could get to the wastebasket and threw the bottle away.
”Don't you know plastic bottles are nonbiodegradable?” the spirit said. He was standing on the other side of the tree, hanging things on it. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a ”Save the Rain Forest” T-s.h.i.+rt, and had a red bandanna tied around his head. ”You should recycle your bottles.”
”It's your bottle,” Lauren said. ”What are you doing here, Spirit?”
”Chris,” he corrected her. ”These are organic ornaments,” he said. He held one of the brown things out to her. ”Handmade by the Yanomamo Indians.
Each one is made of natural by-products found in the Brazilian rain forest.” He hung the brown thing on the tree. ”Have you decided what you want for Christmas?”
”Yes,” she said. ”I want you to go away.”
He looked surprised. ”I can't do that. Not until I give you your heart's desire.”
”That is my heart's desire. I want you to go away and take this tree and your Yanomamo ornaments with you.”
”You know the biggest problem I have as the Spirit of Christmas Present?” he said. He reached into the back pocket of his shorts and pulled out a brown garland of what looked like coffee beans. ”My biggest problem is that people don't know what they want.”
”I know what I want,” Lauren said. ”I don't want to have to write my Christmas cards all over again-”
”You didn't write them,” he said, draping the garland over the branches. ”They were printed. Do you know that the inks used on those cards contain harmful chemicals?”
”I don't want to be lectured on environmental issues, I don't want to have to fight my way through a forest to get to the refrigerator, and I don't want to have to turn down dates because I have a spirit in my apartment. I want a nice, quiet Christmas with no ha.s.sles. I want to exchange a few presents with my friends and go to the office Christmas party and . . .”And dazzle Scott Buckley in my off-the-shoulder black dress, she thought, but she decided she'd better not say that. The spirit might decide Scott's clothes weren't made of natural fibers or something and turn him into a Yanomamo Indian.
”. . . and have a nice, quiet Christmas,” she finished lamely.
”Take It's a Wonderful Life,” the spirit said, squinting at the tree. ”I watched it this afternoon while you were at work. Jimmy Stewart didn't know what he wanted.”
He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a crooked star made of Brazil nuts and twine. ”He thought he wanted to go to college and travel and get rich, but what he really wanted was right there in front of him the whole time.”
He did something, and the top of the tree lopped over in front of him. He tied the star on with the twine, and did something else. The tree straightened up. ”You only think you wantme to leave,” he said.
Someone knocked on the door.
”You're right,” Lauren said. ”I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay right there.” She ran into the living room.
The spirit followed her into the living room. ”Luckily, being a spirit, I know what you really want,” he said, and disappeared.
She opened the door to Fred. ”He was just here,” she said. ”He disappeared when I opened the door, which is what all the crazies say, isn't it?”
”Yeah,” Fred said. ”Or else, 'He's right there. Can't you see him?'” He looked curiously around the room. ”Where was he?”
”In the kitchen,” she said, shutting the door. ”Decorating a tree which probably isn't there either.” She led him into the kitchen.
The tree was still there, and there were large brownish cards stuck all over it.
”You really do have a tree growing in your kitchen,” Fred said, squatting down to look at the roots. ”I wonder if the people downstairs have roots sticking out of their ceiling.” He stood up. ”What are these?” he said, pointing at the brownish cards.
”Christmas cards.” She pulled one off. ”I told him I wanted mine back.” She read the card aloud.” 'In the time it takes you to read this Christmas card, eighty-two harp seals will have been clubbed to death for their fur.'” She opened it up.” 'Happy Holidays.'”
”Cheery,” Fred said. He took the card from her and turned it over. ” 'This card is printed on recycled paper with vegetable inks and can be safely used as compost.' ”
”Did anyone on the Net know how to club a spirit to death?” she asked.
”No. Didn't your sister have any ideas?”
”She didn't know how she got him in the first place. She and her Maharis.h.i.+ were channeling an Egyptian n.o.bleman and he suddenly appeared, wearing a 'Save the Dolphins' T-s.h.i.+rt. I got the idea the Maharis.h.i.+ was as surprised as she was.” She sat down at the kitchen table. ”I tried to get him to go away this afternoon, but he said he has to give me my heart's desire first.”
She looked up at Fred, who was cautiously sniffing one of the organic ornaments. ”Didn't you find out anything on the Net?”
”I found out there are a lot of loonies with computers. What are these?”
”By-products of the Brazilian rain forest.” She stood up. ”I told him my heart's desire was for him to leave, and he said I didn't know what I really wanted.”
”Which is what?”
”I don't know,” she said. ”I went into the living room to answer the door, and he said that luckily he knew what I wanted because he was a spirit, and I told him to stay right where he was, and he disappeared.”