Santa Buddha

Santa Buddha                           
Short Fiction by Hugh Tayler 2022 December ver02a
 
I was picking up spilled Lego around the Free Table when someone famous and her two daughters walked up to the table.  She's one of those people who always says hi or makes a thoughtful remark that gets others talking. She seems instantly familiar, so I think she's famous, but I'm not sure for what.  

The girls found a banana box under the table and dragged it out to look at what was in it. I said, "Yeah, there must 15 dolls in that box but someone took their feet off. It's creepy but I haven't had time to reinstall them."

One of the girls said, "We'll do it!"  And their mum said, "But you can only take one doll each. We have so many toys already."

I said, "So you don't need more Christmas stuff?" I pointed to a small stack of random decorations with a wooden Santa meditating in the lotus position, as if he were Buddha.
 
"Nothing," she said. "We are like everyone else: we have so much stuff. Too much stuff.  But we have the Santa Thing all figured out."

The older of the two girls looked up at us, with a doll in each hand. "Can we take some of these dolls to play Santa with? To surprise other kids with free toys?"

Their mum said, "Sure. Here's a smaller box to put the dolls in. Only clean ones, though. And with their feet back on. It's not a real gift if you are just giving someone your leftover garbage."

I said, "The Santa Thing? Did you read that book? The one by that woman who shows you how to explain Santa to your kids. But she's really explaining Santa Claus to adults still stuck in 'I need more presents-under-the-tree' mode."

She said, "That's the book. There are several Santa books, but the three best ones say the same thing."

I felt the urge to summarize the book, but held back a little . "I wonder if we read the same book. The one I read had three messages."

She said, "Yes. Three. First, Santa Claus is a story that people tell. Second, Santa Claus is a game that people play. Third, you can play Santa Claus, too."

I said, "That's the one. Santa is a story and a game that you can play. I wish I had heard that when our kids were little. Or when I was little."

She said, "Yes. I was lucky. I read the book when I was pregnant so I was ready for the first Santa questions. But the questions didn't really happen because I didn't bother telling elaborate lies about Christmas. And I never wait for Christmas to play Santa. The girls grew up thinking that Santa is someone who gives away extra zucchinis to neighbours or puts clothes that don't fit on the Free Bench in the lobby of Grandma's condo building."

One of the girl's looked up and pointed to her yellow Picachu T-shirt. "Grandma got me this from some Santa where she lives. Are you a Santa?"

I confessed, "Not a very good one. But I help other people play Santa. That's why I'm out picking up Lego."

The girl had turned back to sorting dolls. Her mother picked up the Buddha Santa. "Maybe you need this guy to remind you how to be a better Santa."

I said, "Probably not. I would always wonder what the artist had in mind. Buddha or Santa?"

She said, "Does it matter? They are both lost in history, and only their teachings survive. They are a little different: one working to end suffering, and the other one working to bring more joy. Or are those the same thing?"

I was about to launch into a philosophical discussion when I realized that the girls were standing waiting with a box half full of dolls. The smaller of the two said, "Ho ho ho, let's go."

"Right, " I said,  "I should finish picking up the Lego."

The woman turned to her daughters and said, "And we need to make lunch."  She turned back to me, "See you."

And they walked up the road, the smallest one bouncing the box of plastic dolls up and down and saying,
"Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho. Ho ho ho. ...."

*******

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