Vietnamnews, 12/2010

 
by Di Li

"Sorry, we're fully booked as of yesterday. You should have placed your order much earlier. We'll be happy to serve you next Christmas; you should call at least one week in advance," said the public relations officer. His tone was polite and sympathetic.

The receiver in Quyen's hand seemed heavier than usual. It was her thirty-first call, which was also the last possibility on the Gift Services page of the telephone directory.

In recent years, demands for Santa Claus services had been on such a remarkable rise that the number of actors in the city who could play the role could not meet demand. A few days before the cold monsoon wind started to bring its drizzle in place of the hot, dry autumn sunshine, Fathers Christmas dressed in red could be seen riding to and fro in the crowded streets. However, busy with her year-end book-keeping, she totally forgot to place an order for the service in advance.

***

It was 3 o'clock sharp in the afternoon but her company was already deserted. Her German boss, although very busy, was compelled to let his employees return home far earlier than usual. He had also left his 12th floor office after a quick meeting in the morning for Frankfurt on an early flight, executive class of course, to join his family's Christmas party in a suburban villa before the family home's grandfather clock struck nine.

Quyen turned off her PC and locked the door. Usually, the corridor was deserted at this time of day, but today it was crowded because most of the enterprises in this high-rise let their employees go home early in order to spend Christmas Eve at home. In the lift, people told merry Christmas stories. She was standing in a far corner of the lift holding a carton of gifts high over her head to keep it from being squished in the overloaded space.

A cold draught rushed between two buildings, piercing through her thin jacket and causing her to tremble a little. "It will take me at least an hour to inch through bumper to bumper traffic to pick up my daughter Chi from school," she said to herself.

Little Chi wore a yellow jacket like her mother. They usually wore the same colour every day; one large blouse matched a small one like two copies in a magazine. Chi climbed to her seat behind Mum on the motorbike and started to talk about a favourite subject that Quyen had heard many times before.

"What time will Father Christmas come to us, Mum?" asked the little girl.

"After you've gone to bed, as usual, my beloved daughter."

"Last night, I wrote a wish list and put it in a stocking, but I couldn't find it anywhere this morning. Surely, he collected it when I wasn't looking, Mum."

"You're right. He often appears during the night to pick up wish lists."

"Every year, I always stay awake to wait for him to see what he will do to my stockings, but he never turns up."

"On the contrary, he only comes when you're asleep. You already know that, don't you?"

Leaning her body to the side, she pulled her daughter's hands toward her. The little girl has just begun learning how to write, so they were stained with ink. Twenty years before, Quyen had also had ink-stained hands after school, but there were no mother's hands to caress them. On the way home, Chi continued with her questions, one after another, until the motorbike was parked in the basement. When the lift carried them up to their floor, she opened the door of her cold flat and began preparing dinner.

She made a beef soup with orange juice, butter and potatoes. Dessert was strawberries soaked in sugar water and some slices of cheese. The little girl rushed through her meal then asked her Mum repeatedly:

"What if Father Christmas forgets me?"

"No, never! Has he ever forgotten you before?" she answered and tried not to stare into Chi's eyes.

"But he has to bring gifts to countless children!"

"Surely, he never forgets anything," she told her little daughter gently.

But Chi was too worried to finish her meal.

Quyen did not know where her six-year-old's worry stemmed from. She did not know when the child had begun showing the careful nature of an adult. Every day before going to school, Chi earnestly said:

"Mum, don't forget to pick me up at school."

"How could I forget something so important, my dear?" She smiled broadly when she said goodbye to the child in a choked voice. Clearly the kid was afraid of being alone.

Quyen once arrived at the school late after a long meeting and a terrible drive through nasty weather. The corridor stretching in front of the class rooms were pitch-dark and the school ground was windy; some unlocked windows struck against each other violently. To keep the children occupied during their wait, the school administration had turned on a cartoon in the waiting-room. When Quyen stopped her motorbike in front of the school, she was faced with an immobile figure sitting on a bench on the verandah.

"Oh, my poor little daughter! Why are you sitting here in the dark instead of watching the film?" Quyen asked her, eyes brimming with tears.

A teacher opened the door.

"I tried to get her to come in to watch the film but she refused because she was afraid she would miss you," the young woman said to Quyen.

On another occasion, Quyen got up early to prepare a quick breakfast while her daughter was still sleeping soundly. She ran downstairs to the little 24/7 supermarket on the ground floor to get some spices. When she returned to her flat about ten minutes later, she found her daughter in a night-gown sitting motionless in the dark.

"Mum, I didn't think you were coming back," Chi told her, eyes soaked with tears.

"Oh, my poor little thing!" Quyen whispered to herself. The fear that she would be left abandoned haunted her so strongly that even in her sleep, Chi usually held her mother's hands tightly.

That morning her breakfast tasted bitter in her mouth when the child brought up the subject of Father Christmas again.

***

When Chi was three years old, Quyen decided to act as Santa Claus, because she thought it would be a simple game. She bought a white beard and red clothes, a red hat, a black belt, a pair of black boots and a large red cloth bag with a built-in string. Because the jacket was both big and heavy, she had to put on two cotton jackets and a wool cardigan before putting it on.

She rang the door bell and put down the weighty bag full of gifts. Chi opened the door and rushed towards Father Christmas so quickly that she tumbled on the floor.

"Oh dear, my poor daughter," Santa cried in a female voice and lifted the child up.

Chi looked at Father Christmas suspiciously.

"You're my mother, aren't you?"

"Not a chance, I'm Father Christmas from Lapland, a snowy region of Finland," said the disguised Santa Claus. "I got here on a cart pulled by reindeer," he added.

Chi observed Santa Claus attentively with the seemingly-wise eyes of a girl in her late teens rather than those of a 3-year-old kid. At last, she picked up the parcel of gifts as if she wanted to open everything immediately. Father Christmas heaved a sigh, waved goodbye to the little girl and promised to come back the next Christmas season with a lot more gifts.

"I must be going now to hand out Christmas presents to other nice children. Good night," he said and swiftly turned away so that Chi could not see his teary eyes.

When Chi was four years old, Quyen tried to avoid the previous year's mistake and asked her father to play the role of Father Christmas. He did a good job thanks to his imposing stature, grey beard and resounding peals of laughter. He spoke Russian at first then translated his words into Vietnamese perfectly. When he saw that Chi was a ‘nice' girl, he gave her some Christmas gifts. He finally kissed her farewell and promised to come back the next yuletide. Quyen followed him to the doorway, helped him untie his belongings then quickly put them all into her big bag to return to Chi in haste.

"Thank you, Dad," she whispered to her old father.

"I wish both of you a Merry Christmas," said the old man, dragging his daughter closer to him then swept his hands over her hair as if she were a child.

The next winter, Quyen's father was unable to take on the role again because he had been ill. His emaciated body was bedridden.

"There are only two of you. You'll have to do your best and remember to give Chi Christmas gifts," he said as he closed his eyes forever.

After losing her grandfather, Chi felt all the more lonely that year and was convinced that she could be left alone at any time. If that happened, she would have to live alone in the 12th floor flat, cook meals for herself, go to school and sleep alone. That scary prospect frightened her so much she became ill.

Quyen used a service to hire a Father Christmas for her daughter. These Santa's were typically played by students who wanted to earn money to cover their school fees. Most were tall and thin. Their red Christmas clothes were crumbled after being overused in many previous events and their recent removal from storage. Indifferent, they wore dusty black boots or stained Adidas trainers and second-hand quartz watches on their wrists. They rode bikes along the streets and frequently glanced at their timepieces. With a big, red bag made of coarse material which contained customer gifts, they were hired to go to twenty addresses within a certain amount of time, one after another. This year, little Chi's place was one of them. When he arrived at Quyen's place, his clothes and beard were a complete mess. After ransacking his bag for a long while, he found Chi's gift.

"Here's something special for you, my pretty little girl," he said to Chi.

At that very moment, his mobile phone rang the tune called Oh, My Love. He listened to it then answered quickly, "I'll finish the last five deliveries very soon. Everything should be done before half past nine. Try to wait for me, my dear."

"Study hard at school," he told Chi.

"So what did you bring me?" asked the kid.

"That's a secret. You'll find out when you open it."

"Do you know my wish?" Chi asked Father Christmas again.

"A doll, surely."

"No, you're wrong! I've never wanted a doll. You aren't Santa Claus at all, because he must know the gift I dreamed of," Chi said before flying into a rage.

That year, Chi seemed unhappy. For a long while, she did not touch the gift. She just tossed it on the bed like a curmudgeonly old woman. She stared at the cupboard that held a lot of Christmas presents. Outside, it was pitch-dark.

"I must be more careful this time," Quyen said to herself. "I'll have to remind Santa of what he should say before he enters the house. How could a make believe Father Christmas answer Chi's questions easily and exactly?" she thought.

Unfortunately for Quyen, she could not find anyone to play Father Christmas this year, no matter how crumbled his clothes and hat were.

Quyen didn't quite understand why Father Christmas was so important to children. Similar to Chi, the other neighborhood kids were eager for his appearance at Christmas. Staring into her daughter's eyes, she recognized one particular feature: her great sacred belief. Suddenly, she remembered one thinker's saying, "The reason why life is so dear is that it is a sealed book to us. The more experiences we have and the more unexpected life is, the more weird the secret becomes. Discovery of mystery is interesting. However, it might also render us both painful and insensitive. When all secrets are totally lost, mankind will breathe its last." As for Little Chi, life was now a vivid forest full of mysteries. Twenty years before, Quyen had no idea about Father Christmas! She only believed that it was Dad who brought her all of life's joys. Many times she had tried to conjure up how Father Christmas might have looked, but her naive imagination made it a futile effort.

The clock struck nine. Little Chi sat on a large sofa with plastic toys scattered all around her. She repeatedly glanced at the door. Meanwhile, Quyen gave continuous stealthy glances at the settee. "It's so surprising that a six year old child still believes in Santa Claus!" she lamented. Paradoxically, she wanted both to maintain this mysterious belief for as long as possible and to end it as soon as possible. She thought about calling her ex-husband again, yet she was afraid that, for the fourth time, she would be refused point-blank and get hurt once more.

"I'm sorry for both you and our little daughter! But right now I'm in A Nan on business. Please remind the kid about me and tell her that when I return, I'll have lots of Christmas gifts for her," he said on her first call.

"Sorry, I'm very busy at my boss' place. I can't get out of here. I'll visit her later."

"I apologize to you both! Yesterday, I promised to take our little daughter to school to join in the Christmas Eve festivities, but I'm afraid that I don't have enough time. Sorry! Tell Chi that I'll drop by early tomorrow morning to give her some presents. By the way, ask the guard at your office to play Santa Claus. If someone is wearing Father Christmas' red clothes, she won't be able to tell a real Santa from a false one," was his reply three years ago, the last time Quyen had bothered to call him.

She put a photo of two year-old Chi taken with Father Christmas at the bottom of the cupboard because she did not want her daughter to interrogate her over and over again about it. She would actually be afraid to answer her little one.

The clock struck nine. Little Chi swept her toys aside. Sitting upright on the sofa, she looked attentively at the door and listened eagerly. Quyen was in despair.

***

Outside, a young man was driving in circles looking for a parking place.

It was a cold Christmas Eve and the streets were empty. Everybody was tucked in and warm at home. Vacant cars were parked like sardines. It had been drizzling for hours.

"Just great!" he clenched his teeth. "If only there was even a little snow, it would be so much more wonderful. It's the rain, cold and darkness that have led me astray. It will probably be another fifty years before we see such terrible weather again," he added.

Suddenly, from the dark, a strange woman turned up in front of him.

"Excuse me," she said hesitantly.

"Yes ma'am!"

"Do you have a few minutes, Sir?" she said hopefully. "Actually, there's nobody else left for me to ask," she went on.

"Well…"

"My little daughter has been waiting for Father Christmas to come. Could you lend me a hand?"

He immediately understood what she was asking. He smiled. Thee woman wanted him to play Santa Claus and bring gifts to her daughter.

"Sorry! I'm very busy and hungry too. All of my employees are waiting for me to return for a meeting. Anyhow, I couldn't play such a role, for I've never done so before. You'd better look for someone else," he refused resolutely.

"It'll only take you five minutes, Sir. My daughter has been waiting for him all month," she insisted.

She had no idea that five minutes meant a lot to him. As a man of principle, he hated anything unplanned. His father used to tell him that spontaneity was tantamount to defeat. It was likely that in those five minutes, his partner on the 5th floor would let everyone leave the meeting to go enjoy some time at a special, secret karaoke bar in the city. All of his plans would end in smoke thanks to Quyen's whimsical proposal.

"Honestly, I know that my proposal is a bit inappropriate, but…," she went on. He stared at her. Her wavy hair blew behind her and tangled in the wind. One of her hands was holding a suit of red clothes and a pink parcel decorated with a pretty ribbon was in her other hand. Clearly, there was nobody else around and he was her only choice on this desolate night. Glancing at the block of flats nearby, he saw that all of their doors and windows were closed in silence. In the twinkle of an eye, he nodded his consent.

"OK. Please give me the clothes. To be honest, I'm not sure if I'll act well or badly," he told her.

"I don't know how I can thank you."

"Not at all. So, how old is she?"

"Six. In this package there is a jigsaw puzzle and a Lego set, her favourites this year."

When Quyen led him to her place, she asked him to stand outside for a few minutes to give her a chance to get inside. Chi was in a mood of despair.

"Well, Father Christmas has forgotten me, hasn't he, Mum. I've already realised my bad luck," she said bitterly. She bowed her head and stared at her toes while rubbing her feet on the carpet.

Suddenly, the bell rang. Quyen opened the door to Father Christmas. He quickly glanced all over the lounge and the small kitchen in the dim yellow light. A small Christmas tree with a brilliant ribbon stood in the corner. The furniture was all painted white and decorated with fine ornaments. Some were embellished with silk and lace. The table cloth was embroidered in a sophisticated pattern. Several white chrysanthemums were displayed in a blue vase. A soft little sofa stood in a corner of the flat. On the whole, the room had a very feminine quality. On the table, bookcase and built-in wardrobe, many tiny photos with two similar faces- brilliant eyes, wavy hair and bright smiles- were neatly placed. They were the same faces he saw staring at him from the sofa now.

"Hello! I'm Santa Claus coming from the North Pole. Sorry I'm late. My reindeer were slow because of the cold weather. I'm really sorry for being so tardy."

"What is the snowy land like, Father Christmas, may I ask?"

"It's fully covered with snow during winter. I have a toy workshop in an ice castle where I make things for little children all year round."

"Can you guess what I wish for this Christmas season?"

"Oh dear, let me think for a minute, will you? A Lego set and a jigsaw puzzle. Is that right?"

"Yes, sort of. But can you be more specific? Because this year, I have two wishes but Mum told me I can only ask Father Christmas for one, so I keep the other one secret."

Quyen was worried because she did not know what else was on her daughter's wish list. She glanced at Father Christmas. "Will this be my second bad day, after my father's death?" she asked herself. "If so, she'll never believe in Santa again. Once a child loses his or her belief, it is a real disaster, much more terrible than my own disbelief," she went on.

"Oh, well, let me think for a few seconds," he said, then wrinkled his eyebrows a bit.

"You wish to have an icy house with a roof made of biscuits, windows of strawberry candies, a fir tree in front and a sled in the courtyard. Is that right?"

"Oh dear, quite right, Sir," exclaimed the child in high spirits. "You really are Father Christmas. Thank you so much."

"I must be going now. My journey home to the land of ice is still a long way away. I'll come back to you next year. Good night!"

"Just a minute, Sir, will you?"

"This is my mother's phone number. Please let us know when you arrive home safely," said the little girl, as she handed him a piece of paper.

He was truly amazed at her care and concern. He took the paper, waved his hand and said "Merry Christmas!"

A few seconds later, Quyen went out to thank him. After putting Christmas things into the big bag, she asked him in an amazed voice.

"How did you guess my daughter's wish?" she said.

"Very simple. I saw a catalogue of jigsaw puzzles in front of her. When she was talking to me, she quickly glanced at the open booklet. So I described the picture in the open page. That's all. What an intelligent girl!" he told Quyen.

"Oh my God! I don't know that," she murmured.

"I have a business mind, you see. In my career, I find the truth by weighing all the logical aspects of a problem."

***

It was nightfall of New Year's Day!

A young man was surrounded by IT books in his grey bedroom. He was engrossed in his computer programing. He didn't seem to have a care for the world outside, where everybody was at home to welcome the solemn moment of the year. As he sat there, he suddenly remembered a call he had promised to make. At once he picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello! Chi speaking," said a childlike voice from the other end of the line.

"Good morning, I'm Father Christmas. We met several days ago. I've made it back home to the snowy country safe and sound."

"Oh dear Father Christmas!" exclaimed the little girl after a few seconds of silence. "Good evening! What kind of toys are you making?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm working on a new toy. It's a new type of jigsaw puzzle for kids. By the way, do you know how to use a PC?"

"Yes, I do, Sir. Actually, I learned how to use one a long time ago. Will you come back to us next Christmas?"

"Of course, I will. I'll keep some more reindeer in my garden so that next year, we can move faster."

"Mum. It's Santa Claus on the phone. Listen, Mum!"

"Hello! Quyen speaking," said a hesitant voice.

"Hi Quyen! I'm… Father Christmas."

A moment of silence!

"My daughter has frequently talked about Father Christmas," Quyen replied after a few minutes of bewildered silence. She had taken some time to search for the right words to keep the mystery of Christmas alive for her daughter. "I'm so thankful for all you've done, Father Christmas," she went on.

"I'm calling to wish you both happiness and good health for a Happy New Year!"

"I also wish you good luck and health for a warm year in the North Pole," Quyen said.

The young man smiled broadly on the other end of the line. In fact, an optimistic smile bloomed on the other end of the line, as well.

Translated by Van Minh