"Robert F. Young - Santa Claus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Young Robert F)

Saint Nick and Old Nick would seem to be an odd combinationтАФbut a man
who wants there to be a Santa Claus just for him has clearly got to have unusual
help in achieving his ends. Alternatively, of course, he might settle for less
succulent ends....


SANTA CLAUSE
by Robert F. Young
тАЬSTATE YOUR BUSINESS," THE Adversary said, when the smoke had cleared away. "I haven't
got all night!"
Ross swallowed. He hadn't really thought the pentagram would work. He debated on whether to
stand up in the Inimical Presence, or to go on sitting behind his desk. He decided on the latter procedure:
the Adversary, he was sure, wouldn't be in the least impressed by protocol.
"Well?"
Ross swallowed again. "I тАФ I want there to be a Santa Claus."
"I see.... For everyone, or just for yourself?"
"Just for myself, naturally," Ross said. "I wouldn't stand to gain a thing if everyone cashed in on the
deal. Why, there'd be inflation as sure as Ford made green Edsels."
"You've got a point there." The Adversary scratched the back of his neck reflectively with the tip of
his tail. "And I must say, your request is original. No one ever thought about that angle before. ... There
are considerations, of course."
"I expected there would be,тАЭ Ross said.
"Don't be in such a hurry to show off your cynicism. By 'considerations' I mean that I can't subdivide
childhood fantasy. If you want there to be a Santa Claus, you'll have to take everything that goes with
himтАФand live by the rules."
An octet of reindeer pulling a red sleigh pranced through Ross's head. Imagination wasn't one of his
strong points. "Sounds all right to me," he said.
"Fine!" The Adversary pulled a mimeographed contract from beneath his robe, punctured a vein in
his wrist, and filled in the pertinent blank spaces. He handed it to Ross. "You'll find the terms generous, I
think."
"I doubt it," Ross said, running his eyes down the page, paying particular attention to the fine print.
Abruptly he gasped. "What's this here? For life?"
"That's right. I'm waiving the time limit in this case. Better sign before I change my mind."
Ross took the pen, punctured one of his own wrist veins, and dashed off his name. "But why?" he
asked.
The Adversary leered. "You'll find out," he said. There was the usual puff of smoke, the usual odor of
brimstone, followed by the usual empty space....

Ross had fun writing his letter to Santa Claus that year. He came right to the point. Dear Santa, he
wrote: Please send me a 1959 Cadillac de Ville, a beautiful 40-24-40 Mansfield, 52 cases of top
shelf liquor, 365 cases of Schlitz, a year's subscription to WhisperтАФ
The list was quite imposing, and be didn't really think he'd get all he'd asked for; but even if he only
got the first three items, he felt that his afterlife would have been invested profitably.
Santa, however, came through with everything. On Christmas morn, Ross found himself the
possessor ofтАФin addition to the afore-mentioned items тАФ a completely stocked deepfreeze; a solid
chrome refrigerator; 3 gin mills; a Buick-red living room suite; a terra cotta bedroom suite; the complete
works of the Marquis de Sade; a 24" blond TV console; a Sputnik wall clock with a little dog that
popped out every hour and barked what time it was; an electric organ, together with a book entitled, You
 Too Can Play The OrganтАФIn Six Easy Lessons!; a chrome bathroom ensemble; a uranium mine; a
large economy-size Laurence Welk record album; 365 Brooks Brothers shirts; a woodworker's