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

do-it-yourself kit; a south sea island; a deluxe edition of the current best-seller, What's in it for Me?; 6
gross of Miltowns; an electric train; a Sputnik cigarette lighter that went beep beep! when you flicked it;
a chalet in the Swiss Alps; and a solid gold bottle opener.
The Cadillac did wonders for his ego. For the first time in his life, he felt like a whole man. As for the
Mansfield, whose name was Candace, he took one look at her and proposed, she was that irresistible.
She said yes, of courseтАФhe'd specified in a P.S. that she should fall in love with him at first sightтАФand
that very afternoon they were married by an out-of-state justice of the peace.
Back in the apartment, Ross took his Christmas present in his arms. This, he thought, kissing her, was
worth all the empty Christmas stockings he'd ever gotten up to. And it was only the first Santa Claus
Christmas. The thought of all the things he could ask for on the forthcoming ones made his head swim,
and he made a mental note to start work on his next list early, so that he'd be less liable to forget
anything.
Presently Candy drew away. "Good night, darling," she said.
"I'll 'good night' you!" Ross said, grabbing her and kissing her again.
She responded as a good blonde shouldтАФup to a point. When he passed that point, she disengaged
herself and headed for the bedroom. Ross followed. She paused in the doorway. "Good night, darling,"
she said again, and closed the door in his face. There was a tantalizing little click as the lock slipped into
position.
Ross stared disbelievingly at the pink panels. Then he started pounding on them. When Candy
opened the door a crack, he roared: "What in hell's the matter with you? This is our wedding night!"
"I know it is, darling. Haven't I let you kiss me twice already?"
"Sure you let me kiss you twice. What of it? I didn't marry you just so I could kiss you!"
She gasped at him. "Then why on earth did you marry me?"
Before he had a chance to answer he found himself confronted by the pink panels again. He resumed
pounding, but this time he got no response. After a while his hands started to hurt, and he desisted.
He went over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself four fingers of I. W. Harper's. He gulped them
down, poured four more. He gulped them down, too. Suddenly he became aware that someoneтАФor
somethingтАФwas tapping on the window. He stepped across the room and threw up the sash. A small,
pale man was sitting in a bo's'n's seat, just beyond the sill. He had a silver pail in one hand and a putty
knife in the other.
"This is a hell of a time for maintenance!" Ross said. "Just what is it you're doing, anyway?"
"Why I'm putting frost on your window, of course," the pale man said. "What did you think I'd be
doing on a cold night like this?"
For a moment Ross couldn't speak, he was so furious. Then: "What's your name?" he demanded.
"I'm going to report you to the management!"
"The management, ha ha," the pale man said. "The management ha ha!"
"I'll 'ha ha' you if you don't tell me your name!"
"Why I'm Jack Frost, you idiot. Who else would be putting frost on your window?"
Ross stared. "Jack Frost!"
The pale man nodded. "Himself."
"For Pete's sake, d'you think I'm a kid? There's no such person as Jack Frost."
"Isn't there, now. First thing you know, you'll be telling me there's no such person as Santa Claus!"
Ross slammed the window shut. He returned to the liquor cabinet and poured himself four more
fingers of I. W., then he went over and sat sullenly on the sofa.
He tried to think. What was it the Adversary had said? That he couldn't subdivide childhood fantasy?
That in order to make Santa Claus real, he had to make everything that went with Santa Claus real, too?
Jack Frost?
Well why not? Wasn't Jack Frost an integral part of childhood fantasy?
Nonsense, Ross thought. I'll be damned if I'll believe it!
 He tossed off his drink and threw the empty glass into the fireplace. He stared glumly at the bedroom