PIP/Santa/Santa at a Funeral

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Santa flew his sleigh down to a small Baptist church in the suburbs of Greenwood, Indiana, just south of Indianapolis where his funeral was to be held. He took the sleigh to an empty field near the cemetery, and unhitched his team, knowing that they wouldn't stray far from the sleigh. He patted the side of one of the reindeer, then made his way to a Waffle House. He ordered a small breakfast, but mostly sat nursing a coffee for the rest of the night. He no longer required sleep, so drinking coffee wasn't a matter of staying awake. It was mostly for the pleasure it brought to him from his life as Randal.


When the time finally came, he made his way to the church. He sat in the back as people said nice things about him while standing beside his open coffin. Afterward, they all got into their cars and drove to the cemetery. Even without the Eye of Odin, Santa had enough magic to transport himself to his sleigh. He waited until everyone arrived, then walked the rest of the way for the remaining part of the ceremony. Once again, he stood in the back and let the living mourn. It was somewhat surreal watching his own funeral, but it was for those he had left behind. It wasn't for him.


After the ceremony was done, and people were leaving; he made his way to his beautiful daughter, Rachael. He'd been working on what to say; but words threatened to fail him.


"Excuse me, Rachael," said Santa as he held out his hand. "I'd like to offer my condolences."


"I don't recognize you," said Rachael as she shook his hand. "Were you a friend of my fathers."


"We were very close for a very long time," said Santa with a grin. "You can call me Nick. I didn't want to bother you; but there is something your father wants... wanted you and your brother to know. Is there somewhere we could all speak privately."


"What about Sean?" she asked.


"By all means," said Santa, "bring Sean and Brandy if you like. It would be best not to bring the children just yet. I'll let you decide if and when it would be appropriate to talk to them about the subject."


"I see," said Rachael. "This is terribly mysterious."


"It's nothing bad," said Santa. "There is no deathbed revelation to ruin the memory of your father; but it IS secret."


"Would dad's old house be appropriate?" asked Rachael. "Let's say six o'clock."


"That sounds just fine," said Santa. "I'll meet you there."


"You don't need the address?" asked Rachael.


"We knew each other very well, Rachael," said Santa with a slight chuckle.


"We'll see you there, Nick," said Rachael.


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