Title: Miracle on the Third and Fourth Floor
Rating: PG (it's a Christmas story after all)
Written a few years ago...
PART 1.
Thanksgiving was fast-approaching, but Lisa Cuddy's thoughts were not on turkey or football or the start of the Christmas shopping season, or any of the myriad of things other people associate with the end-of-November holiday.
She needed to find a Santa. Strange job for a nice Jewish woman who had a hospital to run, but she'd decided long ago that every year she would hand-pick the jolly old elf that would hold court in Pediatrics from Thanksgiving to Christmas.
So here she was, once again screening applicants. He couldn't be too young, or too old. White hair and whiskers would be nice, but they needn't be real. She'd already interviewed twelve applicants, including one woman. Maybe the thirteenth would be lucky for her. She looked at the form that the next man had filled out and had to smile. He'd listed his name as Kris Kringle. Well, she'd just have to see.
He entered her office, a man of just below medium height. Longish, curly white hair, but neat, and matching mustache and beard. What she could see of his cheeks was rosy. There was definitely a twinkle in eyes the kind of brilliant clue she'd only seen in one other man.
"Have you ever done this before?" she asked.
"Oh, yes. Many times" came the booming voice, full of laughter.
He made her smile. She could just imagine what he'd do for the sick kids in Peds. She made her decision. "When can you start?"
"Tomorrow will be just fine" he replied.
She took his hand and shook it, then told him where he could find the hospital's Santa suit.
"Oh, I have one of my own, my dear" he said. "See you tomorrow."
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The next day she found him ensconced on the 'throne' set up near the nurse's station in Pediatrics. She stood to the side, watching him as the nurses brought the ambulatory kids out to see him. A smile lit up her face.
"Who's the new Santa?" Wilson asked. He'd just let a group of Pediatric Oncology patients to meet the man.
"His name's Kris Kringle" Cuddy said.
"Sure it is." Wilson smirked.
A six-year-old boy was now on Kris's lap "Que ce que tu desire, Jean?" Kris asked.
"Je desire un Velo" the little boy said.
"Quel colour?"
"Rouge!" Jean replied.
"Ah! Je cherchera un bicyclette rouge pour tu" Kris told him.
"Merci!" Jean said, slipping off of his lap.
"He spoke to Jean in French!" Wilson marveled.
"So what. I can speak French. He told the kid he'd look for a red bike for him" Cuddy replied.
"But he automatically spoke to him in French before Jean opened his mouth."
"He did, didn't he?" she suddenly realized.
They stood side by side and watched until Kris took a break and came over to say 'hello'.
"Kris, this is Dr. James Wilson" Cuddy said.
"I've heard good things about you, Dr. Wilson" Kris said, smiling at him.
"You're doing a great job with the kids" Wilson said.
"What's wrong with the little boy from Haiti?"
"Jean?" Wilson hadn't even know where the family was from.
"Yes. Can his parents afford a bike for him?" Kris asked.
"I don't know" Cuddy replied. "We'll make sure he gets one."
"Thank you." A few more children had formed a line. "Well, I'd better get back to work."
"Before you go, are you making the long trip back and forth to Patterson every day?" Cuddy asked.
"Well, yes."
"Perhaps we can find some place where you can stay nearer the hospital while you're working with us."
"I've just moved into a condo" Wilson said. "I've got a spare room" he offered.
"That's kind of you. I'd like that. Well, I'd better go now." The line of children was growing.
When he's returned to them, Cuddy asked "How did he know Jean was from Haiti?"
"His dialect?"
"I don't think so" she said. "Maybe you can find out something more about our Santa while he's staying with you."
"Oh, I intend to."
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The next day House barged into Wilson's office and asked his friend "Where were you going with Santa last night?"
"His name's Kris" Wilson corrected him.
"Kringle, no doubt."
"C'mon. He's meeting us for lunch."
House rolled his eyes, but decided not to forego his free lunch and a chance for a little fun. Kris was waiting for them just inside the cafeteria.
"Kris, this is my friend, Dr. Gregory House. House, this is Kris Kringle" Wilson introduced them.
They grabbed their trays, filled them with food, Wilson paid, and they found a table.
"In case you were wondering, he sleeps with them out" Wilson told House, then had to answer the puzzled look he got. "His whiskers."
"Why would I wonder about that?" House asked.
"You're a doubter, aren't you?" Kris asked.
"No, I'm certain. I'm certain about my brain and what it can do, I'm certain about anything I can see, smell, hear, taste, touch, experience. Anything else is suspicious or downright nonexistent."
"Ah" Kris said, putting a forefinger to his nose. "Have you ever been to India?"
"I thought you'd know that" House said facetiously.
"You're confusing me with God. It's a common mistake."
"Yes, I've been to India."
"Two wild white eyebrows lifted a half inch. "OK. How about South Africa? Does it exist even if you haven't been there?"
"I've read about it, saw pictures on the boob tube. Dismissed half of what I read. Nelson Mandela was a fool" House concluded.
"For standing up for what he believed in?"
"He went to jail" House stated.
"And became President when he got out. He was able to change laws and perceptions in his country" Kris pointed out. "That sounds like something you'd do, Gregory. Whatever it takes to achieve an end, including breaking laws." He watched as House thought that over, then rose. "Well, it's almost one. I've got to get back to the children."
After he left, Wilson told House "He talks to the kids in their native languages."
"I can do that" House said. "His red cheeks are from drinking too much, and with that shape, he's at high risk for a heart attack."
!
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