Part 2

Once they reached the mall, they had to drive around for ten minutes to find a parking space. Oliver couldn't believe how many people could be in one place at the same time.

They stepped inside and headed toward where 'Santa's' giant chair was set up. It was in the very middle of the mall. As they walked past it, he saw a long line of people waiting for Santa, well actually him, to come. Oliver sighed again. This was going to be very, uh, interesting.

His mother led him to the mall manager's office, where he was given a giant, red Santa suit.

"Uh, isn't this a little big?" Oliver asked, whining and looking down at the suit. "How am I supposed to fit into this?"

"Oh, we'll just shove some pillows in it and you'll look just like Santa Claus!" The manager yelled. "Now quit whining and put it on already! There's a huge line of people waiting for you!"

Oliver sighed, again. Things were not going well and the stupid mall manager wasn't making things any better. The manager pushed him out his door.

Oliver went in the bathroom and changed into the suit. It was the baggiest thing he'd ever worn. It was even baggier than his Mike Stanley III disguise. He stuffed some pillows in it, that the manager had given him, like he had been told to. Then he put on the fake white beard and red hat. He looked in the mirror. He sighed. The things he did for his mother…

He walked out of the bathroom. The manager was standing there waiting for him.

"Hymph, about time." The manager mumbled, grabbing 'Santa's' arm and pulling him toward his office again.

"Now, here's what you do. You go over there and you sit in that chair. Then a kid comes up, you put them on your lap, and you ask what they want for Christmas. Then you give them a stupid candy cane out of that bag over there and send them on their way. Got that?"

"Uh, yeah, I think, Mr…. Uh, mall manager… dude." Oliver stuttered, trying to remember everything he had been instructed to do.

"Just call me Mr. Marshall, ok? Now just go already before everyone gets impatient!" Mr. Marshall loudly whispered. "Oh, and remember to talk in a deep voice."

Oliver rolled his eyes. How on Earth did he get himself into these things?

He slowly approached the area where at least fifty people were standing, all waiting for him.

He walked up the small steps to where the giant chair was and sat down. Kids squealed and jumped up and down.

"Look Mommy, it's Santa!" a little kid screamed. "I want to go first!"

"No Honey, we have to wait in line like everyone else." He heard their mother say.

Oliver sighed and yelled, "Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas!" He felt stupid. If anyone he knew saw him doing this he'd be the laughing stock of the entire school.

The first little kid hopped up the stairs and plopped down on Oliver's lap. It was a little boy. He had black hair and was missing his two front teeth.

"All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth." Oliver sang quietly to himself.

"What was that, Santa?" the little boy asked.

"Huh? Oh, nothing." He replied in a deep voice. "So, what is your name, little boy?" He didn't think he sound very convincing.

"I'm Ben." The little boy said. "And for Christmas I want a giant laser gun that can wipe out the entire universe!!! It'll be all 'BANG!!! POW! You're dead!!' I'll be king of the world!"

"Just keep tellin' yourself that…" Oliver mumbled.

"What was that, Santa?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. Um, I'll see what I can do. Here's a candy cane." Oliver replied.

The kid shrugged and hopped down.

Oliver sighed, again.

'One down, two million to go…' He thought.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Lilly, are you sure you're ok?" Miley asked. "You're acting kind of strange."

"Yeah." Hailey continued. "You're usually all 'joy to the world' and stuff, being ecstatic about Christmas, but this year you're just kind of down in the dumps. You're not even laughing about anything anymore."

"I'm fine, Guys." Lilly said. "You have to believe me."

"I wish we could but you just don't seem like yourself."

Lilly sighed, again. Why wouldn't they just give her a break? She had to prove to them somehow that she was fine, even though she wasn't. Then they'd get off her back.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was 3:47 pm and Oliver had listened to exactly thirty-one kids blab on about what they wanted for Christmas. He didn't know how much more he could take.

Kids kept asking him questions that he didn't know the answers to, questions like, 'How do you visit all those kids in one night?' and 'How do you fit down the chimneys when your stomach is so big?' and 'How come Rudolph isn't included in everything? It's not fair!'

He was about to explode. He knew they meant well, but he had better things to do.

As a little girl told him what she wanted for Christmas, he started thinking about other things. He thought that now that he was getting paid for this he would have money to buy people nice gifts. He pretty much always got his friends better gifts than his family. He didn't mean to, but it was just easier to shop for his friends. Well, some of his friends. It was always easy to shop for Miley. He'd just get her a CD or something. But Lilly was different. He'd always tried to come up with something fantastic to give her, because they had been friends so long, but she somehow always managed to get him something better, something that involved more thought and caring than his did. He felt bad about it. He hadn't gotten her a really great gift since '98 when he baked her a giant chocolate chip cookie and written her name on it with icing.

But he wasn't five anymore and things weren't so simple. Every time he tried to make her something, it'd always turned out crummy. But he really cared about Lilly, and he wanted to get her something special.

"Santa…? Santa, are you listening to me?!" the little girl shouted.

"Oh, uh, of course I am, uh, Sweetie. I'll see what I can do." He said in his 'man voice' as he handed her a candy cane.