Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's Notes: I thought we needed a happy story next lol, after the last chapter. So here is the Les story, with Racetrack trying to explain to him the finer points of Santa Clause. It's set in the same time frame as the movie, and the characters are their respective ages. Hope you enjoy ... and review, lol.
You'd better watch out!
You'd better not cry!
You'd better not pout!
I'm telling you why,
Santa Claus is comin' to town.
He's making a list
and checking it twice.
He's going to find out who's naughty and nice.
Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town.
He sees when you are sleeping.
He knows when you're awake.
He knows if you've been bad or good.
So be good for goodness sake!
With little tin horns and little toy drums,
rootie-toot-toots and rum-a-tum tums.
Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town
Curly head dolls that toddle and coo,
elephant folks and kiddie cars too.
Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town
You'd better watch out!
You'd better not cry!
You'd better not pout!
I'm telling you why,
Santa Claus is comin' to town.
He's making a list
and checking it twice.
He's going to find out who's naughty and nice.
Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town!
-Santa Clause Is Comin' To Town-
"Hey, whatcha cryin' fah, kid?" Race asked a pouty-faced Les Jacobs.
Les sniffed, pretty pathetically, and plumped himself down on the doorstep of the Lodging House. He was all bundled up from head to toe – no doubt the work of a worrying Mrs. Jacobs. He had big cloppy boots, and, by the looks of it, several jackets covering up several bunchy sweaters. He had thick woolen mittens, two scarves, and a knit hat pulled down to right above his eyes. The poor kid had to tilt his head all the way back just to be able to see Race standing above him.
"That Delancy boy … he stole my candy." Les kicked a chunk of snow a few feet away. "Boots broke me off half of a candy cane he got, but that Morris, he took it and pushed me in the snow."
Race tutted disapprovingly and sat down beside the boy. "Da Delancy's ain't no good. Sorry kid."
Les sniffled some more. "I tried to soak him, but he was a lot bigger than me …"
Race laughed at the Les's naivety. "Don't worry," he said, "I bet next time you'll get 'im good."
Les smiled.
"Anyhow," Race continued, lighting a cigarette, "Ya shouldn't be cryin'. Not so close tah Christmas an' all. You know dat."
"Why not?"
Race nearly choked on a mouthful of smoke. "Whatcha mean 'why not?' – Cause Santa Clause'll getcha nothin' fah Christmas!"
Les furrowed his eyebrows in a contemplative matter, and it was only making a face like this that Race had ever seen any resemblance between Les and his older brother David. The thought made Race smile to himself for just a second before explaining to the boy: "If ya ain't bein' a good boy, Santa Clause'll leave ya coal in ya stockin'."
But still, Les could not understand. He had never heard of Saint Claws before.
Race rolled his eyes. "Les, c'mon kid, Santa Clause … ya gotta know who Santa Clause is."
Les shrugged, quite embarrassed now that there was just one more thing everyone in the world seemed to know but him.
Just then Blink walked up, an arm slung over Mush's broad shoulders. "Heya Les," they greeted, "What's goin' on, Race?"
Race looked up helplessly. "Dis kid ain't nevah hoid a' Santa Clause."
Blink's jaw dropped, and Mush shook his head. To the newsies, Santa Clause was like a god – if only for the fact that none of them had seen the man in years. And in their heads, they knew there was really no such thing as Santa Clause; but in their hearts, they still hoped that maybe one Christmas they'd wake up to a big lit up Christmas tree, all surrounded by brightly wrapped packages with bows. For Les – a good and proper boy with a good and proper house and good and proper parents – not to know who Santa Clause was, well, that was some sort of blasphemy.
Blink and Mush joined the group, and Blink smiled at Les. "Santa Clause," he said, "He lives at da North Pole an' drives a sleigh and brings kids presents on Christmas morning."
Les frowned. He had never gotten presents on Christmas morning. Why?
Mush was grinning ear to ear. "Yeah," he continued, "An' he wears all red an' has a big white beard an' when he laughs he says 'Ho ho ho!'"
Les chuckled. Mush's impression of a Santa Clause had been rather humorous, even if the thought of any man dressed in red coming into his house at night did scare Les a little.
"So dat's why ya can't be cryin' an' poutin' like dis. 'Cause he can see ya, right? He's watchin' ya all da time tah see if ya been naughty or nice. An' if ya been nice, ya get real good presents. But if ya been naughty, ya don't get nothin', just coal in ya stockin'." Race said all this in a very somber tone of voice, as if he were in a church.
To Les, this sounded very strange, who wasn't sure how this Santa Clause person would get coal into his stockings if he was wearing them … But he nodded, very seriously at Race all the same.
"So," Blink was concluding, "Just be careful, alright? 'Cause ya nevah know. Ya gotta watch how ya behave, cause Santa Clause, well, he sees ya all da time, even when ya think nobody's lookin'."
Les swallowed hard. That certainly sounded more frightening than anything.
Mush laughed, patting Les on the shoulder. "Don't worry Les, you're a good kid, huh? I'm shoah Santa'll be good tah ya. He'll bring ya all kinds a fun stuff – toy trains an' tin soldjahs, an' more candy canes den you'll evah be able tah eat."
At this, Les smiled. It made up for all the creepy Santa stuff to hear about all the toys and candy Santa stuff.
"So just keep on ya best behavior, right?" Mush nodded, "Cause he's comin' tah town real soon."
Les nodded – the incident with Morris and the candy cane wholly forgotten in light of new and better things to think about. The boy made a silent promise to himself right then and there to not pout ever again. He would even help his mom with the dishes when she asked him next time, hoping that Santa Clause would see that and take notice.
Just then, David and Jack found their way back home and saw everybody sitting outside. "Hey, what's goin' on?" Jack asked, "Are we havin' a party?"
Race chuckled, and went over to place a hand on David's shoulder. "I gots a bone tah pick with ya, Davey boy. Why is it ya nevah told Les heah about Santa Clause? What kinda childhood is dat?"
David looked from Race to Les and back to Race again. "A Jewish one," he replied evenly, only the slightest hint of a chuckle on his face.
Race raised an eyebrow and David laughed, "Race, we're Jewish. We don't even celebrate Christmas. We celebrate Hanukah."
Race looked extremely confused. And even though Les was disappointed that he would not get his toy trains and tin soldiers from Santana Clothes, he agreed to sit down with David and explain to his friends the finer points of Hanukah, just as Race had so patiently explained to him about the scary man in red with the Ho ho ho laughter.
