The Silence

Word Count = 429

The Silence

I heard the silence when I entered the house. You know the type of silence I mean, that silence which occupies a house where children once lived. Then there was the stench it permeated the room and smelled like an open grave. I took out my list and read it; the name on the list for this address was Rachael and she was eight years old. We received her yearly letter only yesterday and my crew worked all night making her request.

My wife, Maria, was a bit upset over this one. Actually upset might not be the right word here, Maria was frightened and she is not a woman that frightens easily. She kept insisting that she had seen Rachael’s name and address in the obituary column of the N. P. Times, but a search of my database revealed that Rachael still lived.

True Rachael’s request appeared a bit odd, but I have had odd request from children before. In fact, every year I get at least one unusual request from a child somewhere in the world. Because of the rules of my occupation, I am unable to fulfill most those requests. However, there was nothing in the rulebook about this particular request, so I told the guys to go ahead and build her machine.

It took them all night to build and test the apparatus. Then there was the problem of loading it onto my air transport. We had to use a specially constructed trailer to carry the mechanism, that‘s going to cost me a pretty penny. Then there is the extra fuel cost incurred because of the trailer and flying the machine to this location, ground transport would have been cheaper.

Anyway, here I am standing in Rachael’s living room wondering how I am going to get the machine into the house. It is too big to bring in the usual way and the magic I normally use on large items will mess up the contraption’s internal machinery. So how do I get it into the house?

“Rachael was right. “ A male voice comes from behind me. “You are real.”

“Yes,” I say as I turn to face Rachael’s father. “Where is Rachael?”

“First, the machine where is it? “

“It is on the roof, I can’t get it down the chimney and my magic will …”

“That’s alright, Santa. You can transport Rachael to it, can’t you?”

“Yes, but where is she?”

“She is resting on the divan. Please, Santa, hurry before her body decomposes any more. Before it‘s too late to revive her.”