One Magic Christmas Page #5

- and I'll see you in the morning.

- I'll see you in the morning.

Goodbye, Abbie.

Bye, Santa Claus.

You wait here, Abbie, and I'll go

and fetch Gideon to take you home.

Yes, Mrs Santa Claus.

Santa Claus has gone.

- Good night, Gideon.

- Good night, Abbie.

- Hi, Cal.

- Abbie, where you been?

- To the North Pole.

- You have not. Mom's mad at you.

She was looking for you everywhere.

I saw Santa Claus, but he can't make it

so Dad isn't dead any more, but...

You did not see Santa Claus!

I did so. Give me back my glass ball.

Who needs it?

I'm gonna tell Mom you're back.

And you're gonna get it, Abbie.

You're gonna get it good.

Gonna get it!

Mom, Abbie came back. She's upstairs.

Abbie...

I told you, Mom. I told you she was back.

You go on back downstairs.

I want to talk to Abbie for a minute.

Oh, Mom, do I have to?

Yeah, you have to. Go on.

Yes, Mom.

Come on, let's go to your room.

Abbie, where have you been?

I've been worried sick.

I've been to the North Pole, Mom,

to see Santa Claus.

Don't tell me stories like that.

No, Mom, really.

Gideon took me there. He can fly.

You gonna spank me, Mom?

No, I'm not, but you shouldn't tell fibs.

Yes, Mom. But it's true.

There is an angel.

You know there's an angel, or Cal and I

would be drowned in the river.

Maybe there is an angel.

There is a Santa Claus, too. But he

can't make it so Dad's not dead no more.

Aw, honey, nobody can.

No, you can. He said you can.

But then he didn't tell me how.

I'm tired, Mom, real tired.

It took such a long time,

going all the way to the North Pole

and then coming back home again.

I know.

Tell you what.

Close your eyes, go to sleep.

When you wake up in the morning,

it'll be Christmas.

Yes, Mom.

Santa gave me something to give you.

It's a letter.

It's in my pocket.

OK, Abbie.

"December 21 st, 1959."

"Dear Santa Claus,

"I want roller skates and a Hula-Hoop

and a raggedy doll and a tea set

and a Mister Potato Head. "

"Your friend, Ginnie Hanks. "

Oh, my!

Good night, Ginnie. Merry Christmas.

Good night, Gideon.

Oh, Jack!

You're not dead.

Hey, honey, of course I'm not dead.

No... No, of course you're not dead.

Of course not.

It's just that it is so good to see you.

So good to see me?

Well, I saw you a minute ago, didn't I?

You sang that little song, remember?

Yeah. Yeah, just a minute ago, yeah.

I love you so much.

I love you, too.

You're not going to work, Mom?

No, I'm not going to work.

I don't care if Herbie fires me.

It's Christmas Eve

and we're going to be together.

We're going to have

a wonderful Christmas, you'll see.

I'll give it to you.

A hundred bucks, the car's yours.

Forget it. It's not worth anything to me.

50 bucks?

- I'm sorry.

- So what'll you give me for a camp stove?

50 dollars.

- Some kind of joke?

- No. No, I just really need a camp stove.

There it is.

Thanks a lot.

You don't know what this means to me.

Maybe I do.

Thanks again, lady.

Merry Christmas.

I don't care if you fire me, Herbie.

It's Christmas, and I'm going to spend

Christmas Eve with my kids and Jack.

- And I mean it.

- Is that so?

Well, you know

what I have to say about that.

- No.

- Go, and don't come back.

Not until Thursday morning.

But you be on that register

nine o'clock sharp. Merry Christmas.

Herbie! Thanks.

Molly Monaghan wanted a bike.

Yeah, and now she's getting it.

Hurry up. Come on, get in. Close the door.

Merry Christmas!

A bike! A bike!

- Look at it. Isn't it beautiful?

- A bike!

Oh, it's so nice.

- Maybe it needs oil.

- Maybe.

How faithful are thy branches!

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree

How faithful are thy branches

Green are thy boughs in summertime

And through the winter's frosty rime

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree

How faithful are thy branches

For the Jack Grainger bicycle shop.

- Santa Claus?

- Santa Claus.

Santa Claus is real?

No way! He can't be.

But he is. And don't ever forget,

I told you so, Cal.

Something's missing,

something's missing.

Oh! Yes, of course. Lights.

Merry Christmas, Ginnie.

Merry Christmas.

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