| THE CAPRICORN GOAT |
ISBN 1-60813-090-8 (print)
Chapter One
Echo didn’t pretend to think she had control over the weather, but helping January out was the least she could do since
her accident was probably her fault anyway. With Leroy hanging around, he was likely to instigate anything, even an
accident to—do what? Just maim January, or did he mean to kill her? She had no doubt that he had something to do
with the kid slamming into January. She could only hope the cops would find the link before Leroy did something else
equally dangerous or fatal to one of them. An abusers crime always escalates. She knew this, the police knew this, but
they were all powerless to act until something was actually done. “Stupid laws,” she mumbled.
Working with Taylor at The Capricorn Goat gift store was fun. She drew in her friends and their friends. They bought
Christmas gifts for their parents and grandparents. She was good at helping them decide what choices would fit for
those on their lists. Echo couldn’t imagine that January hadn’t enlisted her help at The Capricorn Goat before. Parents
never seemed to notice how grown up and responsible their kids were all of a sudden. The sales today were
phenomenal. Echo knew she couldn’t have managed the day without Taylor’s help, especially after January left with
Warren Westlake to try to uncover who caused her accident.
Echo pulled her full attention to the page on the screen…the menu. Stuffed mushrooms jumped off the screen at her.
Startled she pushed her chair back and turned away. Race and Destiny’s faces swam past her in, their agonizing
demise. She bolted and walked to the window. As she slid the mini blinds open she could see the full moon radiating
from the snow that looked like so many diamonds dazzling her with their brilliance. This was more than the moon’s pull.
The fact that Destiny and Race had essentially committed suicide on the ever of the engagement was tragic enough, but
for her to be charged or even suspected of their murder. Well, okay, she wasn’t formally charged, but she was a prime
suspect. How, why, who could imagine she was vindictive enough to poison an old flame? And if Race had thought she
could be, he certainly wouldn’t have hired her to cater their intimate dinner would he? Did she look and act insane?
Echo thought, I have been called a lot of things, never a murderer— or was that a murderess. If she had murderous
intentions it would, or at least it should be, directed at that mad man Leroy Rogers. He was no cowboy gentleman and
she’d be damned if she’d play his Dale Evans.
Leroy loathed what his parents loved about the original Rogers and Evans team. If he could do the opposite of what
they had stood for, that was what he was bent on doing. What caused an apple to fall so far from the tree? His parents
were wonderful people. Echo had had many dealings with them over the years. Why was Leroy so obsessed with her?
Echo flung back the covers and pulled her robe from the foot of the bed. She couldn’t sleep, so she might as well work
on the list for the New Year’s Eve party. All of the details were in place already, but she couldn’t help feeling that she
was missing something. What was it? She pulled the folder from the rack on the small desk in her room and opened her
laptop. It was nice of January to accommodate her with all the comforts of home. Computer hookup to the internet was
icing on the cake. She should be content.
Quietly, she opened the folder and opened the documents on the computer to compare the two. Her mind kept
wandering back to Leroy. Was he a psychopath? What was it she had read about the traits of a psychopath? Hot
headed? He certainly was that. Manipulative? He sure tried to be that. Echo went into the guest bathroom and poured
herself a glass of water and returned to the desk. Exploitative, irresponsible, self-centered, shallow? All of these traits
were like reading a personality profile of one Leroy Rogers.
The fact that he was totally antisocial was one of the things that bothered her a lot. He never liked to double date or go
with the group she was used to hanging out with. Echo thought about her career goals. In order to make a success of
her catering business she needed to be social. That was where she would find her new assignments her new clients, not
holed up at home with over-bearing, over-protective Leroy. He stifled her. Smother love? No, she didn’t need Leroy
making her life miserable. She wished he would just go away.
Echo returned to the window, deep in thought. The tranquil setting looked so peaceful she could almost smell the crisp
freshness of the air. A movement caught her eye. A rabbit hopped from the tree line to the bird feeder and began
feeding on the sunflower seeds the birds had pushed off the tray onto the ground as they took flight during the day.
Each hungry visitor seemed to have their appointed time and reason for the way they ate. Too bad humans aren’t so
well designed, she thought.
Another movement caught her attention. A fox slinked along the edge of the trees. She realized the rabbit was about to
become part of the food chain. That awareness grabbed at the pit of her stomach She slammed her feet into her
slippers and raced down the stairs. She flew out the front door, wanting to stop the slaughter before it began. Her heart
was pounding in her chest when she realized where she was and that it was very likely below zero. She rounded the
corner of the house just as the rabbit spotted the fox, but now she was directly in its escape path. She shouted “No!” in
anguish. Would she be responsible for another creature’s death? All she could see or think about was the soft white fur
of the rabbit being ripped apart by the ravenous fox.
The rabbit zigzagged from the feeder, picking up speed as he flew by Echo in his dash to escape the fox. The fox saw
her before the rabbit did and he had already retreated to the woods by the time Echo looked to see if he was behind the
rabbit. The rabbit and fox both left in high gear, leaving her alone, wondering why she thought she needed to interfere.
She let out a great gasp of relief, and the air filled with the vapor of her breath. Little tufts of snow kicked up by the
rabbit’s heels were the only indication that anything had happened at that spot tonight. Saving the rabbit wasn’t a brave
thing; it was a desperate thing. The stalked rabbit became her, and the fox was Leroy. She felt the same desperation to
escape as the rabbit had. What did the fox feel? He seemed exhilarated by the chase. Is that what Leroy felt?
Somewhere a howl broke the stark peacefulness of the evening. It chilled Echo to the bone. She rubbed her arms and
dashed for the house. She had had enough wild encounters for one night.
When she reached the door she turned the door knob, but it didn’t open. She tried again, jiggling the door knob, but still
nothing happened. The door had slammed shut behind her. She was locked out. The air felt suddenly colder than it
had when she came outside. The peacefulness that had been marred by the fox’s attempt to catch the rabbit became
frighteningly filled with creatures that wanted her blood. The howl seemed closer. Would a coyote attack a human? She
had heard of instances where they had. Fear gripped her as she hammered the sides of her fists into the heavy wooden
door. They seemed to make no sound. She didn’t want to wake Taylor or frighten January, but she was freezing to death
and that coyote seemed bent on having her for a late night snack. Why was she so stupid to interfere with Mother
Nature’s food chain? The frightening thoughts of Leroy were nothing compared to the wild yellow eyes that stalked her
ever closer from the tree line. Closing the gap between the trees and her, he moved stealthily forward. His gaze—
hypnotic, focused—never left her. She could feel them locked on her like a homing device, like radar locked on for the
kill.
“January!” she screamed, hoping that the scream itself would send the coyote running. It didn’t. Frantically, she
searched for some appropriate weapon. There was no snow shovel, nothing on the porch that she could use as a
deterrent to the long-legged, gaunt creature. He saw an easy meal. Echo hammered the door again, “Taylor! January!
Help!”
The lanky gray and white creature cut the distance of the tree line to the house in half. He walked slowly, in a swerving
pattern, but directly to where she stood. Her heart leapt into her throat. Is this how it’s going to end for me? Is this what
trying to save a rabbit has done for my life? Tears squeezed out of her eyes, a vice closed on her chest. “January,” she
whispered. As she slid down, down the door, she clutched her knees to her chest as her bottom rested on the door
stoop. Tears pooled, creating a wavy underwater view of the intense yellow eyes purposefully moving to the porch a few
feet from her, so close she could nearly feel his rancid, hot breath pouring steam vapors directly at her throat.
Chapter One
Echo didn’t pretend to think she had control over the weather, but helping January out was the least she could do since
her accident was probably her fault anyway. With Leroy hanging around, he was likely to instigate anything, even an
accident to—do what? Just maim January, or did he mean to kill her? She had no doubt that he had something to do
with the kid slamming into January. She could only hope the cops would find the link before Leroy did something else
equally dangerous or fatal to one of them. An abusers crime always escalates. She knew this, the police knew this, but
they were all powerless to act until something was actually done. “Stupid laws,” she mumbled.
Working with Taylor at The Capricorn Goat gift store was fun. She drew in her friends and their friends. They bought
Christmas gifts for their parents and grandparents. She was good at helping them decide what choices would fit for
those on their lists. Echo couldn’t imagine that January hadn’t enlisted her help at The Capricorn Goat before. Parents
never seemed to notice how grown up and responsible their kids were all of a sudden. The sales today were
phenomenal. Echo knew she couldn’t have managed the day without Taylor’s help, especially after January left with
Warren Westlake to try to uncover who caused her accident.
Echo pulled her full attention to the page on the screen…the menu. Stuffed mushrooms jumped off the screen at her.
Startled she pushed her chair back and turned away. Race and Destiny’s faces swam past her in, their agonizing
demise. She bolted and walked to the window. As she slid the mini blinds open she could see the full moon radiating
from the snow that looked like so many diamonds dazzling her with their brilliance. This was more than the moon’s pull.
The fact that Destiny and Race had essentially committed suicide on the ever of the engagement was tragic enough, but
for her to be charged or even suspected of their murder. Well, okay, she wasn’t formally charged, but she was a prime
suspect. How, why, who could imagine she was vindictive enough to poison an old flame? And if Race had thought she
could be, he certainly wouldn’t have hired her to cater their intimate dinner would he? Did she look and act insane?
Echo thought, I have been called a lot of things, never a murderer— or was that a murderess. If she had murderous
intentions it would, or at least it should be, directed at that mad man Leroy Rogers. He was no cowboy gentleman and
she’d be damned if she’d play his Dale Evans.
Leroy loathed what his parents loved about the original Rogers and Evans team. If he could do the opposite of what
they had stood for, that was what he was bent on doing. What caused an apple to fall so far from the tree? His parents
were wonderful people. Echo had had many dealings with them over the years. Why was Leroy so obsessed with her?
Echo flung back the covers and pulled her robe from the foot of the bed. She couldn’t sleep, so she might as well work
on the list for the New Year’s Eve party. All of the details were in place already, but she couldn’t help feeling that she
was missing something. What was it? She pulled the folder from the rack on the small desk in her room and opened her
laptop. It was nice of January to accommodate her with all the comforts of home. Computer hookup to the internet was
icing on the cake. She should be content.
Quietly, she opened the folder and opened the documents on the computer to compare the two. Her mind kept
wandering back to Leroy. Was he a psychopath? What was it she had read about the traits of a psychopath? Hot
headed? He certainly was that. Manipulative? He sure tried to be that. Echo went into the guest bathroom and poured
herself a glass of water and returned to the desk. Exploitative, irresponsible, self-centered, shallow? All of these traits
were like reading a personality profile of one Leroy Rogers.
The fact that he was totally antisocial was one of the things that bothered her a lot. He never liked to double date or go
with the group she was used to hanging out with. Echo thought about her career goals. In order to make a success of
her catering business she needed to be social. That was where she would find her new assignments her new clients, not
holed up at home with over-bearing, over-protective Leroy. He stifled her. Smother love? No, she didn’t need Leroy
making her life miserable. She wished he would just go away.
Echo returned to the window, deep in thought. The tranquil setting looked so peaceful she could almost smell the crisp
freshness of the air. A movement caught her eye. A rabbit hopped from the tree line to the bird feeder and began
feeding on the sunflower seeds the birds had pushed off the tray onto the ground as they took flight during the day.
Each hungry visitor seemed to have their appointed time and reason for the way they ate. Too bad humans aren’t so
well designed, she thought.
Another movement caught her attention. A fox slinked along the edge of the trees. She realized the rabbit was about to
become part of the food chain. That awareness grabbed at the pit of her stomach She slammed her feet into her
slippers and raced down the stairs. She flew out the front door, wanting to stop the slaughter before it began. Her heart
was pounding in her chest when she realized where she was and that it was very likely below zero. She rounded the
corner of the house just as the rabbit spotted the fox, but now she was directly in its escape path. She shouted “No!” in
anguish. Would she be responsible for another creature’s death? All she could see or think about was the soft white fur
of the rabbit being ripped apart by the ravenous fox.
The rabbit zigzagged from the feeder, picking up speed as he flew by Echo in his dash to escape the fox. The fox saw
her before the rabbit did and he had already retreated to the woods by the time Echo looked to see if he was behind the
rabbit. The rabbit and fox both left in high gear, leaving her alone, wondering why she thought she needed to interfere.
She let out a great gasp of relief, and the air filled with the vapor of her breath. Little tufts of snow kicked up by the
rabbit’s heels were the only indication that anything had happened at that spot tonight. Saving the rabbit wasn’t a brave
thing; it was a desperate thing. The stalked rabbit became her, and the fox was Leroy. She felt the same desperation to
escape as the rabbit had. What did the fox feel? He seemed exhilarated by the chase. Is that what Leroy felt?
Somewhere a howl broke the stark peacefulness of the evening. It chilled Echo to the bone. She rubbed her arms and
dashed for the house. She had had enough wild encounters for one night.
When she reached the door she turned the door knob, but it didn’t open. She tried again, jiggling the door knob, but still
nothing happened. The door had slammed shut behind her. She was locked out. The air felt suddenly colder than it
had when she came outside. The peacefulness that had been marred by the fox’s attempt to catch the rabbit became
frighteningly filled with creatures that wanted her blood. The howl seemed closer. Would a coyote attack a human? She
had heard of instances where they had. Fear gripped her as she hammered the sides of her fists into the heavy wooden
door. They seemed to make no sound. She didn’t want to wake Taylor or frighten January, but she was freezing to death
and that coyote seemed bent on having her for a late night snack. Why was she so stupid to interfere with Mother
Nature’s food chain? The frightening thoughts of Leroy were nothing compared to the wild yellow eyes that stalked her
ever closer from the tree line. Closing the gap between the trees and her, he moved stealthily forward. His gaze—
hypnotic, focused—never left her. She could feel them locked on her like a homing device, like radar locked on for the
kill.
“January!” she screamed, hoping that the scream itself would send the coyote running. It didn’t. Frantically, she
searched for some appropriate weapon. There was no snow shovel, nothing on the porch that she could use as a
deterrent to the long-legged, gaunt creature. He saw an easy meal. Echo hammered the door again, “Taylor! January!
Help!”
The lanky gray and white creature cut the distance of the tree line to the house in half. He walked slowly, in a swerving
pattern, but directly to where she stood. Her heart leapt into her throat. Is this how it’s going to end for me? Is this what
trying to save a rabbit has done for my life? Tears squeezed out of her eyes, a vice closed on her chest. “January,” she
whispered. As she slid down, down the door, she clutched her knees to her chest as her bottom rested on the door
stoop. Tears pooled, creating a wavy underwater view of the intense yellow eyes purposefully moving to the porch a few
feet from her, so close she could nearly feel his rancid, hot breath pouring steam vapors directly at her throat.
| TUNG UMOLOMO |
ISBN 1-4137-0092-6
“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” Desmond TuTu
David Hemingway was not neutral, but he wasn’t expecting what he found in Ewando, South Africa, hope and evil have
no boundaries. Join Hemingway in Billie A Williams' African Adventure story Tung Umolomo. Organized crime and
tradition swirl around his plans for a change from ex-FBI to teacher of young minds, a life of harmony and freedom from
violence.
“In a country well governed poverty is something to be ashamed of. In a country ill governed, wealth is something to be
ashamed of.” Confucius says and Hemingway finds its absolute truth in the tiny Xhosa village of Ewando.
Tung Umolomo is an action adventure set in South Africa with the twists found in a good mystery. The South African
heat cooks more than the landscape as ex-FBI agent David Hemingway and Peace Corps Doctor Alcina Danvers
struggle against ignorance, superstition and political corruption to stop Russian Mafia leader Ivan Vyachenkov from
robbing the Xhosa people of their pride, their land and their natural resources. Local legends, especially the tribal icon
of good represented by the ever present Eagle Owl, play heavily in the lives of all the participants.
A car with his family in it isn’t all that exploded and changed the life of David Hemingway when he decided to opt out of
his FBI life and teach the children in the deepest darkest farthest away country he could think of Ewando South Africa.
Only to find out that the only thing that really changed was the players and the playing field everything else remained
the same.
Join them. Expect the unexpected, suspense with sass, mystery and suspense with edge of your seat action, and
intrigue.
“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” Desmond TuTu
David Hemingway was not neutral, but he wasn’t expecting what he found in Ewando, South Africa, hope and evil have
no boundaries. Join Hemingway in Billie A Williams' African Adventure story Tung Umolomo. Organized crime and
tradition swirl around his plans for a change from ex-FBI to teacher of young minds, a life of harmony and freedom from
violence.
“In a country well governed poverty is something to be ashamed of. In a country ill governed, wealth is something to be
ashamed of.” Confucius says and Hemingway finds its absolute truth in the tiny Xhosa village of Ewando.
Tung Umolomo is an action adventure set in South Africa with the twists found in a good mystery. The South African
heat cooks more than the landscape as ex-FBI agent David Hemingway and Peace Corps Doctor Alcina Danvers
struggle against ignorance, superstition and political corruption to stop Russian Mafia leader Ivan Vyachenkov from
robbing the Xhosa people of their pride, their land and their natural resources. Local legends, especially the tribal icon
of good represented by the ever present Eagle Owl, play heavily in the lives of all the participants.
A car with his family in it isn’t all that exploded and changed the life of David Hemingway when he decided to opt out of
his FBI life and teach the children in the deepest darkest farthest away country he could think of Ewando South Africa.
Only to find out that the only thing that really changed was the players and the playing field everything else remained
the same.
Join them. Expect the unexpected, suspense with sass, mystery and suspense with edge of your seat action, and
intrigue.
| A CHRISTMAS DREAM 3-ACT PLAY |
A Star Publish LLC Book
http://starpublish.com
A Christmas Dream: A 3-Act Play for Small to Medium Theatrical Groups
©Janet Elaine Smith 2007 (book)
©Billie Williams 2007 (script)
ISBN: 1-932993-80-0
ISBN 13: 1-932993-80-0
ACT I
THE SETTING: Darkened stage, all that is visible is a 30-something woman sitting in a recliner with a small reindeer Christmas ornament
in her hands.
(She slowly turns the ornament round and round, then clutches it to
her heart as her area of the stage darkens)
SETTING CON’T: Lights come up on a Christmas shop, stage right. Mountains are visible through the window; obviously winter. The
marquee/sign over the checkout counter says THE NORTH POLE. Two young lovers enter, hand-in-hand, the woman very pregnant, the
soldier in uniform. Delight over the various ceramic and hand-crafted Christmas things is obvious.
MRS. CLAUS
Welcome to the North Pole
(She passes a platter of sugar cookies to the young couple.)
MRS. CLAUS (CON’T)
I’m Mrs. Santa Claus. If I can help you find what you want, please ask. Would you like some milk to go with your cookies?
(Susan, one hand on her very-pregnant belly, takes a cookie from the platter and smiles at Mrs. Claus.)
SUSAN
Thank you Mrs.—um—Claus. Is that Santa Claus?
MRS. CLAUS
Seriously, my husband’s family name is Claus, and yes his first name is Santa—true and legal.
SANTA CLAUS
(Enters stage left, dressed all in his Santa suit, a broad smile on his face)
My parents had a great sense of humor and named me Santa. All through school I was Sam, though.
SUSAN
And you named your child…
(Susan hesitates, not wanting to offend in case the Clauses weren’t religious.)
MRS. CLAUS
(Eyes downcast, turning from the young couple to put the platter back on the small table beside the entranceway.)
We could never have children.
SUSAN
(Wriggling nervously, shifting from foot to foot, obviously embarrassed by her insensitive comment to two complete strangers, rubs her
hand over her bulging belly.)
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…
MR. CLAUS
Not to worry, dear. We just decided we’d do what we could for other children. Adopting other people’s children, sort of. Instead, we do what
we can for the children in the nearby orphanages—and the rest—at least at Christmas time.
(Hours pass as the Clauses entertain the young couple with tales of their philanthropic adventures. A stream of characters come down the
aisle and cross the stage as the two couples sit, talking and listening to Santa’s tales. Tiny tots through grade-school children of all ages,
high school, and generally people of various ages pass across the stage until a very old man hobbles across the stage. A howling wind
blasts the windows with snow—a blizzard has begun while they were engrossed in Mr. Claus’s storytelling.)
MARK QUINCY
We better get on the road. The weather is starting to turn nasty, Susan.
MR. CLAUS
I’m afraid in this blizzard you’d be traveling on treacherous roads. The avalanche potential is serious when we get one of these storms. We
have plenty of room. Why not spend the night here?
(He glances at Mrs. Claus for approval, and she nods her head.)
MRS. CLAUS
Oh, yes. I would love to have you stay. You can help us wrap toys for the orphanage. It would be so nice to have someone to cook for
instead of just the two of us.
(A broad smile on her face, she takes Susan’s hands in hers. Lights darken. Lights come up bright and the snow has stopped.)
SETTING: The next day, bright sunshine streaming through the windows.
(Mark and Susan shop in the Christmas shop for gifts for friends back home.)
MR. CLAUS
It’s time to go feed the reindeer. Mark, would you like to join me?
SUSAN
And me, too. Oh please! I would love to see the reindeer.
MARK
(Resting his hand on her stomach, his arm around her.)
Perhaps you shouldn’t. I mean the deep snow, walking through that. What about the baby?
(Santa and Mrs. Claus nod their heads in agreement)
SUSAN
Mark, I’m not an invalid. The walk would do me good. We’ve been sitting, and then sleeping, with no activity for hours. You know I'm
supposed to get some exercise. It won’t hurt the baby. I’ll be fine. Please, Mr. Claus.
(Santa, Susan and Mark walk offstage left and the lights dim as Mrs. Claus begins arranging ceramic figures on the shelves in the shop. In
the background, music begins to the tune of "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer." The audience is asked to join in, singing “Buford, the
Misfit Reindeer.” Lyrics have been supplied for that and the other songs in the play in the program handouts, given to each patron as they
entered the theater, and the narrator informs the audience they are encouraged to sing along as the play continues.)
SETTING: Back inside the North Pole shop, Susan holds a tiny reindeer ornament, examining it, turning it around and around.)
SUSAN
I want this one. Yes, this is the one. So tiny, so precious. This will be my reminder of our wonderful time here every Christmas when I put it
on our tree.
(She wraps an arm around Mark, smiling up at him. He bends down and kisses her forehead.)
MRS. CLAUS
Oh no! Not that one. How did that get out here? Here, dear, take this one instead.
(She hands Susan another reindeer from the shelf and retrieves the other from her hands.)
SUSAN
But, it—it’s so perfect, so precious. Why can’t I buy that one?
MRS. CLAUS
He’s imperfect. See?
(Mrs. Claus places the deer on the counter and it tilts badly to one side)
One leg is shorter than the rest. I can’t imagine how that could have happened. I can’t sell you an inferior piece.
SUSAN
Exactly! That is precisely why I want him. He's just like Buford. Please let me buy him. I love him. He’ll be a reminder of you and Mr. Claus
and your wonderful shop every time I look at him. Oh please!
MRS. CLAUS
(Picks up the small reindeer. Gives it a hug and hands it to Susan.)
If you’re positive you want him.
SUSAN
(Grabs Mrs. Claus and gives her a big hug)
I’m sure. Absolutely sure!
(Scene darkens and returns to light, with Susan still sitting in the recliner, no longer pregnant, with the reindeer. Two men, dressed in
uniforms, walk through with a letter, covered in black gauze cloth. They hand the letter to Susan, along with a folded American flag. Susan
clutches the flag, letter, and envelope to her breast. She drops the reindeer to the floor. A little boy retrieves it and hands it to her. She pulls
him onto her lap and hugs him.)
http://starpublish.com
A Christmas Dream: A 3-Act Play for Small to Medium Theatrical Groups
©Janet Elaine Smith 2007 (book)
©Billie Williams 2007 (script)
ISBN: 1-932993-80-0
ISBN 13: 1-932993-80-0
ACT I
THE SETTING: Darkened stage, all that is visible is a 30-something woman sitting in a recliner with a small reindeer Christmas ornament
in her hands.
(She slowly turns the ornament round and round, then clutches it to
her heart as her area of the stage darkens)
SETTING CON’T: Lights come up on a Christmas shop, stage right. Mountains are visible through the window; obviously winter. The
marquee/sign over the checkout counter says THE NORTH POLE. Two young lovers enter, hand-in-hand, the woman very pregnant, the
soldier in uniform. Delight over the various ceramic and hand-crafted Christmas things is obvious.
MRS. CLAUS
Welcome to the North Pole
(She passes a platter of sugar cookies to the young couple.)
MRS. CLAUS (CON’T)
I’m Mrs. Santa Claus. If I can help you find what you want, please ask. Would you like some milk to go with your cookies?
(Susan, one hand on her very-pregnant belly, takes a cookie from the platter and smiles at Mrs. Claus.)
SUSAN
Thank you Mrs.—um—Claus. Is that Santa Claus?
MRS. CLAUS
Seriously, my husband’s family name is Claus, and yes his first name is Santa—true and legal.
SANTA CLAUS
(Enters stage left, dressed all in his Santa suit, a broad smile on his face)
My parents had a great sense of humor and named me Santa. All through school I was Sam, though.
SUSAN
And you named your child…
(Susan hesitates, not wanting to offend in case the Clauses weren’t religious.)
MRS. CLAUS
(Eyes downcast, turning from the young couple to put the platter back on the small table beside the entranceway.)
We could never have children.
SUSAN
(Wriggling nervously, shifting from foot to foot, obviously embarrassed by her insensitive comment to two complete strangers, rubs her
hand over her bulging belly.)
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…
MR. CLAUS
Not to worry, dear. We just decided we’d do what we could for other children. Adopting other people’s children, sort of. Instead, we do what
we can for the children in the nearby orphanages—and the rest—at least at Christmas time.
(Hours pass as the Clauses entertain the young couple with tales of their philanthropic adventures. A stream of characters come down the
aisle and cross the stage as the two couples sit, talking and listening to Santa’s tales. Tiny tots through grade-school children of all ages,
high school, and generally people of various ages pass across the stage until a very old man hobbles across the stage. A howling wind
blasts the windows with snow—a blizzard has begun while they were engrossed in Mr. Claus’s storytelling.)
MARK QUINCY
We better get on the road. The weather is starting to turn nasty, Susan.
MR. CLAUS
I’m afraid in this blizzard you’d be traveling on treacherous roads. The avalanche potential is serious when we get one of these storms. We
have plenty of room. Why not spend the night here?
(He glances at Mrs. Claus for approval, and she nods her head.)
MRS. CLAUS
Oh, yes. I would love to have you stay. You can help us wrap toys for the orphanage. It would be so nice to have someone to cook for
instead of just the two of us.
(A broad smile on her face, she takes Susan’s hands in hers. Lights darken. Lights come up bright and the snow has stopped.)
SETTING: The next day, bright sunshine streaming through the windows.
(Mark and Susan shop in the Christmas shop for gifts for friends back home.)
MR. CLAUS
It’s time to go feed the reindeer. Mark, would you like to join me?
SUSAN
And me, too. Oh please! I would love to see the reindeer.
MARK
(Resting his hand on her stomach, his arm around her.)
Perhaps you shouldn’t. I mean the deep snow, walking through that. What about the baby?
(Santa and Mrs. Claus nod their heads in agreement)
SUSAN
Mark, I’m not an invalid. The walk would do me good. We’ve been sitting, and then sleeping, with no activity for hours. You know I'm
supposed to get some exercise. It won’t hurt the baby. I’ll be fine. Please, Mr. Claus.
(Santa, Susan and Mark walk offstage left and the lights dim as Mrs. Claus begins arranging ceramic figures on the shelves in the shop. In
the background, music begins to the tune of "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer." The audience is asked to join in, singing “Buford, the
Misfit Reindeer.” Lyrics have been supplied for that and the other songs in the play in the program handouts, given to each patron as they
entered the theater, and the narrator informs the audience they are encouraged to sing along as the play continues.)
SETTING: Back inside the North Pole shop, Susan holds a tiny reindeer ornament, examining it, turning it around and around.)
SUSAN
I want this one. Yes, this is the one. So tiny, so precious. This will be my reminder of our wonderful time here every Christmas when I put it
on our tree.
(She wraps an arm around Mark, smiling up at him. He bends down and kisses her forehead.)
MRS. CLAUS
Oh no! Not that one. How did that get out here? Here, dear, take this one instead.
(She hands Susan another reindeer from the shelf and retrieves the other from her hands.)
SUSAN
But, it—it’s so perfect, so precious. Why can’t I buy that one?
MRS. CLAUS
He’s imperfect. See?
(Mrs. Claus places the deer on the counter and it tilts badly to one side)
One leg is shorter than the rest. I can’t imagine how that could have happened. I can’t sell you an inferior piece.
SUSAN
Exactly! That is precisely why I want him. He's just like Buford. Please let me buy him. I love him. He’ll be a reminder of you and Mr. Claus
and your wonderful shop every time I look at him. Oh please!
MRS. CLAUS
(Picks up the small reindeer. Gives it a hug and hands it to Susan.)
If you’re positive you want him.
SUSAN
(Grabs Mrs. Claus and gives her a big hug)
I’m sure. Absolutely sure!
(Scene darkens and returns to light, with Susan still sitting in the recliner, no longer pregnant, with the reindeer. Two men, dressed in
uniforms, walk through with a letter, covered in black gauze cloth. They hand the letter to Susan, along with a folded American flag. Susan
clutches the flag, letter, and envelope to her breast. She drops the reindeer to the floor. A little boy retrieves it and hands it to her. She pulls
him onto her lap and hugs him.)