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Grumbling under his breath, Mammon reluctantly walked the pathway toward Purgatory Hall.
“Mammon, please deliver this to Luke. Michael sent him a gift. You’re help is most appreciated.”
Mammon mockingly imitated Simeon’s request. While their relationship with Luke has improved greatly over the course of the exchange program, the young angel still slipped here and there with stupid comments and derogatory remarks. Even though he knew that undoing all influence from his bigoted upbringing would not happen overnight, Mammon still gritted his teeth and growled at the stupid shit that tumbled out of Luke’s mouth. All he could hope was to quickly deliver the package and get the hell out with minimal interaction.
Entering the dormitory, Mammon quickly beelined for Luke’s room. He pounded the door a few times but received no answer. That was good enough for him. Mammon laid the package by the door and turned to leave. On his way out, a distant sound of clanks, thuds, and grunts reached Mammon’s ears. He shouldn’t have cared but curiosity got the better of him. Turning down the hall, Mammon walked to the kitchen and peaked through the door. What he saw caused an eyebrow to quirk in confusion as pieces of cookie were smashed under Luke’s fists, crumbs flying all over the counter and kitchen floor. Seeing that level of wrath kind of amused Mammon as he continued to watch the tirade…that was until he saw Luke’s tears streaming down his face. Mammon shoved the doors open and raced over to the young angel, scooping him up and restraining him in his strong arms. Luke screamed his demands to be set down and futilely kicked the demon. This continued until Luke was absolutely spent, all energy reserves depleted. Only then did Mammon released the angel and surveyed the path of destruction. The larger chunks resembled the shapes of stars, bells, and trees. A container of already frosted cookies were strewn about after what he assumed as the result of the container being thrown at a wall. What laid before him now must have been the latest batch out of the oven. Mammon spun Luke around to face him and crouched down to his level.
“What the hell happened, kid?”
Mammon watched Luke roughly rub the tears out of his eyes. Loud sniffles echoed throughout the kitchen. This carried on for a couple of minutes. After a while Mammon suspected that Luke was trying to hide his face from him. He reached up and gentle grabbed Luke’s wrists and lowered his arms so he couldn’t conceal himself anymore. The little angel’s eyes were red and puffy with some of his skin rubbed raw. Luke’s strangled breathing prevented him from forming words properly.
“Oi, take some deep breaths.”
Luke breathed in deeply and then exhaled slowly. He repeated the process a few times before Mammon ventured to press him again.
“What’s the deal with the cookies?”
“They were supposed to be for Santa, and you guys too. But…”
“But what?”
“I texted Belphegor to warn him about not letting Beelzebub come over to Purgatory Hall for any reason. I didn’t want him to try to steal any cookies. I wanted them perfect before I started delivering it to you all as Christmas gifts. When I mentioned some were going to be left for Santa Claus, he made fun of me. Told me that he wasn’t real and that I was too old to still believe in human fairytales.”
Luke’s voice progressively grew quieter as he recounted the conversation. Mammon used all his might to keep a stoic face while rage bubbled in his chest.
Belphie, you can be such an asshole.
“Is it true?” Luke asked, interrupting Mammon’s thoughts.
“Is what true?”
“That Santa isn’t real.”
Luke wringed his hands together and bit his lip as he awaited the response. Mammon looked Luke straight in the eye. A hopeful plea stared back, breaking Mammon’s heart.
“Santa ain’t real, but his spirit is.”
Luke casted his eyes down to the ground. He spun around so Mammon couldn’t a fresh round of tears begin welling in his eyes.
“Can you leave, please? I would like to be alone.”
The angel trudged out of the kitchen with his head hung low. Mammon watched the dejected child round the corner and disappear to probably sulk in his room.
“Ah shit,” he grumbled as he picked up a broom and dustpan and began sweeping up the crumbs.
* * *
A couple of days passed since his meltdown, but Luke wasn’t feeling any better. At school, Luke kept his head on the desk, only half paying attention to the lessons. He refused to make eye contact with Belphegor and avoided the demon at all cost. Luke wasn’t ready for the barrage of teasing that may come out of the youngest demon. He wasn’t sure if Belphegor told anyone else about the incident but decided to avoid the other brothers all the same. They all viewed him as a child anyway. This would only serve as another reason to look down on him, and right now he couldn’t handle anyone else’s condescension. After class, Luke bolted out of RAD and ran back to Purgatory Hall, locking his door behind him. Simeon had been pestering him, trying to get to the bottom of his sour mood, and he really didn’t need his guardian breathing down his neck. Turning to his bed, Luke spied a red and green bag with an envelope propped up against it. Luke opened it and read the little card inside:
“Put this on and meet me at the House of Lamentation.
-Mammon”
Luke peered into the bag and found a set of clothes. He sighed heavily, debating whether he should comply or ignore the demand, especially without knowing what the demon was up to. It was rarely smart to humor the Avatar of Greed without knowing his intentions. However, lately Mammon hadn’t acted maliciously around the angel. Deciding it was better than being under Simeon’s thumb, Luke changed into what appeared to be human-styled clothes and headed for the House of Lamentation.
* * *
Mammon hadn’t said much since Luke found him. All he knew was that Mammon wanted to take him on a trip. Turned out it was a trip the human world. They walked through a crowded mall. Christmas music blasted through the speakers. Decorations were plastered in every shop’s window and hung from the ceiling. Humans traversed the narrow walkways with arms full of shopping bags. Several times, large, heavy bags smacked into him. Afraid of being lost in the sea of people, Luke instinctively grabbed onto Mammon’s hand. At one point, Mammon stopped at a kiosk to order a couple of hot chocolates and then proceeded to lead Luke to an empty bench where he invited Luke to take a seat beside him.
“Mammon? Why are we here?” Confusion coated his voice but still eagerly accepted the cup of cocoa Mammon offered him.
Mammon stared out over the railing toward the Santa Claus photo station. The area was set up to resemble the human vision of Santa Claus’ house in the North Pole. A long line of families stood waiting for a chance to sit in the jolly old man’s lap, ramble off a list of desires, and capture a commemorative photo of the occasion. Mammon snorted lightly at the infants who screamed at the top of their lungs over the whole ordeal. Luke side-eyed Mammon, wondering if he even heard his question.
“See that man down there?” he asked, pointing to the man in the red suit. “That’s your Santa Claus.”
Luke frowned. He should have known that Mammon brought him here just to mock him. Luke moved to get up and leave only to have a strong hand grab his shoulder, encouraging him to stay put. A reluctant huff flared through his nostrils, but Luke remained seated.
“There’s hundreds of these guys throughout the world who take time from their personal life to indulge in these children’s whims. So yeah, Belphie was right. There ain’t no Santa. Not really. Not anymore. However, those kids down there believe he’s real and those men help keep that magic.”
“Why?”
Mammon shrugged and made a sound that resembled “I don’t know.”
“Tradition, maybe. I honestly don’t give a shit about their reasons. But I do wantcha to watch this Santa. He’s my personal favorite. Come to see him every year.”
Luke quirked his eyebrow at the comment. Mammon stayed quiet with a content smile and occasionally sipped on his hot chocolate. The young angel turned his attention back to the Santa and strained to hear the children’s wishes. He couldn’t hear all of them but he did pick up on wishes for new dolls, bicycles, gaming consoles, cell phones, and so on. Luke frowned at the materialistic requests of the human children. No wonder Mammon enjoyed observing this display.
“Mammon, I want to leave.”
“Not yet.”
“But, you’ve made your point. Santa is just the human symbol of greed. I get it. Now let’s go home.”
Luke shot up to his feet, ready to march off without Mammon if necessary. However, a child’s voice captured his attention. Soft and sorrowful. The words uttered were simple but seemingly impossible to fulfill.
“My mommy’s sick,” the boy explained. “She’s in the hospital. I just want her home for Christmas and for he to not be sick anymore.”
“That’s a big wish from such a pure heart,” Santa responded. “It’s not a simple wish to grant, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“I don’t understand,” Luke turned around to face Mammon. His eyes darted around trying to process the man in the red suit’s intentions. “That’s a miracle he can’t grant.”
Mammon stood up, placed a hand on Luke’s back, and guided him to the railing, gazing down at the scene.
“Look very carefully, Luke. Tell me whatcha see.”
Luke squinted his eyes while studying the area. The child in the man’s lap. The photographer urging the child to smile even though he appeared to be on the verge of tears. After the boy finally slid off Santa’s lap, an elf intercepted the child and spoke with him while jotting down information into a little notebook. She hadn’t done that with the previous children.
“What’s the elf doing?”
Mammon smiled as he rested his elbows onto the railing.
“Before I get into that, tell me, what do ya know about Saint Nicholas?”
“Uh…,” Luke began to rack his brain for information but came up with nothing. “He’s the same as Santa. Like that’s his other name.”
“Ah, for fu---goodness’ sake. What’s Michael been teaching ya kids?” His brows knitted together while he took a few calming breaths before resuming the conversation. “Saint Nicholas was a Christian man from a long time ago.”
Mammon tried to calculate exactly how long ago, but then decided the detail was not important.
“He was an orphan. Now, he was actually pretty lucky ‘cause he inherited some wealth. Being the selfless guy that he was, he actually spread his wealth to others, including providing gifts to the poor, especially to children.”
Mammon’s fond and seemingly longing smile was not lost to Luke.
“Did you know him?”
Mammon’s eyes shifted to meet Luke’s gaze and nodded. “Yeah, I did. I was already a demon by the time I met him, but he reminded me a lot of my days back as an angel. Kinda pissed me off but made me admire him as well.”
Luke stayed quiet, not sure what to say. He wasn’t used to seeing any other side to the cocky, brash, scheming, and often rude demon. Fortunately for him, Mammon enjoyed talking and thus the tense silence didn’t last long.
“The figure known as Santa is based off of Saint Nicholas. Ya know, Christmas is s’pose to be the season of giving. Santa is that symbol. The jolly old man who delivers gifts to the children. Along the way parents used it as a tool to control behavior, telling them that Santa won’t leave gifts for the naughty kids. Not sure if that actually ever occurs, but there is no magical man invading homes, but parents leaving gifts under the tree. But this guy,” Mammon nudged his head toward the Santa. “He’s kinda different. I’ve been observing him for a few years now. He’s a very wealthy guy. Every Christmas he does this Santa gig and his daughter is that elf over there. When a kid asks for something selfless, like that boy with the sick mom, he gets their information and he works to help those families.”
“How?”
“Well, in this case, he’s probably gonna pay the mom’s hospital bills. Depending on what she’s sick with, may help arrange specialized treatment. He’s bought homes for poor families. All sorts of stuff. He’s the closest you’re gonna get to a real Santa Claus nowadays. And he ain’t the only one. There are many people who do random acts of kindness. They all carry that spirit of what Saint Nicholas stood for. So, Santa is real and not at the same time. Make sense?”
Luke mulled over Mammon’s words, digesting it down in bits. Finally, he smiled and nodded. A weight was taken off his chest as he continued to watch the Santa smile for a picture with a girl that now occupied his lap. They watched the endless string of people for several more minutes until they both had finished their chocolatey beverage.
“Ready to head back?”
Luke silently nodded and followed Mammon out of the mall.
* * *
Letting out a yawn, Mammon dragged himself out of bed to get ready for school. The only motivation that actually got his ass moving was the threat of Beel eating all of the breakfast and Mammon preferred not to start his day on an empty stomach. After getting dressed and completing his hygiene routine, he opened the door and was greeted by a light blue, snowflake covered gift bag. Picking up the bag, he read “from: Luke” on the little tag that was attached to the handle. Inside he found a nicely wrapped bag of frosted sugar cookies. A small smile pulled on his lips as he continued to dig though the contents. A small woven bracelet with a dollar sign charm, resembling what MC called a friendship bracelet. At least homemade jewelry shouldn’t be cursed this time, right? Lastly, a greeting card with a photograph of Luke dressed as an elf at a mall’s Santa Claus station enclosed inside. Hold on, that wasn’t any random mall Santa. That was Mammon’s mall Santa! He removed the photo from the card so he could read Luke’s message.
“Dear Mammon,
I’ve been thinking a lot about that day you took me to the mall. I came to realize that you’re right. While there isn’t a singular magical man delivering presents, there are people who are doing his work throughout the season and even throughout the year. So, thank you for helping me find the magic of Christmas again.
Merry Christmas,
Luke”
Mammon placed the note and cookies in his room so he could savor them later (and away from Beel) and then slid the homemade bracelet onto his wrist. He smirked at the best revenge against Belphie’s heartless mockery Luke could possibly have mustered. Mammon’s heart swelled with pride at the possibility that Luke may inherit the mantle of being the next angel of charity, not that the demon would ever admit that out loud.