St. Claws

By Alan Nayes

Things are not going well for Matt Haskel. He's lost his job and the chance at his dream home, and can't even buy the one Christmas gift his son desires. His marriage is teetering, and the last thing Matt wants to do is spend Christmas Eve with his wealthy in-laws.

But while driving there, the family SUV breaks down just outside a quaint little town called St. Claws, high in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

This last mishap convinces Matt this will be his worst Christmas ever. Little does he know just how wrong initial impressions can be. Or how consequential one little, innocuous wish can become.

Happy holidays, Matt Haskel. You're about to find out!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan Nayes
• Release date: Oct 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301732395

Alan Nayes

Alan Nayes is the author of numerous novels and short stories. He resides in Southern California. Please visit www.anayes.com for a complete list of his novels. Thank you.

Book preview

Books by Alan Nayes

BARBARY POINT

GARGOYLES ( Resurrection Trilogy, Book One)

PLAGUE (Resurrection Trilogy, Book Two)

THE UNNATURAL

SMILODON

GIRL BLUE

RETURN TO UNDERLAND

HEMLOCK POND

THE LEARNER (Book One of the Learner Series)

Acknowledgments

I wish to thank the following persons, who generously lent their time and/or expertise to this story:

Heather Marie Adkins

Tamra Westberry

P J Jones

Christine LePorte

Authors of The Eclective

Happy and safe holidays to everyone!

That includes you, Santa.

St. Claws

Matt Haskel glanced at the sheet of paper filled with one-line fortunes. Today buy a gift. You will find a lucky wreath. Listen to the reindeer outside your window.

Where’d Gino find this clown? he mumbled to himself. Impatiently, he read the remaining fortunes and pushed the sheet aside. For some reason, the last one seemed to crawl under his skin. When the elves come to your home, let them in.

Suwyn, he called toward the open door. His office was directly upstairs from the plant where FAR WEST FORTUNE COOKIES were manufactured. He waited a moment and shouted louder. Suwyn. The man had been hired a few weeks ago and was supposed to be only a consultant—at least that’s what Gino Pellete, the owner, had told him.

When no one appeared, Matt rose. He took a step toward the plant entrance just as a thin Asian man rushed into his office.

The shorter man bowed. Yes, sir? he said deferentially.

Matt motioned him in. Suwyn, sit, please. He returned to his desk and waited for the consultant to take a chair. The man remained standing.

Matt continued to stare at the man. Sit. We have to talk.

I stand.

Whatever. Matt slipped the paper in front of him. Suwyn, what are these?

Fortunes.

Fortunes? ‘Buy a gift,’ ‘lucky wreaths,’ ‘reindeer’? Where is the material I’ve been writing—people want to read about the stock market, winning the lottery, hell, getting laid. Did the consultant just blush? Matt shook his head.

Suwyn grinned. Mine poplar in China.

We aren’t in China. Matt lifted the paper, wincing. Heck, the man couldn’t even speak proper English. Elves?

It Christmas time soon, Mr. Matt.

Matt almost said I don’t give a flip about Christmas, but held his tongue. He forced a smile. "Suwyn, FAR WEST ships our product all over the world. We need fortunes that will be relevant well into the new year—not just during the holidays. Our shelf life is nine months. Wreaths, elves?"

The consultant just stood there with a big grin. Matt scowled. Why was everyone so damn happy this time of year? Momentarily, Matt sensed he was being laughed at. Just leave, I’ll write another batch, he said quickly, before he became angry.

Suwyn bowed and said, They good, yes, Mr. Matt?

And this was Mr. Pellete’s consultant? Matt nodded weakly. I’ll take care of the one-liners for this shipment.

The man bowed and then stepped out.

Matt crumpled up the paper, then tossed the discarded fortunes in the trash can with a nice hook shot just as the interplant phone buzzed. He noted the blinking light. Now what did the boss want?

He punched the button. Hi, Mr. Pellete.

Matt, I need to have a word with you.

Sir, I’m having a little issue with that new consultant—

That can wait.

Suddenly, Matt didn’t like the boss’s tone. You mean now, sir?

Now.

* * * *

Matt sat sullenly in his cramped apartment living room watching the reruns from last weekend’s football games. How could December go to shit so fast? One day he’s running the design and shipping department of an up-and-coming southern California confectionary company and the next he’s home sulking in front of his computer creating résumés and sending them out by the boatload.

He sipped some more of his beer—his fourth of the day and it wasn’t even mid-afternoon yet. Things weren’t looking good. No job, holiday bills threatening to inundate the Haskel household, and the biggest blow—his and Jenny’s loan application had been rejected once the bank discovered he’d joined the ranks of the unemployed.