Twelve Hours of Christmas

hour ten-in which they write letters to Santa

"I'm bored." Lewis complains.

"Then go home." Henry says. 

"I don't want to." Lewis says. 

"So you'd prefer to stay here with me?' Henry asks. 

"I never said that. All I said was that I didn't want to go back to the care home."

"Are they even looking for you?" Henry asks. 

"I have no clue. I left my phone back there. I haven't seen anyone out looking for me. Maybe someone has seen me but they've seen me with you and assumed that I was with a friend."

"But you've been gone at least nine hours."

"Like I said, they've probably assumed you're my friend and that I'm possibly staying the night." 

"That's pretty stupid. What if I'd kidnapped you instead?"

"I think they would have known."

"How do they know I've not done that now?"

"Because you haven't."

"Haven't I?" Henry says. Lewis gives him a look and then looks away again. It is pretty strange that the care home hasn't come looking for him. He's been missing for hours and maybe no one has seen him with Henry so how could they even know? They might have called the police! Lewis now wishes that he had brought his phone with him so that he could at least call the home to let them know where he was. 

"Have you written a letter to Santa yet?" Henry asks out of the blue.

"A letter to Santa?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'"

"It's a bit late, isn't it; to be writing a letter to Santa? It's Christmas Eve."

"And? He might still get it in time!"

"In the two hours until midnight?"

"Okay, maybe not. You should still write one, though. If you leave one out for him for when he gets there he knows exactly what presents are yours."

"Surely he knows that already."

"Maybe he does. We'll never know. You'll just have to assume that he doesn't know which are your presents because you haven't written to him, that's why everyone has to write at least a list to Santa. He'll see the list or the letter and know which presents are yours so that he can label them and it makes it easier for him to deliver them."

"You're pretty clued up about the workings of Santa to say that he doesn't exist." Lewis says. 

"Santa does exist!" 

"I've heard the care workers putting the presents under the tree." Lewis says. 

"That's Santa and his elves." 

"I've heard them speaking."

"They mimic the care workers' voices to make it sound like it is them as they don't want to ruin their secret." 

"Okay, whatever you say."

"I'm telling the truth!"

"Sure you are." 

"Are you going to then?"

"Am I going to what?"

"Write a letter to Santa?"

"Must I?" 

"Yes! If you want Santa to come you have to write him a letter. You need to apologise for not writing and sending it before then otherwise he'll be offended."

"If you insist." 

Henry fishes out some more paper and two pens as Lewis sits back down at the dining room table. "Haven't you written yours?"

"I have, I just want to show you what to do." Henry says. Lewis shrugs. He starts to write. 

Dear Santa, 

I'm sorry that I haven't written to you before now and I know it is Christmas Eve but I had the slight problem of not believing in you and thanks to my dear friend Henry, I now have the possibility of believing you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be writing this now. Henry is looking at me now telling me to say sorry again so: I'm sorry. Below is the list of presents that I have asked for this year but know that I will never get because no one I know can ever afford that and I doubt my parents will cough up the money to buy me one. They never do. They did when I was little but that was then. Anyway, you don't want the sob story, you want to know what I've asked for for Christmas as Henry says that you won't know unless I write to you. For Christmas I would like: 

Lewis looks up from his writing. He has already written a full page of letter paper. He shows it to Henry who is obviously trying to read it upside down. "You didn't need to be so sarcastic." 

"I am sarcastic." Lewis replies.

"List what you wanted for Christmas, then." Henry says. Lewis scribbles a few things down but he doesn't really know what to put. He's never written to Santa and he has never expected anything big and he doesn't want to sound really selfish. There are people out there who are worse off than him. Finally, he writes one more thing and quickly writes: 

I hope at least I get some of these things, especially the last one. 

Thanks, I guess, 

Lewis.

He folds the paper up and Henry passes him an envelope. Lewis puts the letter inside and seals it. He hands it to Henry who gets up and puts it on the end table next to the sofa in the living room. "There, Santa will find it now and know what presents to give you."

"But I won't be here when he comes." Lewis says. 

"Well, you said you didn't want to go back to the home. You can stay here if you want." Henry says. 

"Nah, I should probably get back soon. I don't want to cause a massive heart attack for the care workers because they think I've gone missing."

"Maybe they think your parents have taken you?"

"And why would my parents have taken me?"

"I don't know." Henry says. "I don't know your parents."

"You don't want to." Lewis mumbles.