Peanut seemed completely oblivious to how much bigger Saint Nicholas was than his sad, little not-so-jolly—self.He stepped forward and jabbed the larger man in his chest.“Listen.I am Santa Claus.”
Saint Nicholas frowned down at where Peanut had poked him, then looked back at the smaller man.Did Peanut really think he was going to win this fight?He barely came up to the larger, younger man’s chin.
“You’re also drunk,” Saint Nick said.“I think you need to head home.”
Peanut clearly wasn’t taking that as an answer.This time, rather than just a poke, he shoved Saint Nicholas hard.Even though irate Peanut had just jabbed him in the chest, Saint Nicholas seemed surprised by the sudden attack and stumbled backward, nearly tripping on his velvet cape.But he caught himself before he lost his footing completely.And now he was clearly furious.Even through his perfect white beard, I could see the grim set of his jaw.
“I’m giving you one more warning.You need to move along.”
In response, Peanut balled up his fist and wound up to punch the man.His drunken state made his movements awkward and clumsy, which this time gave Saint Nicholas plenty of time to sidestep the attack.
Rather than connecting with his target, Peanut stumbled forward and smashed into the beautiful front of the Opulent Occasions’ booth.Several platters of elegantly displayed finger foods clattered to the ground.Peanut pitched forward and tried to catch himself, ripping down much of the evergreen boughs as he fell.
“What the—” Brad shouted, rushing over to the damaged booth.
To my surprise, instead of running after Brad, Ashley ran toward Saint Nick.Before I could figure out what was going on, Cameron pushed through the gathered crowd, drawing my attention toward him.
“Everyone, let’s head over to the front of the lawn where we have a puppet show going on,” he called out loudly.He pointed in the direction back down the alley of booths.
The gawking crowd glanced at him, most of them looking puzzled.
“A puppet show?”a man in a John Deere cap and a Red Sox t-shirt who I recognized from the occasional visit to Steamy’s said, confused.“They don’t have fried dough, but they have a puppet show.What is this world coming to?”
The lady beside him shook her head and shrugged.“This is a weird festival, that’s for sure.”
They also didn’t move, still watching Peanut, who flopped around on the ground like a largemouth bass as he tried to get his bulky body up onto his feet.Peppermints fell from somewhere out of his dingy Santa suit.Oliver appeared behind Cameron.He had the juggler with him, who was now tossing five shiny apples and a pineapple up in the air.
“Folks,” Oliver said with a smile that looked forced, “let’s follow our wonderful juggler here to the show.You’re going to want to see this.It is an authentic Punch and Judy show like the ones that were popular in Victorian England.”
“I’m not your puppet,” Peanut stopped rolling around long enough to shout.
“Is Santa okay?”the little boy asked his mother.
“He’s fine.”the woman said, taking her son’s hand.“Let’s go see the puppets!”
A few other families followed Oliver and the juggler.But plenty stayed to continue watching the real life drama.
Dave leaned onto the counter beside me.“Wait until they see the puppet show.”
I shot him a confused look.“Have you seen it?”
Dave shook his head.“No.But if it’s a Punch and Judy show, they’re going from watching Santas beat each other up to watching puppets beat each other up.”He sighed, then took a sip of his Elf-tini.“Man, Victorian England is really violent.”
I gave him another glance, then turned my attention back to Ashley and the out-of-town Santa.She was talking to him quietly, clearly trying to calm him down.
Did she know him?Or was she just trying to help?
“Get that imposter out of here,” Peanut shouted from his place still on the ground, then he shrieked like a horror movie heroine as Jack ambled over, catching scent of the peppermints on the ground.“What is that?What is that?”
Jack ignored his screams, scooping up a peppermint in his lips.
George caught Jack’s lead, and Dougie moved to help the little man to his feet.Peanut wobbled but managed to keep upright.
“Who let this drunk in here?”Saint Nick called out to Cameron and Oliver.A sneer twisted his face as he looked at the still blustering local.“Gethimout of here.Or I’ll leave and you can have this pathetic, inebriated loser entertain your visitors.”
“Nick,” Ashley cajoled the tall, velvet-clad man.
Was she calling him Nick because that was who he was dressed up as or did she know his name?There was a familiarity between them.
