yes, michele, there is a santa claus

we lived in the country
when i was in first and
second grades.
mariaville, ny
was the name of the town.
i've been back there since
and it's not that far away
from schenectady,
where i grew up,
but back then
it seemed far
far
far away.
our school was about a mile
(felt like ten)
from home
and there was a general store
down the road that sold
penny candy and
and rubber worms and
baseball cards
and really what else
is there when you're seven?
girls in pigtails?
there were also always lots of
motorcycles vrooming by
driven by men
in black leather
and women who held on tight
with their long hair flowing
behind them.
sometimes the locals
would yell out,
"show us your tits!"
and they would,
but that's for another time.

our house
was a wobbly ranch-style affair,
white with yellow trim,
at the top of a gravel road.
at the bottom was a lake
filled with carp
and neighborhood kids
and casted lines.
in the summertime
wild strawberries popped up
in the grass around our house
and in the winter it was quiet.
i read sherlock holmes stories
and tried not to knock
into the kerosene heater.

that first christmas
santa came.
i don't know how or why
but that's the story
they keep telling me.
my sister michele awoke
in the middle of the night
to use the bathroom
and swears
to this day!
that she saw santa claus
dressed in his red suit
stacking presents
under our tree.

the next day
there was a carrot
on the kitchen table
bearing the imprint of teeth
and sled marks in the otherwise
untouched snow outside.
but i'd been reading holmes
so i knew to be skeptical
of such things.
the one thing i can't
disprove to this day
is that my sister still
claims she saw santa
himself
in the jolly flesh
crouched under our tree.
might my step-dad have dressed
up for the occasion?
possibly.
but bill loved elvis, too--
how many fictional characters
can one man believe in?

this year
i'm going to ask michele
to recount her tale again.
there must be something
i'm missing,
a hole in her story.

after all,
we had to move the next year
because things didn't work out
in mariaville.
if there was a
santa, he couldn't
fit happiness under the tree,
i guess.