Christmas . . . 1951

He had a white beard and a twinkle in his eye. He’d pulled up in his red pickup, right behind my bullet nosed Ford.

It was late. I was on my way home for Christmas. Even had presents for mom and dad on the back seat. What I needed right then was a replacement for the damn radiator hose that had split.

Without a word he set to work: pulled in front and hooked a sturdy chain from his truck’s bed from bumper to bumper. Quickly we were on our way to the next open service station.

Seated in the cab with him we finally introduced ourselves and did the usual eyeballing. There I was in my scrungy travel jeans and a “Happy Holidays” red sweatshirt. My saint in the red pickup was obviously on his way to a party . . . where he was to play Santa Claus.

He’d stuffed his white trimmed red coat and hat behind the seats when we got in. But, I was sure that beard was real. The rest was real too: beefy arms, a chest that stretched his tee under those red suspenders and thighs that strained the material in his pants. No fat, just a healthy line backer’s body. Prime!!

Suddenly I was wishing for more than a new radiator hose. As if he read my mind he patted my arm. “We can both take a break while they fix your car, right?” One look, our eyes locked, my tongue stuck to the top of my mouth. I nodded.

We dropped off my car. They were just closing, but promised to get it fixed first thing in the morning. He pulled into a motel across the street and checked us in. It was my first time with anyone older than my Grad School roommate. My Santa’s body was hard as a rock but his hands . . . soft as silk. He didn’t force anything, let it flow naturally. I was shivering in ecstasy within five minutes. Time flew.

In the morning we shook hand goodbye outside the station. He gave me a nod, lay his finger up side of his nose and crawled in his ‘sleigh’. And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight “Merry Christmas, my boy, it was a very good night!”

I quit believing in Santa when I was 7. But, now, I believe again!!

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