Evan nodded slightly. The coffee in his hand was getting lukewarm, way past how he liked it, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. Standing in front of the window of the break room in Lawton Chilles Elementary School, he stared at the little silver bell hanging on the staff’s Christmas tree.
“So let me get this straight,” said Evan as he took another sip. (Damn, it tasted like porridge now.) “So, okay… So you take a train to the North Pole. And you meet Santa Claus himself. And so Santa says to you, directly, that you can have anything in the world. Anything at all. So instead of asking for world peace or the cure for AIDS or some shit, or asking for super powers or x-ray vision, or, like, a trillion dollars, or something… You ask for a fucking sleighbell?”
“A silver sleighbell,” said Joe before his face returned to his arms, folded on the table.
“A silver sleighbell,” said Evan, almost taking another sip. “And it doesn’t even work. That’s the best story I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Anyway, back to work.”
As Evan tossed the coffee away, part of the cup brushed the tree. The branches swayed, and with that, the silver bell rang. Only Joe could hear it.
