“Quiet is right,” Hawk agreed. “This place is a ghost town.”
“That’s good for us,” Booker said. “The cops haven’t seemed to notice this being here, so we can simply take it back without getting law enforcement or anyone else involved.”
“Merry Christmas,” I replied.
He smiled. “Ho, ho, ho.”
“Now, how the fuck are we gonna get in the cab?” Knight asked.
“How did they get out?” Ace whispered.
“You’re wondering that too, huh?” I asked.
“Sunroof?” Booker said.
Hawk piped up, “You don’t s’pose they’re still in there, do you?”
We all looked at each other and in unison responded, “Shit.”
“Hatch, you and Hawk go around the block, to the other end of the alley and make your way back toward us,” Booker said. “I’ll boost Ace up to the top of the truck in case anyone tries to leave via the sunroof. Knight and I’ll cover the rear in case this is all a trap.”
“Got it,” I said, and Hawk and I broke out in a slow jog around the block. The crisp night air felt good in my lungs, and it helped cool me from the burning surge of adrenaline. God knows who or what we’d find at the other end of the alley, but I tried to prepare myself for anything.
As we made our way down the alley, I could barely make out the truck’s grill, reflected in what little light was being cast. I gripped my gun tightly, preparing myself physically and mentally for what I may be forced to do to defend myself. I sure hoped it wouldn’t come down to anything drastic. Gunplay at Christmastime just didn’t seem right.
“I can see Ace on the roof,” Hawk said as we got closer.
I signaled to Ace who gave us a thumbs-up in response. We slowly approached the front of the truck and I tried to position myself to get a closer look into the cab. Given its height and precariously wedged position, this would prove difficult to do without detection. Should someone actually be in there, the last thing I wanted them to do was start blasting their way out of the cab, or take off down the alley with me on the hood or Hawk under the wheels.
I stood on some wooden pallets that were stacked to one side of the alley, peered inside the cab, but still couldn’t see anyone inside. Just as I was about to hop down from my position, something caught my eye giving me pause. Located behind the truck’s seats was a small sleeper compartment, big enough for one person to get some shut eye while out on the road. Although, I couldn’t quite make out a figure, I could see what looked like a large red blanket wadded up on the twin bed. I pulled out my cell phone and turned on the flashlight to get a better look, just as the “blanket” began to move.
“There’s someone inside,” I whispered to Hawk as I ducked out of sight. I turned off the light, and returned the phone back to my pocket.
“What’s the plan?” he whispered back.
“You cover me while I give this fucker a little wakeup call. Get ready to move back in case he’s packing.”
I gently and silently climbed onto the hood, and once in position tapped on the glass with the barrel of my gun.
The large red lump barely stirred. I tapped again, a little more vigorously but the truck’s occupant remained still. I looked up at Ace who gave me a shrug. My eyes had now adjusted to darkness and I was able to make out more details within the tuck. I could clearly see an empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor, next to a string of wadded up Christmas lights.
I gave the window one more tap, and trying to remain as quiet as possible, but loud enough for the thief to hear me, said, “Wake up, fucker, we’ve got you surrounded.” This finally got his attention. He shot out of bed, hitting his head squarely on the cab’s ceiling, sending him straight back to the mattress, and wincing in pain.
“Put your hands where I can see ’em,” I said a little louder.
“What the fuck, man? What the hell is going on here?” he asked as he sat up, clearly in a daze.
I could finally see the thief clearly but could barely believe what I was seeing. Santa Claus had stolen our truck.
“Who is it?” Ace called down.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Hey man, where am I?” Santa asked in a half lucid, gravelly tone.
“How about you just put your hands where I can see them and get the fuck out of the truck?” I said again.
“Truck? Why am I in a truck?” he asked while raising his black gloved hands.
“That’s a great question, St. Nick.”
He looked down at the full Santa suit he had on and then back to me with a genuine expression of surprise. “Why am I in a truck, why am I dressed as Santa, and why the fuck are you pointing a gun at me? You a cop?” he asked.
“We can talk about all of this when you get out of our truck. Do you have a weapon in there?”
“A weapon? No man, I—” A wave of realization washed over Santa’s face. “Oh shit, the kids.”
“What kids? Are there children in there with you?” I asked, suddenly very concerned about what psycho Santa might be capable of. For all I knew, this drunken nut job had escaped from the looney bin.
“No, the kids at the shelter,” he said.
“Look, man, you’re not making any sense, and we just want our truck back. Why don’t you come out of there now and we’ll figure this out? How ’bout you slowly make your way to the driver’s seat and open the door.”
“How the hell am I gonna get outta here? I’m pretty jammed in.”
With every passing moment, Santa seemed less and less like a dangerous criminal and more like a guy who wasn’t quite sledding with all eight reindeer. I was guessing the empty pint bottle on the floor had much to do with that.
“Hey man, I’m sorry. I’m not even sure how I got here,” he continued.
“You still have the keys?” I asked Santa, as Ace slid down the windshield to join me and Hawk, our guns still drawn.
“What the fuck?” Ace said as he spotted the cab’s jolly occupant.
Santa reeled back and thrust his arms up higher.
“It’s okay, I’ve got this, guys,” I said before returning my attention back to Santa. “The keys? Do you still have them?”
Santa nodded. “Yeah, I think so, they should be in my pocket.”
“Okay, I want you to slowly take the keys out and start up the truck. We’ve got guys behind you, so don’t even think about doing anything stupid or I’ll put a bullet through the windshield. I don’t even care if it gets me on your naughty list.”
Santa did as I asked, and I guided him down the alley until the truck reached a point where he could easily get out.
“Okay, kill the engine and slowly exit the cab with your hands up,” I called out, and as soon as he was out, I had him pinned against the side of the truck with his hands behind his back.
“Hey, c’mon, man, I ain’t gonna hurt nobody,” he said in a slight southern drawl.
“Please forgive me if I don’t quite trust the guy that just boosted a truck full of toys,” I said.
“Toys?” he replied. “Aw, shit. Oh, no,” he said.
“Holy shit! You guys gotta see this!” I heard Knight yell from the rear of the truck.