D A Novel (George Right) - By George Right Page 0,47
who had brought them... Greg, of course, understood that those dudes in red suits with false beards in a supermarket or a school performance at Christmastime were only disguised human beings. Officially they were called assistants of Santa Claus–well, this proved nothing, as priests are called attendants of god, too. But the real Santa Claus was also shown time and again on TV; he had a house in Lapland, and it was possible to write a letter there and even to receive an answer. Greg hadn't written, but saw with his own eyes such an answer which one of his schoolmates bragged about.
And if it were only broadcasts for children! Greg understood that in such programs everything could be shown. But quite serious, adult newscasts reported that Santa Claus had taken off from Lapland! The permission for his sleigh to fly over U.S. territory was issued by the Federal Aviation Administration! Its movement through airspace was traced by NORAD! And NORAD, gentlemen–it is very serious. Even more serious than the civil aviation agency. It is the North American Aerospace Defense Command, those guys who sit in the superstrengthened bunker deep under the Rocky Mountains and watch for Russian or Chinese nuclear missiles launched towards America–and, in this worst case, will strike back in time. From such people, one doesn't expect kidding! And nevertheless–Greg saw himself in the news how on their radar, the very same radar which separates peace from nuclear war, crawled a mark with the inscription "Santa"!
And there was more to come. All adults, even those who were very skeptical about everything shown on TV (such as, for example, the Primes' neighbor Mr. Stevens), confirmed the existence of Santa Claus. About god they didn't have the same unanimity. Even the elementary school teacher carefully noted that some people believed in god and some not, and there was no strict proof of either position, so it was necessary to listen to mum and daddy and also to your own heart (this mendacious expression enraged Greg–he wanted to shout out: "The heart is simply a muscle that pumps blood!") But about the reality of Santa Claus she spoke absolutely categorically.
And, of course, Greg's schoolmates believed in Santa, too. They, however, weren't an authoritative source in any way. Unless only in the matters of female anatomy–some of them considered themselves adult enough to look at pictures of naked ladies in the boy's toilet. Once they allowed Greg to look too, and he definitely could not understand what they found interesting in it. Well, he was, of course, surprised that women don't have a cock, but he could see that in the first photo–so why examine all the others so attentively? In general, his schoolmates remained the same stupid savages they were as toddlers when they believed in witches and sorcerers. They only increased in size and thus became more harmful and more dangerous.
His schoolmates were the second thing on Gregory Prime's personal hate list. He was a straight-A student in all subjects except sports, and that speaks for itself. The other boys rarely condescended to such mercifulness as demonstrating forbidden photos to him. Much more often they exercised in persecution of the "egghead," "geek," "nerd," and "four-eyes" who couldn't hit them back. Their mockery was as stupid and primitive as they themselves, but for some reason still very hurtful. The brainless pithecanthropes who did not even know the word "pithecanthrope!" But Greg had to adapt. He had not to show how much he despised them, even to simulate friendship with some of them. Thus, he had to lie, and for this he hated them even more. And all this still didn't save him completely. Only provided intervals of calm life between days when they remembered again their joyous pastime, "make Greg Prime cry." And after that his so-called "friends," just as if nothing had happened, called him again to play their primitive games. And he did.
But the schoolmates were still not the worst problem. This problem was extremely unpleasant and plaguing his life, yes. But at the same time–clear, explainable, terrestrial, material. They undermined his everyday comfort, but not the basis of the universe.
Gifts-giving Santa was much more terrible. He was an embodiment–and, strictly speaking, the only authentically known embodiment–of everything magic, mystical, illogical, supernatural, antiscientific, irrational.
In short, Santa Claus embodied that which Gregory Prime hated most of all.
"Three," John summed up, "three most probable candidates. I admit, I expected that it would be only one. I didn't think that there