Writing -- No way in

The following short story appeared in the 2004 edition of the annual Christmas Magazine The Holly Bough, a Cork institution that has been required reading in the City and County for decades. The Holly Bough is published by The Evening Echo, one of Ireland's leading regional, daily newspapers.

Blue lights flashing and sirens blaring two fire engines arrived on the scene. It was a spectacle that six-year-old Ellen O'Connor wouldn't forget in a hurry. She watched wide-eyed as the bright-red engines screeched to a stop outside number 42 - her house - and the firemen in their jet-black fire suits and bright yellow helmets jumped out.

"Mr O'Connor?" the fire officer called to nobody in particular.

"Yes, that's me," Ellen's father answered. "It's the chimney. A neighbour spotted the smoke and raised the alarm. I don't know how bad it is but thought it was better to be safe. We put the fire out in grate, but the chimney's been smoking for a few hours now."

"You did the right thing calling us. It sounds like your chimney's on fire. Don't worry, my men should have things under control pretty soon."

Ellen didn't know what all the fuss was about. There was a lot of thick black smoke billowing out of their chimney, but she was fairly sure that was what chimneys were for. Didn't smoke come out of everybody's chimney? She needed answers.

"Daddy?" she asked. After all, he always had the answers.

"Yes Ellen?" there was an edge to her father's voice, a tension that she wasn't usually there. It unnerved her.

"Daddy, why is the fire-engine here? Isn't smoke supposed to come out of the chimney?" she asked.

"Yes darling, of course it is… it's just that our chimney's caught fire on the inside, the firemen are here to put it out," he explained, never taking his eyes of the spectacle unfolding before him.

"Oh," Ellen said, turning her attention back to the commotion at the house. Quite a crowd was gathering now, tempted to brave the winter's chill to see what all the commotion was about. Nothing much ever happened in this part of town and a fire engine in the run-up to Christmas constituted high drama.

The fire officer was back. "Mr O'Connor."

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid the chimney has become unstable. It's not safe so we'll have to bring it down before we can put the fire out," the fire officer's voice was even and dispassionate. To him this was just another chimney… but to Ellen, listening to the conversation, it was much, much more. They were going to pull down the chimney… to her house… this week. Did they know what they were suggesting? Were they mad? This was the week before Christmas. Didn't they know how vital chimneys were at this time of year? "No!" she heard someone scream, and then realised that the sound was coming from her own mouth.

The fire officer, her father and her mother all turned to face the little girl. "Ellen, it's okay baby," her mother stooped down and put her arms around Ellen's neck. "The firemen will have the fire out soon and we'll be able to go back in the house."

"No mummy, you don't understand, they're going to pull down the chimney. I heard that man say that they're going to. Tell him they can't do it!"

"But dear the chimney's on fire. It's not safe. They have to pull it down so that they can put the fire out."

"But mummy they just can't!" Ellen sobbed. She could feel tears brimming at the corners of her eyes and blinked them back.

"Why ever not dear?"

"Because of Santa! Santa won't come to our house if there's no chimney!" there, now they would understand. Nobody could possibly contemplate pulling down her chimney when Santa was scheduled to drop down it in three days time. It just wasn't going to happen.

And then it happened! Ellen looked on in horror as two firemen sporting sledge-hammers climbed onto the roof. Supported by safety harnesses they swung the heavy hammers relentlessly into the burning chimney. It didn't take them long for them to reduce it to a small pile of smouldering rubble beside the house. Ellen's mother tried to console her daughter, but it was no use. The little girl was beside herself.

Once the unstable part of the chimney was down putting out the fire was a formality. It was over in no time, the fire engines were gone and the gathered crowd dissipated even faster than it had formed. Before long the only signs that anything had happened at number 42 at all was a curious-looking roof with a gap where a chimney had once stood, a small pile of fresh rubble sitting beside the house and, for those with acute hearing, the muffled sounds of a little girl crying into her pillow late into the night.

Ellen was up bright and early the next morning. The first thing she did was run out to the front garden and look up at the roof. It hadn't been a nightmare… the chimney really was gone! Dismayed she ran back into the house, up the stairs and threw herself onto her bed, sobbing. She had no chimney and Christmas was just around the corner. How was Santa going to deliver her 'Baby Supreme All-In-One set with Matching Backpack and Accessories' if he couldn't come down the chimney? It was a disaster, that's what it was.

"Ellen, come and have your breakfast," her mother called.

"I don't want to," she replied sulkily in between sobs.

"Ellen O'Connor, you stop this nonsense right now. The chimney is gone: get used to the idea. Santa will come anyway, you'll see. Now come down for breakfast."

Ellen knew it was no good arguing with her mother when she used that tone of voice. She got up and trudged downstairs. Better to play along and stay out of trouble, but inside she was seething about the chimney. She'd told them not to knock it down, but they'd gone ahead and done it anyway. It was always the same. Nobody was interested in your opinion when you were six. That was the trouble with adults: they were always too busy to listen and always thought they knew best. Well, this time they'd gone too far.

She ate her breakfast sullenly, barely uttering a word. Once she'd finished she was about to leave the table when her mother said: "Come on young lady, we're going out." Ellen didn't want to go anywhere, but her mother had used that voice again. She went to get her coat.

Through the rain-flecked window of the car the day looked dark and dreary: a perfect reflection of Ellen's mood. Lost in her morose little world she didn't notice where they were going… didn't even care.

"Come on misery guts, get out," her mother said. Ellen suddenly realised that they'd stopped. They were in the Roche's Stores car park at Merchant's Quay. Ellen undid her seatbelt, waited for her mother to open her door and slid out of the car.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You'll see," was all the reply she got as her mother grabbed her hand and led her towards the entrance to the shopping centre. They got the lift to the first floor… which was unusual. When they parked here her mother tended to go straight to the ground floor and head off around town before coming back to Merchants Quay to finish off her shopping. Where could they be heading?

It wasn't exactly a winter wonderland. In a corner of the first floor, decorated with all sorts of Christmas paraphernalia, including fake snow and toy reindeers, was what looked suspiciously like a garden shed. A long line of eager children and their less enthusiastic looking parents snaked from the entrance. Ellen's mother joined the end of the line.

"Mummy, why are you bringing me to see Santa again?" she'd been here last week with Nana and Granddad, her mother knew that. Santa already knew what she wanted for Christmas.

"Well, I thought you could explain about the chimney, and between you that you and Santa could come up with a solution."

Ellen thought about this for a minute. It seemed to make sense. If Santa knew about the chimney situation ahead of time he would be prepared for it. They could make alternative arrangements. She felt the dark cloud that had fogged her brain since the chimney's collapse lift and her mood brightened. She hugged her mother's leg. "Thank you Mummy, you're brilliant!" Her mother just smiled.

Santa remembered Ellen from her earlier visit. "And what brings you back to see me Ellen?" he asked in his deep, jolly voice. Just being near him put Ellen in an even better mood, and she somehow knew that it was all going to be alright. She explained about the chimney, and Santa listened - not half listening like most adults, he actually gave her his undivided attention.

"Well now, that is a dilemma. It's a good thing you came to see me about it. I tell you what, I'll get one of the elves to work on a special magic spell that will get me into your house without the need for a chimney. How's that?" Santa asked.

Ellen beamed. It was the coolest thing she'd ever heard… Santa was going to use a special spell just to get into her house. She threw her arms around Santa's thick neck and snuggled into his long white beard for a long moment before she let go.

"Thank you Santa," she said, certain that this was going to be the best Christmas ever.