Sitting in the kitchen of the cozy cottage at the North Pole, staring into a steaming cup of hot chocolate, Santa slammed his time-weathered hand on the wooden table. "That's it! We're retiring!'' Mrs. Claus, startled at his unusual outburst, abandoned her gingerbread men and wiped the flour from her hands. "Have you lost your senses, Nicholas? What ever for???'' she quizzed.

"Because of that'' -- ... he pointed with resignation to the magazine `Surfnet' that lay in front of him. He rubbed his head with his hands. "It's hopeless... I'm completely out of step with the children of this new `Computer World'! "They're light years ahead of me, and I'll never catch up! -- Can't even understand their language anymore -- It's all `yahoo' and `http/www' and `surfing'...`netscaping' and `websites' and this wretched INTERNET! I'm just too old to even begin to comprehend it all. -- These kids all have addresses that look like hieroglyphics...! No use trying to please them. They don't even write letters to me anymore!'' He picked up his Map of the world and perused it. "We should have retired years ago, while we still had time to enjoy ourselves.... But not just anywhere. We've got to find the right spot - where we'll feel like we belong -- a place where time has stood still, -- a place where all this technology hasn't invaded... "Like - Bermuda! - Why didn't I think of it right away? It's one of the few places on earth that is still steeped in good old English traditions. People there still care about each other, and they have unusual customs that are unique and preserved. Why, do you know they even tell the weather by looking at a bottle of shark oil? Some of the old time fishermen can even tell which way the wind is blowing, -- and when it will change -- by reading the oil!'' He looked at some of the Island's brochures and found a Calendar of Events from the Dept. of Tourism. " Look at this! -- The Bermuda National Trust is having it's Christmas Open House and Walkabout in St. George's on December 1st! -- Perfect time to see the Island and look for a place to settle.'' He looked fondly at some of the photos in his memory album; -- people riding pedal bikes to work every morning, friendly, smiling faces... "We can walk to the beaches and look for shells and messages in bottles, or walk along the old railway trail to watch birds and collect wild flowers and stop for tea. Tea rooms are coming back, I hear.

There's one right under the Lighthouse and a Victorian one, called `Mrs. Teas' which will be opening in the new year! I can hardly wait to taste cassava pie and plum pudding again. -- We could stay at one of those quaint bed and breakfast places. "C'mon dear, get some of your woolies ready for the journey! I'll get Rudolph and the small sleigh..'' He put his boots on and stomped excitedly through the snow drifts. The young deer was wakened from his napping in the new-fallen snow near the barn. "Is it Christmas, Santa?'' The man in red shook his head, "No son, but we're going down... This could be our last run...'' his voice trailed. Mrs. Claus dutifully obliged her husband's latest whim and joined him at the barn. It would at least be a chance for her to have a little trip, she surmised. The flight was a bit rocky, as they got caught in a few down drafts over the turbulent north Atlantic, but when they crossed the Gulfstream it eased. Mrs. C. wrapped the blanket tightly around her. The old man's heart fluttered as he caught the first beam of Gibb's Hill Lighthouse, sweeping across the sky. "There she is!'' he squeezed his wife's hand. "You'll love it! Put'er down at Fort St. Catherine, lad.'' They touched down gently on the beach, just about at the same spot where Sir George Somers and the Sea Venture survivors had come ashore in 1609. Santa remembered that blustery Christmas when he had brought seeds and food to the shipwrecked passengers who were trying to eke out the winter. "Let's hide the sleigh in the underbrush, Rudy. We'll go on foot from here.'' Santa sprinkled invisible star dust over the obedient deer. "You can tag along unseen, but I don't think people would take kindly to a deer in their midst.'' It was dark as they approached King's Square, where coloured lights bobbed everywhere. The replica of the Deliverance was bedecked with the holiday spirit, and the houses bustled with spirited volunteers, serving homemade fare to all who walked about. Their appearance was inconspicuous in the crowd, and all that was evident from Rudolph was a faint tinkling of his bells. Merry-making and cheerful spirits abounded and friends greeted each other as they made their way from gaily-decorated shops to the Carriage Museum and the Towne Hall. The pungence of mulled wine wafted from various stopping places. "Isn't it everything I described, dear?'' he remarked excitedly. "Yes, it's charming, -- so warm, ... special,'' she agreed wholeheartedly, impressed that he hadn't exaggerated, as he often did. Quaint old buildings and streets with unusual names were abundant. They followed the crowd, weaving in and out of the decorated houses that had been opened to the public. Carollers in period costumes, sang familiar Yuletide songs,...candles flickered. Rudolph, in his invisible cloak, enjoyed the aroma of cedar fires and the potpourri of smells.

`FOR RENT' - a sign caught their eye as they strolled about. It was displayed on the signpost of a tiny cottage nestled in a secret garden setting, surrounded by a stepping-stone path. Mr. & Mrs. Claus exchanged glances curiously. Moving carefully in the faint light, they reached a vine-covered cedar door with a brass, fox-shaped doorknocker on it. Santa knocked expectantly. There was no response. In the lower apartment next door, a curtain moved aside to reveal two dark eyes that peered inquisitively at them.

They went over to the window, which was slightly raised. "My mom's not home right now. She'll be back in a minute.'' the voice spoke apprehensively, -- not wanting to give entrance to the strangers. "We'll wait here for her, thank you.'' They saw a wooden bench nearby and sat down. Rudy munched on some Bermuda grass. ... -- hmmmnnn, -- rough, but sweet...he thought. "My feet were needing a well-deserved rest anyway,'' the old man offered as they settled. Presently, a young woman in her thirties appeared and put her key in the door to the apartment. "Excuse me, maam..'' she whirled around.

"Ohh...I,'' she spurted ... "I didn't expect anyone to be here!'' The pair approached and explained that they only wanted to see the cottage. She nodded and invited them into the apartment. In the shadows of a lighted candle they saw the nine year old boy whom they had seen at the window. "I bought you some cookies!'' the mother smiled at him. "This is my son, David. I'm Elaine Browne.'' "That cottage was my husband's project. He worked on it in all his spare time. "It was going to be for the three of us, but that wasn't to bee''.... Now we have to put it up for rent.'' her voice cracked. She explained how her husband and son had been in a car accident, and only the boy had survived...now she had to raise him alone. Santa and Mrs. Claus listened with compassion. Rudolph went over to the boy and rubbed against him. "Mom, something just brushed me!'' he exclaimed. Santa threw a glance at the young deer. "It's all right. It's only Rudolph. If you don't mind, I'll make him appear.'' She accepted, not quite knowing what he meant. The man from the north sprinkled some magic dust over him, and Rudy materialised. "OH!'' the boy gasped. "Is that who I think it is?? -- And, are you who I think you are?'' the boy was very observant. "You guessed it son, I'm the `Real' Santa Claus and this is my lovely wife, -- who never gets any of the credit for all her hard work all year long,'' he winked and she smiled, accepting his long overdue acknowledgment of her role. "Mom!''-- the boy gasped excitedly.

"David, -- how can this be??'' she looked unbelievingly at her son. "What's going on?'' Santa spoke. He explained about his dilemma, and how he felt so useless in his familiar role, now that everything was so computerised, and explained that he had just decided to retire to live on their Island -- perhaps in their cottage... While she could hardly believe that it was really the pair from the North in her humble home, she figured that strange things happened at this time of year, and perhaps she could trust them. "You seem in such awe of computers. David is a whiz with them! He spends a lot of time on his computer, talking to friends all over the world.'' Santa was very interested in the boy's talent. "Would you like to see the cottage now?'' she offered. "You go along, my dear. I'll be with you in a minute. I want to have a word with the boy.'' "Maybe he can help me with my problem,'' Santa whispered. The two women left, and David moved eagerly to his computer desk, where the monitor's screen-saver emitted spectacular pictures of wild animals.

Rudy kept close to Santa when he saw a mountain lion appear. "Don't be afraid Rudolph. He can't bite!'' David laughed. "David could you show me about this INTERNET thing? -- Is it as frightening as it seems?'' Santa asked. The boy grabbed the mouse and began to click on little pictures displayed on the screen. He did it slowly, so as not to overwhelm the old man. A familiar dial tone was heard, and soon the screen read `connecting...' The boy began to browse and call up sites that interested him, as Santa watched attentively.

"Can you tap into almost anything?'' "Just about...'' "How about people?'' Santa queried. "You mean famous people...'' a nod answered his question.

"Well, let's see..'' the mouse pointed to `SPORTS..' "Who do you mean now -- like Michael Jordan, Cal Ripken...Dan Marino?'' Santa smiled... "Well, how about mythical characters?'' David affirmed his intentions - "Like Robin Hood??? or Superman???'' "Would you like to try it yourself? It's not hard -- just take the mouse and click here ... I'll tell you when!'' Santa was skeptical -- "That doesn't seem too bad ... just click?'' "Or double click...like this.'' The man from the pole scanned a list of names that The real Santa goes on-line name and search for a match..'' David responded. "Santa Claus'' -- he typed (one finger at a time) -- "Not as quick as you, lad, -- a bit of arthritis in the fingers, you know.'' As the search began, he waited with anticipation.

After a few moments, another shorter list appeared:- `Saint Nicholas, Kris Kringle, Santa Claus, Father Christmas'...the list went on... "Well, there we are! I wonder which one is the Real Me?'' he moved the mouse and not meaning to, accidentally clicked twice on `Saint Nick' The screen began to flash and another search began ... `loading Saint Nick' appeared on the screen -- with a message "CLICK HERE FOR MORE INFO...'' David touched the old man's hand -- "Go ahead''...click, click. Whirring and flashing, and in an instant, a video clip began. ST. NICK' spoke. "Merry Christmas! -- What would you like this year?'' -- enter your list below. "Ho-Ho-Ho!!'' -- bell tinkled -- music played. "You!'' -- Santa entered, chuckling to David... The video stood still and then grew larger and larger on the screen. Like a bubble, it suddenly popped and the screen went blank. The two looked at each other. David scratched his head. In an instant, a tiny replica of the character that had been on the screen had materialised and was standing in front of them! He was about a foot tall, in full colour -- and in three dimensions! David exclaimed -- "Wow! You're real!'' he touched the little man - who felt something like a balloon. "You've got that right kid!'' a rough voice retorted. "And I know who you are!'' he pointed a finger at Santa. "You're the real one -- aren't you?'' The old man nodded -- amazed. "I'm your counterpart on the `NET', and since you've chosen not to get in on the act, I figured I'd cash in on the opportunity to take your place!'' he laughed and his stomach shook -- (like a bowl of `jelly'). "I know,'' -- the real Santa agreed. "All this is just too much for me. Kids just stopped writing.They are all on this `Superhighway' thing! It's all beyond me.'' "Don't sell yourself short -- my brother -- it's a piece of cake!'' he hopped all around the keyboard while Rudy shook his antlers... "Kids are too cool for all that old fashioned jazz,'' he remarked.

"You've got to get with the programme -- get into the nineties, man -- Just get yourself an E-Mail address -and `They will Come!' ...Heh, Heh. "Look, I'm a reasonable guy -- and there's too many for me to handle anyway -- I'll help you get on board.'' "No, I'm too old to learn all this! -- It changes everyday -- and by the time I learn one thing it will all change! -- How can I keep up with it all...?'' "C'mon, I`ll show you how easy it is! I'll take you white water rafting on the Information River of Knowledge! Grab on!'' Santa and David conformed -- leaving Rudy behind, watching his master disappear into the monitor. He whisked them away, and they zoomed along the waves of the Electronic River. They passed by tall buildings, libraries, movie theatres, shopping malls, game shops. "We're transferring to the Web Browser!'' Nick shouted as they bumped over a crossroad. They passed hospitals, travel magazines TOY stores... "Now you see how easy it is! You just have to learn the language! Man, you've traveled all over the world and have been able to talk to kids in their native tongues -- What's the difference? Our `lingo' is just another one. Once you know it, you can go anywhere -- there are no limits -- except in your mind! Just think -- you can do something, and you will! "You know you can learn anything you want to. You can learn this computer language if you really try! -- You don't really want to retire now do you? Besides, I need help to fill all the orders I'm getting. Now, let's get out of here...!'' They whizzed back over the circuit boards and `popped' back into the room. Nick remained on the screen and blended into the screen-saver, so as not to overwhelm the women who were just coming through the door as they returned. Rudy looked amazed. His master winked and put a finger to his lips.

"David's going to help me with a little matter. Why don't you ladies have some tea! We'll be back soon.'' Nick had disappeared momentarily and then reappeared, clutching a computer he had picked up at one of his malls. Santa sent Rudy off to fetch the sleigh and the three passengers climbed aboard. In a flash, they sped to the North Pole where Nick and David set the computer up in Santa's office and connected it to his phone line. "There's a tutorial on this CD, old friend. Just sit with it for a few hours and you'll get the hang of it! -- If you have any problems, contact me at this address'' .. he handed him his card. Back to St. George's they flew and soon reappeared in the small apartment where the ladies were waiting. The little Saint Nick bade farewell and vanished into David's computer. Santa thanked David and him mom for their kindness and help. He promised to send a `special' gift to the boy at Christmas. Mrs. C. and Santa were soon on their way home. He rattled on and on about his experience and what the future held in store ... how he wasn't really too old to learn a new trick or two! She was so glad to see his spirits revived. During the next few days, a lot of midnight oil burned at the pole.

David eagerly checked his computer each night after school, for any sign from the north. Early one evening, Federal Express delivered an envelope addressed to the boy. Inside was a voucher for a lifetime subscription to THE INTERNET -- and a note:- "Go check your E-Mail, David.'' He rushed to his computer and laughed out loud when he found the message he had been waiting for:- "Right on!'' he exclaimed, lifting both hands above his head as if he were Joe Montana who had just thrown a touchdown! The message read: "Children of all ages, the REAL Santa is alive and well -- and finally ON-LINE! -- Write me at sclaus y netpole.com!'' PHOTO SANTA ON-LINE WITH KIDS -- Santa Claus was planning to retire because he didn't understand computers, but he finally learned how to surf the net. CHRISTMAS SHORY STORY CONTEST CPN