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Sarah Sues Santa – P.J. Leonard

Chapter Four: Early Post

The second Sarah’s alarm woke her up, she slammed a hand on it and it fell silent. 3:00am. She was
so sleepy and it was so cold outside of her bed that she almost fell back asleep, but then the memory
of her Mum crying swept over her, and she was wide awake. Shuddering as she slipped into her ice-
cold clothes, she picked up her letter and crept down the stairs, wincing every time a step gave a
loud creak.
She peered into the living room. Sometimes Mum and Dad would fall asleep in here or would watch
a movie late at night, but tonight it was pitch black inside. She pushed the door open, and walked
over to the TV. Pulling a drawer open, she dug through the pile of old batteries, wires and bits of
paper until she found a clean white envelope.
Something moved in the corner of her eye, and she gasped as she swung around. Tinder the cat sat
on the sofa, swishing her tail and eyeing her with narrow yellow eyes.
“Stupid cat,” Sarah muttered as she slipped her letter to Santa into the envelope and licked it shut.
She pulled a pen out of the drawer – then another, and another until she found one that worked –
and wrote To Santa, North Pole in her best writing on the front. Does this need a stamp? No, it
should be fine: I’ve sent letters to Santa without stamps before. Besides, I don’t want to pay any
money to send letters to him!
She slipped out into the hallway and headed for the front door. Now for the tricky bit. The wind
howled outside and snow still fell past the door’s window. She slid into her wellington boots and
pulled on her warmest jacket, gloves and woolly hat. Even with her gloves on she could feel the
cold door handle making her fingers cold. She took a deep breath, and pulled the door open.
The wind roared and snowflakes blew into the hallway. Sarah stepped out into the night and closed
the door as quickly yet quietly as possible. For a moment, she held an ear to the door to check if her
parents would wake up, but she couldn’t hear anything. She turned and faced the snowstorm.
Even with all of her thickest clothes on, Sarah had never felt so cold. Snow whirled all around her.
It was so thick on the ground that every step came up to the top of her boots. Luckily, the nearest
postbox wasn’t far: she headed up the driveway and towards the end of the street.
Maybe it was just her imagination, or maybe all of the snow made it look that way, but the street
seemed even longer than usual. Sarah felt as though she’d been trampling through the snow for an
hour by the time she reached the postbox. She wiped the snow off of the letterbox, and checked the
timetable bolted to the front. It was difficult to read it in the dim yellow streetlight, but she could
just make out the next pickup time: 5:00am. She pulled the envelope from her pocket and, before
she could think twice about it, pushed the letter into the postbox. There. Done. Let’s see what you
say to that, Mr. Claus!
She turned – and nearly leapt on top of the postbox in shock. A postman stood over her, his dark
uniform so perfect that not a single flake of snow dared to land on it. He had no gloves, no scarf, but
but he wasn’t shivering. A brown sack was swung over his shoulder.
“Good morning, young lady,” he said, tipping his hat. He didn’t shout over the howling wind, but
Sarah heard him perfectly clearly. “What are you doing out at this hour?”
“I…I was going to ask you the same thing!” Sarah asked, crossing her arms and trying to look
brave, “It’s a bit early to be picking up this post, isn’t it?”
“Normally, yes,” said the Postman, “But I’ve been told to come here because of some very
important mail.”
Sarah’s mouth fell open, then she immediately regretted it as cold snow flew in and stuck to the
back of her throat. “You…you know about my letter?”
The Postman nodded with a grin.

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