Santa Claus Conquers the Homophobes

of
The Santa Claus Chronicles

"The only two rules in
Santa Steps Out
are that everything is sacred and nothing is sacred. I wish I could hope to ever attain one-thousandth the perversity of Robert Devereaux's least toenail clipping. I also wish—despite its enticing/cautionary subtitle—that this Santa story might be read to children everywhere on Christmas Eve."

—Poppy Z. Brite

"There are scenes from this book that will haunt me forever. I know I'll never innocently or absent-mindedly suck on a candy cane again. Reading this book made me want to bitch-slap Robert Devereaux. So icky, yet so magnificently rendered."

—Elizabeth Engstrom

"The kind of fairy tale that could make Walt Disney burst from his cryogenic ice cube and go on a mad killing spree. Hard to describe, impossible to categorize, and great, wicked fun to read! Make this book one of your holiday purchases, sit down by the fire and read it aloud to the family. Well...maybe not the
whole
family...but at least the ones who are already too screwed up for it to make any difference. Heh-heh."

—Ray Garton

"A delirious slice of Nabokovian porno whimsy. Wholesome, savory, weird and blasphemous, all at the same time—just like the best sex. I believe in Robert Devereaux."

—Tim Lucas

"Let Robert Devereaux shimmy down your chimney and you'd better watch out—
Santa Steps Out
is as twisted as the stripes on a candy cane."

—Norman Partridge

"The first time I read a Robert Devereaux story, I knew that his keepers had been spiking his oatmeal.
Santa Steps Out
is evidence that they've drastically upped the dosage. A wildly erotic fable tracing the consequences of Saint Nick's seduction by the Tooth Fairy, it is by turns sexy, hilarious, horrifying, magical, gross, compassionate, appalling, brilliant, sophomoric, irresistible and infuriating...and the only prospect more daunting than turning each page to see where the shameless Devereaux plans to take us next is looking forward to the inevitable shrieks of dismay from those unwary readers who expected something with a cuddly safe G Rating."

—Adam-Troy Castro

"Once upon a time we believed: In Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and magic. And then we grew up. Well, Robert Devereaux has given all that back to us in
Santa Steps Out
. As promised on the cover, it
is
a Fairy Tale for Grown-Ups—full of magic and terror, death and miracles. It is also so much more.
Santa Steps Out
gives us a glimpse behind the placid scenery we
thought
we knew as children...and what a glimpse it is! So, grab a cup of hot cocoa, snuggle up in your warmest blankie, and settle back for a reading experience the likes of which you've never had. One warning should accompany this book, however: KEEP THIS and all other dangerous objects OUT OF THE REACH OF CHILDREN!"

—P. D. Cacek

"In its violation of our sensibilities and our cherished childhood icons, in its topping of its over-the-top scenarios,
Santa Steps Out
manages to be at once fascinating, funny, and enlightening. Devereaux's most outrageous achievement is that as he destroys our childhood myths, he rebuilds them in a twisted yet equally magical and compelling way."

—Jeanne Cavelos

"Exactly the kind of dangerous book that a small press
should
publish: the kind that makes mainstream publishers sweat."

—Hank Wagner

"Robert Devereaux is a master of vivid scene-setting, especially gory scenes and sex scenes. There is a lot of sex in this book—mostly happy, lubricious sex that is sometimes downright amazing. Prepare for a strange and stimulating ride when you hop in the sleigh with Santa and witness all his adventures."

—Fiona Webster

"Never until now have so many sacred childhood deities been subjected to such vile reinvention, in what has to be one of the most perversely hilarious books ever written. For all the ribald humor and naughty goings-on,
Santa Steps Out
is actually a surprisingly cynical tale (with a final line that beautifully bastardizes Dickens) that flays alive those childhood images used to pacify us and keep us in line, and shows them to be a soporific sham."

—Brian Hodge

"What's truly disturbing: seeing these childhood symbols degenerating into monsters. By the time Mrs. Claus is exacting her revenge with the help of Santa's elves, and the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny are tearing each other apart in an act of sexual congress, any comfort we may find in these figures is way out the window."

—Thomas Deja

"
Santa Steps Out
is breathtaking. It's almost life changing. A novel so refreshing and inspiring to read that it breaks down the walls of genres and sits comfortably outside of everything."

—Andy Fairclough

"Devereaux handles the postmodern and religious aspects of the story deftly and delicately, establishing an air of peace despite all the chaos of the plot and thematic concerns. A piece of real live literature, treated beautifully and with delicacy and great benevolent-but-black humor, and I'm just humbled at the wicked genius of Robert Devereaux."

—Mehitobel Wilson

"Beyond the apparent sensational surface of cultural iconic jockeyings for satisfaction and succor, Devereaux gradually unveils levels of mythic significance. A perfectly sincere, seriocomic exploration of myth and taboo, sexuality and relationships, and the evolution of the godhead. Yes, Virginia, there really is a Robert Devereaux."

—Edward Bryant

"Due to Devereaux's artful writing, I found myself totally emotionally engrossed in the detailed scenes of sex and violence. Oddly, there is a strong positive tone throughout the story. Love and healing are depicted in blasphemous and kinky scenes, showing that sex is intricately woven into human life and does not deserve to be isolated far away from the other parts of life. A vivid and at times disturbingly powerful link to our youth."

—Robert G. Buice, Jr.

"Even as I roared with laughter, I felt the perverseness of the guilt which tinged my enjoyment with an edge of danger, and yes, even fear...fear that I had finally transgressed beyond hope of redemption in the eyes of the God to whom all is owed, if Catholic school is to be taken seriously and literally. While this insanely raunchy, funny, thrilling, tragic, and occasionally cute and silly fable is entertainment of the highest order, it also jabs hard at convention and at the traditional—and it succeeds in momentarily and artistically turning your world topsy-turvy. Robert Devereaux, whose shining work I've lauded before, rises so far above the next level here that he is literally flirting with the kind of immortal Art label we generally reserve for the classics—and I mean the likes of Oedipus, Homer, and Euripides."

—William D. Gagliani

"Devereaux breaks every mold imaginable, and he does it with élan, and with an unabashed glee."

—Monica J. O'Rourke

SANTA WRESTLES HIS ALTER EGO

Santa and Pan fought grip for grip and fall for fall. This was a wrestling match without rules. They raked one another’s flesh, opened wounds, tore out hair by the roots, tattered garments. And the garments untattered, the hair resprouted, the wounds closed, and the flesh healed all in an instant. They grunted and swore, the rage high in Santa, the concentration maddeningly cool in Pan….

Santa couldn’t shake thoughts of Wendy. His new strength trumped resignation and gave him hope. If he triumphed—but it must be soon—he sensed he could somehow use what he learned to rescue her. In this rescue might also be found a way back from death.

Pan pretended to falter, then dove at Santa and lifted him up, pinwheeled him about with dizzying speed, and flung him far into the gray air. Santa sprawled supine, staring for an instant at the stars high above before Pan fell heavy on him and pressed hard against his shoulders. The stars, it was unmistakable, had begun to lose all luster.

The match went on, neither combatant able to pin the other. Santa failed to see how this might ever end. They would wrestle interminably, and Wendy would die. He had to win. The will to do so charged his sinews with new reserves of energy, reserves maddeningly countered by the savagery of Pan’s attacks. His throat constricted by Pan’s chokehold, Santa managed to gasp out, “Michael!”

“Ah,” said Pan, “you'd call upon Hermes, who parades as an angel of the Lord. Well, let him come. He’ll not help you, but fall himself into a trap….”

Also by Robert Devereaux

Deadweight

Walking Wounded

Santa Steps Out: A Fairy Tale for Grown-Ups

Caliban and Other Tales

A Flight of Storks and Angels

Deadolescence: A Tale of Love and Sacrifice

SANTA CLAUS

CONQUERS

THE HOMOPHOBES

Copyright © 2008 Robert Devereaux

ISBN 978-1-60145-538-3

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Printed in the United States of America.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Booklocker.com, Inc.

2008

SANTA CLAUS

CONQUERS

THE HOMOPHOBES

Robert Devereaux

For Victoria of course

PART ONE

Saving Jamie Stratton

Chapter 1. Immortals Out of Balance

IT HAD BEEN the best Christmas ever.

Never had his deliveries gone with greater efficiency, in hovel and manse, by modest sprig or beneath towering Douglas fir. His reindeer, never flagging, sprang straight into the air, every takeoff smooth and belly-tickling, every landing soft and on point. And in each house, the living room air was infused with parental love—at times begrudgingly bestowed, grown-ups being what they were—for the children.

Headed home at last, Santa sat high in his sleigh and cracked his whip over the glistening backs of his reindeer. Form’s sake only, those whipsmacks, for his team longed for home as much as he did, eager to be led to their stalls for a brisk rubdown, a well-deserved meal of aspen shoots, willow buds, and berries, and a long regenerative rest.

“Look lively there, Comet, Cupid,” called Santa, casting a kind eye upon them. “Well lit, my lad, well lit,” said he to his lead reindeer. Lucifer’s tail flicked proudly, the branchwork of his antlers glowing lightning-white in all directions.

As they neared the North Pole, stepdaughter Wendy’s sleigh emerged from a cloudbank on the right. Spirited Galatea of the milk-white fur and beacon-green nose pounded her hooves against the darkness, bringing Wendy even with Santa as they glided in swift tandem through the gathering dawn.

“Morning, sweetheart,” said Santa, his loving words carrying effortlessly to her ears. “How did the visits go?”

Wendy hesitated.

Then her face brightened.