The Red Dot

A gift of generosity from a real Santa

I kick my car’s tyre and blink at the moonless sky. How on earth did this happen, I exclaim under my breath.

I’ve always been checking tyre pressures while filling up fuel at the pump, and nothing ever seemed wrong with these fairly new tyres.

The long stretch of street lights blinks back at me while diminishing into the far horizon with only an occasional vehicle zipping by. It’s going to be fun especially since it’s been ages since I had any practice changing a flat tyre.

I place the hazard board behind the car and curse my minuscule bank balance for not having enough cash to fit ‘run-flat’ tyres, which allow super-spy James Bond to keep driving even when he’s being shot at.

Just the run-flat tyres would do for a guy like me with simple and justifiable needs. I don’t need 007’s car’s armoured firewall stuff like bullet-proof glass, reinforced doors, bomb-proof roof and special fuel tank shield to protect from stray bullets.

That seems to be something a guy like Elon Musk may need with his habit of casually hacking down his employees globally as and when he pleases just so that he can tweet about it. I don’t know. I’m just saying…

I’ve got better things to think about than that since I’m going to be super late to reach home for my family’s Christmas Eve dinner. Luckily my wife doesn’t have a gun.

While I’m in such wonderful thoughts, a bright red Land Cruiser appears as if from nowhere. A guy with a flowing beard smiles at me from behind the wheel. He asks me whether I need help.

Before I can answer, the big burly guy steps out of his car while I blink in confusion. Evidently, my head isn’t working optimally ever since I got my tyre flat.

He handles the wrench and the jack like toys in his big hands while I’m fumbling at what to grasp from the situation. Soon, the flat tyre is replaced with the stepney. It’s probably taken the same time as a Ferrari pit stop at a Formula 1, give or take a few minutes. Maybe, maybe not.

I’m letting the situation sink into my weary head, and he’s already in his driving seat ready to leave.

“Thank you very much, Sir!” I say in true solemnity, and quickly realise that I have not even asked his name.

“Santa”. “Santa is my name” he booms with a glimmer in his smiling eyes.

And off he goes speeding away.

I continue staring into the distance, this time without blinking until Santa’s a red dot in the distance.

“You have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.”

John Bunyan