It’s almost dawn on that December day and Santa Claus is already home.
In a house, by the tree, there’s cookie crumbs on a plate.
Under that tree, there’s a cardboard box
wrapped in ribbon, topped with a big red bow.

Daddy’s still asleep. Mommy’s awake but lying
silently in bed nursing an eggnog hangover.
But Little Lucas is up, dressed in his favorite blue pyjamas
that are checkered with cartoon people who don’t really matter.
He races from his bedroom, down the stairs,
and makes a sharp right turn toward the living room.
In his haste, he slips and almost falls on the cold wood floor.
He runs until he sees the dim embers in the fireplace that silhouette the stockings hung above it.
But Little Lucas doesn’t care about such trifle things now,
he only cares for the plunder that hides beneath the tree.
He finds that cardboard box and rips it open with a fury like a grizzly bear
would have toward a camper who just ate a fresh bacon sandwich.
And the secret is revealed: it’s a laptop.
Of course Little Lucas is ecstatic and he opens it right away
but he’s confused too because this laptop is already on.
It’s showing a god-view of some mountains and buildings, clearly very far away.
As Little Lucas toys with the controls, he figures out how to look up and down, left and right,
and he can zoom in and out.
And Little Lucas can see cars, houses, a boy walking in the road alone, and what looks like a factory,
or so he thinks, and he clicks on this lure.
Little Lucas simply watches the missile plunge into it, neutralizing and erasing the temptation.
Not understanding what had just happened, Little Lucas closes the laptop,
walks back to his bedroom, goes back to bed, and waits to open the other present.

Little Mohammed didn’t understand what had just happened either, over in Pakistan.
All he knew was that the factory, where he worked long hours making coats, shoes, jeans, shirts,
and blue pyjamas checkered with cartoon people that don’t really matter,
was gone.