George in Blunderland

So I understood how Alice felt when she fell down that stupid rabbit hole. Except that she wasn’t freezing, and all she had to do was wake up. I wished I could just wake up. This was strange enough to be a dream, but it hurt so bad all over, no way it was a dream. I probably broke all my bones.

I lay crumpled on the ice with talking animals for company and nothing to eat or drink and no way home.

“You look good,” said the polar bear. “Short and skinny, but crunchy. My name is Patty. What’s yours?”

“George,” I muttered with a shiver, not in pain too much to wonder how a polar bear could talk or to be glad it wasn’t attacking me.

“Harrumph,” said the walrus, his head poking through a large jagged hole in the ice. “Where you from, George?”

“Florida,” I groaned. Sunny Florida, where tee-shirt and shorts were just right for this time of year. “I’m really cold.”

“Harrumph,” replied the walrus, dipping below the water’s surface.

“Don’t mind him,” said the white rabbit hopping around my aching head. “He’s nobody special. He can only talk because he’s near Patty and me. My name is Ninny. Isn’t Florida one of the early stops on the North America route?”

“I don’t know,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m really freezing here. I need some warm clothes. And a doctor.”

“Clothes,” yawned Patty, lying back and scratching her shoulders on the ice, which groaned and popped under her weight. “That’s what Nick calls his hide. You have a thin hide, George, that doesn’t fully cover your limbs. Not very smart, you ask me. No wonder you’re freezing.”

“I never understood the desire for switching hides,” said Ninny. “You get one thick, furry hide and you stick with it, like me and Patty do. Nick switches hides sometimes, but after he made that thick red hide with white fluffy trim, that’s the only one he ever uses anymore. Where is Nick, anyway?”

A wrinkled head poked out of the water and the walrus flopped onto the ice, a brightly wrapped box hooked under his tusks. He dropped the box and scooted it across the ice to me. “Here you go, George. Maybe there are clothes in here.”

“I don’t know what the big deal is about gifts,” said Ninny. “They’re never anything you can use. None of the ones I’ve ever chewed open were anything I’d want to eat or nest under.”

Patty sat up and the ice groaned way too loud. “I’ve only ever gotten two gifts. The sleigh was overloaded and they fell off.”

“Well there’s a whole bunch of gifts down there.” The walrus wormed his way back to the edge of the hole. “I’ll fetch one for you, Patty. One for you, too, Ninny. Maybe I’ll even get one for myself.” He slid into the cold depths.

I sat up, my whole body throbbing, and pulled the wet bulky box closer. The tag on the box read: To Martha, From Santa. “Sorry, Martha,” I moaned, “I guess you and a lot of other people ain’t getting gifts this year.”

Whatever was inside the box was thoroughly soaked, so even if it was a thick fur coat, it wouldn’t do me any good. It could be food. I’d be happy for a soggy fruit cake. I tore off the soaked wrapping paper, uncovering soaked cardboard.

“I’m so excited for you,” Patty squealed. I wished I felt as excited.

“I bet it’s one of those fake humans,” said Ninny, hopping one hop closer to the box. “No use to anyone.”

“Both of the gifts I got were fake humans,” said Patty. “One of them you could shake and it would say things, like, ‘Do you want to play?’ But then it never would. It didn’t taste good either. I was sick for days after I ate it. The second one wasn’t any better.”

I ripped the top off the box, reached in, and grabbed something oddly shaped, cold and hard as ice. I lifted it out and sat it down.

“A fake caribou,” growled Patty. “I bet it tastes horrible.”

Great, a toy reindeer. The last thing I got to see before I froze to death and was eaten by a starving, talking polar bear was this grim reminder of how stupid I was.

How stupid would you have to be to take a dare to sneak into Santa’s sleigh while he was putting gifts under the tree in your house? I’m that stupid. And of course then my jerk of a brother Johnny came running across the roof, yelling at the reindeer and scaring them so bad they took off, with me in the sleigh.

I don’t know how to drive a car on a sunny road, much less a magic sleigh through a cloudy, wintery midnight sky. Hey, I tried shaking the reins, cracking the whip, and hollering, but that just made the reindeer fly faster until we crashed—somewhere near the north pole, from the looks of the place. I jumped off and landed real hard on the ice, but the reindeer, sleigh, and gifts broke through. Donder and Blitzen and the other reindeer are all thrashing around down there right now. No way they can swim all hitched together like that. I guess they’ll drown. Don’t look at me. I ain’t going down there. Patty and Ninny and the walrus don’t act like they care either.

“Patty! Ninny!” yelled a distant female voice. Standing up despite the pain tearing at every muscle, I saw a woman approaching. I was rescued!

“Fun’s over,” sighed Ninny. “Mrs. Claus found us. Time to go home.”

“I can’t wait to hear you explain this to her,” laughed Patty, rolling to her feet and giving me a slap on the back. She licked her lips. “She’ll probably feed you to me.”

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