The Polar Express

By Ann Wortham & Leah Rosenthal

Merry Christmas! Ho Ho HOOOOOOO.

 

            Hannibal Heyes sat up with a gasp, his heart pounding nearly out of his chest and the lingering sound of the booming words still ringing in the crisp, cold air. For a moment, he was disoriented, unaware of where he was but his shoulders slowly slumped as he pulled up the blankets of his bedroll around his shivering shoulders and blinked at the dying light of their campfire. Tall trees loomed around the clearing with the light of a full moon and twinkling stars shining through the branches. Although the night sky was clear at the moment, he suspected there would be snow blowing in the next day.

            Across the fire from him, Kid Curry, his cousin and partner, was also sitting up and blinked blearily. “What the—?” He turned his head back and forth frantically, searching for any threats. “What’s wrong?” His hand was under his blankets but Heyes knew it would be resting on his gun.

            Heyes shivered harder, pulling his blankets tighter as he glanced around the clearing himself, seeing nothing more than their horses tied on the edge of the camp, the fire, the trees, the starlight, and his partner. The horses blew white air out their nostrils, visible in the cold, and stamped their feet. “I-I guess it was just a dream,” he finally stuttered. “But it seemed so real …”

            In the light of the flickering flames, he could see Curry’s expression go from alarmed to annoyed. “You about gave me a heart attack.”

            He shook his head again, still feeling slightly out of place. “Sorry.”

            Heyes watched as Curry’s expression softened and he seemed to relax. “Well, go on. Tell me about it now that you woke me up along with half the forest.”

            Heyes leaned forward, excited now to tell his tale. “Well, Kid, it was like this. We had just finished a tasty dinner of stewed rabbit and we were feeling nice and warm …”

            “Warm!” Curry interrupted, waving a hand around, indicating his skepticism given how chilly it was.

            “Who’s telling this story, you or me?” Heyes said, then continued, “We were feeling nice and warm and contented and pleased with ourselves that we’d stayed out of trouble for so long. Surely our amnesty might be a nice Christmas present this year?”

            Curry nodded at that one and Heyes went on spinning his story …

 

 

 

            “Maybe we should go see Lom,” Heyes suggested. “Ask him to check in with the governor?”

            Curry lifted an eyebrow. “Well, it has been quite awhile since we asked. I suppose we could get there before New Years. Maybe he’ll still be feeling the Christmas spirit?”

            “Oh, I don’t think that’s going to be enough,” a loud, booming, very familiar voice interrupted.

            “Huh?!” Heyes and Curry both jumped to their feet, guns immediately drawn. “Big Mac?” They scanned the surrounding forest but there was no sign of anyone else there, much less Big Mac McCreedy, their sometimes friend, sometimes foe from Texas. They were far away from Red Rock, Texas and they’d never known Big Mac to venture far afield, anyway. It seemed unlikely he’d be skulking in the forest in the middle of the night.

            “Did you hear that?” they both asked each other in unison.

            “Yup,” Curry said, still looking spooked. Heyes just nodded.

            “No need to be frightened,” the disembodied voice of Big Mac assured them.

            The two men turned back to back, their guns still drawn, as they turned in a circle.

            “No guns allowed,” the voice of Big Mac said.

            Their guns disappeared from their hands. Heyes yelped as Curry snatched at thin air. “What the—?”

            “Hold on tight,” the voice said and whooooosh they were suddenly … elsewhere. Some place very white. Very snowy. Staring around, they could see they were surrounded by buildings with a beautiful, large castle dominating one end of the street.

            “Best get inside out of the cold,” Big Mac said and they felt large hands shepherding them, turning them towards the castle, and pushing them down the snowy street. It was dark outside but all of the buildings were lit up with glowing, cheery looking lights showing in their windows. They looked … inviting.

            Heyes glanced to one side and up and up to find a huge snowman with a beard and a bowler hat had his arms around them. He tried not to flinch away from the snowman’s grip on their shoulders.

            “Come along, boys,” the snowman said, his voice sounding for all the world just like Big Mac McCreedy. “He’s waiting for you.”

            “Uh, who’s waiting?” Heyes managed to stammer.

            “Why, Santa Claus, of course!” the snowman said. “He sent me to fetch you boys.”

            Heyes pinched himself. “Ow.”

            Curry just looked like he was in a daze.

            They did as they were told and soon were out of the cold and inside a huge room with high ceilings. It was very warm and very noisy. Christmas decorations were everywhere, hanging from the walls and ceiling and banisters of a staircase. Heyes didn’t think he’d ever seen so many Christmas balls and so much tinsel in his life. Little people were scurrying around, hammering and carving children’s toys while a large man with a round face, white beard, twinkling eyes and a red coat supervised.

            “It can’t be.” Heyes blinked over and over again.

            “And yet it is,” Curry said slowly.

            “Are those—?”

            “They sure look like elves.”

            “Welcome, boys,” Santa said, hurrying over to greet them. “I’ve been waiting for you! Sam had a little trouble tracking you down since you were on the move all day.”

            “Uh, sure. Hi, there,” Heyes stammered.

            “Yeah. Hi,” said Curry.

            Santa held out a couple of aprons adorned in Christmas decorations. “Here. There’s no time to waste now! I’m on a schedule, you know. Put these on. Don’t want you messing up your regular clothes.”

            Heyes and Curry exchanged a look but, afraid to disobey, again they did as they were told.

            Santa’s eyes narrowed as he took them in. “Hmm. Something’s missing. I know!” He reached in an apparently bottomless pocket and pulled out two elf hats. “Here!”

            Heyes and Curry slowly put on the hats.

            Santa clapped his hands together. “You look wonderful! Now! I’m sure you’re wondering why I sent my friend Sam after you tonight?”

            Heyes and Curry both nodded slowly.

            “Yes! Well, you see, Christmas is coming soon and my elves are having a wee bit of trouble with these newfangled train engines. Lots of children love the trains but I’m afraid sometimes my elves don’t get them quite right. So I thought I’d send for some experts who could help them get the hang of things! Make the trains come out right.”

            “And you boys could use some redemption,” Sam the Snowman added meaningfully. “After all the trains you robbed.”

            “We don’t do that anymore!” Heyes protested.

            “Yes, but you did …” Sam said. “Did you ever pay any of those folks back? Now, wouldn’t you like to help Santa and the elves make lots of little boys and girls happy this year?”

            Heyes wasn’t quite sure how a talking snowman could make him feel so obligated and guilty.

            “Sure. I would,” Curry said unexpectedly. He turned to Heyes. “Let’s just do it.”

            Heyes raised an eyebrow. “You know this is all a dream, right?”

            Curry shrugged. “It’s warm in here.”

            “And we have gingerbread and hot cocoa,” Santa said temptingly.

            “Okay,” Heyes said, resigned to their fate. “Show us what you need us to do …”

 

 

 

            So that was how Heyes and Curry became “elves” at Santa’s workshop that Christmas and helped show the elves how to make the toy trains more realistic.

            Time passed but Heyes was never really sure how long they worked in the workshop. The elves seemed happy in their work overall and sometimes they were visited by, of all things, talking animals. Even Santa’s reindeers would come in to visit and see how the toys were progressing.

            They were aware that other toys were being made throughout the building by the throngs of elves, but Heyes and Curry stuck to the toy train section.

            They never seemed to grow tired although there were frequently breaks where everyone drank the best hot chocolate they’d ever had and Mrs. Claus brought them fresh baked cookies. Every once in awhile, they’d have hot apple cider instead of the cocoa. Heyes worried about outgrowing his clothes with all the sweets, but everyone told him the treats were “magical” and not to worry about it. The elves insisted the food was nutritious and not fattening. Curry certainly didn’t worry. He indulged in every treat offered.

            “Have you tried these things,” Curry said enthusiastically, holding out a round shaped, brightly colored candy of some kind. “The elves call them ‘reindeer nugs.’ They are so good. I think they’re my favorites. Even better than the candy canes.”

            Heyes took it hesitantly and popped it in his mouth. It was sweet and full of cinnamon and sugar and some unknown ingredient. “Hmmm,” he agreed. “Very nice.”

            Curry sighed heavily. “I’m sure going to miss this place. You know. When we have to go back.” He sighed again.

            Heyes nodded in agreement. It was definitely nice to be warm and fed and safe from bounty hunters. At least, he didn’t think any bounty hunters would be able to ever find them at the North Pole. They tried not to think about having to return to their cold lives on the run.

            They learned to shrug and just accept the magic of Christmas Town while they were there.

            Sometimes, Sam the Snowman would come and serenade them. Playing on his banjo and singing a song he said he wrote called “Holly Jolly Christmas” and —

 

 

 

            “Oh, I’m going to stop you right there,” Curry interrupted Heyes’ tale. “That’s just going too far!”

            “A giant talking snowman who sounds like Big Mac McCreedy isn’t going ‘too far’ until he starts singing?!?” Heyes said, a little outraged. “Santa? Elves? North Pole? Santa’s workshop? None of that was too far???”

            “Can you just imagine Big Mac singing ‘Have a holly jolly Christmas?’ ” Curry started laughing. A big, loud laugh, straight from his belly. He almost fell over into the smoldering fire.

            “Well, I don’t have to imagine it,” Heyes muttered. “Because I actually heard it …”

            “And then one day Santa and the talking reindeer and elves just decided we were finished helping them and dropped us off back here? Hmm?” Curry said, still gasping from laughter, his eyes watering with tears.

            Heyes nodded sullenly. “It was Christmas Eve. He had to deliver the toys.” He knew it was all a dream but it had certainly felt real. And it had been kind of nice to feel all warm and cozy and like Christmas for awhile. Also like they were actually helping out the kids. Curry had seemed to enjoy it. Especially all the guilt-free candy.

            “I told you not to eat those mushrooms for dinner last night,” Curry said. He pointed a finger at Heyes. “You never know if they’re safe.”

            “Hey! I know my mushrooms,” Heyes said.

            “Apparently not!”

            “Okay. Okay. You’ve had your laugh about my crazy dream. I’m going to just … check on the horses.” Heyes got up and dusted himself off and stalked to the edge of the clearing.

 

 

 

            Curry stared after him a long moment as a sly grin grew on his face. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a brightly colored candy and popping it into his mouth. “Mmmm, I sure am going to miss these things,” he said around the mouthful of candy. He fingered the rest of them in his pocket, trying to decide whether or not to share them with Heyes. Of course, that would be admitting … Aw, why not? Like Heyes had said, he’d had his laugh. It was Christmas. He got up and went to join his friend and partner.

 

 

Author’s Note: I’d like to thank my friend Montana who made the gorgeous artwork to go with my little story. She always goes above and beyond and often at short notice. I hope everyone reading is familiar with the Rankin/Bass “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and the fact that Burl Ives aka Big Mac McCreedy played Sam the Snowman. Otherwise, you might think I’m as crazy as Heyes.

Artwork by Montana