It was Christmas Eve in Elmwood, and the snow was falling in rather large flakes.
"The night before Christmas—the most wonderful time of the year," thought B-Jay, the red Beetle car, looking out of the garage window to the surrounding hills and the distant farmhouses. All around, the world was covered by a deep blanket of fresh, powdery snow. It resembled a picture-postcard winter wonderland, painted inside a vigorously shaken snow globe. "Beautiful," he reflected as he watched the moonlight twinkling on the white rooftops like a multitude of joyful, dancing stars. All around seemed quiet; as quiet as a silent night.
In town, things were very different. Everywhere you cared to look, there were decorations. There wasn't a shop along Main Street that didn't have Christmas lights dangling from the window displays, illuminating the children's toys that were for sale and every type of gift you could imagine in a kaleidoscopic rainbow of pulsating colors. Each of the streetlamps that lined the road was draped in gold and silver tinsel and, at the very end of Main Street, stood the annual Christmas tree, looking splendid as usual with ornaments hung on every visible branch and a silver five-pointed star perched on top. The fallen snow, weighing down each branch, added the final touch.
The sound of the carolers' traditional Christmas repertoire echoed loudly. The coins in their collection tins jingle-jangled as they shook them to the tune of "O Little Town of Bethlehem." It was more than enough on its own to drown out the sound of bustling footsteps as shoppers frantically crisscrossed the road, their footsteps crunching the snow underfoot as they entered every shop looking for the perfect last-minute gifts.
B-Jay was feeling a warm glow in his engine that had nothing to do with his excitement and nothing to do with the cold. His owner had spent the morning polishing his red paint until it shone like a holly berry, and even tied a sprig of mistletoe to his rearview mirror. He was ready and full of anticipation. Not because it was Christmas Eve and not because it was going to be a white Christmas—and not even because he was going on another adventure, because in truth, no one had mentioned one. He was excited because this would be the first Christmas that he would be spending with his friends.
He recalled how incredible their Halloween adventure had been when they bravely saved Pinocchio from the pirates and wondered if that could ever be equaled, even at Christmas. He had no presents, and no one would be dressing up in fancy Halloween costumes, but it did not seem to matter. The magic of Christmas was in spending time with loved ones, family, and friends. And he had five of the best friends that anyone could ask for. All that seemed to matter was being with them. He might not have an adventure to take them on, but he was determined to bring the Christmas spirit to them, along with a little Christmas surprise.
He made sure that the surprise was safely stowed and began humming the tune of "All I Want for Christmas Is You" as he started his engine, revving gently to the drumbeat. He turned on his heater and hummed two verses joyfully before deciding to leave the garage. He was still humming the second chorus as he came upon their usual meeting place, the cottonwood tree.
"Merry Christmas!" he tooted as he pulled up beside them, his horn sounding musical in the crisp air.
"Merry Christmas, B-Jay!" Zippo, the tiny ant, shouted, wearing a tiny red Santa hat that kept flopping over his eyes. He was busy trying to teach Digger Bo, the tumbling badger, how to do a "festive tumble," which apparently involved spinning while holding a candy cane. Digger Bo seemed to be overjoyed that someone else had taken an interest in his tumbling and could be heard singing, "'Tis the season to eat candies... tra-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la," as he practiced.
Cressida, the proud black cat, could not resist correcting him and, with her usual condescending tone, responded sharply, "For the love of Christmas, Badger, the word is 'jolly,' not 'candies'!" She smoothed her whiskers sharply as she said the word "jolly."
"'Tis the season to be jolly... la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la," he sang, correcting his mistake with a tumble and a smile.
Cressida turned away despairingly, muttering just one word. "Hopeless," she said before producing more cat spit for her Christmas grooming, using a single, sharp guttural throat noise.
"Maybe we could write a Christmas song," mused Digger Bo, still tumbling, holding onto the candy cane with a tight grip. "You seem to know all the right words, and you could help me make them rhyme." He gave his body a shake, releasing the snow that had settled in his fur.
Cressida didn’t respond to his latest remark, feeling that it was beneath her to do so, and for a moment, it was quiet.
"No chance of a silent night if we are all going to start singing," Aruna, the wise Great Horned Owl, observed, half-joking, perched comfortably on a branch with one eye closed. His other eye observed that the snow had stopped falling all of a sudden.
"We just have to wait for the dog to stop snoring," Cressida remarked. "Although it does sound like a rather unusual instrument; there’s plenty of bass to it, I feel." Her tail flicked and her shoulders dropped, suggesting she may just offer a dance move or two.
Maxwell, the large St. Bernard dog, woke up with a start. His head flicked upright so fast his jowls slapped together, making a sploshy, wet slap sound. "I wasn't snoring! I was… listening for sleigh bells. I’m sure I heard a jingle!" His speech was sleepy and he was staring at the tree when he said it, before turning to focus on his friends.
"Actually," B-Jay said, his engine purring. "That jingle was me." He popped his trunk and, with a click, revealed a most marvelous surprise: fairy lights. "I thought that, even though we might not have an adventure tonight, we could decorate the cottonwood tree!" He gave his rearview mirror a jiggle, making the mistletoe dance.
"Woo-hoo!" screamed Zippo, spinning his Santa hat around and moonwalking backward toward the fairy lights. "Christmas has come and B-Jay has brought it to us!" He stretched out his gloved hands as if the trunk were full of presents.
Suddenly, the wind picked up, and a thick fog began to roll in from the mountains. It crept across the land, slowly enveloping everything in its path.
"Oh dear," said Aruna, looking concerned. "That fog looks very thick. What if it causes Santa to lose his way over Elmwood? He won't be able to see the chimneys!"
Maxwell whimpered, his ears drooping as his worried eyes widened. "No chimneys means no stockings. No stockings means no cookies!" His tail sank to the ground with a thud, throwing up a white powdery cloud.
They all stared at each other at this sudden twist of fate. For once, they couldn't disagree. Maxwell was right. Something had to be done or Christmas would be ruined—not just for them, but for the whole wide world.
"How are we going to decorate the tree now?" asked Digger Bo, not quite grasping the severity of the situation. Standing upright on his bristled haunches, nose twitching in the direction of the mist, he twitched and clawed the snow underfoot as his shoulders tensed up.
Zippo responded by putting his hand on his friend's shoulder in an effort to brace him for what he was about to say. "This is end times, buddy! I don't think we will have time for the Christmas lights as we have to save the world." He could see the despair in Digger Bo's eyes and quickly responded, "But don't be alarmed; we might have time to decorate the tree after we have saved the world—as 'heroes'!" His voice changed pitch as he said the word "heroes," and his eyes flickered up and down at the same time for extra emphasis. He stood before Digger Bo, back straight with a statuesque pose to suggest heroes are worshiped with monuments.
Digger Bo's face changed entirely. He had never been a hero before. Sure, he had made plenty of mud statues of all shapes and sizes, although he had no idea how they were going to save the world. He stood there, feeling uncertain, the cold air causing the hair on his back to stand upright as he watched the fog creeping closer.
It was then that Cressida remarked loudly, "If we save Santa, we save the world. It's a no-brainer if you ask me!" She contorted her head backward, licking the back of her neck. The mist could wait.
"But how do we save Santa?" asked Maxwell, standing next to Digger Bo with his eyes narrowed angrily in the direction that Digger Bo was looking. "This isn't anywhere as easy as the time we saved B-Jay's wheel." He growled at the mist, baring his teeth as he did so, his breath escaping as a warm cloud that tickled his wet nose.
"And it isn't as simple as driving a Hop Toad back to his home in Canada!" stated B-Jay despairingly. His wipers twitched nervously, twice, as he responded, "That was far easier."
"And the time we managed to get Jasmine the rabbit back home safe and sound was even easier than that," said Digger Bo, "although that wasn't much of a challenge seeing as her mother came and collected her." Just thinking about her made him even sadder, and for a second or two, he looked sadly at the ground, forgetting the mist.
"And this is all helping how?" remarked Cressida with an even more sarcastic tone than usual. "If we don't solve this, then Ludwig will not get my Christmas card and will think something bad has happened to me. Can you guys be serious just for one minute? There is more than the world at stake here!" She looked down at her cold paws, and for a moment, her eyes looked misty.
For a second or two, everyone froze. It looked like Cressida was crying and that, in itself, was disturbing. Without a moment to spare, Zippo grabbed the candy cane from Digger Bo, leaped onto the hood of B-Jay, and—with a gloved hand holding the cane aloft like a sword—adopted a pose similar to Joan of Arc.
"My comrades," he began with a deep voice, measured for such an occasion. "Did we not, against all odds, succeed in our last adventure when all seemed lost? Did we not triumph in our darkest night when others would have cowered away? Did we not, as a band of brothers, rescue the long-lost Pinocchio from the hordes of sword-wielding, swashbuckling pirates? Yes! We did. It was us! And today, as the fate of the world hangs in the balance, we are called upon once again to summon that same courage. All we need is a plan!"
B-Jay waited for Zippo to finish his morale-boosting speech before speaking out. "This might sound too simple, but couldn't you just fly up to Santa, Aruna, and give him directions?"
"I am afraid it isn't that simple," responded Aruna with a twist of his neck. "I cannot fly if I cannot see where I am going. We could use the fairy lights that you brought for the tree. We could lay them along the field like the landing lights they use at airports, but again, I have no way of flying to see if they are laid in a straight line across the field." His eyes widened as he leaned forward on the branch and, for once, he looked worried.
Just as he finished the sentence, Digger Bo ran off to the side, disappearing into his burrow.
"Oh, that's just great," cried Cressida, watching him go. "Now there are just five of us. This is hopeless!" She shrank back down, placing her head between her front paws, no longer caring that the ground was cold.
The mist grew thicker and thicker, and the minutes passed as they all sat thinking. Even Maxwell, who by now would normally be asleep, remained awake and sniffed at everything that surrounded them in the hope of uncovering an idea.
"So, it looks like you guys could need a hand," said the sudden sound of a not-so-familiar voice from the edge of the burrow.
"Jasmine!" shouted Digger Bo, appearing alongside her with an optimistic look on his bristled face. "She has agreed to help us."
Behind her were a dozen or so other rabbits from her warren. The rabbits' noses all twitched in perfect, rapid unison. "We have an idea," Jasmine said, "or at least Digger Bo has come up with a way for Aruna's idea to work. And for that, you will need our assistance."
Digger Bo looked at Cressida before remarking, "They grow up so quick—am I right?"
Being a parent, Cressida decided not to be snarky but just to nod her head slightly in response. She knew that although Digger Bo was not Jasmine's parent, he had grown very attached to her when she had been lost and was prepared to adopt her—that was until her mom appeared to take her home. And at this moment in time, all she could think of was her own son, Ludwig. She looked away again, plagued by negative thoughts. Thoughts that couldn’t even be cured by grooming.
Aruna alighted from his branch sharply, ignoring the snow that flew in all directions as the branch quivered behind him, and began conversing with the rabbit group. Without a moment to waste, the others grabbed the fairy lights from B-Jay's trunk. The rabbits then quickly set off back into the burrow as Aruna shared the plan with his friends. They all nodded before Digger Bo and Maxwell grabbed each end of the lights and also disappeared back into the burrow. Aruna flew as high into the tree as he dared, shaking whatever snow blocked his view to the branches below, and began to make owl noises, occasionally updating Zippo, Cressida, and B-Jay on what was going on. They couldn't go on the mission.
Their job was to stay behind and look for signs of Santa and to let Aruna know the minute he became visible. They felt a little left out but agreed that if this plan was to work, someone had to remain behind on overwatch. The minutes ticked by.
The plan was quite genius, but with the hazard of the fog, they realized that once again it would require teamwork to be successful. Everyone would need to play their part. Maxwell would walk along one side of the field while Digger Bo remained stationary as an anchor point. Every ten feet or so, Maxwell would listen for the sound of a rabbit and follow his directions to the next hole, which would be another ten feet or so in front. By guiding him every step of the way, they could ensure that the lights were in a straight line, which was essential if they were to guide Santa toward the town. Aruna would then provide confirmation of how it looked from above. The going was slow and the mist made the sounds much quieter than normal, but Maxwell had good ears, and if that didn't work, he could smell the rabbits' scent.
"How is it going?" asked a rather anxious Cressida, looking up at the tree. Aruna was completely hidden by the mist, but she heard his voice when he replied, carefully standing to the side to avoid the tiny avalanches triggered by his hoots.
"It is going great so far," he exclaimed. "I can see the lights. They look straight. It won't be long now before the landing strip is complete. I estimate no more than another ten minutes, then all that will be left is to spot Santa. That is when we will know if it has worked." He continued scanning the field as the others worked tirelessly, creating the landing strip.
The minutes ticked by and Zippo started pacing up and down, up and down, his tiny feet making a nervous crunch-crunch underfoot. Cressida watched the sky, her ears pinned back as she listened for any sound.
"Wait! I see something!" shouted B-Jay, flashing his lights and tooting his horn. The sound echoed across the field, piercing the mist with a dull tone.
"What? What do you see?" shouted Aruna from above.
"I can’t be sure, but wait... yes, YES, YES! I can see a bright red light flashing on and off. It is Rudolph, I am sure of it." He flashed his lights onto high beam and let out a continuous long toot. His wing mirrors flipped up and down as if dancing.
Cressida’s heart started thumping and Zippo was jumping higher than any ant ever did—such was their excitement. For a moment, they hugged joyfully before resuming their vigil of the night sky, eager to see if B-Jay was right.
Seconds later, the red light came closer and closer, dropping lower in the sky. B-Jay was right: it was Rudolph, and they could see he was at the front of the sleigh as it glided down toward them. Everyone started cheering, and the moment they heard the words, "Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" and saw Santa waving his hand in appreciation, their elation grew to such immeasurable heights that they all got goosebumps. His long white beard trailed in all directions, glowing bright against his tightly fitting red suit. Then, he cracked the reins with both hands, averting his gaze back to his reindeer, and the sleigh launched itself upward. Santa held on tightly as the sleigh veered sharply, turning back into the mist and out of view, but definitely heading toward town.
Zippo turned to Cressida and B-Jay, saying, "We did it—we saved Christmas. We really are heroes." He was still doing backflips as Aruna flew back down from the higher branches, and once he had settled nearer to ground level, he flipped his head upward, letting out an almighty loud hoot before exclaiming, “Well done, everyone! Great team effort.”
Moments later, Maxwell and Digger Bo reappeared back out of the burrow carrying the Christmas lights, which they dropped at the base of the tree before launching into a massive group hug. Even Cressida joined them, relieved that Ludwig would finally get her Christmas card and grateful to all her friends for making it possible.
After a minute or so, they began talking incessantly about what had just occurred. No one could quite believe what it was that they had just achieved. No one could quite believe that this time, they really were heroes. Rescuing Santa and saving Christmas made saving Pinocchio pale by comparison. It was truly a Christmas miracle.
The rabbits didn’t come back to share in the glory, even though they had played a massive part in the mission's success. They preferred to go straight home, back to the warren, and wait for Santa’s arrival to unwrap their presents, now that they were definitely going to receive them. So the six friends then sat there alone, together, under the tree, taking it all in.
It was some minutes later, once they had calmed, when Zippo turned to Digger Bo, saying, "What do you say, hero? Shall we dress the tree now?"
And so they did.
A while later, B-Jay looked back at the tree, its colorful lights glowing in his rearview mirror as he headed home.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered to himself. “Merry Christmas!”