Chapter 3
With Hollie, the junior Christmas elf, by his side, Father Time navigated Santa’s sleigh through the time stream. Eight other reindeer plowed through the winds while Rudolph, his nose so bright, guided the sleigh through the vortex.
"Where are we going?" shouted Hollie above the howling time winds.
"Pardon?" Father Time asked.
Hollie shouted even louder, "WHERE ARE WE..."
Suddenly, the nine reindeer, sleigh, giant sack of Christmas toys, junior elf and Father Time materialized out of the time stream and into a tranquil field.
"... GOING?!"
"All right. No need to shout, you know. We're here." Father Time climbed creakily out of the sleigh.
"But where is here?" asked Hollie, joining the old man, "It's a bit warm."
"I suppose it would be a little tepid for a young elf so used to the North Pole climes. We have arrived at Easter, next year to be precise."
"But where?"
He pointed his scythe in the general direction of a little cottage surrounded by a white picket fence. Next to the cottage Hollie saw a small vegetable garden. She read the sign hanging from the letterbox. "P. Cottontail, Esq..."
She thought for a moment. "The Easter Bunny?"
"That's correct," beamed Father Time approvingly as he entered the gate and walked to the front door. "I wish to ensure young Peter is safe and well. We will be in for the warmest of welcomes. Peter's hot-cross buns are to die for, and he makes a mean pot of tea to boot." Father Time gave Hollie a little wink before tapping on the front door with his scythe.
Rat-a-tat-tat
The door opened slightly and a rabbit, wearing trousers, jacket, and a waistcoat popped his head out from the slit. "Hello?"
"Mr. Peter Cottontail, Esq.," beamed Father Time, throwing his arms wide. Hollie ducked just in time to avoid having her head cut of by his scythe.
"Oh no," Peter Cottontail's face fell, "Kronos!"
Well, this was a shocking development. "But why aren't you happy to see him?" Hollie asked.
"Are you kidding me?" replied the rabbit, shaking his head sadly. "Whenever Kronos shows up, something bad is bound to happen... or already did."
"Oh dear," sighed Father Time. "The time damage has already affected poor Peter."
"So what do you want? And what's with the sleigh and deer?" asked Peter, pointing to the reindeer and Santa's sleigh. "Doesn't seem your style."
"That, young Rabbit, is precisely why we are here," answered Father Time.
"Santa's disappeared," pipped in Hollie.
"Santa who?" replied the perplexed Rabbit.
"Look, Santa's been erased from time. We only have one more night before Christmas Eve --"
"What are you talking about, elf?" interrupted Peter. "And who’s this Christmas Eve? Never heard of her."
"I'm afraid, Peter," Father Time began, "Hollie here comes from 23rd December last year. A few days before what used to be Christmas.”
"Yeah," cried Rudolph, still tethered to the sleigh with the rest of the deer, "replaced by something called Frostmas."
"Oooh," cooed the rabbit, "I love Frostmas."
"Apparently," said Father Time worriedly. "How are the preparations for Easter going?"
"Easter?" replied Peter. "What's Easter?"
"This is getting rather repetitive," Hollie sighed.
"One of the dangers of time travel, I'm afraid."
Something new baffled Hollie. "But if Easter doesn't exist, why hasn't Hoppy here, been erased too?"
"Good question. Probably hasn't happened yet."
"What hasn't happened?"
Suddenly a temporal wave washed over the group. Father Time swirled his hourglass, creating a chronal barrier to shield them from the wave’s effects just in the nick of time.
"That," said Father Time rather sheepishly.
Peter stood up, dusted himself down, and looked around. "My house! My garden! My fence! My mailbox!"
Indeed Peter Cottontail's house, garden and white-picket fence had all disappeared.
"What happened?" howled a distraught Peter.
"It looks like somebody just tried to erase you from time too, Peter."
******
Santa's sleigh materialized atop a high-rise apartment block and once more his knees cracked audibly as Father Time climbed out gets out of Santa's sleigh.
Crrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrackkkkkkkkkkkk!
The others winced. "Ewwwww."
"Ah, that's better,” sighed the old man, slowly getting back to his feet, a contented smile playing over his lips.
"So much for the element of surprise," snapped Peter as he hopped out of the sleigh. "I want first dibs on whoever tried to delete me."
"Not quite yet, Mr. Cottontail," cautioned Father Time.
"Then where are we?" asked Hollie.
"14th February. New York City, I believe."
"Valentine's Day?" queried Peter with a raised eyebrow.
"You remember Valentine’s Day but not your own holiday?" snapped Hollie.
"Now, now, no time for bickering," reasoned Father Time. “We must find Cupid quickly."
"Hey, you going to let us out of this, Hol?" Rudolph indicated the harness.
"Sorry Rudy," apologized Hollie. "We might need a quick getaway. It's better if you stay here with the others."
"Grrrrrrrr," grrrred Rudolph.
"So where do we find Cupid?" asked Peter, looking out over the city.
"No idea," confessed Father Time. "I specialise in time, not space."
Father Time, Peter, and Hollie checked out all the romantic spots in New York in their quest to find Cupid--restaurants, nightclubs, the top of the Empire State Building, Central Park. Their search was fraught with danger, you see, as many courting couples mistakenly assumed the trio was a bunch of weirdo perverts spying on their private and romantic moments.
Hours later...
"This is ridiculous," complained Peter, "We're never going to find him."
"We've searched everywhere," agreed Hollie, rubbing her sore feet.
"Except this building," pointed out Father Time, indicating the building on which they had originally landed.
"How do you know he's even in New York?" asked Peter.
"I'll be getting a postcard from him next Tuesday."
"Of course…"
CRASH!!!!!!!
The door bursts in on suite 3569.
"Freeze!" ordered Peter Cottontail.
"Jeez!" yelped Cupid.
"Eeeek!!!!!" screamed the three charming, witty, and intelligent ladies who just happened to be spending the evening with Cupid... discussing world politics and other important social evnets. Yes that was it...
"Eek!" blushed Hollie, hiding her eyes from the cherub's near-naked form.
Cupid launched into the air, the two small feathery wings on his back beating furiously as he reached for his bow and quiver. "Don't worry about your modesty, toots,” Cupid winked as he nocked an arrow. "I've got a magical sash that protects mine."
Cupid drew back his bow.
"Wait!" Father Time yelled.
"I told you to freeze!" Peter launched into the air towards Cupid.
"Sorry, Bub… whoever you are. I think I've got a lot more experience hitting things than you," explained Cupid as he released the arrow.
Twang.
"Oowww! I'm hit!"
"Oh no!" Hollie gasped.
"I wouldn't worry about it too much, young lady," said Father Time. "Cupid's arrows aren't deadly. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, that shot should improve Peter's surly disposition quite nicely."
Indeed, after a brief spell, Peter awoke feeling a lot less angry. A lot like his old original self, actually. "Hello, everybody. My name is Peter Cottontail. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"I think I preferred 'im before I shot 'im," complained Cupid, as he produced a big cigar and proceeded to light it with a match. "Who is he anyways?"
"Peter Cottontail, the Easter Bunny," answered Hollie.
“Easter Bunny, huh? Never heard of ‘im.”
“This is part of the reason why we are here. Somebody has tried to erase the Easter Bunny from history,” Father Time explained. “Santa Claus appears to have been their first victim…”
“Santa who?” queried the cherub.
Hollie sighed. “Not this again.”
“You have no memory of Peter or Santa because time is realigning itself into a new reality. But these two fine beings represented two very special occasions in the calendar.”
“So who’s the chick?”
“I’m Hollie,” she replied rather indignantly.
“Which holiday are you?”
“I’m not a holiday. I’m one of Santa’s helpers.”
“Santa’s little helper? Ha ha ha!”
“Who you calling little, short stuff?”
Ignoring Hollie, Cupid addresses Father Time, “So someone’s put a hit on us holiday icons, huh?”
“It would appear so, at least on the surface. We were able to save Peter himself from being deleted, but not the memory of him.”
Cupid picked up his quiver and slung it over his shoulder, “In that case, Kronos, I’m your cherub.”
“Excellent,” exclaimed Father Time. “We should leave immediately.”
“Oh.” Peter’s voice came from the kitchen. “That’s a pity. I’ve just made a tea cake.”
Father Time’s eyes lit up, “Ooooh.”
“Ya kiddin’ me, right?” Cupid groaned.
Hollie grabbed Peter and Father Time. “We’ll eat it on the way.”
