Page 40 of Run, Run Rudolph
Now, his fuzzy nose pushed forward as he leaned into the front seat, his antlers nearly whacking me as he tried to sneak a bite of the mistletoe bundle I’d tossed onto the passenger seat earlier while trying not to hit him on the road. I snatched it up and hung it on my rearview mirror. Rudolph stretched for it, his pink tongue darting out.
“Stay back there.” I grabbed one of his antlers and attempted to angle his head back, away from the front seat, and nearly drove off the road.
“I’m hungry.”
“I don’t have any reindeer snacks with me.”
“Cookies?”
“No cookies.”
“They were really good.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I grumbled. After Haden had bandaged Rudolph’s leg, he’d offered us a plate of Christmas treats. But before I could accept even one, Rudolph had cleared off the plate with what I swore had been a smile.
The brat.
Haden had laughed, but I’d been a bit miffed. The cookies were a beautiful arrangement of decorated gingerbread men, sugar cookies, and shortbread. All of my favourites. And I hadn’t gotten a single one, thanks to the little piggy riding in the back seat.
“How can we get you home if you can’t fly? Can Santa come get you with his sleigh?”
He didn’t reply.
“Okay, well, just so you know, I’m not making a wish to fix this mess. There are all sorts of magical consequences that come with changing the past that I don’t understand. We’re in this together, you and me, but I think it would be smarter to tell Santa so he can fly here to help us. The danger of missing Christmas has to be worse than any trouble you could possibly get into for your stag party, right?”
“Do you have any sugar plums?”
“I don’t even know what those are. Are they regular plums?”
“Some candy canes?”
“No. And why are you changing the subject?” I glanced in the rearview mirror, hoping to see him despite the darkness surrounding us. For a reindeer, his face was surprisingly expressive, and I prayed I’d spot a helpful tell. But with Haden travelling too far behind us to illuminate my cab with his headlights, I saw nothing but shadows.
“I’m not,” Rudolph grumbled.
“Are too.”
A muffled voice from the trunk added, “Yes, you are! You big chicken!” Snarky, the elf, started making gleeful clucking sounds.
I’d forgotten about him again. Based on his ability to stay hidden for long periods, I didn’t doubt his spying abilities.
“We should let him into the cab,” I said, before realizing that he was probably warmer in the trunk since he was at least sheltered from the blowing snow. The windshield protected me a bit, but not enough that I wanted to make driving with the top down a new winter habit.
“No, thanks,” Snarky shouted back.
“When we get to the barn, we need to contact someone to come help. Haden’s done all he can.” I spoke loudly, ensuring my two passengers could hear me over the wind as the car picked up speed on the straight stretch of road.
“You know, I’m feeling a lot better,” Rudolph said.
“Those are the pain meds kicking in. We need to give Santa enough time to put his contingency plans in place in case you can’t pull his sleigh.”
“Think Santa has eight or nine of those contingency plans?” Snarky was laughing, the sound lifting above the wind rushing past the car. “One for each of his naughty reindeer? Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on Mrs. Claus’s face!”
I was getting a better picture of why the reindeer disliked the elf.
“Cupid can pull,” Rudolph said.
“Cupid’s drunk. You all are.”
