Alice - on Top of the World, chapter four

Chapter Four

'A Most Unexpected Encounter'

After placing her foot onto the first step of the escalator, and holding on tightly to the

fast-moving banister, Alice began rising.

“This is indeed a fast escalator,” she thought as she tried to admire the countryside

disappearing far below. “It’s a pity it’s so fast, I might have enjoyed the view if it were at

a more leisurely pace.”

As the picturesque countryside grew smaller and smaller, Alice held onto the

escalator’s shiny new banister as it continued its fast-paced upward journey to the top

of the world, ignorant of her wish that it slow down to a more leisurely pace. In fact, the

higher Alice got, the faster it went, forcing her to cling onto the banister for dear life, in

the increasingly windy conditions she found herself in, lest she fall off and be lost far

below.

In spite of the dreadfully windy conditions, Alice saw many wonderfully coloured birds

flying around above and below her, obviously enjoying themselves far more than she

was. “Oh, this wind is just too much, “she complained, trying to stop her hair from flying

about almost as fast as the birds.

With so much hair flapping about in her eyes, Alice never saw the top of the escalator

as it approached, and tumbling off she made an ungainly entrance at the top of the

world, if that was where she had actually arrived.

On hands and knees, Alice stared ahead, hoping she might see the White Rabbit’s neat

little house, thus putting her game of catch up at an end. She didn’t. It wasn’t. The only

thing she saw was snow, snow and yet more snow. This was most certainly the top of

the world.

“It’s so cold up here,” said Alice, her teeth chattering uncontrollably in the arctic

conditions, “I must have wished too hard, and gone all the way up to the North Pole, no

less!”

It began snowing, and although Alice at first danced around delighting in it, she soon

came to the conclusion that she had to find some suitable clothing. “A coat, a hat and

some gloves are what I need,” she said, “lest I catch my death of cold – But where will I

find such things, when all that I can see is snow?” Slapping her arms energetically

around her back, Alice tried to keep warm. “And a pair of fur boots, if I do say so myself,

will keep my cold toes snugly warm.”

The falling snow became heavier and heavier, and thicker and thicker until poor Alice

was almost totally covered by the white stuff. Shaking her head, setting free some of

the fine white particles, Alice wished that someone might come, to save her from being

frozen to the spot.

Bells, somewhere in the distance Alice thought she heard bells.

“Where are they?” she said, her eyes searching the frozen horizon for signs of the

mysterious bells. “Oh where can they be?” she huffed, trying her best to see them.

Then she saw something. Alice saw something coming closer and closer. “I wonder

what it might possibly be?” she said, straining to see through the heavily falling

snowflakes.

“Whoa, whoa,” a voice boomed out, “whoa.”

Alice blinked, only half believing what she then saw.

“Whoa, good, stay, stay,” the voice, boomed out again.

“It’s a sleigh,” said Alice, rubbing her eyes in disbelief as she watched a fur-clad man

settle the dogs that had been pulling it, before making his way through the snow to her.

“Here you are,” he said without wasting any time on introductions. “Put on these warm

clothes… and then we’ll be getting you out of this cold, to somewhere warmer.”

Even though she had no idea who this man was (he might well have been Jack the

Ripper for all that she knew), Alice obediently donned the fur clothes – coat, hat, gloves

and boots – before jumping onto his sleigh and burrowing deep into the mountain of fur

blankets heaped upon it.

“Rarr,” the man shouted as he urged his dogs on. “Rarr,” he shouted again as the

sleigh, with Alice snuggled warmly inside, disappeared into the blizzard…

“There you are,” said the same kindly voice after the sleigh had finally come to a halt.

Two large hands searched through the blankets to find Alice.

Peeping out from under the mountainous heap of warm, snug blankets, Alice squinted,

trying to see where she had been brought, and hoping against hope that it might be the

White Rabbit’s house.

“Where are we?” she asked, shading her eyes against the surprisingly bright light.

The voice (it came from a well built, round-faced bearded old man) replied, “You are in

Santa’s workshop, of course.”

“Santa’s workshop? Are you sure?” she asked, her head turning round, inspecting the

room in great detail.

“I’m as sure as I can be,” the old man replied, laughing heartily, “considering that I am

Santa Claus…”

“Santa Claus?” Alice spluttered in shock (you see, she really did believe in him),

remembering the present he had given her last Christmas, the very same one she had

asked for in the longwinded letter she had taken so much time to write. “Santa Claus!”

she said again, this time as much for her own consumption as for his.

The old man nodded. “Though I do have to admit that I prefer to be called Father

Christmas... I’m a bit a traditionalist at heart – Santa Claus sounds so colonial…”

“And I am Alice, “she said, trying to find a way out from under the blankets.

“I am pleased to meet you, Alice,” said the old man, with a jovial laugh. “Let me help

you,” he said, lifting her out from the sleigh, onto the heavily waxed wooden floorboards.

Still struggling to believe that he was really Father Christmas, Alice asked, “Where is

your red and white suit?"

Chuckling, he replied, “That’s only for Christmastime – another import from our colonial

friends across the water, I’m sorry to say, which I feel obliged to respect. For the rest of

the year I find these clothes more comfortable.” He pulled at his loose-fitting clothes.

Up until then Alice had not even noticed what he was wearing, but now that the old man

had pointed them out, she laughed at the very thought of Santa – Father Christmas –

wearing jeans and a woollen Fair Isle pullover.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked.

“Oh, it just seems so funny, you wearing such ordinary clothes,” she admitted with a

mischievous giggle.

“I used to wear a green and white suit for Christmas, in fact throughout the entire year,”

said the old man. “I’ve been playing around with the idea of returning to that theme –

what do you think, Alice?”

“I think that sounds like a splendid idea,” she replied. “Much more Christmassy than red

and white, if you ask me.”

Changing the subject from his clothes, the old man, clicking his fingers, said, “I am sure

you must be famished.”

Two little men appeared (Alice assumed they must be some of his elves), each

carrying a tray, one loaded with crispy, tasty-looking biscuits and the other with the

largest mug of piping hot chocolate drink Alice had ever laid eyes on. They offered her

the refreshments.

“Take them,” Father Christmas urged, “and there’s more where that lot came from. Oh, I

almost forgot. If you want sugar, just wish for it.”

After she had finished the wonderful repast, Alice felt strong enough to begin searching

for the White Rabbit again, but being in Santa’s – Father Christmas’s – workshop, a

thing that most children would give their eye teeth to see, Alice held back on making her

final decision to leave. And, anyway, she had so many questions to ask the old man,

like what he did during the rest of the year when the rush of Christmastime was over,

and was he really considering returning to the green-and-white theme, she was in no

rush to leave.

“I suppose you would like a tour of my workshop?” said Father Christmas walking away

from a window he had been looking out of. “It’s still snowing out there, so you can’t be in

any great hurry to go, can you?”

“I love the snow,” Alice admitted, “though I was getting a bit much of it out there, before

you saved me.”

“I found you,” the old man insisted. “You were in no real danger. There are so many of

my elves out there going about their business, I am surprised one of them hadn’t

spotted you before then.”

“Why were you out there?” Alice asked.

“Sport,” Father Christmas replied. “Sport and exercise to be precise.”

“But with dogs?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he replied, “Now don’t get me wrong, reindeers are the top dogs up here

(he made a small laugh at this comment), but for sheer excitement on the ground you

can’t beat a dog sleigh.”

“It was rather exciting,” Alice giggled, “even hidden beneath all those blankets…”

Rubbing his long beard (you know, Alice was sure she saw rainbow colours

shimmering just beneath the surface), the old man asked, “And might I be so bold as to

enquire what you were doing out there?”

This question returned Alice’s attention to the matter of the missing White Rabbit with a

start, and she told Father Christmas her whole story, from the Rabbit’s sudden

appearance all the way through to the moment she had been found lost in the snow

(though Alice omitted to say anything about her really being a grownup, with no idea

how her adventure had actually begun in the first place).

“My, my,” said Father Christmas, rubbing his beard, releasing some of the rainbow-

coloured particles without even realizing he was doing it, “that is quite a story.”

“It is the truth,” said Alice, suddenly fearing the old man might not believe her.

“I am sure that it is,” he chuckled. “And it seems that you could do with a hand in finding

this Rabbit of yours?”

“Oh, yes please,” said Alice, clapping her hands in delight.

“I think we might kill two birds with the one stone,” he said, clicking his fingers again.

“Kill two birds with a stone?” Alice asked, worried for the unfortunate birds, wherever

they might be (you see she had never before heard this expression used). He laughed;

Father Christmas laughed his Merry Christmas laugh.

Three elves, entering the room through a small door that Alice had up until then failed to

notice, approached the old man and listened as he gave them some instructions. Then

exiting through the same door, the little men disappeared from sight.

“Where are they going?” Alice asked, watching the door close behind the last elf.

“I have asked them to ensure that everything is ready for our search,” said Father

Christmas, standing erect in his jeans and pullover that Alice found so hard to accept.

Then strolling over to a regular-sized green-painted door, adjacent to the smaller one,

he asked, “Are you ready for your tour?”

Jumping up, Alice clapped her hands once again, saying, “I still can’t believe that I am

actually here, in Santa’s – sorry – Father Christmas’s workshop.”

“Come on,” he said, opening he door and leading the way through.

Once through, Alice found herself transported (as if by magic) to a huge room – a

workshop – where so many more of the elves (both male and female) were feverishly

working on the toys needed for Christmas.

“I always wondered what you did during the rest of the year,” she said, marvelling at the

tremendously busy workshop. Picking up something, a simple black cube, Alice asked,

“What sort of a toy is this?”

“I was hoping you’d ask me that,” said Father Christmas, picking up another one of the

cubes as he spoke. “It’s new,” he said proudly. “We have developed it ourselves.”

“But what does it do?” Alice asked, confused by its utter simplicity.

“It’s a wishing cube…”

“A wishing cube?”

“Yes, go on, give it a go,” he insisted. “You never know what you might get…”

“I just wish for something?”

“That’s it – but don’t tell me what you wish for, it has to be a secret – go on…”

Alice tried to think of the many things she might wish for, but in the end there was only

the one thing she felt important enough – the whereabouts of the White Rabbit’s neat

little house. So closing her eyes, she wished and wished and wished…

All of a sudden, Alice felt a tingling in her fingers that ran all the way up and through her

arms. Opening her eyes, she looked at the cube which was now filled with bright

shining stars, far too many to have any hope of counting. And even stranger than that,

the cube began to fade until it had all but disappeared, replaced by the wonderfully

coloured stars that continued to grow in size and intensity until they filled the entire area

surrounding her.

The stars began spinning, round and round they went until Alice began to feel quite

dizzy. Just as she was about to complain, they suddenly stopped, allowing her to study

their beauty in full glorious detail. And they were so very beautiful Alice might have

watched them forever. But this beauty, like all things in life, was transient, passing

almost as soon as it appeared. At first Alice thought her eyes were playing tricks on her,

but as the stars became increasingly blurred, transforming into a foggy whiteness, Alice

became worried.

“How will I ever see the White Rabbit’s house,” she said, “with all this dreadful fog.”

Forgetting about the invisible cube she was still holding, Alice began waving her hands,

trying to disperse the troublesome fog.

Crash! The cube hit the floor, breaking into a thousand pieces, scattering the fog and

any hope she had of seeing the Rabbit’s neat little house in the near future.

“Oh no,” Alice cried out in shock when she realized what she had done, “now how will I

ever see where that Rabbit is?”

Two elves ran over, one holding a brush and the other a small dustpan, quickly

sweeping up all the broken pieces.

“The cube – that’s it,” said Alice, feeling hopeful again, “there are loads more of them.

Oh, dear Father Christmas, can I please try another one?” she asked, looking up to the

old man hopefully.

Although he was a kind, caring man, Father Christmas replied, “I’m afraid that you

can’t…”

“I can’t?” Alice whispered unbelievingly as she stared at the many cubes lying on the

table.

“I’m sorry,” Father Christmas continued, “but their magic will only work on each person

the once.”

Alice was devastated, to be so close to finding the whereabouts of the Rabbit, but to

lose it for so foolish a reason was unforgivable.

Trying to take her mind away from the broken cube, to cheer her up, Father Christmas

put his arm round Alice and began the tour of his workshop. As he took her around it,

showing her so many wonderful, fantastic toys she had never imagined it possible to

make, let alone wish for, she began to forget all about the unfortunate accident.

As the tour drew to a close, Father Christmas called his little helpers closer. “I am sure

Alice would love to hear one of your songs,” he said.

“I would, I would,” Alice replied to the many small people drawn closely around them.

“And I know it’s not Christmas yet,” she said, “but might you sing me a Christmassy

song, anyway?”

After discussing it amongst themselves, the smallest elf raising his hand, said,

“Especially for you, we are going to sing ‘Oh, why wait for Christmas?’” After some

discreet coughs, to clear their throats, they began…

“Oh, why wait for Christmas when you can have it every day,

Be it June or September, be it March, April or May.

The thing to remember is not the date or day

But the feeling that goes behind it, so share it right away

Enjoy your time for living, enjoy your time on earth

A hope for celebration, a chance to spend in mirth

Then each day will go brightly as you strike out forth

And all of this made possible because of the virgin birth.

Oh, why wait for Christmas when you can have it every day

Be it June or September, be it March, April or May.

The thing to remember is not the date or day

But the feeling that goes behind it, so share it right away.”

Alice clapped; she clapped excitedly for the beautiful song the elves had performed

especially for her. “Thank you,” she said, still clapping excitedly. “Thank you so very

much, each and every one of you,” she added in true appreciation for their impromptu

performance.

“I think it’s about time we were off,” said Father Christmas, stepping up to his sleigh.

“Where did that come from?” asked Alice in surprise by the sudden appearance of a

huge sleigh standing less than six inches in front of her nose. Stroking his beard, the old

man smiled as more of the rainbow colours hidden within caught Alice’s eye.

Returning her attention to the sleigh, Alice asked, “Can I first say hello to the reindeer?”

“Of course you can,” Father Christmas laughed, “And where better to begin than at the

front?” Leading the way, the old man brought Alice past the waiting animals, lined two

by two, to the liveliest one, at the front – Rudolf.

“He’s a bit frisky,” Alice remarked as Rudolf reared up excitedly on his hind legs.

“He had some oats this morning – they all had some oats this morning,” he chuckled. “It

always does that to them,” Father Christmas chuckled again.

When Rudolf had settled down, Alice asked, “Can I pat him?”

As if he understood every word she said, Rudolf lowered his huge antlered head,

allowing Alice free rein to pat him as much as she liked.

“He seems to have taken a shine to you, Alice. That one was always a good judge of

character…”

“Come on, you have to meet the rest of them,” said the old man leading Alice down the

line of reindeers. “This one is Dasher and next to him Dancer. He can also be a real

handful, that one,” said Father Christmas pointing to Dancer.

Alice offered a hand to Dasher who lowered his head for a welcome pat. Not wanting to

miss out on the unexpected attention, Dancer also lowered his.

“I told you he can be a handful,” said the old man laughing.

“They’re funny,” Alice giggled, sharing her hands between the two reindeer.

“Come on, we still have the rest of them to see,” said Father Christmas, moving down

the line of reindeer as he spoke. “Next we have Prancer and Vixen, then Comet and

Cupid, and last but certainly not least we have Donner and Blixen.”

“I love them all,” said Alice giving Blixen an extra special pat before following Father

Christmas to the sleigh.

“Up with you,” he said beckoning Alice to step up.

Poor Alice tried to get up but the step was simply too high for her child-sized legs.

Laughing, Father Christmas clicked his fingers. Two elves immediately appeared

carrying a set of steps, which they placed next to the sleigh, helping Alice to board the

sky vehicle.

As Alice settled into the comfortable bench seat, one of the elves leaned over and

tucked her in snugly with a warm blanket, and then before she was able to say Jack

Robinson, Father Christmas shouted,”Rarr, rarr,” and all nine reindeers galloped away

and into the night.

Chapter Five

A Note: There are in total sixteen chapters in his exciting Christmas adventure. Now all that I need are the services of a good literary agent and publisher to get the ball rolling…

Oh,I almost forgot, the Cheshire Cat makes a surprise appearance.

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© Gerrard T Wilson 2008