Home, Part 1

It is a place with many names. Some call it Middle Earth, while others prefer Narnia. One girl claims it is Oz, while another insists on calling it Wonderland. Whoville, Mount Olympus, the North Pole, Neverland... whatever you wish to call it, the place is one and the same. This is the story of how our world joined with theirs, and how we came to know about them and they of us.

Our story begins many years ago, in a time before T.V. and cellphones, before cars and the Internet, before indoor plumbing and running water. It all started one day when Lia, a Daughter of Eve (well, a granddaughter really) was sent, as usual, down to the stream to collect water. And, as usual, she was daydreaming instead of doing her job. Eventually, daydreaming turned into dreaming, and her eyes drifted closed. They opened with a start as she realized she had been drifting off, and then—

Wonder.

Lia opened her eyes to see a land right out of a fairy tale. She was sitting by a brook, which babbled senselessly out of sight. That doesn't sound too out of the ordinary. Normally it wouldn't be. Lia had listened to the small stream thousands of times. But this time, it was really babbling. There was a person, in the water, gossiping with a friend. But she wasn't just in the water. She was the water.

Lia turned in astonishment and squealed. Before, she had been alone by the water. Now the small hillock was crowded with people. Over there was a man with a goat's legs. By that bush there was another man. This one had a man's torso and a horse's legs. And there, by the tree that was walking around, there was a short little man with a large, flowing beard. But that wasn't all of them. That wasn't even nearly all of them. There were so many it didn't seem like there should be room for them all.

Now, you and I know that Lia was seeing fairy tale creatures. A faun, a centaur, an ent, and a dwarf, to name a few. But she had never seen, or even heard, of such fantastic creatures. She was just as scared of them as you would be if you saw a whangdoodle appear in your backyard. But even more than that. Because she didn't see just one whangdoodle; she saw hundreds of the little things, all swinging from tree branches. And she saw all the marvelous things little children wish to see, but never will.

She really was quite a lucky girl. And unlike most people would have, with the knowledge she had, she realized just how lucky she was. She realized that she was seeing things that no one had ever seen before. Lia stood up, gazing around, enchanted by the sights (which were too beautiful to describe), the sounds (which were like nothing she had ever heard before), and the smells (which I assure you were heavenly). She was standing by the small stream, taking it all in when suddenly-

WHAM!

Lia staggered forward, hit from behind by a small object. She spun around, drawing her bow and nocking an arrow to see... a rabbit. A rabbit, munching on a carrot.

“Eh, what's up doc?” the rabbit asked. This, more than anything else, shocked Lia. She had seen rabbits before, but like most people, she had never heard one talk before.

“What...” she gulped. “What are you?”

“Well ain't that a ridiculous question,” the rabbit said. “I am a rabbit.”

“I can see that,” Lia replied. “But why can you talk?”

“Cain't you talk?”

“Well yes.”

“Cain't your family talk?”

“Of course.”

“Cain't your friends talk?”

“I don't really know about that,” Lia said, thinking about the birds and all the other animals of the forest. “I suppose, in a way they can.”

“See? So why shouldn't I be able to talk?” The rabbit finished off it's carrot and threw the top behind it. “Now look, I'm sorry I slammed into you, but that's no reason to be rude! My name is Bugs Bunny. What's yours?”

“Lia.”

“Well then Lia, put 'er there!” The rabbit extended a paw and they shook hands. Er, paws. Hand and paw. Oh, well, you know what I mean!

The rabbit looked Lia over. “You're new here, ain't ya?”

“Yes I am.”

“Well, you'd better come with me then, before one of these numbskulls runs ya over.” Bugs gestured up at what Lia had assumed was a rock. Now that she took a closer look, however, she saw it was a leg. (You or I would know it was part of a giant, but she didn't have a clue, you see) She took an involuntary step back.

“I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of that foot,” she said.

“No,” Bugs said. “You wouldn't want to get on the bottomside.” And with that he was off. Lia raced after him, always managing to stay right on his fluffy little tail (figuratively speaking).



When the rabbit finally stopped, he had led Lia to a small hole.

“I can't go down there!” she cried.

“I know that,” Bugs said. “I ain't a complete moron, y'know. Not like him.” He pointed to a nearby road. There was a coyote (Lia had seen them at home), but it was doing the strangest thing. He was painting the road with something labeled “ACME Quick-Drying Cement”.

“Why on Earth is he doing that?” she asked the small figure beside her.

“Just wait and see,” was the reply.

“Beep, beeeeeep!” From off in the distance, a strange beeping sound came. The coyote jumped off the road, licking his chops. Suddenly, a blur raced across the road, spraying the cement everywhere. It flew onto the coyote and dried stiff. The poor figure was left off to the side, unable to move.

“Would you believe,” Lia's large-eared companion said “that he introduces himself as 'Wile E. Coyote, super genius'?” Lia stared at Bugs and laughed. She laughed so hard there were tears streaming down her face.

“'Super genius'? Him?”

“And you haven't even seen the worst of it,” Bugs replied. “He tries to catch that roadrunner at least twenty times a day, if not more. And then he goes off to bug other people, but the same thing always happens.”

Lia shook her head, amazed. “How can anyone be that stupid?”

Bugs shrugged. “Eh, it's what he was made for. Now are you comin' or not?” Lia looked down and saw that he had an armful of carrots.

“Is that what you wanted to come here for?” she asked. “Carrots?”

“Hey, whaddya expect? I'm a rabbit! Now come on!”



This time when the rabbit stopped, Lia could tell that they had arrived at their destination. In front of them was a small, very strange house, that appeared to be made entirely from sweets. The walkway up to the house was made of what we call rice krispy treats, but Lia only knew to be crunchy and sticky beneath her feet. On either side of the walkway was a chocolate-covered candy-cane fence. The roof was made of chocolate shingles. The windowsills, peanut brittle. Gingerbread walls, clear sugar windows, icing detailing, nougat eaves, licorice pillars, and a caramel door. Why, even the trees surrounding the house were made of gingerbread, decorated with green icing and frosted with sugar.

Lia just stood there, gaping.

“Now you know why I brought my own food. This is what passes for a carrot around here!” Indignantly, the rabbit pulled a carrot out of the nearby garden and handed it to Lia. She took it cautiously. “Go on, taste it!” Bugs encouraged her. “You'd probably love it.” So Lia took a bite. It was delicious. Sweet and sticky and smooth and simply wonderful.

“What is it?” she asked.

Bugs rolled his eyes to high heaven. “What is it?” he asked. “What is it? It's a breach in the laws of nature, that's what it is! That someone took perfectly good carrot seeds, and mutated them so they'd grow into this monstrosity. It's a crime against nature, that's what it is!”

“Well, it's a very tasty crime, if that's really what it is,” Lia said under her breath. Then in a louder voice, she said “Where did this house come from?”

“Well,” Bugs replied, munching on one of his carrots “the witch that made it's dead. Hansel and Gretel got rid of her.

“Hansel?”

“Yes. Or is it Hansal? Or Hansal? Or maybe Haaaansal...”

“Oh whatever, let's just go in!”

“Alright, alright.”

And they walked up the rice krispy walkway, opened the caramel door, and stepped into a sugary heaven.

“Eh, what's up docs?” The warm room wasn't crowded, but very nearly. There were only six people in it, and one of them was a dog, but then again there's only so big a candy house can actually be.

“Woof, woof, woof-woof-woof!”

“Quiet Toto!”

“Hello Bugsey, good to see you! Who's that you've got with you?”

“She looks like a Daughter of Eve to me. Does the High King know about her?”

“Oh shush, Trumpkin, of course he doesn't know. If he did, she'd be in Cair Paravel, not this dump.”

“I resent that! Gretel and I went to a lot of trouble to get this place, and I think it's really sweet!”

“No, really?”

“Oh Lamilda, why are you always in such a bad mood? I though you loved this house.”

“Of course I don't! You know I can only eat sugar!”

“That's why I thought you loved it.”

“Of course I don't love it! How would you like it if you had to live in a house that was made of every food imaginable that you can eat? It doesn't help that it's all of the finest quality. It's all I can do not to rip off the shingles and eat the window!”

“Alright, alright.”

“Gee, you'd think someone that could only eat sugar would be a little less bitter!”

“I heard that!”

“Oooo, I'm so scared. What are you gonna do, put me on the Naughty List?”

“I might.”

“Oh, come off it Lamilda,” Bugs said, stepping into the conversation (and still munching on a carrot) “Everyone knows its only Santa himself that can put people on the Naughty and Nice lists.”

“Maybe, but I can still recommend who should go on which. My opinion is quite important to him, you know.”

“Yeah, I guess that's why you got reindeer dung in your stocking last year, huh?”

Lamilda glared at Bugs, her honey curls bobbing beneath her fur-trimmed red hat. “I still haven't forgiven you for that yet, Bugs. You may be a toon, but some things are off limits.”

Bugs just laughed. “Anyways, this is Lia. Lia, this is Trumpkin the dwarf, Hansel (Or is it Hansal? Or Hansal? Or maybe Haaaansal...) the human, Dorothy the other human, Tina the fairy, Toto the dog, and Lamilda the sourpuss. Sorry, the factory elf.”

Lamilda blushed with fury. “I'm no common factory elf, as you well know bunny. I'm a member of the Elven Secret Police, or ESP. And believe me, rodent, I've got my eye on you.” She turned to Lia. “And this thing you dragged in.” And with that, she turned on her heel and went up the stairs, nose pointed in the air.

Trumpkin turned to Lia. “Well, that's Lamilda. Sorry about her. She's never been happy in the North Pole. She claims she's always grumpy from too much work. I say it's from too much ambition.”

“What do you mean?” Lia asked.

“It's very simple,” Dorothy said. “Hello by the way. You're from Earth right?” When Lia nodded she punched the air in celebration. “HA! Nice! Now the old warthog owes me seventy cubits!”

“Dorothy Gale, I'm ashamed of you,” Trumpkin said. “Gambling. And at your age too! Why, by dwarf standards, you're little more than a baby!”

“Trumpkin,” Dorothy said “By dwarf standards I'll never be anything more than a baby!”

The dwarf chuckled. “Well, I suppose that's true. You humans do have amazingly short lifespans, don't you?”

Dorothy giggled. “Well, compared to you we do anyway. And yes, that's a joke about your age.” She turned back to Lia. “Anyway, back to your question. How can she be grumpy from too much ambition? Simple. Who do you think of when you think of the North Pole?”

“Why, Santa of course.”

“Exactly. No matter what Lamilda does, no matter how good at her job she is, she can never be anything more than an elf. And why? Because she's not a Claus. She's at the very top now, Head of the Elven Secret Police, or ESP as she likes to call it. Although why is beyond me, she can't read my mind anymore than she can become the big boss at the Pole.”

“So,” Lia said. “So she's grumpy because she can't be the boss of Christmas?”

“Oh, now hold it,” Dorothy said angrily. “I never said anything about that. Lamilda doesn't care about being the boss. She's really great once you get to know her. But it bugs her to no end that she's still young and she can't do anything more with her life. She would never actually want to take Christmas away from the Big Guy. She just wants to know that there's something else to try for, that there's something to satisfy that mongo ambition of hers. But that doesn't exist.”

“But why was she being such a jerk to Bugs about it?”

Dorothy glanced at Bugs, who had sidled off and was now talking Hansel (Or is it Hansal? Or Hansal? Or maybe Haaaansal...) and Toto. “Well, she and Bugs have never really gotten along. She hates all toons. Thinks they're too darn silly. And Bugs, well, he can't understand a thing like that. Wonderful as all toons are, they just can't understand hatred. They can fake it you know. Oh, there's nothing like an angry toon that'll seem to hold a grudge. But they only seem to. They never actually drop pianos on people; that's just silly superstition. They just don't understand it. Even the rotten ones like that Wile E. Coyote, or Yosemite Sam, they would never hurt anyone who wasn't a toon. And toon's are indestructible, so you can't really hurt one of them.”

Dorothy continued prattling on, and soon Lia's head hurt from all the explaining. She began to wish she had never said anything about Lamilda.

“Dorothy, are you gonna keep talking till all our ears fall off?” Bugs had hopped back over and must have noticed the glazed look in Lia's eye. Dorothy blushed.

“That would be quite a feat, to make one of those things fall off.” Bugs grinned, and both his ears fell to the floor and began writhing around. Lia screamed and jumped onto the nearest candy chair. Dorothy just laughed.

“Oh stop frightening the guest and put your ears back where they belong. Cover up that huge hole in your head.” Bugs grinned again.

“Whatever you say doc.” He reattached his ears and turned to Lia. “Sorry doc, I couldn't resist. But I'm a toon, remember. Nothing can hurt me.”

“Enough chit-chat.” Trumpkin was back. “Come on, come on. Up to bed now. You'll have a big day tomorrow missy. Figuring out where you need to go. Need a good night's sleep to figure that out.”





I hope you enjoyed this. Parts 2 and 3 are in my portfolio. If you decide to leave a review, I would love to hear any constructive criticism you have, as well as any suggestions or questions. If there are any grammar/spelling problems, I'd like to hear about those too, although I think I've already caught most (if not all) of them. If you don't leave a review, I hope you'll leave a rating.