Elves After Dawn, 7
What’s an elf gotta do to get respect?
When I’m called to Administration, I’m skeptical that the summons is related to any appreciation the Claus’ feel about how hard I work in the Porcelain Department as a detail painter. I believe it’s somehow in retaliation for my misunderstood relationship with Jingle Bell. Much to my surprise—and concern—I’m given a new assignment to become the Ambassador to the Mystical Convention… I’m being sent to the South Pacific to assist the Easter Bunny.
What awaits me isn’t clear, but I’m determined to shine at my task and show all the nay-sayers that Georgie Peppermint is destined for greatness.
* * * Remy Beauchamp
Spring. A symbol of rebirth with blooming flowers, trees, and the arrival of babies in every species. It was always my favorite time of the year, but this year it’s bittersweet. I have a lovely life that’s idyllic to everyone who sees it, but all I see when I look around is loss.
For years, I’ve provided the eggs for Peter Cotton, a local import/exporter on Rapa Nui—Easter Island to outsiders—who holds a worldwide food drive every Spring to celebrate the rebirth on the planet. Sadly, I lost my partner last year, and unless I can find some help, I won’t be able to produce nearly enough eggs to help feed the masses.
Enter the oddly beautiful man wearing tourist clothes and a strange little straw hat. He’s nice and hard-working, a friend of Mr. Cotton’s, and has been sent to the island to assist me. I’m not sure how he can help, but with the sweetly cynical man around, I’m a lot less lonely.
People say there’s magic on Easter Island, thanks to the gods and goddesses who watch over its inhabitants, but never did I believe I’d come face-to-face with the manifestation of the mystical forces. And it all starts with the arrival of Georgie Pepper.
This work of fiction is approximately 32,000 words in length and doesn’t end in a cliffhanger. It is part of the Easter series, “Elves After Dawn.”
“Down here,” I heard. I glanced down and saw a furry little bunny, its pink nose wiggling as it took me in. It was a rusty orange-red with large ears that stood at attention, unlike the lop ears I was used to seeing in pictures.
“You… Did you say something?” I asked the rabbit, wondering if I’d had a brain injury. The reindeers could understand us, but they only spoke to Santa when they were alone. I didn’t realize other creatures could converse.
“I could tell you were struggling with the garments, and I was trying to give you a suggestion so you don’t look like an idiot. Are you Georgie Peppermint?” the long-eared rabbit asked.
I was so dumbstruck, I could only nod, still standing there naked as the day I’d been born. Nobody or nothing had mentioned to me that rabbits had the ability of speech. I’d have remembered something like that, I was sure.
“What’s wrong? Rabbit got your tongue?” The rabbit then began to cackle, and I heard a lot of other high-pitched giggles echoing through the forest.
I swallowed. “Would you mind turning your back? I’m a little naked here.”
My rabbit companion hopped around until it was facing another direction, and I pulled on the white briefs that replaced my long johns. They were a bit snug, along with the other clothes being a bit more tailored than I was accustomed to wearing. By that logic, maybe it was necessary to wear the tight undergarments to keep things in their proper place?
I slipped on the tan shorts and then looked at the white shirt, hearing whispers among the bushes. “What is that?” I asked the rabbit.
“Hmm? Oh, put on the white shirt and put the colorful one over the top. She said you’re not good at remembering things,” my companion instructed.
I did as I was told and stepped into the shoes, which were quite comfortable after I’d removed the stockings. “Okay, you can turn around. Who is she?” I asked, referring to his comment about the white shirt.
The rabbit actually rolled his eyes at me. “Come out everyone.”
I leaned forward to pick up my clothes because I’d need them eventually, and when I stood to shake them, I was surrounded by more rabbits than I could count. They were various colors and sizes, but they all had the tall ears like my host, who was the biggest of them all.
“Damn!” I squeaked out in shock.
“Easy there. Some of these are quite young, and if they repeat that in front of Mom and Dad, then I’ll be in trouble. They’re all supposed to be in school, but Holly Claus called and told me you’d been dropped off, so I wanted to personally thank you for agreeing to come, and they wanted to come along.
“I’m Robin, and these are my brothers and sisters. Sound off!” Robin announced.
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Sam E. Kraemer grew up in the rural Midwest before moving to the East Coast with a dashing young man who swept them off their feet, and the couple has now settled in the desert of Nevada. Sam writes M/M contemporary romance, subgenres: sweet low angst, age-gap, cowboys, mysteries, and military/mercenary. Sam is a firm believer in “Love is Love” regardless of how it presents itself and a staunch ally of the LGBTQIA+ community.
Sam has a loving, supportive family and feels blessed by the universe every day for all that has been given. Sam's old enough to know how to have fun, but too old to care what others think about their definition of a good time. In their heart and soul, Sam believes they've hit the cosmic jackpot!
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