by Tom Hoffman
“Bruno Rabbit told her what happened to you and how you had sacrificed your life to send Neilana safely home, and that your sacrifice would eventually bring an end to the war. Bruno is a strange one. He has no time for explorers, but he said you were an exception. He liked you. That’s why he repaired your body and froze it in time until the Seventh Key was returned. It was all his idea. He tried to bring you back while Emma was still alive, but even he couldn’t wake you. I was in on the plan from the start. In fact, I was the one who helped your A2 open the spectral doorway to Nirriim. I told him I was his inner voice and convinced him he was the one creating the doorway. Can you imagine me being an inner voice?”
“Did Emma... you know...”
“Marry again? No, she didn’t. She said you were the only one for her, and she would find you again. She lived to be almost one hundred and eighty, and I don’t think a day went by that she didn’t mention you.”
Edmund looked at his old friend Jonathan. “How do I find her? How do I know if she’s back here again?”
The glittering lights within Jonathan’s spectral body sparkled and danced. “If I knew anything specific I would tell you. This new body has a few other interesting benefits besides immortality and instant travel. It connects us more deeply with the universe. I can tell you this much – I have sensed that Emma is back and is looking for you, although she probably doesn’t know exactly who she is searching for. Don’t run out like the mad rabbit and try to find her. You know well enough how the universe operates. Go on about your life, but keep your eyes open and pay attention to your feelings. It won’t take long. You’ll recognize her when you see her, even if she doesn’t look the same, and even if she doesn’t know you.”
“Okay. Thanks, Jonathan. You’re not quite as dim as you look.”
“Finally, after all these years you pay me a real compliment. It was worth the wait. Speaking of which, I’d say you’re healthy enough for a few small sips of ale. You have to be sensible though, so no more than four or five pints.”
Edmund the Rabbiton spent many long days getting reacquainted with Edmund the Explorer. He told Edmund the Explorer all about the Thirteenth Monk and how he had relived his lost memories of the ants in the Timere Forest.
“You forget, A2, while you were reliving your experience I was there with you, half asleep in your Rabbiton body. I saw everything through your eyes, although it seemed like a dream to me. When I saw the ant grabbing me, my only thoughts were of Emma. I’ll have to tell her that when I see her. You know, I’m probably the only rabbit in history who’s gone back and watched himself living his own life. It taught me one thing. It’s the little things we do for others that make a difference, not the big grandiose gestures. It’s mopping the floors for Emma, or buying a few pints for Jonathan. A whole lifetime of that can change the world.”
Edmund the Rabbiton smiled. “The kindness and friendship you showed to me when I was a young A2 Carrier Rabbiton changed my life forever. I am quite certain you will find Emma again. Clara said you would, and she is extremely gifted in matters such as this.”
“Thanks, A2. Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I was swallowed by a gigantic Nirriimian Wyrme of Deth who–”
“Um, that was me, not you.”
“Oh. You’re right. How about the time I...”
* * *
Oliver looked through the glass wall to the vast factory floor below his office. The production lines were rolling, and they were shipping out eleven flying carriages a day. Orders for the Pterosaurs were piling up and Augustus C. Rabbit already had plans in motion to double their output. The Pterosaur was a far greater success than Oliver had ever envisioned, but he frowned at the sight of the paperwork piled up on his desk. It seemed all he did was sign papers and pore over technical drawings. He was beginning to wonder if there was any difference between this and his old job at the Excelsior Corporation.
“Good heavens, there really is no reason for me to be moping about like this. As president of the Pterosaur Flying Carriage Company, I hereby decree it is time for a delicious snack.” He rose up, stepped to the back of his office and opened a clear glass case. Inside the case were eight pink boxes filled with Madame Beffy’s éclairs. With the help of Bartholomew and the engineering Rabbitons, Oliver had cracked the technology behind Bruno Rabbit’s time bending food storage system. The éclairs were as fresh as the day they were made, almost three months prior. He gingerly removed one and returned to his desk. Just as he raised the éclair to his mouth he was interrupted by a soft knocking on the door. He set down the éclair and called out, “Enter!”
The door slid open and familiar face peeked in. “Hello, dear Oliver!”
“Clara! How lovely to see you again. I trust you and Bartholomew are enjoying your visit to the Fortress?”
“We are having a lovely time. I have developed a certain fondness for the food synthesizers, and your flying carriage factory is quite astonishing. You really are a brilliant rabbit, Oliver.”
“Oh dear, you mustn’t say such things to me, Clara. I might have to steal you away from Bartholomew.” Oliver chuckled loudly, always his own best audience.
“It’s interesting you should say that, Oliver. I have a puzzling letter addressed to you that arrived in today’s post.”
Oliver looked at her curiously. “A puzzling letter for me? If it’s from someone who wants a Pterosaur, I’m afraid they’ll have to–”
“I don’t think that’s it, Oliver.” Clara pulled a pink envelope out of her pocket, a mischievous smile on her face. “It’s quite a lovely envelope, and smells distinctly of lilac scent. Who do you suppose it’s from?” Clara blinked her eyes innocently.
Oliver’s usual composure vanished. “Great heavens, I have not the faintest idea who would send me such a letter. Just throw it on the pile with the rest of my correspondence and I’ll get to it later.”
“Mmm... the return address says it’s from someone named Madame Beffy in Grymmsteir. Isn’t she the one you buy all your éclairs from?”
“Madame Beffy... well, yes, of course, she makes the very best éclairs in all of Grymmore. Her pastry shop is quite well known. She is also a very lovely rabbit. We have become rather good friends over the last year, though I have no idea why she might be sending me a letter. Perhaps it is simply a note to thank me for all the éclairs I have purchased.”
Clara smiled as she handed the letter to Oliver. “I’ll stop teasing you now and let you read your letter. Oliver, I’m truly happy you have found a dear friend in Madame Beffy. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
Oliver T. Rabbit had met his match and he knew it. He dropped all pretense, taking the letter from Clara. “Thank you, Clara. I am quite fond of Madame Beffy and it is my intention to spend more time with her if she is so inclined.”
“If she searched for a thousand years she would not find another rabbit as wonderful as you, Oliver.”
“Oh dear, I really should get back to work now. Stacks of papers to sign and drawings to approve, you know.”
“I understand. We’ll stop in again before we leave for the Timere Forest. Bartholomew says it’s the most beautiful place he has ever seen. It sounds lovely.”
“Yes, quite lovely indeed. Especially now that the giant ants are gone.” He was still chuckling after Clara had left.
Glancing back to make certain the door was closed, Oliver set Madame Beffy’s letter down in front of him. He ran his paw gently across the envelope, the memories of his last visit to Madame Beffy’s Pastry Shop flooding back to him, his senses filled again with the delicious aromas of éclairs and lilac and freshly baked cinnamon rolls.
He picked up Madame Beffy’s letter, studying it closely. At this very moment in time, the content of her letter was a cloud of infinite possibility. The letter could say whatever he wished it to say. Madame Beffy could confess that Oliver was her heart’s fondest desire. She could also say he was simply a cherished friend or a valued customer of the pastry shop
. Once he opened and read the letter, this luxury of imagination would come to an abrupt end. The cloud of infinite possibility would be distilled down to a single focused reality, becoming a new truth in his world, a turned page in the story of his life. He leaned the envelope up against his table lamp with a sigh.
“Tomorrow. I’ll open it tomorrow.”
* * *
Edmund the Rabbiton stood gazing at his reflection in the mirror. A smile slowly spread across his face. “I am Edmund the Rabbiton, and I am alive. I am alive.”
* * *
Bartholomew and Clara strolled paw in paw through the majestic primordial Timere Forest, dappled sunlight fluttering across the soft forest floor.
Clara gazed up at the glorious beams of light filtering through the forest canopy. “It’s far more beautiful than any description you could ever have given me. It is ancient and timeless. I hear the song of the trees more clearly here than anywhere else I have ever been.”
“That’s what it was! That’s why it seemed so beautiful to me. I was hearing the song of the trees but wasn’t consciously aware of it.”
“It’s breathtaking. I’m so glad we decided to come here.”
“I hope Edmund the Explorer finds Emma, just as you and I found each other.”
“You really have become quite the romantic. It’s a big change from the last time we were married, but I like it.”
“The last time we were married?”
“Yes, before we were rabbits.”
“What does that even mean?”
“We haven’t always had these rabbit bodies. It’s like Edmund the Explorer moving from a Rabbiton body back to his original rabbit body – our consciousness simply moves from one vehicle to another.”
“Oh. I didn’t have scales back then did I? I don’t think scales and claws would be a good look for me.”
“You know perfectly well none of that matters. The only thing that matters is us being together.”
“I would agree one hundred percent. I happen to know the Blue Monks wrote on a small piece of paper over five thousand years ago that the greatest treasure in this world is love.”
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Until we meet again,
Tom Hoffman
