Rudolph! (26 page)

"The musical?" I shook my head. "No way. He can't know about that. That's out of the question."

Yellow lights set along the ceiling started blinking, and we heard a distant sound like a giant gong being struck. "Non-confrontational security," Blitzen said. "We're out of time."

"Even if I wanted to share the script of the musical," I said. "I don't have it—"

"It's in the backpack," Ring said, nodding toward the bag that the reindeer had brought along. "We found it in your hotel room. In the bathroom."

"Things are going to get less pleasant here in a few minutes when the security service BHBB uses gets here," Blizten said. "We need Rudolph back, and fast."

I pulled open the bag and found the water-stained stack of pages that was my copy of the script. The one I had nearly dropped in the tub that night when I had first read it.

I slid off Blitzen's back. "This'll do it," I said.

Rudolph spotted me and ambled over, leading with his tongue. "Okay, okay," I said, pushing the wet reindeer tongue away. "I'm happy to see you too."

"It's a talking waffle," Rudolph said, and he crowded up against me, working his tongue across my head.

"Hey," I said, catching his tongue in my hand this time and holding it tightly. "Knock it off."

He pulled gently, his eyes crossing as he tried to figure out why his tongue wasn't going back in his mouth. He said something, but with the drugs in his system and my hand on his tongue, no one understood what he was trying to say.

One-handed, I flipped the script open to a random page and started reading.

ACT III SCENE I: A MOUNTAINTOP

Rudolph stands alone by a pile of rock. Lightning flashes in the background. (SFX: Thunder. Distant. +10 to SUB.)

RUDOLPH:
I am to take up offense against heaven and Earth with my actions so vile and wretched. Can I stay from this course? Can I foreswear from the ruin which is sure to follow so swift and sure upon my heels? Is it better to die, trapped in the venom of one's own miasma, or to live, hounded and hunted by every last thinking creature for the reprehensible deed which I must call my own? Must I summon the dark cloud? Must I turn against those who brought me hence and destroy them for their narrow thoughts and helpless mistakes? Ah, to dream, to slumber and partake of a realm so changed from this. That brief, sweet touch does strip away the thousand-fold pricks of this hell, which drains the life and blood from my veins.

I had to turn the page, which was a little complicated with one hand.

"That sounds familiar," Blitzen said.

"Please tell me you haven't read this on the Internet already," I said. "I'm really hoping the only copies are the ones that the company has."

Blitzen shook his head. "No, it sounds like something else. Shakespeare?"

"It's all Shakespeare," I said. "That's all they talk about."

Cupid made a noise in the hall, and Ring stuck his head out of the room. "Is this going to take long?" he asked after he checked on Cupid. He did a little
I have to go to the bathroom
dance, which I took to mean something else.

"I'm working on it," I said, finding another page to read.

ACT I SCENE III: THE THRONE ROOM

Rudolph is attended by Toad, his familiar. Present are the wretched fiends which populate this dark place. They caper and scamper about the tall statues.

RUDOLPH:
I tire, dear Toad, of this life. I tire of this oubliette of stone and filth which is but the extent of my realm.

TOAD:
To rule here, Master, or to serve there?

RUDOLPH:
I do not wish to rule. I do not want to be king. I have no need of crown or scepter or subjects. I but wish for the sky beneath my feet. I wish to travel across the plane of heaven and touch the stars. I cannot be bound by this foul gravity which holds us all in its bosom. I crave the vastness emptiness of space, Toad. I crave the world beyond. I crave passage between the worlds, to stand at the pinnacle and look back—all the way back—to that first tiny moment when alpha touched omega and the circle was but a singular infinite point.

TOAD
(clapping)
: To be one and many. Yes, Master, to be one and many.

"Toad?" asked Donner.

"He's a mutant elf. Six foot four. All hairy," I explained. "Rudolph's kingdom is populated by rejects."

"The Kingdom of Misfit Toys," Blitzen pointed out.

"Oh, that." Donner rolled his eyes.

Rudolph had stopped tugging on his tongue, and when I let go of it, he rolled it back into his mouth. He didn't move away from me, and his gaze had gone from sugarplum dreamy to sugar coma lethargy. "You in there?" I asked, peering at his dull eyes. "Do you remember me?"

His tongue started to slide out of his mouth.

"Something a little more exciting there, Bernie," Blitzen said. "Stop trying to ease him into it."

I flipped forward a few pages and found one of Rudolph's many speeches.

RUDOLPH
: But the snow and sky are the realms of my nemesis. He cleaves through the air and water with his sled and his entourage, his rage of angels which accompany his every mission. I cannot face them. I have not the strength nor the power to counteract his magic. I cannot break his foul grip on the world above.

TOAD:
Break his magic! Break his magic, Master.

"This Toad fellow is kind of a suck-up for a sidekick," Donner opined.

"Is he talking about Santa?" Ring wanted to know.

I shushed them with my hand and kept reading.

RUDOLPH:
Yes, Toad. Yes, that course is laid before me with such clarity. Break his sorcery. Shatter his rooftop laughter and his brazen jocularity. I shall smash his seasonal cheer and tear down his traditions. I will destroy his name. (Laughs) Now, this shall be the winter of their disenchantment. Made glorious by an apocalyptic fire of my design. Now, when their houses are but loosely kept and their crowns slack about their brows; now shall I steal their dreams and darken their fair fields with cloud fearsome and calamitous. I, that am rudely marked with this ruddy proboscis, I shall strip away their laughter and their light with my scheme insidious. Since I cannot prove to be one of their number, since even their dogs do bark at the shadows passed by my illumination, I will prove to be the villain. I hate the indolence of their days and despise the cheerful timelessness of their passion. A plot I will lay, a scheme divine and dark to blast their kingdom of winter virtue into a fallow field of corpses. A smoke I will bring, a fog so deep as to cover the sky and hold them to the ground. I will clout them with vapor and, through their very pores, I will ooze and steam until I have rotted their organs from the inside, until I have choked them with their own breath. I will destroy Christmas afore it has a chance to destroy me.

"What happens next?" Ring's curiosity was almost palpable.

"Oh, seriously?" I asked. "You're not getting wrapped up in this, are you?"

"It's not that bad," Donner said.

"Of course not," Blitzen snorted. "Even as poorly written as it is, it's still Shakespeare."

"I was kidding about that earlier," I said.

"I know you were, but that's what it is," Blizten said. "It's Shakespeare."

"Which one?" Donner wanted to know.

"Who's Shakespeare?" Ring interjected.

Cupid wiggled in next to Ring. "What's taking so long?" he asked.

"Shakespeare!" Ring said, as if he knew what we were talking about.

"Where?" Cupid looked around the room.

"No, no," Ring said. "Bernie's reading it."

"Oooh," Cupid said. "Which one?"

"That's what I was asking," Donner said, a bit peevishly.

I tuned them out. Reindeer had a tendency to get distracted when they weren't in action. It came from many, many hours of standing around on rooftops, waiting for Santa. The Time Clock put weird pressures on them, and their coping mechanism was to keep up this stream of inane chatter. No one could sustain the sort of directed focus that the Clock wanted out of you.

Well, Rudolph could. After the accident.

He was staring at me now, his skin ruddy and glistening. His pupils had shrunk to tiny dots. His tongue was darting in and out now, licking his moist nose.

"Hey, buddy," I said. "Are you there? Come on back to us, will you? We miss you." He continued to stare at me, and instead of staring back, I turned my attention back to the script, intending to read some more. "‘I will destroy—'" I started.

"I heard you the first time," Rudolph said, in a voice that sounded like someone was strangling a cat in the next room. His face scrunched up as if he was trying to undo a knot someone had tied in his brain, and the glow coming off his skin brightened.

"Uh oh," Donner said, trotting toward the far corner of the room. I stepped back too just as Rudolph sneezed heavily, his whole body convulsing. When he sneezed a second time, he punctuated it with a savage kick with his back legs. His strange radiance increased, and I scrambled out of the way as he put his head down and charged.

Blitzen yelped, leaping aside, and both Ring and Cupid disappeared from the doorway. Rudolph clipped the doorframe as he charged, taking out a big chunk as he plowed into the hallway. The frame was scorched black where his antlers had torn through the wood, and as I stared at the doorway, a tiny finger of flame poked up from a splinter of wood.

"Radiated reindeer coming through," Donner called out from behind me. In case one of the others hadn't figured it out yet.

Blitzen waited for me near the door, and we both peeked out nervously. Rudolph was battering himself against the walls of the hall, and he bucked and sneezed. Each impact left a scorched hole in the wall, and by the time he reached the far doors, his skin was shining brightly.

"Are you wearing protection?" Blizten asked, his gaze dropped down toward my groin.

"What? A condom?" I asked.

"No," he snorted. "Lead-lined undergarments."

"I wasn't given a pair at the hospital," I snapped. "So: no. I'm not."

Blitzen made a face and looked away.

"Hang on," I said. "I wasn't wearing any that year we went to hell either. Are you telling me—?"

"I'm not telling you anything," Blitzen said. "Those thermal suits are pretty good, I think. So you're probably okay."

"You think?" I sputtered. "Probably?"

"Don't get worked up," he said. "It's probably nothing to worry about. Really."

Rudolph had turned back, though he was still wobbling from side to side and shaking his head like he was warding off invisible wasps. Behind him, the door opened and a pair of uniformed men charged through. They were wearing transparent riot helmets and were carrying police batons. A couple more guys were right behind them.

The whole squad came to a sudden halt when they saw the glowing reindeer. Rudolph faced them, steam curling up from his body, tiny streamers of fire flickering at the tips of his antlers. Everyone stared at one another for a long moment—the men fidgeting with their batons, Rudolph tapping the floor with one hoof—and then Rudolph sneezed one last time. It was a big one, and the burst of light and heat that came off him was like a firebomb detonating in the hallway.

I blinked several times, trying to see past the starburst afterimage burned onto my retinas. We had kept our distance, but I still felt like I had been standing too close to a bonfire. Eventually, my vision returned to normal, and I could see well enough to notice the damage done to the far end of the hall. The walls and floors were black, and the security squad was down, though they were all still alive judging from their groans and tortured movements.

It was—I have to admit—not unlike "The Dance of the Wretches" from the musical, though with less jazz hands.

Rudolph stood in the center of the hall, looking none the worse for wear. His eyes were clear, and his skin no longer glowed. "Bernie," he said in a much more normal voice, though not without a touch of annoyance. "What were you reading?"

I let out a sob of relief. "It's you," I gasped. "You're okay."

"Of course, I'm okay," he said. "It's not like I haven't been drugged before."

"Hey," I said. "That was for your own good."

"That's what they said here too." His tone darkened as he repeated his question. "Bernie. What were you reading?"

"It's this thing," I said. "Up in Seattle. Some play that a local company is putting on. It's nothing, really. In fact, it's probably not going to happen."

"Why isn't it going to happen?" he asked.

I looked at Blitzen, who shook his head and started studying the floor.

"It's a really bad Christmas story," I said.

"There are no bad Christmas stories," Rudolph said, correcting me.

"Well, let's leave that open for discussion, shall we?"

Rudolph came closer. "There are no bad stories," he said. "There are only stories that need our help. Right?"

"Sure," I said, somewhat weakly. I knew where this was going already. But I tried anyway. "It's a lie, Rudolph. It's just meant to hurt people. It's not even in the proper spirit."

"It's still a Christmas story," Rudolph said. "And we don't cancel Christmas, do we? Or its stories." He looked around at the other reindeer. "Do we?" he asked when no one said anything.

"No, sir!" Ring shouted. Cupid stifled a laugh at the younger reindeer's reply, and then immediately hung his head when Rudolph glared at him.

"Bernie. You said this was a play. When does it open?" Rudolph asked.

"It's not going to open," I said, and Cupid looked up at me with big
WTF?
eyes.

"Er, what day is it?" I asked Blitzen, hastily changing my song.

"Tuesday," Blitzen said. "The ninth."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Friday," I said when I could breathe again. "It was supposed to open on Friday."

"Seventy-two hours," Rudolph said, ignoring the crazed sound of my laughter. "We have three days to fix it."

I waved the script at him. "Do you know what's in here?" I asked. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to let him read the whole thing and see just how bleak it was. How utterly without hope the character of Rudolph was. I cringed as I thought about the end; in fact, I cringed thinking about the beginning.