Rudolph Saves Christmas

4: Flop

Rudolph eyes fluttered open, struggling as if they wanted to stay shut but supposed that they really should let the world in and the bad dreams out. He was confused. He could still hear the whistle, after a fashion, but now it seemed like breathing. And there was still that pressure on his mouth. Was he awake? Still asleep? At least he was no longer falling.

"Sshhh..." whispered a small voice, so close to his ear it sounded almost like it was inside his head, echoing around.

"Don't make any sudden movements," it said. The pressure on his mouth was released and Rudolph took a deep breath.

"Why," he whispered to the room. "Is Ethelbert about?"

"No," said the voice. "I'll fall off!"

"Fall...?"

Rudolph looked to the direction of the voice. Perched on top of his antlers, with a deep frown furrowing his forehead, was...

"Flop!"

Rudolph sat up quickly, so pleased to see his friend that he forgot, for a moment, where he was. Flop wasn't expecting this and so found himself with his head in the duvet and his feet in the air. His tail was draped over his face and the problem with having a very small nose was pretty much like having a big, red, glowing one. It was rather sensitive. Flop sneezed.

"Sshhh"" said Rudolph.

Flop coughed and spluttered and jiggled his body about until he was sitting the right way up.

"Sshhh?" he said. "You're telling me to 'sshhh'? I'm here to save you, and you 'sshhh' me?"

His hands were on his hips and he was looking very serious. His tail was flicking at the tip, as if it had a nervous twitch, a sure sign that he was annoyed.

Flop was a squirrel. At least he looked like a squirrel. He had the little hands and the big feet. A big bushy tail that was taller than him. So, Flop was a squirrel. The only problem with Flop's squirrelness, was that he didn't like nuts. He didn't just dislike the occasional walnut or turn his nose up at an odd acorn or two. Flop hated nuts. He'd tried walnuts, pecan nuts, cashew (bless you), brazil and coconuts. He just didn't and couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, like nuts. So there.

He couldn't climb trees either.

He'd tried it, oh yes. Didn't like it. He always fell. After he landed on his bum, his belly, his back and, on so many occasions, his head, Flop decided to accept the inevitable. He couldn't climb trees.

"If," he once told his dad, "I was meant to climb trees, I'd have sharp claws to dig into the bark and be fast enough to get a good run up. I would also," he continued knowledgeably, "be light enough to not break branches when I ran across them!" He then folded his little arms across his little chest and nodded his head, smiling smugly.

Ah.

"Save me?" said Rudolph. "From what? I haven't done anything! Why won't anyone listen to me?"

"Haven't done anything? Haven't done anything? Oh, I wish I could believe you! I'd never have thought you could do such a thing. Really, Rudolph, how could you? Why??"

Rudolph stared at his friend. Not Flop! If his best friend didn't believe he was innocent, then no-one would! He was beginning to think that he must be guilty of something, or else everyone wouldn't be so convinced of it. But what? What could it be that had made Ethelbert think that he was Naughty! What could possibly have made Flop think he was anything but Nice??

"I haven't... I don't..."

All he could do was shake his head.

"Come on Rudolph. It's me, your friend. Talk to me. You know you can tell me anything."

The reindeer knew his friend was right, they could talk about anything and had shared many a secret, like his crush on Vixen or Flop's appetite for boiled pine cones (when everyone knew you ate them deep fried with butter melting on top).

But this time there really was nothing to tell.

"I need to know," said the squirrel. He leaned in close, his tiny nose dwarfed by the other's mighty beacon. "Why did you blow up Santa's sleigh?"