White Rabbits
by Marco Etheridge
He utters his white rabbits every first of the month and trusts that somewhere Pooh and Piglet remain the best of friends, despite what the ghost A.A. Milne might say.
His parents, without threat or coercion, named him Charleston. Charleston Druthers, Charlie to his few friends. He’s heard the joke about having his druthers more times than anyone should have to remember or endure. Charlie’s mother and father have since slipped beyond the pale, leaving behind any guilt they may have felt for saddling their only son with his unfortunate appellation.
Charlie Druthers lives alone in what was once the family flat. The combination of a fiery automobile accident and The Uniform Simultaneous Death Act ensures that Charlie, provided he maintains his frugality, does not have to drudge through a nine-to-five existence.
For his part, Charlie would much rather exist in The Hundred Acre Wood. Not as a replacement or foil to Christopher Robin. One human is enough. He would be quite content with a lesser role and permanent citizenship. Perhaps Roo, who is small and fearless. Charlie is not a large person and might acquire fearlessness given enough time. If not Roo, then one of Rabbit’s many Friends-and-Relations. That should not be asking too much.
In idle moments, gazing down from his favorite window, Charlie ponders his chosen alternative universe. Life would be so simple in The Hundred Acre Wood. He might go on adventures with Pooh and Piglet or learn important things from Christopher Robin. There would be games of Pooh Sticks where no one argued about winning or losing. And best of all, while new animals did appear from time to time, no one died.
On the street below, real life gets on with its gritty business. Charlie understands the difference between his imagined realm and the actual world. He is not obsessive or delusional, or only mildly so. Certainly not to a degree that might allow Doctor Collins to tap a hairy finger on a certain page of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. Tap-tap-tap. Then that sonorous voice, so well-modulated for the patient’s comfort.
Ah, here we have it, Charleston, the root of your problem.
Charlie has been a patient of various mental health professionals since just after he was orphaned. He finds the title confusing. Are there mental health amateurs? The court appointed the first shrinks as part of the settlement. Three years later, on his eighteenth birthday, Charlie chose his own psychiatrist. This may have been his first decision as an adult.
He’s been seeing Doctor Collins for seven years, which makes their relationship the longest of his adult life. As a rule, Charlie does not take his shrink too seriously. The good doctor means well but thinks everyone has issues. Pronounces the word with clearly articulated syllables: Iss-ues.
The appointments are not a complete waste. These repeated fifty-minute hours provide Charlie a quiet opportunity to cast away frivolous matters and concentrate on those things he takes seriously.
Today, he ponders humankind’s descent from apes. The wording itself is important, laying particular emphasis on the verb descending, to move downwards. Or descend as in a mood or atmosphere. Better yet, have descended upon, as in beset by.
While Doctor Collins speaks of personal progress, Charlie imagines human evolution as a downward spiral, a sort of reverse tornado sucking up previous versions of more beautiful creatures and then spinning them downward into a vortex consisting of one catastrophe after another. Charlie believes in catastrophes.
Regardless of the upward or downward progression of human evolution, Charlie avoids the facile trap of placing himself above his fellows. No, he is a member of Homo sapiens sapiens and nothing more, sharing more than his share of human foibles.
* * *
Spring is yielding to summer and the plane trees are in full leaf. Charlie walks down a shaded sidewalk. The city street runs through a brick canyon of brownstone walkups. Stoops descend from front doors like unrolled tongues.
Charlie tries to concentrate on the sensation of shade and the sound of the concrete beneath his shoes but, he is distracted by something the doctor said. Normally, he forgets Doctor Collins the moment he departs the expensive oak portal and reappears in the everyday world. Today is different. Somehow, a few of the doctor’s words had wormed into Charlie’s skull.
Acknowledging desires is crucial, Charlie. After all, how can one obtain what one desires without first recognizing what one wants in the first place?
He feels the shaded air flow past his cheeks, listens to the soft scuff of his leather soles against the sidewalk, and ponders the doctor’s words. Another banality, of course, like most of what comes out of the doc’s mouth. Yet there is a tickle of something deeper, and thus accidental. Doctor Collins is never deep, not intentionally at any rate.
Desire, that’s the hook. Charlie smiles at the thought. He will acknowledge his desire. With the next heartbeat comes the realization that not only can he name his desire, but he can act to fulfill it. Won’t that be a surprise to Collins? And no time like the present. At the next intersection, Charlie turns left and crosses the street.
Turning another corner, Charlie finds himself on a busy commercial street. The sidewalk is full of people. He threads his way between the scurrying pedestrians, careful not to brush against anyone or be jostled in return. Halfway up the block, he pauses outside a travel agency. He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, opens the door, and steps inside.
Less than an hour later, Charlie emerges from the agency. He walks home in a state of amazement at the enormity of what he’s done. Who knew it would be so easy?
The nice woman was so helpful. An entire itinerary planned out in fifty minutes. Which reminds him that he needs to cancel his next few appointments with the doctor. Charlie will be out of the country and thus unavailable for the doc’s chair.
So many things to do! Before he reaches his front door, Charlie has mapped out a campaign and committed the list to memory. Check his passport. Go to the library for travel books. Use the library computer while he’s there. Lay out his clothes and pack a bag.
The travel agent promised she would have the full itinerary confirmed in a few days. At first, she wanted to email the information, but Charlie explained he did not have a computer. Although she had looked perplexed, the agent agreed to call him at home. He will return to the agency in person to collect the airline tickets and hotel reservation vouchers.
The next two weeks are a blur of activity. Charlie feels energized with each task accomplished. He phones the doctor’s office to cancel his appointments. Doctor Collins calls him later the same day to express his grave concerns about the cancelations. Charlie is firm. His mind is made up.
The day of his departure dawns at last. Charlie is ready. The taxi arrives four hours before his flight time. Thirty minutes to the airport with a cushion to allow for traffic or a possible flat tire. None of these delays occur. Twenty-five minutes later, the driver deposits his eager fare at the departure terminal. Bag in hand, Charlie Druthers enters an airport for the first time since the death of his parents.
Managing the airport procedures is not enjoyable, but Charlie is prepared for this. He’s read the security precautions ahead of time and carries a printed ticket and boarding pass. The man at the check-in counter is very accommodating. Charlie’s checked bag rolls up a conveyor belt and disappears.
At the security checkpoint, the officers seem confused. There’s a bit of a delay as he explains that he does not have a cellular phone, tablet, or laptop. Once beyond security, he finds his assigned departure gate and settles into an empty seat. The flight does not board for another two hours. So far, he’s right on schedule.
As time passes, the gate area fills with other travelers. Charlie watches them with great interest. All these people are setting out on a journey, just as he is. He experiences a sense of euphoria. He’s never done anything like this in his entire life. Then the boarding process begins. The euphoria does not last.
Charlie shuffles down the jetway with his fellow passengers. The space is narrow and there are too many people. Stepping aboard the airplane is worse. It seems impossibly small for the number of passengers squashed into the aisles. His heart is pounding by the time he finds his row and wedges himself into the window seat. He stows his small carry-on bag under the seat in front of him, just as instructed.
Once the plane is airborne, the flight becomes an interminable nightmare. There are two people crammed in between his seat and the freedom of the aisle. Soon after the dinner trays are collected, the lights go dim. In what seems like mere minutes, both his fellow passengers are sound asleep and snoring.
Hours pass and his bladder begins to throb. He has no idea what to do. Does he wake the man beside him or climb over the tangle of legs? Just when he is sure he will piss his pants, the sleeping man harrumphs, unbuckles his seat belt, and taps the next person on the shoulder. In a panic, Charlie lurches after the departing man and follows him to the lavatories.
Landing at Heathrow does not end the nightmare. Charlie’s brain is scrambled from the long flight and the close contact with so many strangers. Somehow, he manages to get through immigration and make his way to the baggage claim area.
Bags and suitcases slide down a chute onto a long conveyor. There are too many people, and they crowd close to the conveyor belt. His eyes search for the large piglet sticker that marks his suitcase. When he finally spots the bag, he cannot make his way through the press. He is forced to chase the bag until he comes to a gap in the crowd.
Outside the customs checkpoint, Charlie realizes with a jolt that he is in England, alone, and without any idea what to do next. His brain has gone all fuzzy inside. Then, amongst a sea of signs and placards held aloft, he sees his name.
The sign fills in his vision. He stumbles forward as a desert traveler staggers to an oasis. Holding the sign is a short man dressed in a black suit and tie. A chauffeur’s hat perches above his brown face.
Hope springs in Charlie’s heart. This man is his driver. The travel agent arranged all of this. He is safe. Reaching the driver, Charlie raises his hand in greeting.
“I’m Charlie Druthers. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. The flight was… difficult.”
The man smiled, and Charlie was sure he had never seen a kinder face.
“Not to worry, Mister Druthers. My name is Habib. We’ll soon have you at your hotel. Let me take your bag. Now, if you’ll just follow me. A good night’s sleep and you’ll be right as rain.”
Habib’s words regarding sleep and rain prove prophetic. Charlie swims out of a dream and opens his eyes. He is in a strange bed in a strange room. Details flicker through his sleep-addled brain. Driving from Heathrow into London, listening to Habib describe the wonders of the city. Then being helped into the hotel, finally getting to his room. Collapsing onto the bed.
That’s right, he’s in London! He rolls his legs out of the bed, groans, and sits upright. The curtains are open, and he gets his first view of the city through rain-streaked plate glass.
Never mind. What was it that nice Mister Habib said? Right, not to worry. You’ve packed a raincoat and you can buy an umbrella. No, a brolly, that’s the word.
A simple day of sightseeing turns out to be much more work than Charlie could have imagined. The rain is a constant sheeting drizzle. There is no such thing as a straight street. He gets lost between the British Museum and the Tower of London. Traffic drives on the wrong side of the road. Twice he is almost run down trying to cross the road. By the time he returns to the hotel, he is exhausted.
The second day in London is little better. Footsore and disillusioned, Charlie retreats to his hotel room once more. He contemplates giving up on the whole idea. He can call the travel agent and beg her to change his return ticket, get Habib to drive him to Heathrow.
The third morning in London finds Charlie in a state of despair. Not knowing what else to do, he confides in the hotel concierge. The man is patient and kind.
“Now then, Mister Druthers, no need for worry. London can be a bit much your first time. We’ll soon have this put to rights. The rain’s let up. What would you say to a nice cruise on the Thames? You can see the sights without all the fuss and bother. I can arrange a taxi to take you to the dock.”
Charlie takes to the idea like a drowning man clutching a life ring. Several hours later, he is sitting on the top deck of a tour boat. The sun is shining on the water. Birds wheel and dip over the Thames. The boat passes beneath the Tower Bridge, then cruises past the bulky square of the Tower of London. The Globe Theater on his left, Saint Peter’s Cathedral on his right. He glides by the soaring circle of the London Eye and the Palace of Westminster.
Passing these famous landmarks, he feels a shred of strength returning. By the time the boat docks, he is so excited he rushes back to the ticket booth. Luckily, there are a few seats available. If anything, he enjoys the second cruise more than the first.
Charlie returns to the hotel ready to continue his journey. He will stick to the plan. After all, London is just the beginning. Tomorrow, he will head south to the real destination, The Hundred Acre Wood, Ashdown Forest, home of Pooh and Piglet and Christopher Robin. He realizes he has much to learn about traveling, but he’s not ready to slink home with his tail between his legs. This is his chance to become fearless, just like little Roo.
He remembers how Roo fell into the stream whilst looking for the North Pole. Everyone ran around in a panic, fearful that Roo would drown. Meanwhile, Roo was swept over one waterfall after another. Instead of crying out for help, Roo wanted everyone to see that he was swimming, not drowning. Even after Pooh and Kanga rescue him, Roo cannot contain his excitement.
“Pooh, did you see me swimming? That’s called swimming, what I was doing.”[1]
And what about the time Roo and Tigger were stuck in the tall tree? When Roo understood that Christopher Robin wanted him to jump to safety, was he frightened? No, he was not!
“Tigger, Tigger, we’re going to jump! Look at me jumping, Tigger! Like flying, my jumping will be. Can Tiggers do it?”[2]
Charlie is resolved. If a creature as small as Roo can turn a catastrophe into an adventure, so can he.
The next morning, the kindly concierge calls a taxi to take Charlie to Victoria Station. The train ride south into Sussex is wonderful. He can barely contain his excitement. The train deposits him in Crawley and he catches another taxi to Hartfield. Only two hours after leaving London, he is outside the 15th-century inn that will be his new home for the next three nights.
The taxi drives away, leaving Charlie staring at the old inn, bag in hand. He shakes his head, sure that he is dreaming. He is in Hartfield, Sussex, on the edge of Ashdown Forest, the very place where A.A. Milne wrote the Pooh stories.
He realizes his hands are trembling. There is so much to see and do!
Taking a deep breath, Charlie walks to the inn and steps inside. Within minutes he is checked in. After depositing his bag in the quaint and comfy room, he hurries back out into the streets of Hartfield. Unlike London, he is able to find his way.
A short walk down High Street brings Charlie to Pooh Corner. He enters the busy tea shop and finds one empty table. Soon, he is sipping a cup of tea and nibbling on a fresh scone.
Alone at his table, Charlie feels something unwinding in his chest. The sensation becomes stronger, rising into his throat. He wonders if he is having a heart attack. Then he realizes his cheeks are wet. He touches his fingertips to his face, not believing what he sees and feels. Charlie has not wept since the day of his parents’ funeral.
Now he is blinking through a screen of tears. Two blurry figures appear beside his table as if by magic. He daubs his eyes with a napkin and looks again.
They are still there, two women about his age, very pretty, and not English. One speaks to the other, rapid-fire syllables Charlie does not understand. Japanese, maybe? The other girl nods and turns to Charlie.
“Sorry to disturb. There is no place to sit. We saw you were alone. Maybe another time.”
Her voice is lilting and sweet. Charlie regains enough composure to mind his manners.
“No, please, you’re welcome to share my table. Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Please join me.”
The young women nod to each other as if reaching a mutual decision. They sit.
“My name is Amaya, and this is my best friend Jun. We are from Kobe in Japan. Jun does not speak English so well.”
Charlie does his best to keep up with this strange turn of events.
“I’m Charlie. I come from the USA.”
Amaya smiles at Charlie, but he reads the concern in her eyes. Then Jun is speaking again. Amaya turns to listen to her friend, nodding her head. She turns back to Charlie and translates.
“Jun says she does not think you cry because you are sad. Tears of happiness she calls them. Excuse me if this is rude to say.”
Charlie feels himself growing lighter as if he might float out of his chair.
“No, not rude at all. Jun must be very perceptive.”
“Yes, she has always been like that, since she was a small girl.”
Amaya translates again. Jun smiles at Charlie. She is wearing a pullover bearing an image of Pooh and Piglet walking hand-in-hand. Amaya wears an identical shirt. Jun catches his eye, then fires off another rush of Japanese.
“Jun says to tell you we are fans of Winnie-the-Pooh from the time we were small girls. To be here in this place is like a dream for us.”
Now Charlie is nodding and smiling, his tears forgotten.
“It’s the same for me. Pooh and Piglet were my favorite bedtime stories. My parents took turns reading them to me.”
Amaya translates and Jun responds. The waitress arrives with tea and cakes. Soon they are chattering away like old friends, with Amaya translating, swinging back and forth between Jun and Charlie like a tennis umpire.
The tea is done but there is still so much to talk about. They stroll along Hartfield’s High Street, discussing which sights to see and in what order. They reach the turning for Charlie’s inn. He hates the idea of saying goodbye. Then Jun points up the small street and says something in Japanese. Amaya begins to giggle and translates. They are all staying at the same inn.
He holds the door for Jun and Amaya. As they walk into the inn, Charlie feels a wave of relief wash over him, like a condemned man given a last-minute reprieve. He does not want to say goodbye to his new friends. Charlie has been given another opportunity to take action and that is just what he does.
Charlie remembers the concierge at the London hotel. He approaches the front desk and motions Amaya and Jun to follow. The woman behind the oak counter smiles at Charlie’s request. Yes, a tour of Ashdown Forest is certainly possible, even on short notice. Luckily, it’s not quite high season. Shall she book a tour for three?
A quick bilingual explanation follows. Charlie insists that this is his treat, and that Jun and Amaya will be doing him a great honor by accepting. After a rapid-fire exchange of translations, they agree, but only on the condition that Charlie is their guest for dinner.
The arrangements are made. Their guide will pick them up in the morning. Amaya makes a reservation for dinner in the pub. As they retire to their separate rooms, Charlie is almost beside himself with excitement.
Dinner that evening is the best meal Charlie has experienced in a very long time. During the meal, Jun and Amaya make fun of the English food and pull faces. Their antics have Charlie giggling like a child.
Dessert is treacle tart with clotted cream. As they fight their way through the sticky treats, Amaya and Jun argue over nicknames. After much discussion and translation, Jun is awarded the name of Pooh while Amaya chooses Piglet. They expect Charlie to choose Christopher Robin, but he surprises them by declaring he wants to be Roo.
The following day is one that Charlie will remember for the rest of his life.
Their guide proves to be an enthusiastic young man named Todd. He quickly falls under Jun and Amaya’s spell, waiting patiently while Amaya translates for Jun. The bilingual back and forth becomes the rhythm for the day.
Todd leads them through the Ashdown Forest just as Christopher Robin led the famous Expotition to the North Pole. They marvel at Gill’s Lap, the highest point in the forest which served as the inspiration for the fictional Galleon’s Leap. On and on they go, exploring the Place where the Woozle wasn’t still and the site of the Heffalump Trap.
The final stop of the day is Pooh Sticks Bridge. The trio plays a long round of Pooh Sticks, counting to three and then dropping twigs off the upstream side of the bridge. They race across the planks, giggling like schoolchildren, and drape themselves over the downstream railing. Moments later, three sticks appear on the lazy current. They engage in a spirited debate over whose stick came into sight first, decide on a draw, and thump back to the upstream railing for another go.
The tour ends outside the doors of the inn. Jun and Amaya take control, polite but firm. Jun blocks Charlie while Amaya offers Todd a generous gratuity. Their parting is all smiles.
In a second minor coup, Jun addresses Charlie directly, finalizing her words with a demure bow. Amaya’s translation follows. Jun is taking the three of them out for a special dinner at a gastro pub. Please be ready at six o’clock. Charlie has no choice but to agree.
Their dinner that evening is a long and wonderful meal. Over desserts, Amaya and Jun try to give Charlie their email addresses. Charlie is forced to explain that he does not own a computer. Amaya laughs and shakes her head.
“What are we going to do with you, Roo?”
She turns to Jun. Charlie waits while the two women confer in their native tongue. Then Jun reaches into her bag and produces an electronic tablet. A long explanation follows, which Amaya translates.
It is very important that they stay in touch. Charlie does not need a computer. A simple tablet like this will allow him to send and receive emails. Charlie promises to buy one as soon as he returns home.
Inside Charlie’s heart, a door opens. He does not hesitate to step through it. He speaks of his apartment back home in the city. There is plenty of room for guests, although he has never had any. Before he realizes what is happening, he is telling them the story of his parents. When he finishes speaking, Jun is in tears. Amaya leans from her chair to hug him.
It is a bittersweet moment, but Charlie will not let the evening end in sadness. He smiles and launches into a recap of their wonderful day together. Soon they are laughing again, teasing each other about the silly things they did.
Amaya and Jun leave the next morning. The parting is full of promises. For their part, the two women promise to visit the USA, tour the city, and be Charlie’s guests. Charlie vows in turn that he will fly to Kobe within the next year.
And then they are gone.
Charlie has another day before he must return to London. He catches a minibus back to Ashdown Forest, carrying with him both the sting of parting and the balm of the promised reunions. It is a good day because he decides that it will be so. He misses the giddy silliness of yesterday but cherishes the quiet joy he carries with him today.
* * *
High above the ocean, Charlie peers down into darkness. The last lights of Ireland fade away far beneath the wings. He imagines unseen waves. While he ponders the dark sea, flight attendants move down the aisle collecting the dinner trays.
Charlie pays attention to their progress. When the last cart clears the aisle, he leans to his seatmate and excuses himself. The woman beside him nods and motions to the man beside her. When the narrow path is clear, Charlie clambers into the aisle. The woman smiles at him.
“Good idea. You’ve done this before.”
She falls in behind him as Charlie walks to the rear of the plane. Charlie allows her to take the one vacant lavatory. He is not in any rush. As he waits his turn in the darkened aisle, he anticipates his return to the city.
Doctor Collins will be full of questions. His patient has never done anything like this. Charlie imagines himself answering some of the good doctor’s questions. Some, but not all.
More exciting to Charlie is the prospect of dropping in to see the nice woman at the travel agency. He looks forward to surprising her with the news about planning a trip to Japan.
This time, he will have an email address. His very first chore, even before he calls Doctor Collins, is to go shopping for a new tablet.
Jun and Amaya will be so pleased to see that he’s kept his promise. He can picture their beautiful smiles as they read his first email. Charlie is certain that Pooh, Piglet, and Roo will remain the best of friends. He thinks the ghost of A.A. Milne would approve.
[1]. “Winnie-the-Pooh” A.A. Milne 1926
[2]. “The House at Pooh Corner” A. A. Milne 1928
BIO
Marco Etheridge is a writer of prose, an occasional playwright, and a part-time poet. He lives and writes in Vienna, Austria. His work has been featured in over one hundred reviews and journals across Canada, Australia, the UK, and the USA. His story “Power Tools” has been nominated for Best of the Web for 2023. “Power Tools” is Marco’s latest collection of short fiction. When he isn’t crafting stories, Marco is a contributing editor for a new ‘Zine called Hotch Potch. In his other life, Marco travels the world with his lovely wife Sabine.
Website: https://www.marcoetheridgefiction.com/
