A Very Blakely Christmas 2012
Jamie Ott
A Very Blakely Christmas
Eedle Bops and Doodle Drops
By Jamie Ott
Copyright 2011 Jamie Ott. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used without written permission.
Black Crowe (Robert Crowe) Books
ISBN-13: 978-0615560359
ISBN-10: 0615560350
For all inquiries, please contact [email protected].
A Very Blakely Christmas
It seemed like it couldn’t be the best Christmas of Blakely’s dreams.
“Eedle bops and doodle drops, and cosmic taxi streams,” he sighed, leaning his forehead against the cold, partly fogged window.
Snow was falling, and sleet was pelting.
Beams of light streaked for miles down the street.
The air was alight by the moon and stars, making large hazy poofs where, once, there was none.
The sky was frosted and the ground was blanketed; the fire was roaring, and his family - “Sigh” - was so boring.
They celebrated Christmas in the living room.
Singing songs and being chums, and stuffing their faces with fare, in fun.
Blakely, instead, watched the storm rage outside his window.
Not that he had much to be ungrateful for, but he would’ve liked to have had just a little bit more.
Something adventurous, and perhaps something fun!
Maybe a night on Santa’s sled; he’d love to go for a run!
At the door stood his cousin, Marcus.
“Blakely?” he asked, “don’t you wanna come and play?
Momma’s got a new hippo-fishing game!”
Not that Marcus was totally bad, but Blakely was tired and extremely mad.
He was sick of never knowing anything, which is why he demanded his parents do for him, that Christmas, just one thing:
Take him to the North Pole so he could see the Christmas mystery.
With these thoughts in mind, he turned and he said, “I don’t want to play! I just want to go to bed!”
Surely he was bad for being like that on Christmas Eve, but he’d told his parents before, and they just didn’t believe!
He needed proof.
Yes!
He needed to see the reindeer, the elves, and Santa Claus on Christmas Eve; the most magical night of the year.
Blakely loved having Christmas cheer with gifts and treats, and family fun.
But unless he got to meet Santa Claus, right away, there was no way he could enjoy such play.
Then looking out the window, at the white and yellow cosmic taxi streams, he noticed little bits of flurry swirling up and down the street.
Like dirt devils in the middle of winter, wind was whirling, making the water on the street ripple.
Narrowing his eyes, he tried to see more clearly what it was that made the doodle drops dance in the street so animatedly.
Looking through binoculars, Blakely saw something in the cosmic taxi streams:
Little tiny busy bodies riding along the beams.
They had bundles on their backs while striding little four legged things.
He couldn’t see too clearly, with eedle bops and doodle drops obscuring.
Something else caught his attention.
Little footprints in the street and snow, one by one, made their way up to his window.
Up that close, he couldn’t see how close the footprints in the eedle bops got to be.
Something with eyes as yellow as garland on a Christmas tree popped up its head and frightened Blakely.
Falling backward with a loud thump, the breath was knocked out of him, and on his rump a lump.
Frozen in stillness, he remained where he was and wondered where the yellow eyes, he’d seen, had gone.
Up in the window, the eyes appeared again, bright and glowing, and curiously real.
These eyes were different, though, and strange; these eyes were red and made him afraid.
Carefully, he walked to his closet.
He kept his eyes on the window, as he reached inside and grabbed his baseball bat.
When quick as a flash, the window was up, and inside they came, dripping in muck.
Bat at the ready, and Blakely unsteady, he shouted, “Who are you?”
“My name is Cris,” said the first one who was skinny yet robust.
Blakely noticed his partner had a pointy nose and a tiny little pot-belly gut.
“My name is Mot and we’ve come for you.
We’ll take you to Santa’s workshop, and see how you do.
If you work hard and spread Christmas cheer, we’ll show you the mystery that Santa holds dear.”
Now take my hand,” said little Mot, which Blakely did and aptly shrunk.
“What did you do to me?”
“We had to shrink you, you see.
Now come on,” he said, and they hopped out of the window.
Suspiciously, Blakely followed them down the street, over to the lights that streaked up the street.
“Now take my hand, once again.
Hold on tight and pay attention my friend.”
Blakely held on tight to Mot and Cris, as was instructed.
He watched as they pointed their toes onto a yellow beam.
They were caught up.
Fast as lightning, they swung and they swinged along the yellow beam as Blakely screamed “Ah haha,” and “Wee!”
At the speed of light, they traveled so fast, passed buildings and large snow masses.
All around them, Blakely could see elven men on horses with packages, traveling with speed.
Like moving inside a sun beam, bright yellow-white light around them was all agleam.
Suddenly the scene turned to the thickest snow, and they continued on until they reached someplace that was frozen well below zero.
Gingerly, Cris stuck out a toe, and he disappeared to one side.
Mot stuck out his toe, and disappeared off the other side, yanking Blakely off of the roller coaster-like ride.
