Winning Story for An Advent Adventure

I’d like to thank my wonderful judges who, after much deliberation and sweat, decided on this delightful tale as this week’s winner! Presenting *drumroll* The Candle Rabbit by Katherine Milliken!

The Candle Rabbit

Katherine Milliken (Grade 7)

Jane Maurice smiled her slow, contented smile as she pedaled along the quiet road. She had never been alone anywhere before, and now she needn’t be home until morning!

She had arranged with her mother to go get something in town, then drop by her friend Maura Hallet’s house to see if she could visit, and hopefully stay overnight. Mrs. Maurice trusted Jane immensely; she was sensible, sturdy, reliable–didn’t even her name sound slow and steady? So Mrs. Maurice consented when Jane brought forward her plan.

Jane thought about her mission in town. It shouldn’t take long–her mother had just told her to get Advent candles.

“I’d better get thick ones,” Jane decided. “No use having them all burned out only half-way through Advent!” Having this decided, Jane lovingly dwelt on the knowledge that she was going out alone–alone–and she was only thirteen! Maggie Johnson was two years older than her and she had never stepped off her yard without one of her parents. “Of course,” said Jane scornfully to herself, “Maggie Johnson is so stupid with directions that she would forget the name of her own street if she didn’t see it every morning when her parents drive her to school.” Jane said it all the more scornfully because she didn’t approve of schools, being home schooled herself. She was immediately sorry for this uncharitable thought, however, and said aloud in remorseful tones, “i really oughtn’t be too hard on poor Maggie. She may not be clever, but at least she’s good.”

“Yes, that’s quite true,” said a voice right in her ear. “If it’s a choice between being clever and being good, you ought to choose being good. It’s just the same as choosing to be a rabbit if you’re asked if you would rather be a rabbit or a human. Ow! Why did you bump like that? You nearly threw me off.”

The reason Jane had “bumped” was that she had turned her head to look at whatever was talking and saw a tiny red rabbit sitting comfortably on her shoulder. This had made her jump.

“Don’t look so frightened, please,” said the rabbit. “It gives me the creeps. It makes me feel like you’re scared of me. Though, to be sure, I don’t know what you are scared of.”

“What are you?” gasped Jane, recovering her powers of speech.

“Why, the candle rabbit, of course,” said the rabbit, pulling a peppermint out from somewhere and sticking it into its mouth. “I thought everyone knew that,” it added less distinctly.

“But–but–Mr. Rabbit–”

“Oh, call me Canbit,” said the rabbit amiably. “Everyone does.”

“Yes–but–why are you here, please?”

“Why, didn’t you say you were getting candles?” said Canbit in surprise. “Of course I had to help you choose. Why, I knew a man once who bought a candle with no wick.”

“I didn’t think I needed any help choosing,” said Jane, who was getting over the shock.

“I’m sure you didn’t, but I did,” said Canbit, and, evidently thinking this ended the conversation, he pulled out another peppermint and began whistling through the peppermints in a sort of muffled way.

“Why, surely you’re not going to this store,” said Canbit as Jane parked her bike after a long, slightly uncomfortable ride.

“It looks like I am, doesn’t it?” Jane retorted.

“Perhaps it does, but you’re not,” the candle rabbit said regally. “You have to go to that store.” He waved his paw toward a sagging building with a crooked sign saying, “The Candle Shoppe” in faded red.

“I’m afraid that it looks like an unrespectable establishment,” said Jane primly.

“Maybe it is, but they’ve got good candles,” said Canbit, taking out his ninth peppermint.

“I don’t know if I should go in there,” said Jane, eyeing the broken windows.

“What are you afraid of? Why, no  candle shopper has ever gone astray under my charge!” Canbit cried angrily. “Just go in. Nobody’ll eat you.” With this cheerful encouragement Jane rode the few yards to The Candle Shoppe and parked her bike. She saw cobwebs on the door as she walked up to it.

“Are you sure there’s really anybody here?” Jane whispered.

“Sure I’m sure,” said Canbit, almost taking out a tenth and thinking better of it.

Jane opened the door hesitantly and walked in. She could hardly see anything because of a thick smoke that covered everything. She wrinkled up her nose in distaste, and Canbit had a coughing fit. Jane could only tell that anybody was there by the great puffs of smoke coming up from a pipe and a newspaper in the air which Jane assumed someone must be holding. She glanced to the side and thought she saw candles, so she slowly walked in that direction, feeling in front of her so that she wouldn’t bump into anything. When she finally reached the wall, she found huge shelves full of candles. Canbit jumped onto one with an experienced air.

“Too thick,” he muttered. “You stay right here.” Jane obediently stayed while Canbit climbed about. She soon lost sight of him.

“Your candles haven’t changed a bit these last ten years, Ned!” called Canbit’s voice, some ways away.

“Oh?” grunted a voice behind the newspaper.

“That’s right,” said Canbit happily. “Oh, I remember this one! The one with the   spiders.” Jane shuddered and hoped fervently that Canbit would not chose that one. Finally he called, “Over here, Jane. These will do.” Jane walked blindly towards his voice and at last reached the spot. Canbit was leaning against a fairly thick purple candle. Two more purple candles and one pink one of the same size were next to it. Jane felt a little disappointed. Canbit had not chosen very spectacular candles.

“If I’m not mistaken, this will cost every penny you’ve got,” said Canbit, “but I did the best I could.” He scrambled back on her shoulder and Jane picked up the candles and blundered over to the counter with the invisible Ned. She set down her candles with a grateful sigh.

“Ten dollars,” said the voice from behind the newspaper.

“Told you so,” whispered Canbit in her ear. Jane got out the money.

“How does that rabbit know how much money I have?” she wondered as she laid down her ten dollar bill. The newspaper fluttered as a hand appeared and grabbed the money. The hand disappeared again, and the newspaper straightened as Jane gathered up her candles and left.

“There, aren’t you happy now that we came here?” demanded Canbit as Jane put the candles in the basket of her bike and breathed deeply.

“I don’t see why I should be,” said Jane. “They’re just ordinary candles. And how did you know how much money I had?”

“My dear human,” Canbit began, taking out his tenth peppermint, “you say these candles are ordinary? Why, don’t you know that the first one will finish burning the last day of Advent? I call that special. As for the money–why, I just know those things, that’s all.” Jane narrowed her eyes suspiciously, then suddenly realized it was dark.

“Why did you spend so much time in there?” she cried. “Mom said that I shouldn’t ride when it’s dark.”

“All right,” said Canbit calmly, “let’s spend the night at my house.”

“How far away is it?” asked Jane.

“Not far at all. Just walk to the back of the shop.” Jane did, clutching her candles. Canbit directed her to lift up a rotting board, and she found a staircase underneath it, curving down into the ground. Jane shuddered.

“Don’t tell me I have to go down there,” she implored.

“All right, I won’t tell you,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s go.” Jane glared at him.

“I don’t like tunnels,” she said. Canbit looked shocked and took out his eleventh peppermint.

“Don’t like tunnels!” he said. “No wonder you have problems. You either have to go down the tunnel or stay here. Not that I would mind staying,” he added.

“Well, I would,” Jane said. “At least the sides are smooth.” Then she bravely started down, with Canbit sucking thoughtfully on his peppermint, stopping to tell Jane to put the board back on the top.

The tunnel was actually rather nice, as these things go. It was not stuffy, but cool and fresh, and the sides were very smooth. The stairs were made of stone, and Jane finally realized that the sides were made of wax.

After a while the tunnel veered up, and finally they reached a round wax door. Canbit took out a tiny key and a peppermint and unlocked the door.

Canbit’s house was really fantastic. Almost everything was made of wax, and Canbit said that his house was really a hollowed out chunk of an enormous candle. He had all sorts of food, but no meat. Canbit was horrified when he heard that Jane’s last meal had been a roast beef sandwich.

“What gross hideousness! You’ll find no such stuff here,” he said indignantly.

After a long and sprawling dinner, Canbit and Jane sat together by “the fireplace”–this was basically a huge candle stuck to the floor which had multiple wicks. Canbit told her many stories of candles–very interesting candles, too. Jane could never have believed they were so interesting.

After a while Canbit graciously asked if Jane would like to retire for the night. He did have a bed her size–and it had a real mattress. Jane had been a little afraid that she would have to sleep on wax.

Jane lay awake a long while. There were several candles in her room,and it was really very cozy. She thought dreamily of Canbit’s last story, in which a rabbit had hid a sapphire in a candle to keep it from being stolen, and it became one of the most famous candles in the world, and still existed. Soon she fell asleep.

The next morning she and Canbit slipped out after a quick breakfast–Canbit had said he wanted to see the candles safely home. As Jane rode home on her bike with Canbit whistling stuffily through a couple of peppermints, she suddenly realized that soon Canbit would be gone–and she had really grown very fond of him.

“Oh, Canbit, are you really going to go?” she burst out. Canbit looked thoughtful.

“Well, I don’t know if I will just yet,” he said. “I want to be here to say ‘I told you so’ when the first candle burns out on the last day of Advent. I guess I’ll stay a while, but keep in mind I’ll be gone a lot. Candle shoppers will need me.”

Just then Jane came in sight of her house, and she felt very happy. She was almost home, and Canbit would stay a while longer. “Oh, Canbit,” she cried, “you’re the dearest creature in the world.” Jane turned into her driveway.

“Really, when you put it that way,” said Canbit, “I think I have to say that you’re right.”