This is a crossover of Polar Express and Rise of the Guardians. I claim no ownership. Polar Express and it's characters belong to Chris Van Allsburg and Robert Zemeckis. Rise of the Guardians/Guardians of Childhood belong to William Joyce and Dreamworks.
The Polar Express! A train unlike any other! Unmatched in its beauty, speed, elegance, and far more importantly, its fun and magic! How do I know this? Well…I…may have train-hopped a ride a few Christmas Eve's. Or every Christmas Eve! But don't tell North. Now that I'm a guardian he offered to give me a never-ending ticket, but where would the fun be in that? My name is Jack Frost, though on this one particular night every year, I prefer The Freight Hopper. Why? Well I got the name from a friend. He didn't know who I really was so he gave me a name, or description, based off of our interaction that night. What can I say, hitching a ride brings out a whole new side of my personality. Let me tell you the story of that memorable trip, on the Polar Express.
That Christmas Eve was going as it usually did. I spread my snow then headed to the North Pole. The fireman Smokey and the engineer Steamer were preparing the locomotive, the chefs were working on preparing the refreshments, and the conductor bustled about as he always did trying to do everything and make every part of the night run perfectly. While everyone was busy, I grabbed a spot atop her rear passenger car's roof. Settling myself and my bag of gear into the snow I looked at the clock. 11:30 PM, in 25 minutes the magic would begin. Through the workshop window I could see the organized chaos that was the yetis finishing the last of the toys. I could see my friend/part time nemesis, Phil among the others and was excited for when he got to enjoy himself at the festival tonight. At 11:50 the last of the preparations were done and the conductor was holding his pocket watch, ready as ever.
The magic started at exactly 11:55. The conductor's watch clicked three words above its face: Time to go. The train whistle blew and the steam puffed-we were off. The magic stopped time as it went; everywhere at exactly 11:55 the train appeared. House after house, kid after kid, the train began to fill. I enjoyed seeing their eyes light up at the train and was more than excited for later when it would reach its destination. How North decided which kids were invited was still a mystery to me-well, at least most of them were. There were always some whose reason for an invitation was very clear. Peeking over the conductor's shoulder I saw we had two such very important stops left. These were the kids who needed some wonder!
The train stopped and the house door opened. A boy with a blue bathrobe over his PJs walked out. His slippers deep in snow, he trudged his way to the train's side. "All aboard! All aboard!" Out of the steam-very dramatically might I add-the conductor appeared. "Well, you coming?"
"Where?" The boy asked.
"Why to the North Pole, of course! This is the Polar Express!" The grandeur of the train and his pride in it were evident in the conductor's voice.
"The North Pole?" Just as much confusion and disbelief was in the boys voice as pride had been in the conductor's.
"Ah, I see. Hold this please, thank you." The conductor handed his lantern to the boy then took out his clipboard. "Is this you?"
The boy looked at his page on the list. Suspicious now, he answered, "Yeah."
"Well, it says here. No photo with the department store Santa this year. No letter to Santa, and you made your sister put out the milk and cookies. Hmm, hmm, hmm. It sounds to me like this is your crucial year. If I were you, I'd think about climbing on board." They stared at each other for a bit and the conductor took his pocket watch out. "Come on, come on, come on! I've got a schedule to keep-Uff!"
I shook my head: the conductor knew that as long as the train was out time stopped. But the man would push for the schedule he set himself.
The blue robed boy stepped back from the conductor and train. "Suit yourself." The conductor stepped onto the train and waved his lantern, signaling the engineer they were ready to leave.
No one was ever forced to come on the Polar Express; it was a choice. I'd seen kids say "no" before and it broke my heart each time, but for some reason, this time hurt more so. Before the train picked up too much speed, the boy changed his mind and jogged to the train, grabbing the railing and hopping aboard. He made his way inside and I returned to my spot on the roof. The trip through town led us past the Main Street window displays. The excitement from inside the train was audible, even all the way up where I sat.
As the edge of town came into view, I moved to the edge to see the next pickup. Like the boy before, this kid was very hesitant to board. Unlike the boy before, the kid waited just a little too long to catch up. I saw him run as fast as he could only to stumble and fall into the snow. I couldn't sit by and let someone who wanted to ride be left out, so I leapt off the roof and went to the boy's side. Though he tried to hide it, I saw the tears. I reached out, thankfully without passing through, and helped the boy to his feet. He was in a yellow night shirt and simple pajama pants. No slippers on his feet, just socks, and a few holes were obvious in his outfit. But I could tell it wasn't the cold or the fact he fell that brought the tears. I couldn't sense an ounce of fun in him; he was so depressed and sad that his fun was snuffed out. Not even one of my special snowflakes would help. I just had to get him on the train!
I looked up, worried about how far she had pulled ahead only to see the train parked a few blocks away. I dusted the yellow shirt clean of snow then whispered, "hey they're waiting-go! You won't regret it, I promise." I was gone before the kid saw me. My curiosity of why the train had stopped pushing my usual wish to be seen to the back of my mind. "Wind, make sure he gets aboard okay. I'll hold the train if I have to."
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