“Victory is ours!”
Christopher’s triumphant voice startled everyone and they looked over to the edge of the woods. Dirty and disheveled, but with a huge smile on his face, Christopher burst into the center of the clearing.
“Hip-hip-hooray!” the others hollered back, while tumbling out of the log. “Hip-hip-hooray!”
“T-t-time for a celebration?” Piglet asked.
Christopher smiled. “Great idea!” he said, pleased to have made everyone happy. He had never realized how satisfying defeating a fake monster could be. But then his smile faded, and he frowned. “But I still have to find Pooh.”
“You’re Christopher Robin,” Roo said, all traces of his earlier worries subsiding. “You’ll find him Somewhere.”
Staring down at the young kangaroo, Christopher wished he had as much faith in himself as the others now did. But he had already been all over the woods. It seemed unlikely he would find Pooh easily. But then Roo’s words sank in. Suddenly, Christopher’s face brightened. “That’s it, Roo!” he cried. “He’s waiting for Somewhere to come to him!”
Christopher stopped and stared at the grassy hill ahead of him. Beside him, the rest of the group looked on, watching to see what he would do next. They had helped him get back to the Enchanted Place—the place he had said good-bye to Pooh all those years ago—but somehow, they sensed that he had to take the final few steps on his own.
Christopher put down his dirty overcoat and briefcase, then nodded to the others. After that he began to walk up the small hill. He was surprised to find that he was oddly nervous, as though he were walking up the hill to meet a stranger, not a childhood friend. But then he realized that it wasn’t nerves. It was guilt. The only reason Pooh had come out here was because Christopher had sent him away.
Upon cresting the top of the hill, Christopher smiled. There, just as he had imagined he would be, was Pooh. The bear was sitting on their log, his back to Christopher. In his hand, he held the red balloon.
“Hello, Pooh,” Christopher said softly as he came up behind the bear.
Pooh turned and smiled at him, as though he had been waiting. “Hello, Christopher Robin,” he replied.
For a long moment, the pair of friends just looked at each other. Then, hesitantly, Christopher stepped forward. His voice was soft and full of remorse when he spoke. “I’m sorry, Pooh. I’m so terribly sorry. I never should have yelled at you.”
“But I am a Bear of a Very Little Brain,” Pooh replied. His answer wasn’t spoken in an accusatory or angry manner. It was in a matter-of-fact tone, one of understanding, which made Christopher’s heart ache even more.
He shook his head. “You are,” he said, “I think, a Bear of Very Big Heart.” Touched by Christopher’s words, Pooh lowered his head, a flush rising on his chubby cheeks. Taking that as a sign he had been forgiven, Christopher moved around the log. “You’ll be glad to know everyone’s safe and sound. They were hiding from a Heffalump, which turned out to be, well, me. And Owl’s weather vane.” He sat down beside Pooh. Together they stared out at the horizon. The fog was gone, replaced by bright sunshine that shone down over the wood, making it glow. “Thank you for waiting for me.”
“It’s always a sunny day when Christopher Robin comes out to play,” Pooh said, giving his friend a big smile.
Christopher tried to smile back, but he still felt bad. “I’m not so sure of that,” he finally said, staring down at his hands. Beneath the dirt, blisters were forming from his “fight” with the Heffalump. “I’m not who I used to be.”
Pooh shook his head. “But of course you are,” he said. “You’re our friend. Why, look at how you saved everyone today. You’re our hero.”
Raising his eyes, Christopher met Pooh’s gaze. The bear was looking at him with absolute trust and faith. It was the way Evelyn used to look at him. The way Madeline still looked at him from time to time. It was the way his team looked at him. But for so long, he hadn’t noticed. Worse still, he hadn’t truly cared. Hearing his childhood friend call him a hero felt simultaneously wonderful and like the greatest lie ever told. “I’m not a hero, Pooh,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m…lost.”
Pooh’s response was quick and perfect. “I found you, didn’t I?” he said. Leaning over, he wrapped his arms around Christopher as far as they could go. Then he squeezed.
In the bear’s embrace, Christopher felt his body stiffen. He shifted awkwardly, unsure what to do. And then, once more, he thought of Evelyn. Of the first hug they had shared when they began dating. How he had melted into it and how it had felt like home. He thought of the first time he held Madeline in his arms. She had been so small—and he had been so scared that he would break her. But she, too, had just melted into him. His heart had never been fuller than in that moment.
And suddenly, just like that, something inside Christopher shifted. His heart, closed for so long, opened. Leaning down so he could get a better angle, he squeezed Pooh right back. The bear gave a long, happy sigh, and Christopher felt him melt against his side. Turning them both so they could face the valley below, Christopher watched as the sun began to sink beneath the horizon. His shoulders, no longer weighed down by incredible worry, felt light. His heart, open to possibility, felt strong and young once more. As the sun slipped farther and farther away (and the stars came out), Christopher allowed himself to relax—and just before his eyes shut and he drifted off to sleep, with Pooh still beside him, Christopher realized…he was, for the moment, happy.
Unfortunately, the feeling was short-lived. It lasted for only a night.
Waking with a start, Christopher saw that sun was up. Beside him, Pooh was still sleeping. Sitting bolt upright, Christopher startled Piglet, who had been sent by the others to wake the two friends. The skittish pig leaped backward as Christopher’s eyes grew wide and he jumped to his feet.
“Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no!” he cried. His shoulders instantly tensed and his heart began to race at its normal anxious speed. He had spent the night in the Hundred-Acre Wood! That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. He needed to be in London!
“What is it?” Pooh asked, slowly waking up.
“It’s tomorrow!” Christopher replied.
Pooh looked confused. “It’s usually Today,” he pointed out.
Despite the current waves of panic washing over him, Christopher couldn’t help smiling at the bear’s rationale. “Well, yes,” he agreed. “Of course, it’s today. Which means I slept over, and I need to be at the office in—” He looked down at his watch. It was broken. Letting out a yelp, he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “How could I have let this happen? And my things!”
As he began to race helplessly around the log, Owl, Rabbit, Eeyore, and the others walked up. They had also spent the night nearby. Having found Christopher Robin again, they didn’t want to lose him. But as they approached, it was clear that he was going to be leaving again soon.
“Don’t you worry,” Owl said. “As my old uncle Orville used to say, ‘Worry is the way to concern.’” His head twisted to the side and he blinked his big eyes. “Or was it, ‘Concern is the way to confusion’? Or, no, it was—”
Pushing past Owl, the rest of the gang walked up to Christopher. They had his overcoat and briefcase. Kanga nodded toward them and smiled in her sweet, kind way. “We got all your belongings nice and dry now,” she said.
Christopher smiled back, touched by their thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” he said, taking the briefcase. Instantly, his expression changed. Once again, Christopher looked like a serious businessman, not a happy-go-lucky boy playing make-believe in the woods. “I couldn’t forget my case of Important Things. I’m sorry I have to go. But I’ve already stayed far too long.” Putting on his overcoat, he stuffed a hand into his pocket. His fingers closed around a round metal object. His compass. Pulling it out, he held it out to Pooh. “You keep this. So, if anyone goes missing again, you can find them.”
“Thank you, Chris
topher Robin,” Pooh said. Then, very seriously, as though he were presenting something of great value, Pooh turned and grabbed the red balloon from where he had tied it to the log. “And you should take this. For Madeline.”
Instinctively, Christopher started to shake his head no. But looking at his old friend, he stopped and, instead, reached out and took the balloon.
“What’s a Madeline?” Roo asked. He had been hoping that he would maybe get to play with the red balloon and was slightly disappointed it was going away with Christopher Robin. “Is she more important than your case of Important Things?”
“Well, yes, of course. Absolutely,” Christopher replied. “She means the world to me.”
“Then why isn’t she with you?” Roo asked.
Before Christopher could answer, Pooh stepped forward. He put a paw on Roo’s shoulder. “She has work to do, Roo,” he said in his very serious Pooh voice, repeating what Christopher had said to him back at the country house. Hearing it from Pooh, Christopher realized how terrible it sounded.
Kanga seemed to agree. “Oh, the poor dear,” she said sadly.
“No, she—” Christopher stammered, trying to make it sound better but knowing he couldn’t. “She…likes work.” He stopped and sighed. He was wasting time. “Look, I’ve got to rush. Good-bye everyone. Nice to see you again.” And then, before he could change his mind or start to feel bad at abandoning his newly found friends, Christopher turned and walked away.
Behind him, the animals watched him go with wide eyes. Silence descended on the hill. Reaching up, Piglet took Pooh’s paw in his own. It looked like they were going to have to find a way to do without Christopher Robin—again.
Christopher quickly made his way back to the tree and the green door that would bring him home. Bending down, he cringed as pain shot through his joints. His attack on the Heffalump had been intense and his body, now older and less resilient, was letting him know that he had pushed it. Biting back a groan, he made his way through the door, emerging a moment later in the woods behind his family’s country home. Out of habit, he looked down at his watch. It was still broken. But it didn’t matter. He knew that if he were going to make the train and get back to the city, he had to rush.
Picking up his pace, he hurried through the woods. The red balloon bobbed and weaved in the air behind him. Catching a flash of red, Christopher felt a fresh wave of guilt as he realized how quickly he had left Pooh and the others. A part of him longed to have stayed, enjoying the freedom he had felt for that brief time. But stepping out of the woods and onto the lawn, he caught sight of the house. It was a visible reminder of his real-life responsibilities.
Christopher held his breath as he crossed the lawn. The last thing he needed was to attract the attention of Evelyn or Madeline. They would have so many questions. But just as he reached the house, he caught sight of his old bike leaning against the siding. The balloon string pulled at his wrist. Glancing around to make sure he was still in the clear, he walked over and quickly tied the balloon to the handlebars of the bike. It would be a nice surprise for Madeline when she came outside.
“Father!”
Madeline’s high-pitched shriek of happiness stopped Christopher just as he turned to go. Looking up, he saw his daughter’s face peering down at him from her bedroom window. Foolishly, as though he would somehow become instantly invisible, Christopher ducked down. But Madeline could still see him.
“Father?” she repeated, opening the window and peering down. “What are you doing here?”
Christopher looked up at Madeline and then back toward the road. He could make a run for it. Pretend he didn’t see her or hear her. He groaned. That was the stupidest thought he had ever had. Of course he couldn’t just run away from his daughter.
“Were you in the woods?” Madeline called down.
“Yes, but…” Christopher stammered, not sure what to say. It wasn’t like he could just come out and explain that he went through a door to another part of the woods and had been playing with his childhood animal friends for the past day. That sounded crazy!
Just then, Evelyn stepped outside. Seeing her husband, she cocked her head in confusion—and a flicker of hope flashed in her eyes. It dimmed as Christopher shrugged apologetically. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said to both his wife and daughter, “but I have to go.”
“You can’t stay?” Madeline’s voice had grown smaller and she was looking down at him now with sadness, not hope.
The expression broke Christopher’s heart and he silently cursed himself for stopping to tie that balloon. If he had just kept going, he wouldn’t be standing there now, trying to explain himself to his family. “No, darling,” he said finally. “I have an eleven o’clock meeting I’m terribly late for.”
Madeline’s face crumpled. Pushing back, she slid the window shut and disappeared from view. Beside him, he heard Evelyn sigh deeply. “Sorry,” he apologized again. “I didn’t mean for her to see me. But I need to be on the next train.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew his excuse sounded weak. To his family, it seemed as if he had come out suddenly, only to turn around and leave.
Evelyn stared back at him for a long, silent moment. Her eyes were cold, and when she finally spoke, her voice was icy. “Well, then you better go,” she said.
“There’s a good explanation for this,” Christopher said. “I promise.”
“I’d love to hear it,” Evelyn said, folding her arms, waiting.
Christopher looked back at her, trying to see if there was any pity behind the coldness in Evelyn’s eyes. He did want to tell her. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to apologize, and he wanted her to understand that he wasn’t trying to mess up. He wanted to tell her about his adventures in the Hundred-Acre Wood and how he had defeated the Heffalump and found Winnie the Pooh. When they had first started dating and when they had first been married, he would have told her. He would have told her and known that she would have believed him and been enchanted. But as he continued to look in her eyes, he realized that he had pushed her too far away. That she was lost to him in a way that he couldn’t quite grasp. And while he knew it was entirely his fault, the pain was still terrible. “I can’t,” he said softly.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Turning to go inside, Evelyn looked back over her shoulder. There was nothing left in her eyes but disappointment. It was worse than the look she had been giving him. “I was thinking that Madeline and I should stay here longer,” she said. “The country’s good for her. For us.”
Christopher felt the blood drain from his face. He thought back to the night in the house when he had stood with the suitcases, worrying that he had pushed too far. Maybe he hadn’t then, but it certainly seemed like he had now. And he couldn’t really blame Evelyn.
“Do you really think that’s best?” Christopher wondered.
“I do.”
“For how long?” he asked, not actually wanting to hear the answer.
Evelyn shrugged. “I don’t know, Christopher.” Then she walked up the steps and opened the back door. Looking down at her watch, she sighed. “You’re going to miss your train.” Then, without another word, she entered the house, letting the door slam shut behind her.
For one long moment, Christopher stayed there, rooted to the spot. His breath hitched in his chest and he felt as though he were drowning in quicksand. He had to go. He had to. It was the responsible thing to do. If he didn’t make the meeting, he would be fired and the company would probably shut its doors. But if he did go, what was going to happen to his marriage? To his life?
Taking one last look up at the window of his daughter’s bedroom, Christopher let out a sad sigh. Then he turned and ran down the drive. As his feet pounded the ground, he couldn’t help wondering: had he just ruined everything?
Madeline stared at the bookshelf in front of her. In her hand, she held one of her assigned summer-reading textbooks. She had read it cover to cover and written the required repo
rt. In fact, she had read every one of her summer-reading books and done all the reports. It was time to put the books away. But for some reason, she found herself hesitating.
She still couldn’t believe her father had been there—in the country. And that he had just left. She didn’t understand. Had she done something wrong? Had she said something wrong? She had diligently done all her work because that was what Father had wanted. She had only gone on one bike ride so far. Why hadn’t he stayed? She looked at the book in her hand. She liked books because books had answers. They made sense. Her father didn’t make sense to her—not anymore, at least.
The sound of the stairs creaking startled Madeline, and she looked over her shoulder to see her mother walking up them with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies. Crossing the landing, she held out the treats.
“I believe I am done with these for now,” Madeline said, not taking one of the offered treats.
“Good! You know these books like the back of your hand,” Evelyn said, trying to sound cheerful. The look on her daughter’s face was heartbreaking. She was a little girl. She was a little girl spending time in the country. But instead of being outside in the fresh air, she was inside, studying. As Evelyn watched, Madeline carefully shelved the final book and then stepped back. “Darling,” Evelyn asked, “what would you like to do?”
Madeline cocked her head. What would she like to do? She honestly didn’t know. Now that she was done with her work, she didn’t have anything she had to do. She sighed. What she really wanted to do was see her father. But he had gone back to the city, so that wasn’t a possibility. She looked around the room, her eyes landing on a box of toys.
“I’d like to play,” she said with a determined nod.
“You would?” Evelyn said, surprised. Hope flooded through her. Perhaps Christopher’s brief drop-in hadn’t devastated Madeline as much as she thought it had. Maybe she could allow herself to be a child for once and relax. But then Madeline went on and the hope for such a result faded.
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