Peekaboo

Patrick Kane blinked awake, struggling to open his bright blue eyes. As he gazed around, he found himself in a strange and animated forest. He sat up and gazed around the forest. It wasn’t real he knew that for sure. He was in the middle of a clearing.

On a tree ahead of him was a Wanted poster for some guy named Tyler Seguin. His nose looked messed up and weird looking. Had he taken a puck to the face? Patrick wrinkled his own nose up at the sight.

He looked down at the grass and saw his legs. He was wearing black pants that cut off at the top of a pair of tall brown boots. Okay, maybe they were capris or long shorts. As his gaze wandered up his body, he found that he was wearing an animated version of his favorite blue shirt. It cut off at the elbows and buttoned down the middle, ideal for maximum comfort. Around his neck was a red cape, clasped together by some kind of belt buckle medal. It was gold in color and had the emblem of the Chicago Blackhawks, the Indian Head etched into the circular brass connector.

His eyes flew open wide and he yelped, launching backward. He caught the cape with his hands and fell backward, narrowly missing his head on a massive boulder. Instead he fell back gazing up at the sky and catching a green kudzu curtain. He pushed himself up and turned so that he could see.

The curtain seemed to be concealing an entrance of some kind. Curiously, he lifted one of his hands and stuck it through the foliage. He found that it went through to the other side. So it must have been a tunnel! Maybe it was his way out of this crazy place and back to the locker room in the United Center.

He got to his feet feeling slightly awkward at the new feeling of boots. What the hell am I? He didn’t exactly want to know. As he brushed himself off, he spotted his bag and hockey sticks lying untouched. One of the sticks had broken in the travel, but the other one had turned a brilliant silver color under the sun.

What the----? Patrick thought to himself, as he snatched the stick up. He eyed it, flipping it over in his hands. I hope I can still play with this?

He grabbed his bag by the strap and hauled it over his shoulder. Then he ducked into the strange plant curtain and emerged on the other side. He gasped, throwing his hands over his mouth at once.

In front of him lay a stretch of land in some sort of valley-type setting. Walls of mountains rose on either side and a waterfall cascaded down into a river, which ran and looped around through the land. At the far end of the valley place, across a short bridge, was a tall stone tower. It was a massive and spectacular piece of architecture.

Patrick gripped his silver stick in his hands and gazed around. “Hello?” He called out. “Is anyone here?” He question echoed around the valley, bouncing off of the mountain edges.

The Blackhawk wandered forward, trotting across the bridge. He saw colorful fish jumping in the water and to the left side of the tower. The water from the giant falls created a thick mist, which cooled the temperature and air down. It was actually quite pleasant and beautiful.

The hockey player wandered up to the white stoned pillar building. He rounded the place once looking for an entrance. He saw none. He looked upward and spotted a small window, where a brownish-red colored rope dangled down. He reached out and touched it. It didn’t feel like a rope. It felt silky and smooth and almost like…..hair!

With one eyebrow raised and his curiosity at the highest point, he tangled the hair rope around his hand and began to climb with a shrug. He had to find out what was going on here!

He finally pulled himself over a ledge with flowers and plants and crawled into a small room. He scrambled to his feet and placed his bag down on the ground in front of him. He kept his stick in case he needed a weapon of some kind.

“Hello?” He called out again, stepping carefully and cautiously around.

He gazed around the room, spotting a huge blue wardrobe to the side. A bed jutted out from across the room. It was covered by a bedding veil to conceal the person it belonged to, which was obviously a female. As he continued to look around, he spotted paintings, pictures of stars and suns and lanterns...and the Chicago Blackhawks’ symbol.

Patrick cocked his head in wonder and amazement at the penmanship of the painter or artist who had drawn all the images on the roof and walls.

His eyes came to stare back at the window behind him, where the hair rope ventured over the edge and into the room. In fact, it was everywhere! Patrick freaked out, raising his stick up. “Hey, this isn’t funny Sharpy and Tazer! I mean it!”

He strained to look ahead of him and see what the hair or rope was attached to...where it was coming from, but that half of the room past the bed was bathed in shadows and a darkness.

Patrick backed toward the window again, but suddenly something moved in the shadows and halted him. It appeared to drop down from the ceiling and land before him. And before he could move, a hair lasso was thrown at him and the hair rope of brownish red entangled itself around his arms keeping him frozen in place. In the panic, he dropped the silver hockey stick, which clattered to the ground.

He struggled to break free from the ropes around him, feeling as helpless as getting in a fight with Matt Cooke on the ice.

“Who are you and how did you find me?” a female’s voice spoke to him.

Patrick stopped in his struggle and stared forward into the shadows, where the voice came from. His blue eyes widened in shock, as a gorgeous female walked out from the shadows. She wore a long purple dress with puffy sleeves and her eyes sparkled a hazel green color. And her hair….her hair was a beautiful brown color with a reddish tint to it. As she stepped out of the shadows, the sunlight brought out the red more and made it shine.

She looked like a princess.

“Uh…” Patrick managed to get out, taken aback by her beauty.

“I said who are you and how did you find me?” she repeated, with a little more emphasis.

He cleared his throat and managed to speak. “I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you, but may I just say...hi!” He gave her a smoldering "Kaner" look.

“What?” the woman hissed, confused at his sudden fearlessness.

“How are you? The name’s Patrick Kane. I should really get going...”

The woman screwed her face up in a cute, puzzled look. Like she didn’t know who Patrick Kane was. But who did NOT not who Patrick Kane was? He was a famous Chicago Blackhawk for the NHL. Everyone knew, right?

“Alright, Patrick Kane, who else knows my location?” She snatched his stick up and pointed it out at him.

“Alright, alright. Don’t break that! It’s my hockey stick!”

“Hockey stick? Is that some kind of sword? It’s a bizarre looking sword, if you ask me!”

“No, no. It’s not a sword. It’s a hockey stick!”

“What’s hockey?”

“It’s a sport!”

“A what?”

She wasn’t kidding. She had no idea. The woman continued to hold the stick out at his chin. He could only crane his neck backward.

“Alright redhead,” Patrick began.

“It’s Ariel!”

“Mermaid! I woke up in the woods and happened to stumble across your tower...and….”

“And you decided to come up and see me, right?” She finally folded her arms, still holding the stick. She looked proud at how she had handled herself. She was brave and she had caught the Chicago Blackhawk. “So what do you want with my hair? To cut it?”

She began to round the hockey player, who struggled to eye her as she walked around, occasionally jabbing at him with the blade of his own stick.

“What?”

“Sell it?”

“No! Listen the only thing I want to do with you hair, is get out of it. Literally.” He tried to pull his hands and arms free, but they were still helplessly bound to his sides.

“Oh, wait you don’t want my hair?”

“Why on Earth would I want your hair? I have my own, see?” He tilted his head down for her to see, before snapping it back up.

She was still trying to grasp the truth, “Wait, you’re telling the truth?”

“Yes. I saw a tower. I climbed. I’m not even sure why I am here or where here is!”

“Well, Patrick Kane, my name is Princess Ariel and you’re in Avondale!”

“Avondale? Is that in the United States? Or Canada? Maybe Europe?”

“No, no. Avondale is home. What are the United States, Canada and Europe?”

Okay something was wrong. He was beginning to question if he was even on Earth anymore. He watched as the woman walked up to him and touched his curly hair. Uh, didn’t she need his permission to do that? He guessed not, as she looked deep into his eyes and then peeled his lips back to see his pearly white teeth in his mouth.

Then she stepped backward. “You must be a new prince! Or something…no matter, I will release you. Maybe Amy, Lauren or Chelsea know something and can help out! We will head into the heart of Avondale.”

“Okay…”

Patrick rubbed his wrists, as she gave a sharp yank and pulled her hair off of him. He gazed at her. “Can I have my...hockey stick?”

“Yeah. We’ll have to discuss that. Never heard of hockey before!”

“Football?”

“Nah.”

“Baseball?”

“Nope.”

“Soccer?”

“No, what land are you from?”

“Chicago!”

“Well, Patrick Kane of Chicago - where ever that is - you are in Avondale now. And we don’t know what sports are or hockey…”

She had to be kidding. But she wasn’t. And he couldn’t exactly return to Chicago right now. He didn’t know how. And this princess chick was willing to help him out, so he would humbly oblige and go with her.

It was time to check out this so-called Avondale place.

Notes

Here's the new chapter for this story. I am having so much fun with this.
You may recognize the setting from Tangled, and this first chapter does run similar to it, but I am not basing the whole thing on Tangled. There will be different parts of Disney princess movies rewritten for this story.
Oh and I will post of the characters tomorrow, as I finally figured out who all is going to be in it! I think most will be pleased! I will be having Sidney, and yes, he is going to be...good! He will be a Penguin sidekick and I am also going to have Torey Krug in this as well. :)
You'll see the other characters and all of them tomorrow. YAY!! THIS IS FUN!!!! :D