Calgary, Alberta, Canada


On a lit-up runway lined with snow, is a red vintage airplane. At the front of the cockpit is Dillon Dubé. He sports a leather beanie with large goggles on it, a brown leather jacket lined with fur inside and a white scarf.

He picks up a black speaker from among the buttons and levers of the plane and pulls it up to his mouth.

“Welcome aboard to the Dubé Plane!” he speaks into it in a cool tone. “This is your captain...and pilot...and copilot...and, well yeah, it’s me, Dillon, speaking! Please keep your hands, arms, feet, and legs inside the moving plane at all times! Thank you!”

Dillon slips the speaker back into its holder. He then grabs his goggles from his head and snaps them over his eyes, enlarging them. He reaches to the buttons and levers and begins pressing and flipping them, lighting them up.

The airplane’s engine roars to life. Its propeller in the front picks up speed until it becomes a circle of silver. The wheels roll, moving the aircraft down the runway. The vehicle gains momentum as the propeller maintains its high-speed spinning.

Then the airplane lifts off from the ground and soars up, up, up into the inky skies.

Behind the pilot are the airplane’s passengers: Elias Pettersson and Lias Andersson. The two are wearing matching Swedish scarves; Elias wears a blue jacket with yellow sleeves while his friend wears a yellow jacket with blue sleeves.

Soft snow begins to swirl around the two.

Elias, who is closest to Dillon, peers at the back of his head. “This is the plane to Sweden, right?” he asks in a dry, Swedish accent.

“Yup!” the pilot remarks with his eyes still on the dark sky.

“Good.” Elias settles back in his seat.

“I can’t wait to go back to Sweden and see all the Swedish beauty!” Lias exclaims, throws his hands in the air. He turns to his friend with his eyes filled with awe. “There’s no other place to celebrate Christmas like Sweden!”

“I beg to differ,” a cocky, Finnish-accented voice pipes up from behind them.

The two Swedes turn around. Sitting behind them is Juuso Välimäki with his signature smirk. He sports a white and blue beanie with the word “Suomi” patched on it, along with a white jacket with blue stripes.

Elias crinkles his nose in disgust at him. “What are you doing here?”

Juuso shoots him a confused look. “Flying. I’m flying to Finland!” He holds his hands out.

“This is the flight to Sweden, not Finland,” Lias tells him matter-of-factly.

Juuso reverts his hand out toward the pilot. “Well, Duber told me he would take me to Finland on this flight.”

Elias rolls his eyes, landing them on Dillon. “Are we going to Sweden, Dillon?”

“Yessir!” he chirps.

Elias turns back to Juuso with a sly smile. “Hah. We’re going to Sweden, not Finland.”

Lias flicks the blue pom-pom on top of Juuso’s beanie. “Swedes only, Finnish boy.”

“And Canadians!” Dillon remarks from behind them.

Elias eyes the Finn with crossed arms. “You’re on the wrong flight.”

Juuso blows air out through his mouth: “Pfft.” He slumps with an unamused look. “I would’ve gone with Patrik to Finland, but he’s going by foot.”

Elias and Lias exchange awkward looks.

“Besides,” the Finn continues, twirling his wrist in the air, “Duber and I are on the same team, so it’s much more convenient for me to fly with him.”

Elias glares at him. “It’s not convenient for us with you.”

“Yeah!” Lias blurts out, throwing his hands in the air. “I had to fly from New York City to Calgary to catch this flight!” He waves his index finger between him and his friend. “I thought it was just gonna be Elias and me!”

Elias has crossed arms. “I had to fly from Vancouver to Calgary to get this flight! If I’ve only known you would be here, I wouldn’t have gone.” He narrows his eyes at the Finn.

Juuso furrows his eyebrows at him with a playful aura. “So why did you even come here?”

“Duber gave us a discount,” Elias replies flatly.

“Uhhh…,” Dillon himself starts, “...does anyone have a compass?”

Lias whirls around to gawk at his head. “Aren’t you supposed to have a compass? You’re the pilot!”

From the front, Dillon grimaces at an unfortunate realization. His knuckles are white around the control wheel. “I think...I left it...in my kitchen…”

Elias groans. “I got it.” He begrudgingly pulls out his smartphone from his jacket’s pocket and navigates to the compass app.

On the screen is a black compass chart. The circle spins before placing “S” at the top of the screen.

Elias’s eyes fly open. “South?! We’re heading south?!” He snaps his head up at the pilot. “Dillon, we’re heading south! Sweden is not south!”

Dillon’s mouth turns into an “o.” “Ohhh...okay, that might explain the weather change…” He scans the skies from above.

The swirling snow is now gone. In its place are stars scattered across the clear black skies.

“Turn this plane around!” Lias barks from behind him.

“Take us up north!” Elias shouts along.

“We need to get up to Sweden!”

“This is not the way to Sweden!”

Juuso sits back in a calm demeanour as he watches the hot-headed Swedes throw their demands at the pilot.

“Um, well, that’s gonna have to wait,” Dillon squeaks out.

“What?!” the Swedes blurt out together.

Dillon glances at his gas gauge. The red arrow is dangerously close to the “E.” “I, um, ran out of gas.” He snatches the speaker and speaks into it, “Emergency landing!”

“Nooo!!!” the two Swedes yell.

The plane descends through the brisk night. Below is pitch black, no light in sight from the land.
Dillon guides the plane to roll onto the vast, sandy grounds. The plane passes lone cactuses before coming to a halt near a jagged hill.

The passengers and pilot of the plane hop off. Dillon pulls his goggles back up to his headwear. They gaze around their new, dark surroundings. The only source of light is coming from the full moon.

Lias frowns at the strange scene. “This isn’t Sweden!”

“It’s Finland, right?” Elias eyes Juuso in a mocking manner.

Juuso places his hands on his hips. “Finland is next to Sweden!” He sticks his face into his. “That would mean Sweden is a desert too!”

With a huff, Elias whirls to the pilot, who is next to him. “Where are we?”

Dillon doesn’t tear his eyes away from the lone scene. “In a desert.”

Elias slaps his forehead.

Juuso spins in his place to see every angle of the desert. “I don’t see anyone around here…!”

Lias places his hands on his head and cries out, “Oh nooo! We’re doomed! We’re all doomed!” He falls to his knees. “We won’t be able to spend Christmas in the snow with our families!!!”

Once his echoes fade off, the clomping of hooves responds. Three dim, white, bobbing lights appear from the edge of the jagged hill.

Dillon’s eyes light up. “People!”

Dillon rushes up toward the lights. The three passengers follow after him.

The source of the three lights steps out from behind the hill. The lights cast enough luminosity to reveal who is behind each light:

In the middle is Clayton Keller, who is riding a brown horse. He has a brown cowboy hat on his head and a red bandana tied around his neck. He wears a brown, long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots.

To the right is Jakob Chychrun on a brown and white horse. He has a white cowboy hat and is wearing a white long-sleeved shirt under a black vest and jeans with cow-spotted chaps.

To the left is Tyler Steenbergen on his brown horse. He sports a brown cowboy hat, white long-sleeved shirt with a brown vest and also jeans with brown chaps. Each has their lantern attached to his horses’ reigns.

“Well, well, well, what are you folks doing in a desert at a time like this?” Clayton asks in a Western accent.

The cowboys’ horses halt, nickering and swaying their tails.

Elias crosses his arms with a crinkled nose. “Well, what are you guys doing here at a time like this?”

“We are the Good…” Clayton points to himself. “...the Bad…” He reverts his pointer finger to Jakob. “...and the Ugly.” He lands his pointer finger to Tyler.

Tyler gawks at him. “Hey!” he yells in his Canadian accent. “I thought we went over this already!”

Juuso holds a palm out toward them. “Aren’t you guys Clayton, Jakob, and Tyler?”

“By day, yes, but by night--” Clayton straightens up and peers ahead with a heroic aura. “--we roam the deserts!”

The four stare up at them with blank looks.

“You guys need a better hobby,” Elias points out.

Dillon shakes his head. “Okay, where are we?”

“Y’all eleven miles west from the outskirts of Phoenix.” Jakob extends his hand out behind him.

Elias’s jaw drops. “Phoenix?! Like in Arizona?!”

Juuso eyes a towering cactus next to him. “Makes sense by seeing this guy!” He taps it, instantly retracting his finger. “Ow!” He shakes his hand. “They do hurt!”

“No!!!” Lias cries out to the three cowboys. “That’s farther from Sweden than Calgary! Than New York City!” He drops his face into his hands. “I should’ve taken a normal airline…!”

Dillon flashes a grin up at the three. “Okay, that’s good we’re near civilization!”

Clayton gazes down at the four with scrutiny. “How did you fellows end up here?”

The pilot’s grin falters. “Uh, well, I flew them from Calgary…” He traces an arch outward with his pointer finger, drawing out the flight’s path in the air. “...forgot my compass…” He brings his pointer finger back toward him. “...was heading the south instead of the north-east for three hours…” He holds his palm out from his side. “...and ran out of gas.” He drops his hand and presses his lips up at him.

“That sucks,” Tyler says.

“Well, glad we can find ya.” Clayton juts his head out behind him. “Hop on ‘n we’ll take y’all to town.”

“Thanks!” Dillon exclaims.

The four climb onto the three horses: Dillon sits behind Clayton; Elias and Lias join Jakob’s horse; Juuso climbs onto Tyler’s horse.

With a click on his tongue and the pull of his reigns, Clayton directs his horse to turn around and trot back toward the hill. The two horses with the others follow behind him.

“Y’all can stay at our place,” Clayton suggests. He stares up at the starry sky with a dreamy smile. “We’ll sing some carols. Eat some ham. Have cider. Because hey--” He shrugs and peers ahead. “--in this season, it’s all about the more, the merrier.”


The End.

Notes

8 days until Christmas!
5/12