What If?

What If? Part 3

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. IT IS NOT MEANT TO REFLECT ANY FACTS ABOUT THE KRATT BROTHERS OR THEIR FAMILIES.  I HAVE NO AFFILIATION WITH AND DO NOT OWN ANY COPYRIGHTS TO THE KRATT BROTHERS OR THEIR ENTERPRISES. THIS IS PURE FICTION FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY.

What If? Part Three

The word whispered on the edges of his dream ... verboten: forbidden. Chris found himself alone on a dark street. In an alley, a black-cloaked figure was waiting for him. As the black cloak swirled, it pulled Chris toward him. The dark and burning eyes  were all that was visible of the figure's face. The man's head was covered with a three-cornered hat. The eyes between the hat and the cloak tried to see into Chris' soul, but Chris fought it with everything he had. Chris tumbled away, and he was suddenly underneath a decorated Christmas tree. In contrast to the alley, the room was bright and full of jovial partygoers. Apparently Chris was a child, as everyone was fawning over him. But they were German. A happy hue and cry went up as everyone welcomed another cloaked figure. Chris recognized him as Herr Drosselmeyer from the Nutcracker Ballet. Was Chris the only one who thought Clara's godfather was a little creepy with that eye patch? Herr Drosselmyer came up to him and gave him a gift. Chris opened it. Instead of a Nutcracker doll, it was a harmonica case emblazoned with the word KRATT.

The holiday tree had grown huge, blocking the light. It turned into a black iron oak tree. The party had vanished. The tree grabbed his leg. Chris flailed his arms as the ground fell away. The black branches snatched Chris up, up, up to a moonless sky. Chris cried out for the one person who could save him, but no sound came out of his mouth.

Chris awoke in the woods with a start. He remembered another party.

Martin and Chris had returned to their family home at last, loaded with movies of their adventures. When the party was over and the guests had gone home, his grandfather said, "Chris, I want to talk to you." The old man stared at his grandson for a good minute before he finally spoke. "You know, our German ancestors fought wolves and wild boars, magic and fairytales, to come out of the Black Forest.  And now you want to go back in."

"I don't believe in magic, Grandfather. I'm just trying to - "

"Apparently you do. Because you are under its spell. You and your brother. And it is Verboten!

Later, in their room , in their twin beds, Chris hissed, "Dude. He knows."

Martin twisted his feet under the covers. At 26 years old, he felt like a little boy again, and he knew that Chris felt like a little boy too. "If Grandpa senses ... our connection, maybe someone else will."

"We have to think only of kids and animals now. No school would let us near any kids, let alone endorse us as children's program creators."

"You are right. We have worked so hard. But, Chrissy, it was ... "

"I know, Marty. Believe me, I know. But it's over now."

From that point on, the relations between the Kratt brothers were platonic. They still traveled together, but their sleeping together was just literal.

Their hard work landed them a show. From then on, it was just up for the Kratt bros. Children adored their creatures, brought in from everywhere into the zoologists' safe and capable hands. The childlike energy and joy of the hosts resonated greatly. Academic and entertainment accolades poured, in along with grants and funding. They adventured everywhere, no place too far. By now the crews were large, with cameras everywhere. And Chris and Martin's fans were legion.

Chris and Martin married and had kids, their greatest joy. Their families took much energy. Their animated show was the next logical step. In every way, their animated versions didn't just represent them, they were them. No one, not even their spouses, knew each other better than they did.

Chris broke from his reverie. The sun was setting. He had to go home. But Martin. Chris went back to his car and got his phone. He called Martin's wife. "Is he home?"

"No ... he said he was working late."

"Okay. Can you tell Tania I am too?" He could hear Martin's kids clamoring in the background.

"Can you tell her yourself? They really want to watch Pinocchio before bed. "

He smiled in spite of himself. Such innocent kids. All the parents had worked hard to make their childhood like theirs. "Sure. Bye."

He texted his wife that he would be late, and to not wait up for him.

Martin decided while he waited for Chris, he would write all the scripts himself. That way Chris could focus on taking care of both their families. For three hours, the words flowed easily, his knowledge and love for the animal world in cohesion with the characters of the Wild Kratts world. It was a wonderful world. It was the natural world plus all their dreams come true. Even one dream that the two had given up long ago. Each show contained inside jokes and old-fashioned love letters of sorts from one brother to the other. One would write, one would direct, but Martin and Chris were of one mind and ... heart. Martin walked to the to window. In the pink dusk, Venus was visible. He ate dinner and went back to work. Halfway through his eighth script, Martin's hands became numb and his vision started to fail. Oh, no, he thought. Not yet. Not yet!

Martin stumbled over to the window and put his hand on the glass. He searched the now dark sky. A half moon was up, and it had a bluish cast. Suddenly a star burst from the firmament and streaked a dazzling trail across the sky. As it streaked toward earth, Martin said, "I wish .. I wish.. " He could not get the words out. They had been dormant in his heart for too long.

So this is what it felt like to die. It's just that Martin never thought that the light he saw would be ... blue?

A gentle voice spoke to him, a voice had heard somewhere before. "Boy. Boy, wake up."

He opened his eyes. "I know you. You're a nice lady. But I'm not a boy  anymore," he said hotly.

On the way to the animation studios, the phone rang. It was Tania. Chris did not pick up. If he heard her voice, he would be a blubbering mess. He had to get back to his older brother.

By the time Chris got there, night had just fallen. He unlocked the door, nodding to the security guard at the front desk, and went to their office.

"Hey, I'm sorry I was gone so long. I've got ahead on our scripts." He waved the stack of paper.

His brother didn't answer.

"Martin? Martin!"

TO BE CONTINUED