The Adventures of Elephant

By Alicia M. Argo

Illustrated by Wren N. Argo

Elephant's life with the Argo family began the way it normally does for stuffed animals.  He was chosen from the shelf of matching elephants at a giant store, carefully wrapped in tissue paper, placed in a crisp bag overflowing with baby blue tissue paper and gifted to the new parents along with many well-wishes for the future.  Caleb was the intended recipient of Elephant, but he and Elephant did not have the instant connection required to forge a life-long child-lovey bond.  So Elephant spent much of his first years slouched over in the basket in the corner of Caleb's room.  Time passed, Caleb grew (and forged his own inseparable bond to Blanky), the family moved houses, and before long, new babies made their arrival into the family.  

It's hard to recall exactly how it happened, but one day Wren, Caleb's little baby sister, got her hands on Elephant and did not let go for years.  

Maybe it was the fuzzy blue fur, the funny little trunk, its floppy striped ears, or the way it rattled when she shook it, but Elephant instantly became a part of her.  In the crib, in the car, playing in the living room, on vacation, Elephant went everywhere Wren went.  Elephant's rattle from Wren's crib every morning meant that Wren was awake and already playing.  

When Wren was sleepy, nervous, sick or sad, Elephant was in her arms.  But he was also there for fun times:  getting tossed around the room like a ball, posing in modeling photo shoots, playing outside, swinging, and hanging out on the front porch - he was there for it all.  

His blue fur quickly became threadbare and his seams weakened.  Elephant endured many a surgery:  sewing up open holes, reattaching appendages.  Yet no matter how worn or tired Elephant appeared, Wren still loved him.  After eight years of being loved, Elephant was more than a little dingy and even a bit decrepit.  Neither he nor Wren seemed to mind.

One summer, when Wren was growing long and tall and her play involved more drawing and writing and computers than tinkering with toys and stuffed animals, the family took a trip to the beach.  Elephant, of course, came along too.  Because Wren was the only daughter, she had a room to herself while her brothers shared another room.  She and Elephant luxuriated in the queen-sized bed for the week.  The family played at the pool, delighted in the beach breeze, and generally just enjoyed themselves, all while Elephant napped in the bed, twisted up in the sheets.  When it came time to return home, Wren packed her own bag and loaded it into the van.  Mom checked the floors of Wren's room and even under the bed - all clear.  It was only once the family arrived home that Wren realized that she had left something behind - Elephant!

Mom's heart sank as she recalled all the many times over the previous eight years when Elephant had gotten lost under the bed or behind the couch pillows or in the van.  Then, there was no going to bed without Elephant.  In those days, Mom and Dad schlepped up and down the stairs desperately seeking Elephant in every desolate corner of the house so that bedtime peace may be restored.  Now, if Elephant was hundreds of miles away, how would Wren sleep?  Would she be able to cope?  Or should they scurry back to Florida to rescue him?  Mom waited for Wren to cry, to break down, to get angry.  But to Mom's surprise, Wren just shrugged and returned to her room where she continued unpacking.  This was even more disconcerting to Mom than Elephant being left behind.  How could Wren be nonchalant about possibly never seeing her beloved Elephant again?  What did this mean?  

With maybe some tears in her eyes, Mom nevertheless sent a message for the owner of the beach condo to see if Elephant could be rescued.  Alas, Elephant had still been tangled up in the bed sheets.  They could return Elephant for a $25 fee, plus shipping.  Though that was probably far more than Elephant ever cost, could one really put a price tag on Elephant?  Mom didn't think so, and she heartily agreed to send the fee right away.  

Meanwhile, Wren still did not show any signs of missing Elephant.  She never even asked if he was being sent back.  Mom wondered if she didn't care if Elephant got deserted at the beach...

Days, then weeks passed.  Finally, a brown paper package arrived in the family mailbox.  Mom held it up to her ear, gave it a shake and instantly knew it was Elephant by the familiar rattle that came from within.  Mom made a great ceremony of having Wren open the envelope in the kitchen, sure that their reunion would evoke deep emotions within.  To be sure, Wren smiled and was happy when she saw Elephant slip from the tattered envelope, but there were not happy tears or exclamations of how she had missed him.  Wren simply smiled and noted that he smelled funny and needed to be washed.  

Somewhere between the package opening and the return of the clean Elephant to Wren's room, Mom remembered her own old, ratty, pink blanky.  How it was with her all the time in the beginning, how it eventually just sat in the corner of her room, and how it now was destroyed, lost or possibly in some tattered state in a storage box somewhere (and Mom had not clue which it was).  It was all part of the growing process:  going from a baby, fully enamored with her lovey, to a little girl who still kept it around for occasions, to a young independent woman who didn't need loveys, to a mom of a young girl with loveys of her own.  She didn't need her blanky anymore, but she would always remember how it made her feel safe, special and loved.  After all, isn't that the purpose of a lovey?  Mom wiped the tear that slid down her cheek away and tossed the freshly laundered Elephant on Wren's bed and closed the door.

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As Mom closed the door, Wren reached down to pick up Elephant off the bed, and she brought him to her nose.  She breathed him in...he was back to his old, comforting smell.  She pressed him next to her cheek, grateful to have her old friend back.  Then she gave him a little shake; she had missed that familiar rattle.  Propping Elephant up on her bed, she then kneeled by the bed so that she and Elephant were face-to-face.  "So Elephant," she said, "tell me what really happened while you were gone."  Elephant gave a little nod of his head and rattle of his body, then he began his tale...

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That day started just like all the other vacation days. I was cuddled next to you when you awoke to the warm sunlight cascading onto our bed.  You popped your head up, tossed the covers and me off to the side as you bounded off to the kitchen.  I lay under the sheets, the comforter and a pillow, which, I have to admit, was quite comfortable.  So comfortable in fact that I dozed off again into silent slumber.  I don't know how long I slept, but it must have been a long while for when I awoke, the sunbeams and shadows fell at different angles from the morning light.  And yet, it was completely silent - no footsteps up and down the stairs, no sounds of the television or children arguing, no clattering from the kitchen.  Perhaps everyone was still at the beach?  That's at least what I told myself for the first hour or so.  But as the shadows slanted longer against the wall and the room grew warmer, I had a sinking feeling that I had been left behind.

For a lovey who was used to living in a house with three children, the silence was uncomfortable and unendurable.  At last, I heard the creak of the front door, but there was no bounding up the stairs as usual.  Instead, I heard a clatter of plastic parts and the rhythmic pattern of stomp, thunk, stomp, thunk, stomp thunk.  The maid finally made her way to my room, dragging the retro vacuum in tow.  One moment, I was lying, waiting with my big blue ears pricked for the roar of the vacuum and the next I was ripped from my comfortable repose, bundled with all the bed sheets, and thrown down the stairs to the entry level.  I had indeed been left behind.

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The hot soapy water and stark white sheets swirled around me while the thoughts and emotions deep inside my stuffing did the same.  How would I make it home?  Or would I?  Would I just be tossed in the trash?  Would the copious bleach that the maid used give me white spots all over?  I closed my eyes and succumbed to the spin cycle.  Giant elephant tears mixed with the funny smelling laundry detergent as I gave in to the centrifugal force.  

Sometime later, I awoke to find myself engulfed by heat and humidity as I was tossed to and fro, my rattle in rhythm with the beat of the dryer drum.  After a never-ending amount of time in which I thought I would burst into blue flames, the machine finally emitted a loud buzz and stopped its infinite inferno.  The maid opened the door, scooped out all of the sheets, myself included, and tossed the bundle onto a mountain of white laundry.  To my great joy, my blue fur remained spotless despite all the bleach.  But still, my future felt bleak.  The maid worked her way through the pile of sheets and towels, one by one.  When she saw me, a blue island in a sea of white, she picked me up, shook me ever so slightly, and said, "Oh!  You must have been left behind!  I'll put you with all the rest."  Then, like she was scoring the final three-pointer to win the game, she threw me clear across the room into a bin in a corner on the other side of the washing machine. I landed softly atop a fuzzy white bear, a pink floppy rabbit, shimmery and squishy sea creatures and other sundry abandoned stuffed animals.  

That they had not been touched by any human in quite a while was obvious by the cloud of dust that exploded as I landed.  That they had been forgotten was plain on their forlorn faces.  Like the proud elephant that I am, I bravely stared into my dark future:  I would likely never leave from this heap of fur and fluff and dust.  My girl would probably never hug me or shake my rattle again.  Heartbroken, I closed my eyes and spent my first night away from my girl in ages with a crowd of despondent and desperate not-so-loved loveys.  

The minutes passed slower than molasses on a cold January morning.  My companions remained lifeless - apparently the lack of love quickly demotes a lovey to just another stuffed animal.  It was just me and my thoughts to keep me company.  Eventually, the long night ended, and the morning sunlight began to creep along the floor until the shadows elongated again.  With each passing moment, I could feel a bit of my life slipping away...

Until sometime around late afternoon, the maid bounced back through the front door without even laying her keys down.  She walked over to the basket where I lay, picked me up and said, "Someone must really love you if they're willing to pay the $25 return fee.  You're going back home."  

Rattle!  Rattle!  I was going back home!

She stuffed me into a brown envelope that was to be my home for the next week.  And let me tell you, it was a long and cramped week.  For starters, my left foot was crammed up next to my right ear - not the most ergonomical way to travel.  The envelope smelled funny and barely had enough air for me to breathe.  And the sounds and sensations I experienced along the way were unreal!  Bumpy car rides, a noisy takeoff and landing in the cargo hold of an airplane, and the stop and go of the mail truck as it made its deliveries.  But I could endure it all because with every bump and stop, I was one step closer to home.

After days of constant movement, I was placed in a dark silent box and the door resolutely slammed shut.  I was alone and still.  As I had never been acquainted with the mail system, I had no idea what this meant.  Had I been mistakenly left behind again?  Was this the end?  My spirit began to sink again...but all hope was not lost.  I heard the unmistakable meow of cats and children playing.  And then, the door to my box opened, and I, still in my brown abode, was lifted out and given a shake.  Then, as if my rattle were confirmation, I heard a familiar voice say, "He's here!  Wren!  I have a surprise for you!"

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"And you know the rest of the story."  Elephant looked down, suddenly shy.  "But, Wren, I have to ask.  You didn't really seem that excited to see me at first.  Did you really miss me?"

"Oh, Elephant!", Wren exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes, "Of course, I missed you!"  She paused.  "It's just that I'm getting older now, and things are changing.  I'm changing."

The forlorn facade of the forgotten loveys began to take shape on Elephant's recently excited face.  Sensing this, Wren picked him up and hugged him tightly.  "But one thing that will never change is my love for you.  You will always be my Elephant and will always have a spot on my bed."  Elephant's faded trunk and ears perked up, his stuffing grew a little fluffier, and he grew a bit taller.  Rattle!  Rattle!

Wren giggled, tossed Elephant on the corner of her bed and ran out of the room, already moving to her next adventure.  Elephant sighed contentedly because his adventure was over.  He was back where he belonged.