“On a cold winter morning, on a Greyhound bound for nowhere.  Met up with a...”

“What on earth are you singin’, boy?  Those ain’t the words.”

The lanky young man looked up from his phone guiltily, and pulled out his headphones.  “Sorry.  I heard the Chipmunks version growing up, and it kinda fit.”

The grey-haired man in the bus seat next to him chuckled softly.  The lines on his face deepened as he smiled, illuminating a careworn face that, despite everything those bright blue eyes had seen, still smiled before it frowned.  “At least you know it.  Kids these days.  No respect for the classics.  Present company excepted, apparently.”

The boy smiled sadly.  “Never did fit in with them.”

The droning silence of the long-haul bus filled the silence for a time.  The old man smiled again.  “I guess I should start, to fit the song.  Not a gambler, though I can read faces pretty well.  Runnin’ from, or runnin’ to?”

“From.  Definitely from.”  He tucked his phone away in his pocket, but didn’t quite meet the old man’s gaze.  The pain in the eyes told a long sad story, as did the poorly-healed scar running down the far side of his face.

The old man didn’t flinch.  “Been there.  Gotta say, runnin’ to is the better of the two.”

“So what are you running to?”

That got another chuckle.  “Fair ‘nough.  Got a daughter in Vegas who’ll be happy to see me if I can make it there for Thanksgiving.”

“If?  That’s a week from now.  I know buses take forever to get anywhere, but surely...”

“Takes longer if ya hafta’ sing for your supper.  I wasn’t half bad at it once, but these days...”  A long weary sigh punctuated the sentence.

“That sucks.  I... don’t think I can give you enough to make it to Vegas.  I think I have enough to get there myself.”

“An’ I wouldn’t ask.  Barely even met ya.”

“Is it true what they say about Vegas?” asked the boy, eyes alight with curiosity.

“Hah.  Most of it, yeah.  Lotta what you hear is the surface glitz, underneath it’s...”  The old guy shrugged.  “Seedy, but... human, for all of that.”

“So there are Venn Machines on every corner?”

That got a belly-laugh.  “Good gravy, where’d you get that idea?  Kari says there’s a bunch down in Boulder City, and shuttle busses between them and all the hotels.  Lotta venned people on the strip, tourists and regulars alike.  It’s crazy, but totally Vegas.”

“Kari?”

“My daughter.”  He reached over to shake the boy’s hand.  “I’m Ken.  And you are?”

“Alvin.”

That got a bushy eyebrow lifted.  “Really?”

The boy laughed.  “What can I say, Dad was a fan.”

“Was?”

Alvin turned away, and stared out at the passing scenery for a while.  “Worked in a railyard.  Some asshole forgot to set the brakes.  Everything went to hell afterward.”

“Ah.  Mother?”

Alvin sighed, and touched the scar.  “Let her boyfriend do this when I was... inconvenient to him.  When he started on my si...”  Alvin clamped his mouth shut, and his arm curled protectively around his backpack.

Ken just nodded slowly.  “Some people in this world.  So many good ones, but all it takes is one bad one.”

Alvin smiled at him shyly.  “Are you one of the good ones?”

Ken winced, the lines on his face deepening with an old regret.  “Not in Kari’s eyes.  She made a decision I couldn’t live with, and...”  He sighed.  “But now she has a kid, and something has changed but I don’t know what.  I have to see her.  Apologize for being an idiot.”

Alvin nodded seriously.  “We’ll get you to Vegas.  In time, even.”

“That’s kind a you to say, but...”

Alvin dug out his phone and pulled up a map of the bus route.  “Let’s see...  Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.  Hah!  Destiny.”

“What in tarnation are you talking about, boy?”

Alvin’s smile was more mysterious now.  “Do you trust me?”

“Not especially.  Sorry.  Occupational hazard.  I’ve run into too many of the bad ones, you know.”

“Can’t blame you.  Still...  Do you think you could trust me long enough to use a Venn Machine for a few days?”

Ken’s gaze went distant, out to the endless farmland scrolling past the bus window.  He didn’t speak again until they reached the bus terminal, and the driver called for everyone to get off.  Alvin stayed close to him as they got off the bus, and looked around once the crowd had dissipated a bit.  

“Hey, over there,” Alvin said, pointing at a blocky box beside the ticket windows.

Ken blinked in confusion.  “What’s one of those damn things doing here?”

Alvin shrugged.  “Little place like this?  More people go through the bus station than anywhere else, I’d bet.  Look, you don’t need to trust me much.  I can get a ticket to Vegas first, then make you something small enough to fit in my pack.”

Ken studied Alvin for a minute.  “Done this before, have you?”

Alvin glanced down at his pack.  “Yeah.”  He bit his lip, then opened his backpack.  A plush chipmunk was sitting on top of the contents.  “It’s okay sis.  I trust him.”

“You shouldn’t,” muttered Ken.

The plushie sat up, and grinned up at Ken.  “Hi!” it chirped.  “I’m Susie.”

“Who?” asked Ken in confusion.

“My sister.  We’re running away, and didn’t have much money.  Figured she’d be safer this way.  Doesn’t have to eat, either.  I can do the same for you.  We’ll figure out the schedule, set it up so you change back once we get to Vegas.  So you only have to trust me to go the right way, really.”

Ken still looked uncertain, so Alvin walked up to the ticket stand.  “How long to get to Vegas?”

“Bus leaves in two hours, ‘bout 26 hour run.  You can be there tomorrow afternoon.”   The clerk named a price that made Alvin wince, but he paid it.

“Guess I can go a day on my last two granola bars,” muttered Alvin as he returned to Ken.  “See?  Ticket.  If you go in the pack, you’ll be there tomorrow, with a couple days to spare.”

Ken studied the ticket carefully.  “Two hours.  Can we... wait until then?”

Alvin nodded.  “Sure.  Hour and a half, anyway.  You’ve never...”

Ken shook his head.  “I am who I am, ya know?  Been in this body over fifty years, kinda... used to it.”

“Then maybe it’s time to at least see what other options there are.  I’ll set the change for two days, you’ll be in your same old body again within forty-eight hours.  Less, if your sister can drive us down to Boulder City after we get there.  You can put up with anything for that long, right?  To get to see your daughter again?”

Ken sighed.  “Yeah.  Fine.  Let’s do it now, if it means I’ll change back earlier when we get there.”

Alvin had Ken carry his battered suitcase into the Venn Machine with him.  He told him to be very sure not to touch anything while inside, as he didn’t want his papers messed up.  A minute later, Alvin emerged from one side as a plush chipmunk scampered out of the other.

“This is very weird,” chirped Ken.  “Why is my voice so high pitched?”

“Chipmunk,” said Alvin and Susie in unison.

Ken growled, or tried to.  It came out as a cute chitter.  He tried to sulk, but Susie’s infectious cheerfulness got him smiling before long.  Alvin got Susie started singing more Chipmunks songs, and before long Ken had joined in.

They got so distracted by the singing they almost missed their bus.

Once they’d boarded, Ken and Susie hid in Alvin’s backpack, but a few of the other passengers had seen them singing at the station.  An elderly woman took the seat beside Alvin’s, and encouraged him to let the “cuties” out of his pack.

“Won’t the driver want tickets for them?” fretted Alvin.

“Nah.  Larry’s a sweetie.  I’ve been doing this run for years and years now.  Hey Larry!”

The driver waved.  “What’s up, Mathilda?”

“You don’t charge tickets for plushies, right?”

“Only if they’re big enough to need a seat.  Everyone settled?”  There as a general chorus of assent.  “Then we’re off!”

The bus smoothly pulled away.  Once they were back on the highway, Alvin let the chipmunks out of his bag, and at Mathilda’s urging soon they were singing once more.  They worked through the entire Urban Chipmunk album twice, with many of the passengers joining in on the choruses.

“Chipmunks aren’t easy to love, and harder to hold?” asked Mathilda after they’d improvised even more alterations to “Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Chipmunks”.  “That doesn’t seem right.  You two are such sweeties.  Can I hug you?”

Ken looked reluctant at first, but Susie jumped into her arms.  Alvin scooped Ken up to a chirp of protest, and deposited her beside Susie.  “She’s one of the good ones, right?”

Ken had to reluctantly agree.  And when dinnertime came around, and Mathilda got tips from the others to cover a hearty meal for Alvin at the rest stop, Ken solemnly thanked her for taking care of the boy.

The long night of the trip passed easily, and when dawn broke Ken yawned and stretched, then giggled.  Actually giggled.

“What?” asked Alvin softly.

“Always hated this part.  Wakin’ up on the bus, feeling like someone had kicked me down the stairs.  But I feel great.  Energized.  More alive than I’ve felt in years.  Thanks, kid.  Alvin.”

At Mathilda’s encouragement, they passed the morning with more singing.  Ken knew a huge range of songs, and Alvin was good at picking them up on the fly and singing accompaniment.  Susie chirped along as well, mostly just humming the tune.

When they finally parted ways at the bus stop in Vegas, Mathilda handed Alvin a business card.  “That’s my son’s number.  Works for one of the agencies here, you guys would make a fantastic variety act.  If you want to give showbiz a shot, give him a call.  I’ll be telling him about you.”

Alvin smiled warmly.  “That’d be amazing.  I haven’t figured out what to do past getting Ken here home.”

Thanks to more tips from the passengers, Alvin had enough money to take a cab to the address Ken provided.  He held both chipmunks in his arms as he knocked on the door.

A middle-aged man opened the door.  “Hello?  Oh, aren’t those the cutest things, are you selling them?  Katie would love one.”

“Uh, no, they’re...” started Alvin, unsure how to explain.

“Kari?” asked Ken, wonderingly.  “You’re a guy now?”

Kari’s eyes went wide as he stared at the chipmunk.  “That voice.  You sound like Dad.  Except he’d never...”  His eyes raised to meet Alvin’s.  “What are you playing at, boy?”

“This boy’s name is Alvin,” said Ken in what would have been a commanding voice if it wasn’t so high pitched.  “He’s the reason I could join you for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh my God!  Is it really you, Dad?  You’re so...  So...”

“Cute?” offered Susie.  “C’mon, Ken.  Hit it!”

Ken sighed, but gamely started into “Greyhound bound for Nowhere”, which Alvin and Susie sung along to with great gusto.  

Kari joined in after a bit, then reached for her plushified father.  “Can we keep you like this?”

Ken glowered at Alvin.  “He said I’d change back in another day.”

“Or less, if you take him down to Boulder City,” pointed out Alvin.

Kari pulled him inside, and shut the door on the faint chill in the air.  “Can it wait, Dad?  Katie would love you to death like this.”

Ken sighed softly.  “Yeah, sure.  This body isn’t so bad.  No aches and pains, for one.  I could stand another day.”

“Twist his rubber arm,” giggled Susie.  “Or his plush one, anyway.  Being this cute is great!  We’ve even been told we should try singing in a variety act.”

Kari chuckled at the thought.  “That’d be a blast.  There are already a bunch of acts that used venned people, but mostly for acrobatics and magic shows.  Bringing back the Chipmunks?  You’d sell out on nostalgia alone.  Though I think you’d need a third chipmunk.”

Alvin chuckled softly.  “I’m game.  As long as we have somewhere safe to stay in the deal.”

Kari looked at him more closely.  “You poor thing.  Are you okay?”

Alvin shrugged.  “I’ve run away from it.  Your father said running toward was better...  I’d like to have somewhere like that.”

Kari eyed the plush chipmunk still perched in Alvin’s arms.  “He did, did he?  So what are you running towards, Daddy?”

Ken sighed, and jumped out of Alvin’s arms then scampered over to hug Kari’s shin.  “You, baby girl.  Though not so much of either any more.  I am so, so sorry I got so mad at you for marrying Lacie.  Is she around?”

Kari shook his head.  “She’s working today, we’re on alternate shifts so we can take care of the baby.  She’ll be home for dinner.”

A wail from a distant room made Kari sigh.  “And Katie’s awake.  C’mon, want to meet your granddaughter?”

Ken’s eyes shone.  “More than anything.  But... how?”

Kari laughed resonantly as he scooped up his father, the plushie.  “I’ve been venned male for a year now.  We talked about swapping for the next one, but Lacie loves being a mother and I’m really starting to like being a guy.  So maybe we’ll just stay like this.  Does it bother you that I’m a guy?”

Ken shook his head.  “I’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite.  I’m a chipmunk and seriously considering it as a career choice.  Show me this granddaughter of mine, and I’ll forgive anything, if you’ll forgive this old coot for wanting one so bad he couldn’t stay around...”

“Oh God, Dad?  Was that really what all this was about?”

The chipmunk nodded.

“C’mon.  You’ll see.”  Kari carried Ken into another room, Alvin and Susie following a distance behind.

Ken stared down into the crib, and started crying.  “She looks just like you.  Just like you.”

“She does.  We venned me into the brother I never had.  So as far as genetics goes... well, I dunno, but she sure looks like she’s your granddaughter.”

“Ga ga!” enthused the little girl as a plushie was lowered to her.  “Ga ga!”

“That’s right.  This is your grandpa.  We’ll explain it when you get older.”

Katie pulled the plush into a tight hug, and Ken looked awed.  Katie settled then, and went back to sleep.  Kari winked at the plush in Katie’s arms.  “You’ll take good care of her, right Dad?”

The plush nodded happily.

Kari backed out of the room and gently closed the door.  Then she turned and faced the Alvin and his sister.  “Hey.  Thank you so, so much for this.  This has been the most amazing day, and it’ll get better.  Can you stay for Thanksgiving?”

“That’d be nice,” agreed Alvin.  “We, uh... don’t have anywhere to stay.”

Kari nodded.  “I can’t put you out on the street after what you’ve done for us.  We don’t have a lot of room, but you’re welcome to the couch as long as you want to stay.  Though I guess if you’re going to go the chipmunk route, you’d need less space...  I’m sure we could find a dollhouse about the right scale.”

Alvin laughed.  “That would be lovely, sir.”

“Just call me Kari.  You’re family now.”

*** *** ***

The little table strained to handle all the food, and the six people gathered around it.  Kari looked to her father.  “Dad?  Would you like to start?”

“Oh!  Uh right.  I’m thankful for my daughter-slash-son’s hospitality, and most of all for the granddaughter I thought I’d never get.  I’m especially thankful that you all have been forgiving to this old fool.”

Kari cheered, and the others followed suit after a bit.  “I’m thankful my Daddy is home at last.  And planning to stay.”

Lacie nodded.  “You’re always welcome here, Ken.  We can get a bigger place, but...”

“Nah, this is fine.  Come Monday, the New Chipmunks won’t be needing much space.”

“And you’ll help babysit Katie?  She’s already missing her favourite plushie.”

“Of course.”

Lacie smiled at him.  “Then I’m thankful someone else is here to help share the load.  I’ve seen so little of my sweetie these past five months, and I miss her.  Him.  Uh...”

Kari blew Lacie a kiss.  “Both are fine.  I’ve been wanting to go female again ever since Daddy came home.  I’m sure Katie won’t mind having two moms for a while.”

“Alvin?” asked Kari.

Alvin smiled at her, a smile no longer tugged out of shape by a scar.  “I’m thankful to have found such nice people, and a roof over my head.  The chance to sing...  I’d never have dreamed this was possible.  I’m thankful for strangers on a bus who have made my life wonderful.”

Susie cheered.  “Me too!”