Bobby ran out the door into the bright sun of the morning. The air was clear and cool, with just a hint of warmth. Spring was just around the corner. Tomorrow was Easter Sunday. Bobby looked forward to this Sunday. Of all the days of the year, this one ranked just behind Christmas and his birthday. He didn't care that much about going to church. In fact, he downright hated that thought. Ugh! Having to dress up and wear a tie! That was no fun. He would put up with it, though, because he knew that as soon as they got home, the Easter egg hunt would begin. He smiled to himself as he remembered last year's hunt and each one before that. As far back as his twelve years would let him recall, it always began the same way.

Dad would open the front door, stop and peer into the house. Then Mom would ask him what was wrong. Dad always gave the same answer, “Someone has been in our house.” “Who? Are they still there?” “No, they have gone, but I think I know who it was. The Easter Bunny!” And with that announcement, Dad would throw open the door and Bobby and his sister Lizzie would run into the house.

Up the stairs, down the stairs. In the living room, the dining room, bedrooms, kitchen. All through the house they run, whooping and yelling the whole time. Squeals of joy when they found the hidden eggs, brightly dyed and decorated. The greatest challenge, though, was trying to find the baskets. Bobby could never quite figure out how those baskets were always the last things they would find. I mean, really, now, folks. When you're looking for eggs, how could you miss a basket? Especially those great big ones, filled with pounds and pounds of candy and games and toys? When you're a twelve year old, you know you're looking for that basket. To heck with the eggs! The basket was the real treasure here!

Oh, and there was another thing about that egg hunt that puzzled Bobby. Somehow or other, he and Lizzie always ended the hunt with the same number of eggs. Every year without fail, they would each end up with six eggs in their little pails. Next to the baskets, that was a real mystery to him. Sighing, Bobby slowed down. One day he'd figure it out. Until then, though, he keep on trying to get more eggs than his sister - and find out where that darn basket hid! With those thoughts running through his mind, Bobby stepped into the street.

The police officer hated this part of his job. Of all the duties he was called on to do, telling a family that their child was involved in a car accident had to be the worst. Knocking on the front door, the officer looked around as he waited. There, in the driveway, was a tricycle and a small two-wheeler. In the front yard, left laying where they'd been dropped, was a couple of footballs. The door opened and a woman stood there, a young girl of about ten years at her side.

“Mrs. Branson?”

She stood there, puzzled as to why a police officer would be at her door. When the officer repeated her name, she nodded and said, “Yes. How may I help you, officer?”

Taking a deep breath, he said, “May I come inside? Please?”

Her first thought was to deny him entry, fearing he may be an imposter. Something in his manner, the way he held his police hat, told her he was for real - and that this was serious. She stepped back, giving him room to enter. Inside, the officer said, “Ma'am, is your husband home?” “No, but I expect him back shortly. What is this about?” “There's no easy way to say this. Your son has been in an accident. He was hit by a car a couple streets over. He's alive, though, and being taken to the hospital.”

The officer saw the shock of his statements hitting her like fists in her stomach. Her face paled, tears welling in her eyes. Numbed and disbelieving, she held her daughter tightly and kept saying over and over, “No, no, it can't be Bobby. There must be some mistake.”

When Bobby opened his eyes, he saw clear, blue skies with a few wispy, high-flying clouds. The air was warm and a sweet scent was being carried on the light breath of a breeze that played with his hair. The grass beneath him was soft and - wait a minute! Bobby sat upright, surprise and fear playing across his face. Something was not right. There shouldn't be any grass yet. There should be snow on the ground, and it should be cold, not warm. Then other things began to intrude on his conscious mind. The trees. They were rather funny looking. The flowers, too. Flowers? Now? Where was he? his mind cried. In front of him, he saw a winding road. It was white and looked like it was made of sand. He closed his eyes and shook his head. This was too much. What had happened to him? Where was he? Where were his mother and father? He began to cry, feeling lost and alone. A movement in the distance caught his eye. A strange, bouncing figure was coming down the road. It would stop every now and then, move off the road and pluck something from a tree, a bush or flower. As it came nearer, Bobby almost fainted. He knew now that he must be crazy. Crazy, lost and alone in a world that grew stranger and stranger with each passing minute. Coming towards him was the biggest, whitest, oddest rabbit he had ever seen in his life!

It was fully all of ten feet tall! It had to be! From the tips of its ears to the toes of its feet, it towered above him. In one paw it held a large basket. It was wearing a blue jacket with gold buttons. Nothing else, just a jacket. Bobby watched as the giant rabbit walked, walked? more like hopped and walked, to a small bush near the road. The rabbit bent over and pulled what appeared to be an egg, a decorated and painted egg, from it. And another. It moved to a tree that was further back and pulled something from a branch. Bobby couldn't quite make out what it was. These things went into the basket. And the rabbit came closer, apparently unaware of Bobby. Bobby looked around him, trying to see where he might hide. There was no place. Besides, it was too late now. If he moved, the giant rabbit would see him. Heck, he couldn't miss him anyway. He was close to the road.

The rabbit continued to move down the road, going off a little ways to pick items from trees, bushes, and flowers. Bobby tried to get a good look at the flowers near to him, but couldn't see anything aside from their unusual colors and petals. When the rabbit was barely twenty feet from him, it stopped and looked right at him. Bobby saw that he held what appeared to be an Easter basket. It was blue, with green grass, colored eggs, and chocolate bunnies, marshmallow chicks, and the other kinds of candy normally found in such baskets.

“Hello, Bobby,” it said. It's voice was soft, pleasant to the ear.

“Er, hello,” Bobby said hesitantly. “How did you know my name? Who are you,” he asked all in a breath.

The rabbit looked calmly at him, “My name is Peter. I know who you are because I know everyone who comes here.”

“Where am I, anyway, and how did I get here?” Bobby demanded, his voice choking slightly. The rabbit came nearer to Bobby, leaned over and brushed a soft, furry paw over his cheek.

“There is no need to cry, or to be afraid, Bobby,” he said. “I will not hurt you. As to where you are, well, this is part of a great kingdom. The kingdom of Imagination. Just over the hills there,” Peter pointed off in the distance, “is the province of Fantasy, and this,” here he pointed around them, “is the land of Fairy Tales.”

Bobby eyes grew wide. He had read, and been read, fairy tales when he was a baby, and he still enjoyed reading stories of giants, knights in shining armor and stuff like that. He was just getting into sci-fi stories, too.

“As to how you got here,” Peter continued, “I'll tell you more later. I think you should know why you are here, first. Come, walk with me a little ways, please. You can help me get things together for tomorrow. Would you like to fix a basket, too?”

Bobby became excited, then said, “But I don't have a basket.”

“Pish posh! Here's one right here,” Peter said, reaching into a bush. When he pulled out his paw, he held a pink basket. Bobby's eyes grew wide in surprise.

“Here you go. Now, pluck some of the grass here and put it inside the basket.”

Bobby did as he was told. When he put the grass inside, it changed and became like the fake grass he was so familiar with. He looked at Peter in surprise, who laughed gently. At Peter's direction, Bobby went to one of the flowers. He plucked the flowers and put them in his basket. The flowers changed to the marshmallow chicks he liked. Peter, too, had plucked some of the flowers and put them in his basket. Together the two of them wandered the road, departing from it to pull leaves, twigs, berries, buds from the bushes, trees and flowers. In turn, these things changed to chocolate eggs and rabbits, jelly beans, and other candies. Some even changed into the hard-boiled eggs, with brightly colored and exotically decorated shells. As they filled the baskets, Peter and Bobby talked.

“I know you are wondering, Bobby, why you are here. Well, you are at a crossroads in your life, my young friend. This is the only chance we'll have to talk to you. Soon, you'll be a teenager and Life will start taking you down paths strange and scary.”

Bobby stopped, “What do you mean, Peter?” He no longer found it strange that he was talking with a giant rabbit. His young mind had wrapped itself in the magic and found comfort there. He no longer thought of home or his family. He hadn't forgotten them, just wasn't thinking of them.

“You're growing up, Bobby. It won't be long before you no longer believe in fairies, ogres, magic, or even knights in armor, outside of history.” A twinkle came to Peter's eye. “You won't even believe in me, either, and will think of this time as a dream.”

“Why do you say that, Peter? I could never forget you,” Bobby cried. “Never!”

“You will, Bobby, and that's all right.” Peter said, soothingly. “It is the way things have always been, and will always be so long as...” Here Peter's voice trailed off.

“So long as what, Peter? Is there something I must do? What can I do? I don't want anything to happen to you.” Bobby felt himself close to tears at the thought that Peter might go away forever.

Peter stopped and looked Bobby in the eye, saying, “Bobby, nothing will happen to me as long as people like you believe in me. That is why you are here. This is the only chance we in the Kingdom of Imagination have to keep our world alive.

“As long as you continue to believe in me, and in all of the others, both of our worlds will live. Don't let our stories die, Bobby. You must continue to tell our tales in the years to come to your children and your children's children. Keep the magic alive and well in the world. If ever the old tales die, then the Kingdom of Imagination will die and your world will become a world without imagination, without magic. And without imagination, Bobby, Man will wither and die out, too. Our worlds are bound together and depend on each other for survival.

“Tell the old legends, the fairy tales and create new legends and new stories. It is in this land, the land of Imagination, that our worlds find Life.”

Off in the distant, they heard a bell ringing, its tones deep and sonorous. The world around him began to fade. He could still hear Peter.

“Remember us, Bobby! Keep the stories alive! Don't lose the magic of Wonder!”

Those were the last words he heard as the world went dark around him. He saw a light, as though at the far end of a tunnel. It was drawing closer, though he felt no motion. It got so bright he had to close his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw his mother, her eyes wet with tears. Beside her was his father, his face gray from an unimagined pain. When his parents saw his eyes open, they smiled in happiness. His mother clasped him, holding him tight, and began crying again.

“Where am I, Mom? Where's Lizzie?”

“You're in a hospital, son,” his father said. “Your sister is with Aunt Mary. We'll bring her to see you tomorrow. You need to rest and to get better.”

“Why am I in a hospital? What happened? You're not going to believe what happened to me!”

In a few words, they told him about the accident, and that he had been in unconscious over ten hours. The doctors were worried that he might not recover. When Bobby started to tell his family about Peter, he saw his father smile and shake his head. Bobby stopped talking.

“Tomorrow, son, we'll bring Lizzie to see you. It's Easter, and we'll bring your basket for you.”

“No, Dad. Wait until I come home. We can do like we always do. Have an egg hunt and find the baskets. Please, Dad? Please?” Bobby pleaded. His father looked at him closely. He nodded his head.

“Okay, son, we'll wait.”

It took about a week before the doctors said he was well enough to go home. On the day he was discharged, his family picked him up. He was even allowed to sit in the front seat! At the house, his father unlocked the front door. Pausing, he looked inside and said, “Someone has been in our house!”

“Who? Are they still there?” “No, they have gone, but I think I know who it was. The Easter Bunny!” And with that, Lizzie and Bobbie ran through the open door and into the house. Up and down the stairs they went, finding the carefully hidden, brightly colored eggs. As always, both he and his sister found exactly the same number of eggs. Bobby smiled. Now to find the baskets. Those elusive baskets. What happened next, Bobby never could explain. They found their baskets, as usual in rooms they had already checked. What was different this time was that Bobby recognized those baskets. There was a blue one and there was a pink one. The pink basket held more of his sister's favorite candy, the little chocolate eggs, just as he had filled it. The blue basket held more of the marshmallow chicks that he so loved, and all of the other goodies children love. Set inside the baskets as well, were large coloring books. A princess looked out of the pink basket, waiting to be brought to colorful life by his sister. And smiling at him from his basket, was Peter, dressed in his blue coat with the gold buttons, holding a basket in his left paw, his right raised in a wave.