👀 

Hello. 

Anyone out there? I know I've been gone a while. The Author has been absent as well. She said something about going back in time in order to tell the whole story. I'm not sure, to be honest. She was mumbling about rewrites and new editors and something that truly set her on edge called revisions. 

There will be more to come.

Marabella

Letter to Bessie Mae

You left us on Valentine’s Day. Ironic or apropos? You were most certainly Love on four legs. You joined our little family in 2007—or 2008, judging from the photos from back then. Michael was still at Treasure Hill and that was the last place they dumped you. A stray in the system, twice adopted, and twice abandoned again before he met you.  That fateful day when he went into the kennel to give you a little scratch behind the ear and you faced the rear of the run, too depressed to acknowledge him changed all our lives. That was it for my soft-hearted husband. He adopted you that day and brought you home. 

We named you Bessie Mae or Bessamae depending on how it rolled off the tongue. The shelter had dubbed you Skittles but that was just silly. The ridiculous moniker did spark a memory for me from an adoption event at Wild Oats. I’d met you before. Must have been fate. You were a bit of a handful at first, full of energy and desperate to please. You tried too hard and had a couple of annoying habits but Abby the blind Westie took to you immediately and so did we. 

In those early days, you loved to run. And you’d chase anything that would run with you, from you, or after you. One of my favorite memories is you tearing around the big back yard of the Birchwood house with Ava, Kyla’s King Charles Spaniel. And once we moved to Austin, you discovered the deer. 

We found some old photos of you and we both laughed and both laughs were tinged with sorrow. We miss you. You are everywhere I look in this house. I gaze into the back forty and see you there, in those early years, leaping through the tall sage grass in pursuit of a white tail deer bounding toward the tree line. You’d come back, likely wet from splashing through the creek back there, your tongue hanging out, looking so pleased with yourself but contrite for not coming back when we’d called. Just contrite enough. It was hard to stay mad at those soulful brown eyes. 

Since Abby left us, it’s just been you (and the cats). The number one dog for the last ten years. You slowed down and got thicker but then, who of us hasn’t? You never wavered in your love of everyone you met. People, especially children, other dogs, and even cats. Okay, so maybe you didn’t love cats, but you were very tolerant of them, and perhaps a bit wary. (Probably a story there somewhere.) Chaucer is still looking for you. Three days gone and that little gray tabby cat is still checking the house in your favorite spots. He misses you too. 

You never seemed to mind going blind. You just bumped your way around the room until you found what you were looking for. You struggled to get up the steps as you grew feeble but you always tried. It was clear to us that you were in decline for a while now but your passing still seemed so sudden. 

Valentine’s Day will always be bittersweet. We love you, Bess. Say hey to Abby at the Rainbow Bridge. We’ll be along one day.   

NEW YEAR, NEW DECADE!

2020 is hours away. 

Do you have any resolutions? I do not. There's too much to do.

This year Marabella's story is getting a makeover, with the help of a fine editor and re-release under Ogmah Creative Media's YA imprint, Dragon. Her story continues. I hope you come with us.

I did it! I wrote 50,097 words in 29 days. It is a wonderful feeling of accomplishment. I know that it is only a fraction of the work that's going into this book but it feels good. 

After a brief respite for the holidays, I will be back at it to finish Marabella's series. 

NaNoWriMo 2019

I will write 50,000 words this month.

This year I am organized. I have a calendar with daily word count goals. 

 Ok. I've announced it. 

I've thrown down the gauntlet. 

The challenge has been accepted. 

Journal Entry on a Weird Day

A quick stroll around the yard in the brisk October air cleared her mind… a little. Her third cup of Earl Grey cooled by the keyboard as she struggled to find the thread. The one she’d pull on to untie the knot that held back the story trapped there inside her head.

The players are all there. Each character fleshed out and real. The world they inhabit teems with life from the depths of the seas to the arid plains and each village in between. She knows them all. If you ask her about any character, their background, their appearance, or what they likely had for breakfast, she could tell you, in detail. She can describe the one white whisker of the elder moorcat or the heady scent of lavender in the laundry at Castle Drosia.

Why then, you may ask, can’t she sit down and put those thoughts together into the novel that’s in essence already written? Michael asks that annoyingly often. He’s not wrong but still has no concept of how difficult the process is for her. The fact is, she doesn’t know why the words no longer flow from her fingertips as the story dances around in her head. Is it perhaps too much? The story has become a saga with many moving parts and countless characters. Simplify, you say? She’d love to, but the story now has a life of its’ own. It bangs against the inside of her skull and boils out in no particular order.  

Ah, the writer's life.

Teacher's Aide

White County Writer's Conference 1st Place Winner  Stranger Adventures Award

     Beverly Penobscott blew her nose loudly, glancing apologetically at the other patients in the waiting room. She wheezed a sigh of relief when the nurse called her name. Nurse Karen took her vitals while questioning her about symptoms. “It’s my seasonal allergies again. It’s worse this year. I’ve had terrible headaches.”

     “You probably have a sinus infection too. You should have come in earlier.”

     “I teach sixth grade at Driscoll Middle School. I can’t take off in the middle of the week. I’m just glad you are here on Saturday.” She sneezed and blew her nose again. Beverly gazed out the window at the grounds crew mowing and raking as she waited another twenty minutes for the doctor.

     Dr. Kline confirmed the nurse’s diagnosis. “Karen was right. You have a nasty sinus infection. I’m going to give you an allergy shot and then I have something for you to take so we can get started clearing that up right away.”

     Karen reappeared with a cup of pills on a tray. “These will get you started. There’s an antibiotic, a vitamin C, and a B-12. I’ll be right back with your prescriptions.” There was a loud pop. Something crashed through the window of the exam room. “Holy crap! Sorry. We’ve had mowers throw rocks before but, I’ve never had one actually come through the glass.”

     Beverly shrugged, too stuffy and miserable to care. She scooped up the four pills that had spilled on the tray and tossed them back with the cup of water Karen provided. “One of those was kind of big.”

     “That was probably the vitamin C. You swallowed them all at once?” Karen looked surprised.

     “Yeah.” Beverly shrugged. “I can take several at a time.” She finished the water and hopped off the exam table.

     Waiting in line at the drive-through pharmacy, Beverly felt dizzy. Her phone chimed. Her best friend’s smiling face greeted her. “Hey Silvia.” She put the device on speaker, placing it in the holder on the dash, keeping her hands free to dig for more tissues.

     “You sound awful.” Sylvia stated the obvious. “I was calling to see if you wanted to come to dinner tonight but …”

     “Yeah. Thanks, Syl but I’m gonna take my drugs and sleep all weekend. I got an allergy shot and prescriptions. Allergies. Sinus infection. Nurse Karen said I’m run down, like all the teachers they see this time of year. I’m at the pharmacy right now.” Beverly sneezed several times.

     “Feel better, sweetie. Call if you need anything.”

     “Okay. Gotta go. The line is finally moving.” She moved to the window.

     Beverly dropped her purse. She kicked her shoes in the general direction of the bedroom. Plopping on the sofa, she ripped the affixed pages from the pharmacy bag. “I don’t even care what the side effects are, as long as it works.” She glanced at the bottles. “Antibiotic, one every six hours. Take with food. Vitamin C, take two twice a day. B 12, one each morning. Huh. I thought there were four.” Beverly swallowed the pills, chasing them with a bottle of water. She dropped her pants and bra on the floor. Curling into a ball on the sofa, she pulled the quilt over her head.

     Beverly awoke with a start. “What?” She sat up. “Oh no!” She stood on wobbly legs headed for the bathroom, making it just in time to puke in the toilet bowl. “Wow. They really mean it when they say to take those things with food.” She rinsed her mouth.

     Disgusting. Humans are filthy with virus and bacteria. At least I can fix this. I hope this one has enough intelligence to understand. Is this translator on? Hello? Human?

     “Great. I left the television on.” Beverly wiped her face. “I don’t remember turning it on.” She plodded to the living room to find the television off. A cold chill ran down her spine. She tip-toed to the kitchen, peeked into the bedroom, and finally stuck her head out the front door in search of the voice she’d heard. “I must be losing my mind.”

     Do not be alarmed. You are not hearing voices. I am plugged in (for want of a better term) to your cerebral cortex.

     “What the …?” Beverly spun around looking for the source of the voice. She shook her head. “What kind of drugs did they give me?” She scrambled for the living room to find the discarded pages of particulars for the pills she’d swallowed. A few steps into the room, Beverly’s legs gave out. She tumbled to the sofa, paralyzed.

     Sorry. That was me, plugging into your cerebellum. I did not mean for that to happen. Just relax while I contact all areas. The disembodied voice spoke to her.

     Beverly opened her mouth to scream. No sound escaped her lips. She gasped, unable to catch her breath. Her body twitched and her vision blurred. She descended into full-scale panic as her numbed body lurched to a sitting position, on its’ own.

     Just one moment. This has not been done before but I think it might work. And hello.

     Beverly found herself sitting on her sofa in a brightly lit room of white. There were holographic screens of flashing symbols to the left and right and a strange creature at the controls. She took a deep breath and screamed long and loud with all the hysteria she felt. The creature before her quivered. It touched some symbols and her voice was silenced. She experienced the sensation of screaming, but there was no sound.

     That was unexpected and oddly disconcerting for me. The voice seemed to come from the creature though Beverly didn’t see a mouth.   

     “For you?” Beverly’s voice returned. “You muted me like a television!” She glanced at her surroundings. “And where are we? How did I get here? How did my couch get here?”

     Your body is not here. This is a mental construct. You are safe on your couch. I am plugged into your brain. This is a representation of my environment.

     “You’re plugged into my brain! How? I feel like I’m losing my mind. I feel…I feel.” She took a deep breath. “I feel good. I can breathe. My headache is gone too.” She breathed deeply thorough her nose. “Or is this in my head? I’m confused. Either I’m so sick that I’m delirious or ... yeah, I must be having a fever dream.”

     You are not dreaming. Well, you are, in so much as this conversation is happening in your consciousness and not in the physical plane, but you are not hallucinating.

     Beverly looked at the creature in front of her. It was pale blue; a large round mass with hundreds of tentacle-like fingers protruding in every direction. It moved in a rolling motion using the tentacles alternately as hands, feet, and fingers. “I don’t think I could dream this up. If I’m not having a drug induced nightmare, then what?” She flopped back on the familiar piece of furniture.

     I have studied your civilization for hundreds of your years. I find humans and human interactions fascinating. When compressed, my observation pod is quite small. The lawn mower device propelled me through the glass portion of the building. My pod crashed on the tray in front of you and you ingested me along with your primitive medications. The compression makes repairs more difficult. I could resume my normal size but you would explode. Once the regulator is fixed I can exit safely. Dozens of tentacles danced across the holographic keyboard. You should begin to feel drowsy.

     Beverly yawned. “Great. I’ve got Marvin the Martian in my head. I think I’ll just sleep off this…whatever this is.” She fell back on the cushions, pulling the quilt over her.

     I am not from Mars. I am not an animated character, but I do understand the pop culture reference. You nap while I make repairs. When you awake, I will be gone. Probably.

     “Uh huh. Carpe diem, Marvin.” Beverly mumbled from under the quilt.

     “Bev? Are you okay?” Silvia tapped Beverly’s shoulder.

     “What?” Beverly stretched in her chair. “Did I fall asleep at my desk? Silvia? How did I get here? That was a weird dream.”

     “Wow.” Silvia pulled up a chair. “I know the last days of school are a lot but you’ve been all over the place this week, with the new hair and fashion choices. I’d say your new allergy meds need to be changed if they didn’t work so well.”

     “New hair?” Beverly glanced to the window for a peek at her reflection. Her brunette pony tail had been replaced with messy waves of hot pink held back with an enormous black bow. She snatched the offending hair decoration from her head.

     Silvia touched her hand. “Are you okay? I’m really worried about you. The final assembly has already started. Come on. We’re late.”

     “Final assembly?” Beverly stood, wobbling on her high heels. “Silvia! Wait. Why am I wearing heels?”

     “I’ve asked you that every day for a week.”

     “And?” Beverly stared with wide-eyed expectancy.

     Silvia shot her a side-eye. “And every time you said the same thing.”

     “Humor me. What was my answer?”

     Silvia put her hand on her hip and stuck her nose in the air, apparently mocking Beverly’s demeanor. “While impractical and ultimately damaging to this body, the lift and height of these shoes presents this area (she slid her hand over her derriere) at a most pleasing angle.”

     “That does not sound like me.”  Beverly leaned hard on her desk. She took a deep breath through her nose. “Allergies gone. Could Marvin be real?”

     “Who’s Marvin? Forget that. We have to get going. The assembly started a few minutes ago.”

      “The final assembly isn’t until the last day of school, next Friday.” Beverly’s eyes grew wide. “Year-end progress reports. Final grades. What did I…?” She took a deep breath and did her best to swallow the panic squeezing her chest.

     Silvia chuckled. “Now you’re teasing. You finished your year-end paperwork a day early. And I have to admit that your efficiency suggestions helped me get done in record time.”

     “Today is the last day of school? I missed the whole week!”

     “I feel that way every year. The last week is so hectic. We just have to get through one more assembly.” Silvia pulled Beverly after her. “Now come on.”         

     “Sil, you said I’ve been all over the place this week. What did you mean?” Beverly teetered after Silvia on four inch heels.

     “I’ve been preoccupied with year-end stuff, too. When I mentioned how frumpy we all looked in our tired teacher garb, you did this.” She gestured to Beverly’s outfit. “I’m pretty sure Mrs. Watkins is wearing her pajamas today, and I haven’t shaved my legs in two weeks. But you show up in a pencil skirt and hot pink platform heels. And, I have no idea where you got the courage for that dye job, but your students love it.”

     Approaching the gym, they could hear the roar of the assembled students, applauding recipients of the academic awards. A young girl with tragically rainbow colored hair hooked her arm with Beverly. “Thanks again for what you said in class. When you reminded everyone how lucky we are to have choices, and fashion is a form of self-expression, I felt like you were talking for me. Thanks Ms. P.” Beverly smiled at the girl with no recollection of the comment.

     Beverly stood to the side of the stage with Silvia as the principal took the podium. “Now for our Teacher of the Year Award. We have such a great staff here at Driscoll. All of our teachers are exceptional, but in the last week one went above and beyond. This person is not only a first class educator, but also found time during the most chaotic week of the year to assist other teachers with their year-end reports and write a compelling grant proposal for the new science department. She also helped the robotics club complete their project.”

     Silvia elbowed Beverly. “What do you know about robotics?”

     “Who, me? Nothing.” Beverly whispered. “Why?”

     “Because he’s talking about you.” Silvia had to raise her voice as the assembly broke into applause.

     “What?” Beverly was jostled by a crowd of students urging her toward the podium.

     “Beverly Penobscott!” The principal called her name loudly.

     Beverly straightened her blazer and stumbled to the podium. She looked out over the hundreds of smiling faces, shouting in unison. “Ms. P.! Ms. P.! Ms. P.!”

     The principal pushed her towards the microphone as he said, “Ms. Penobscott has prepared a few words.”

     The crowd chanted, “Ms. P! Ms. P.!”

     Beverly’s mouth went dry. She fidgeted with the microphone and nervously stuck her hands in her blazer pockets. From her left pocket she pulled a folded paper. She scanned the document which appeared to be in her own handwriting while the crowd was shushed. There was a long, awkward pause before she leaned toward the mic. “Sorry. I had to look over my notes. I’m surprised. Well, not surprised because I’ve prepared notes. Obviously I knew this was coming. It’s been a busy week. I think I’ll just read it.”

     She smoothed the paper on the podium and read the words she did not write. “Thank you for this great honor. I can think of no undertaking nobler than educating and training the youth. Humanity has come so far in the last one hundred years. These are the minds that will shape the next one hundred years. In the short time I have been here, I have found the middle school to be a microcosm for this part of the Earth. I have seen humans at their best and worst. I have witnessed violence, prejudice, and hate. All too often fear and anger walk hand in hand. But I have also seen kindness and sacrifice. The bonds of friendship are strong. There is more joy here than avarice, more hope than despair. The potential is limitless.”

     The student body burst into applause, hooting and shouting. After a moment, they quieted. She continued. “Recently, a friend said to me, carpe diem. That is Latin for ‘seize the day’. It is a beautiful and powerful sentiment. It means take chances. Push your minds to the limit and beyond. Do not be confined by old ideas. Create. When society learns to celebrate the differences and revel in the multitude of choices afforded them, humanity will take a monumental leap forward. These bright, beautiful, creative minds are poised to usher in the next age of humankind.”

     The gymnasium erupted with cheers and applause. Beverly smiled. Caught up in the revelry, she took a bow. Bending low, she spied a small tattoo just above her left ankle. “That’s new.” Marvin the Martian blinked from under his Roman helmet. Block letters below his sneakered feet read CARPE DIUM.          

    

Midnight in the Garden of Yellow Fever

White County Writer's Conference 2nd Place Winner  Gimme the Creeps Contest

     “Okay, we’ve had the best crawfish and jambalaya in New Orleans. What now, Jed?” Kith walked arm in arm with her cousin. His friends Deacon and Marjorie accompanied them down Basin Street.

     Marjorie rolled her eyes. “Since you’re the tourist, what would you like to do? It’s almost midnight. We could make our way over to the House of Blues.”

     Deacon narrowed his eyes. “She can go clubbin’ any time. St. Louis Cemetery number 1 is not too far from here. If you like tourist-y stuff, it’s the oldest graveyard in New Orleans. It dates back to the 1700’s.”

     Kith squealed. “Oh, let’s do that! Can we Jed?”

     “Sure. It’s fine. Hey, Deacon. How is it that you know so much about the old cemetery?”

     “I spent a summer doing tours. You’ve seen those open buses that look like street cars. The guy up front pointing out stuff; that was me. I had to memorize a bunch of historical facts and such. It’s really interesting. New Orleans is an old city with a lot of history.”

     Despite the late hour, the Quarter was bustling with revelers. The foursome strolled leisurely down the sidewalk. Deacon continued with his history lesson. “St. Louis #1 is just outside the Quarter. It filled up in the early 1800’s because of a yellow fever outbreak. That was some nasty stuff. Fever, jaundice, black vomit, and then you die. Probably. A lot of people did. Anyway, you know it’s closed to tours now. We’ll be on our own.”

     “All the better.” Kith laughed. “You can be our guide.”

     “I didn’t do cemetery tours but I do know we need to be careful. This place is old and some of it is crumbling. Watch your step and do not get separated.”

     “Why didn’t you do cemetery tours?”

     “Well, Kith, they make you wear period costumes for the walking tours and honestly, that shit’s hot. You try wearing a three piece wool suit in the Louisiana summer. To be historically accurate, someone of my particular complexion would be a slave or laborer. No thanks”

     “What about the ladies?” Marjorie hooked her arm with Deacon’s. “The girls have to wear those long dresses and petticoats.”

      “I’ve seen people dressed like that.” Kith skipped ahead. She pulled to a halt at the front gate, pointing to the weathered sign on the wall. “Visitors are welcome but enter these premises at their own risk.” Kith rolled her eyes. “That’s not ominous at all. I think it’s closed.”

     “I coulda done told you dat.” Jed’s accent dripped with Cajun sass. “There’s another gate around yonder.”

     Kith sprang in the direction he indicated. “I’ve got it.” She took off at a pace.

     “It’s probably locked too. We gonna have to hop the wall.” Deacon called after her.

     “Come on then.” Kith rounded the corner. The side street was dimly lit. “This way.” Kith ran toward a low point in the wall where construction outside the cemetery had built up the pavement. She pulled herself up and over the six foot wall expecting a six foot drop on the other side. “Shit!” Kith uttered one word as she dropped eight feet before crashing through the roof of a dilapidated mausoleum.

     Jed rounded the corner, peering into the gloom. “You hear dat?” He called to Deacon and Marjorie. “Come on, now. She done found a place to hop dat wall.” He paused a moment for Marjorie and Deacon to catch up. “Dat girl is fast. Y’all hurry up.” He sprinted ahead. “Kith! Where you at?”

     Kith rose gingerly from the pile of rubble, shaking dust and gravel from her hair and clothes. “Oh crap. I don’t even want to know what this is.” She picked her way out of the mausoleum. Don’t want to do any more damage than I already have. Kith emerged in the aisle, illuminated only by the ambient light as there were no street lamps nearby. She dusted herself thoroughly. “Jed? Marjorie?” She called timidly.

     Down the lane she saw a figure walking toward her. “Who’s causin’ such a ruckus?” The woman chastised Kith. “You should not be here. It’s not safe.”

     Kith launched into an apology. “I know. I’m so sorry.” She noted the woman’s long dress and apron. ”I didn’t mean to interrupt your tour.”  

     The woman squinted at her as she approached. “My tour?”

     Kith stretched her aching back. “I’m really sorry. I think I hit harder than I thought.” She took a painful step and almost lost her balance. The woman stepped back.

     “Back pain? Headache?” She looked concerned.

     “Well sure. It’s like ten feet and then right through the roof. So, yeah, my head hurts too. Do you think I have a concussion?” Kith took a deep breath. A wave of fatigue washed over her. “I really don’t feel well.”

     The woman stepped closer. “Follow me.” She turned down the lane, disappearing in the darkness.

     “Can you hold up? I need to call my cousin.” Kith fished in her pockets for her phone. “Of course. It’s dead.” She made a face at the blank screen and shoved it back into her pocket.

     The woman returned. “Please. This way. Come with me.” She beckoned Kith to follow her.

     “Okay. Just show me the way out of here.” Kith trailed after the lady in period costume. As the two wove around the statues of Saints and angels Kith felt light-headed. She stumbled and lost sight of the woman.  She paused beneath a stone chair perched high on the façade of a large mausoleum. “I wish that chair was down here. “Hello? Lady?” Kith called after the guide. “I’m just so tired.” She leaned on a grave. “No disrespect, but I need to rest here for a moment.”  She closed her eyes for an instant.

      A chill breeze gave Kith a start. She opened her eyes to see a procession of somber faces file past. I must have drifted off. What’s going on? There were men, women and children of different ages. They each wore or carried fragrant blossoms in bouquets or wreaths around their heads. No one spoke or seemed to notice Kith. She observed as a young woman plodded past with a baby in her arms. Suddenly, a quiver ran up Kith’s spine. The silence of the ashen faced parade was unnatural. There were no coughs or whispers. Even the infant remained mute. The gravel in the lane did not crunch as they trudged past.

     At the end of the procession the lady from earlier brought up the rear carrying an old fashioned oil lantern. She wore a wreath of gardenias around her tightly braided hair. She stopped in front of Kith. Kith’s stomach lurched with nausea from the sickly sweet scent of the flowers. Uh oh. My crawfish may be coming back up.

     “You should go.” The woman’s voice was faint.

     Kith leaned in to catch what she said. She turned toward the receding crowd. “Should I follow you guys?”

     “No.” The woman whispered. “You aren’t supposed to be here. You should go before the fever takes you too.” She pointed down the lane to Kith’s left. Without another word she turned to follow the silent procession, already swallowed by the darkness.

     “Before what takes me?” Kith called after the woman, but she was gone. She turned down the lane in the direction the woman had indicated. She stumbled more than once in the darkness with only the monuments and graves to guide her way. Her stomach cramped and her head ached. I may really have a concussion. Kith doubled over and vomited in a pile of rubble. Jambalaya is not the same coming up. She heaved again, empting her belly in a splat of greasy dark ooze on the bricks. She spat and wiped sweat from her forehead. Up ahead she saw twinkling lights coming toward her. They got brighter and Kith swooned, almost tumbling into a pile of debris.

     Jed’s strong arms caught her. “Hey Cuz. Are you okay?” He steadied her, holding his phone up to shine the flashlight on her face. “You are sweatin’, girl. In this light, your eyes look yellow. Come on.” He put his arm around her waist to help her down the lane. “Deacon is right up here.” He spoke soothingly. “I found her.” Jed called to Deacon.

     Kith’s body ached and her empty stomach continued to churn. Deacon and Jed hoisted her up to the top of the wall. Marjorie helped her down the other side. Kith sat down hard on the sidewalk. The boys easily hopped the six foot section.

     Once outside the wall, Kith instantly began to feel better. Her stomach settled. Her headache began to fade. She pulled back her damp red curls, feeling the kiss of the breeze on her sweaty neck. She sighed deeply. “I think I’ve had enough adventure for one night. I’m ready to go home.”

      

        

Adina the Snarky Fairy and the Curious Box

Arkansas Writer's Conference Honorable Mention    

 

      Adina flitted among the flowers as quickly as her little fairy wings would carry her. Menacing dark clouds rumbled overhead. “I hope I can make it to that cave before the rain starts. I hate getting wet.” She waved her hand to initiate a magical boost to speed her to the sanctuary. The wind picked up and the first fat drops fell just as she reached the opening. Adina snapped her fingers and fairy lights danced around the cave. She backed deeper in to avoid the rain blowing through the entrance.

     “Hello.” A soft voice beckoned.

     Adina snapped around to come face to face with a strange little creature with long ears and twitching whiskers. It was a dirty brown color and moved silently a few steps back. “Are you a dust bunny?” Adina’s eyes widened in recognition of the rare magical creature. “I’ve never met one of your kind before. What are you doing here? How did you even get here?”

     The bunny moved forward again. “Hello. My name is Rupert. And yes, I am a dust bunny. I’m not really sure how I got here. I was taking some sun in the window and it was quite windy. I

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was blown out into the street and then into a basement through a grate. There was a man sitting at a desk…and then I was here.”

     “I’m Adina.” She reached out to touch the creature. “Sorry.” Adina drew her hand back, embarrassed. “It’s just that I’ve heard of dust bunnies, but just in stories.” She brushed her hands together, then wiped them discreetly on her dress. “What are you?”  

     “Well Adina, dust bunnies are magical creatures from the Common World. There was a time when we flourished there. We lived under the beds of humans to keep the monsters away. Our numbers dwindled and we began to disappear when people began cleaning under their beds regularly. That, of course, allowed monsters into their world.”

     “Stupid humans.” The fairy rolled her eyes.

     “I was fortunate that the humans in my house stored things under the bed. I had a safe place behind a box marked ‘craft supplies’ and a box marked ‘fat clothes’. They never vacuumed that far back.”

     A violent crack of lightening followed immediately by a boom of thunder caused them both to jump and move instinctively farther into the cave. Adina noticed a passageway towards the back. “Have you been back there? I wonder how far it goes.”

     “I came from back there but it’s too dark to see anything. I felt my way through the dark until I saw the light from the opening. But I was afraid to go outside. I knew it was going to rain and as you might imagine, water and dust bunnies are not a good combination.”

    

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     Adina flicked a finger and the fairy lights swirled and floated through the passageway, illuminating a path. “I don’t like getting wet either. The storm isn’t letting up any time soon.  Let’s see what’s back here.” Rupert hopped soundlessly by her side. 

     Just a short distance down, the passage opened to another cave. Adina’s lights swirled around the ceiling of the smaller room. In the center sat a strange device, a curious metal box with five toggle switches and a big red button in the center. “Did you see this when you were back here?”

     “As I said, it was completely dark. I can’t make light. I think this is where I was earlier but I don’t recognize that machine.” Rupert sniffed suspiciously at the box.

     Adina flipped a couple of the switches. Nothing happened. “What do you think it does?”

     Rupert eyed her nervously. “I don’t know, but maybe don’t go flipping switches on a machine you know nothing about.”

     “I don’t think it does anything.” Adina flipped another toggle and pushed the red button.

     Suddenly, they were standing behind a snowbank. The air was biting cold. They heard loud pops followed by explosions. Adina blinked at the brightness of the sun gleaming on the snow. She fluttered up to the top of the snowbank to see a mighty battle. There were armored vehicles and huge mechanical beasts lumbering across a frozen plain. Fantastic contraptions flew through the air shooting fire. When one crashed nearby, the impact sent a wave of snow in their direction. Adina dropped behind the snowbank.

     Rupert hopped behind Adina just in time. A splash of wet slushy snow smacked her in the face, running down her front and landing with a sploosh, right on top of her shoes. She turned to

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glare at the mostly dry dust bunny. Rupert took one timid step back to avoid the slush dripping off her pointed nose. Adina pushed her sodden hair behind a pointed ear. “I think we should leave now.” The bunny just blinked. “Push the button again!” She yelled.

     Rupert scurried to the machine, dramatically slamming a paw on the red button. He and Adina both braced in anticipation of returning to the cave. Nothing happened. Rupert’s eyes widened. He pushed again and again to no avail. “Nothing’s happening. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but the sounds of the battle are getting closer.”

     Adina winced as another explosion shook the ground. “You must not be doing it right.” She fumed. “I’m wet and cold and I want out of here! I hate getting wet!” Adina flipped two of the toggles before trying the red button again.

       A hot dry wind blew sand in her face. Adina squeezed water out of her dress, turning her back to the wind. Looking around she realized that there was nothing but sand in every direction.

     “Help!” Rupert cried out. He gripped the machine as the desert wind threatened to tear him apart or carry him away. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

     “I’m coming.” The wind battered Adina’s wings, rendering them useless. She ran toward the machine.

     Rupert struggled to maintain his hold. The wind buffeted him. His little paws slipped, and scrambling for a grip, he flipped a toggle switch just as the wind snatched him away. Adina missed Rupert’s outstretched paw but hit the red button on the machine.

    

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     Her bottom bounced off the spongy ground. Rupert landed in a poof of dust nearby. Adina looked up to see colorful birds flitting from branch to branch in tall pink trees. “That’s new.” She blinked. “Or maybe I hit my head.”

     “Nope. They’re pink. The grass is pink and the sky is soft orange, like a cantaloupe.” Rupert stood on his hind legs, swiveling his head back and forth. “So many colors!” He hopped excitedly in a circle. “Trees with pink leaves and trees with leaves of aquamarine! Some of the trunks are bright green and some a deep purple. I’ve never imagined flowers with bright blue stems and petals of lavender.” The grubby brown bunny sighed deeply. “I’m a reflection of my environment. I spend most of my time in the dimly lit dinginess under the bed. This must be heaven!” He bounced on his hind legs kicking into the air, landing with a thump. He hopped once and bounded away, scampering around the trees and sniffing the flowers.

     “Crazy rabbit.” Adina scowled. She sat still but the ground moved beneath her. “This place is weird. But you are right. It’s colorful. I know a few fairies who’d love it.” She rocked to and fro with the rolling ground. “It feels like I’m on a boat…made of carpet, with freaky pink grass on it.” Adina scanned the area. “Hey Rupert. Are you listening?”

     The dust bunny popped out of a pink bush with blue and purple flowers. “I heard you. I noticed. The ground is bouncy.” He hopped toward the fairy. “Why are you smiling? You think this place is weird.”

     “It got a little better. I think it’s just weird enough.” Adina’s smile broadened. “Dust bunnies are a reflection of their environment, huh?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

    

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     “Why are you looking at me like that?” Rupert glanced down at his feet. They were pink. He looked over his shoulder and saw bits of color from the flowers he’d run through. His cotton tail was bright blue. Pulling down a long ear he saw smudges of purple and green. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed, rolling in the pink grass. Adina couldn’t help but giggle at the colorful bunny.

     While he frolicked, Adina inspected the machine. “This contraption works a bit like a portal; except we don’t walk through. It sends us instantaneously. It seems that the toggles determine location and as we have experienced, the red button sends us there.”

     She found walking on the spongey landscape difficult and decided to fly as her friend hopped from flower to flower. The panorama below her was a spectacle of color. “You have to see this,” she called to Rupert. Adina fluttered down to her new friend. He appeared to be roughly half her size. “I think I can carry you.” When she took him in her arms she was amazed at how little he weighed. “You’re light as a feather.”

     “Dust bunnies don’t typically weigh much.” Rupert gripped around her neck. She flew high into the trees. “It’s beautiful, Adina. Thank you.”

     Adina smiled. “It is amazing. I would love to see more of this place.”

     “What are those?” Rupert pointed to large bubble-like fruit hanging in some of the trees.

     “You stay here and I’ll see if I can pick one.” Adina deposited him on a high branch. She flitted to the bubble-tree. She reached for one but her wing tip made contact with a large bubble above her. There was a gentle pop and Adina was drenched with water. The volume of fluid

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drove her downward. She twitched water from her wings and caught enough air to flutter drunkenly to the not-so-solid ground. Once again her dress was sodden and her hair soaked. “I’ve seen enough of this place,” Adina declared. “I’m wet! Again! It’s time to go home.”

     “Oh can’t we stay a little longer?” Rupert pleaded, bouncing on a branch high above her. He lost his footing as he hopped along the limb and before Adina could react, came crashing to the ground in a puff of colorful dust.

     Adina fluttered to her flattened friend. “Rupert!”

     “Ouch.” Rupert shook himself back to his regular shape. “I’m okay.”

     “What? That fall should have broken every bone in your body. How are you okay? Adina shook her head.

     Rupert smiled. “Thanks for your concern but dust bunnies don’t have bones. We are held together by magic. I’m literally a ball of magic…and dust and stuff.”

     Adina flipped a toggle on the curious box. Rupert threw up a paw to stop her but she’d already pushed the red button.

     Rupert fell across Adina’s lap. She sat on the green grass in the shade of an oak tree. “This is the common world,” Rupert’s nose twitched. “I guess I’m home.” He sighed. Adina fluttered her wings but he made no effort to move from her lap.

     “What is this place?” She asked, noting the activity in the area.

     “This is a park. Human children come here to play.” Rupert nodded to the rampaging youngsters on the playground. While they watched, a little girl approached.

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     “Mama. Somebody left a fairy doll.” The child squealed. “And the fairy’s got a bunny.” The girl’s keeper waved from a bench nearby. “Your wings are pretty.” She reached for Adina.

     “Thank you, but please keep your hands to yourself.” Adina admonished the child.

     “It talks. It talks.” The girl bellowed. She grabbed the fairy and began squeezing her. “Again, again. Say something else.” She pinched Adina’s foot and poked at her belly.

     “She thinks you’re a toy.” Rupert whispered.

     “Unhand me, brute!” Adina flicked her hand and a few tiny sparks erupted. The surprised child loosened her grip so that Adina could wrench free and flutter up into the safety of the tree. Unfortunately, Rupert remained firmly in her grasp.

     “Mama, mama. She flew up in the tree.” The little girl yelled to the adult.

     “Carol, if you’ve thrown another toy into a tree, I’m not going to the trouble of getting a ladder and fishing it out for you.” The woman yelled back, exasperated.

     “I didn’t. She flew up there herself.” The child dropped Rupert unceremoniously on the grass. She began jumping up and down. “Get it! I want it!”

     The adult human saw that the small one was winding up for a full scale meltdown. “It’s time for us to go.” She began gathering their belongings.

     “I want that doll. She talks.” The tears began, followed by shrieking sobs. “I want it!”

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     While the little angel screamed and pulled her own hair, Adina dropped down to where Rupert lay crumpled on the grass next to the machine. “Now if I put these switches back the way they were the very first time…” She flipped the toggles into place.

     Adina paused. “Rupert, you do want to come with me, right?”

     The bunny brightened. “Oh, yes please!”

     The red faced girl turned just in time to see the fairy stick out her tongue and push the red button.

     Adina gestured in the darkness and fairy lights twinkled above them, illuminating the small cave. Rupert followed her up the path to the opening. Bright sunlight poured through the entrance.   “The storm is over. I can fly you to the village.” Adina and Rupert stepped into the sunlight.

     “I think that apparatus is better left alone.” The fairy raised her hands with a flourish. Rocks above the cave tumbled over the entrance. “That should keep out any prying eyes.” She dusted off her hands. “Have you given any thought to where you’d like to live?” Adina questioned the bunny as they fluttered over the meadow. “If you really want to live under the bed, I know a human and I’m certain he never cleans.”