Category Archives: Sunday Scribbling

Split Ends in Space

Sunday Scribblings: Mentor

After a three hour nap I am feeling a bit more human.  Either allergies or the East Texas crud has moved in and knocked me down.  Not my best but it has the scene elements that we were instructed to include: Goal, Conflict, Disaster, Emotion, Thought, Decision, and Action.

sorry I AM foggy – the scene elements were referring to a class I’m taking, not our Sunday Scribblings prompt 🙂

Sheila wanted a few days Earthside.   She needed a little retail therapy.   Jumping through wormholes was hell on split ends so a hair appointment was in order too.   Her boss and mentor Jonesy had other plans.  He griped about too many contracts, not enough results so a few warps later and she was hiding her transport in a dank cave next to the dunes of planet 287.  Dry and hot and no redeeming features except for the orange stones that littered the sands.  She had nearly filled her cargo hold with stones  and had gone back to the sand for one more load.  That was the last thing she remembered.

Now it was barely dawn and she was hanging upside down on the wrong side of a hostile planet.  If she had made it out the door three minutes sooner, Jonesy wouldn’t have had the chance to talk her into this crazy assignment and she would be sitting in a stylist chair right now getting highlights instead of hanging here waiting to become a snack.  This was not going to help her split ends. Sheila twisted and swung and would have yelled if she thought it would have helped.

She had three options as far as she could tell.  She could wait for the Sand Jammer to come back and try to fight her way out when he took her down for meal time. She could try to work a hand loose and get her communicator out and hope Jonesy was listening to the com unit,  or she could get herself down from here and find her way out to the dunes where her transport was hidden.

She figured she had the best chance with option three so she started to squeeze first one hand and then the other loose from the ties.  Lucky Sand Jammers weren’t very bright.   She got one hand loose and used it to hold on while she worked the other one out.  The legs were easy once the hands were loose.  The com unit was still in her pocket and she started easing around the corner as she pressed the button, hoping Jonesy wouldn’t shout.

“Jonesy, Sand Jammers!  I could use some help!” She whispered into the com, hoping he could hear.

“Do you need transport?”

“I might. Can you get a fix on my com?  I’m going to try to get back to my transport and cargo.”

“On it, Sheila.  Be careful.  Jammers are dumb as mud but mean.  You probably smell like steak and eggs to em!”

Sheila stared at the com thinking about how she would like to split Jonesy’s ends if she made it back in one piece.  She glanced around her looking for a possible weapon and saw her boots, hat, and collection bag over by the wall where the Jammers had left them.  She grabbed them up and found her stunner in the pocket of the bag.  Good timing too.  She smelled him before she saw him, pressed herself up against the wall.  He lumbered through the arch and the moment he saw her, she hit him with the stunner and down he went.  She had to climb over him to get out and the stench made her want to gag. Once over she ran and kept going.  It wasn’t completely dark and she followed the light that got brighter the closer she got to the entrance.

“Jonesy, I’m out.  Send me coordinates on my transport.”

Her screen started blinking and she threw her bag over her shoulder and ran.

Wolf Moon Journey

Sunday Scribbling #208 prompt: alchemy  and Weekend Writers Retreat

The clearing was bright with moonlight, dew glistened on a spiderweb.  The evening was chilly but sweat ran down her face and pooled at the base of her throat. There was no sound but her breathing as she carried the wolf, sticking close to the tree line in case she was seen.

It was slow going, carrying his weight, even with all the strength of the wolf within her.  She knew where she was going.  She never wanted to return there, but he was hurt.  His own wolf strength might not be enough to heal him.

She plodded on.  He groaned and she rubbed her cheek against his fur.  “Shhh, love.  Trust me and rest. ”

He wouldn’t change now.  He was too weak and he wouldn’t have a chance in his human form.  She walked on through the night, losing all track of time, putting one foot in front of the other.  When it was nearly dawn and she didn’t think she could go much further, she saw smoke.

“Almost there, hang on.”  She staggered to the door and kicked it with her boot.  She closed her eyes for a moment, legs and arms shaking.  It all came rushing back.

The porch looked exactly the same as when she had last seen it.  The bench where the alchemist sat in the sun with the wooden box and garden tools by the door were exactly as she remembered.  She should.  He once saved her and this became her home.  She heard his footsteps approaching  the door and for a moment, had to fight the urge to run away.  The wolf in her arms held her in place.

He looked the same, only his hair had grown snow white. “Jae! Come in!”

The words came with more difficulty than the exhaustion would have caused her. “I need your help.”

More Wolf Moon Tales

Night Wings – Emelia

Sunday Scribblings #207 Prompt: Demands
“Did you see what she was wearing?  I can’t believe she thought that sack looked anything resembling good!

“I know.  That’s what happens when you get your fashion advice from your mother!” Emelia was bored with this whole conversation.  She was bored with her friends, bored with school, and bored with Nick. Tired of there never being enough money.

“Emelia!  Did you hear what I just said?  Where is your head, girl?”

Damn, Rayanne was talking to her again and she had drifted off.  If she wasn’t careful, she would be the next subject of conversation in the cafeteria and it would not be flattering.  “What?  I was thinking about something Nick said.” That should keep Rayanne off her back.  She had more of thing for Nick than a best friend should have for your boyfriend.

“I asked you if you are going to Shannon’s party?”

Emelia tossed her blond hair. “I guess.  It’s going to be the same old crap.  Nick will drink too much beer, the nerd Mekanek squad will come, Shannon’s house will get trashed and someone will break up with  someone. Melodrama will ensue.”

“Emelia what is up your butt lately?  You used to be fun.”

“Whatever.  Do you want to go to The Human Bean for lattes after class?”

“Yeah, if you promise to get over yourself before then.”

Emelia nodded. “I’ll be in a better mood after I get chem out of the way.  See you out front.”

Emelia walked in the classroom and went to her customary seat that no one would dream of sitting in because after all, Emelia sat there.  After a completely mind numbing hour of note taking on something she obviously would never use, the bell finally rang and she put her book and notebook in her designer backpack and sighed.

Rayanne was waiting out front with all their friends.  Emelia just wanted coffee.  Now she would have to deal with everyone.  They were milling around, making sure they were seen.  Hair perfect, jeans just tight enough.  What a bunch of losers.

“Can we go already?”

Rayanne pushed open the door at The Human Bean and stepped inside, smiling over her shoulder at Emelia.  At the counter, Emelia ordered a soy caramel latte with no whipped cream, her usual. “Don’t forget, I said no whipped cream.”  She paid with the little bit of allowance she had, and waited.  The girl behind the counter was new, but looked familiar.  She waited some more, tapping her foot.

Rayanne already had her macchiato and was sitting at the table giggling at something one of Nick’s friends said.  Emelia counted  – Rayanne had managed to touch the guy three times in five minutes.  Way to not be obvious, Rayanne. The foot tapping was getting faster and a little more emphatic.

“Excuse me!  Are you having to go all the way to the coffee farm?  It’s just a latte, what’s the problem?” Emelia stood with her hands on her hips now.

“I…I’m sorry, it’s my first day and we are kind of busy.  Here’s your latte.  You’re Emelia, aren’t you?”

“Finally.  Yes, and you are?”

“I’m Sandy. I sit behind you in History?”

“Um yes, whatever.  Thanks.” Emelia turned and started to the table.  She took a sip and whirled around, stomping back to the counter.  “Excuse me! What part of no whipped cream do you not understand?  You are slow, the least you could do is get it right!”

Sandy was cleaning a carafe and as she turned toward Emelia, she dropped it and tried to catch it as it fell.  It hit the edge of the sink and instead of grabbing the carafe, she grabbed a piece of glass that broke loose.  It  lodged deep in her palm and she turned pale.

“Could you be any more clumsy?” Emelia sounded irritated and reached for the injured hand. When she touched it, the glass fell to the floor and the hole it left, closed up. Sandy stared at her for a moment and then snatched her hand back, not saying anything.

“Lucky you didn’t cut yourself.”  Emelia stared back at her, eyes wide.

“Yeah, lucky.  You want another latte?” Sandy wasn’t making eye contact.

“No.  No thanks.  This will be fine.”  Emelia turned and nearly bumped into Rayanne.  She jumped and nearly dropped her coffee.

“Rayanne!  Could you not sneak up on me, please?”

“Chill, Em.  I just wanted some biscotti.  Get a grip, why don’t you?”

Emelia shivered and walked back toward the table.  Instead of sitting down, she bypassed her friends and kept going out the door.

Rayanne turned around with her biscotti just in time to see the door close and Emelia walk away from the coffee shop.  “What the heck is wrong with that girl, anyway?”  She went back to the table just in time to laugh at a joke Nick’s friend was telling.  Jordan wasn’t Nick but he wasn’t totally gross and he was the son of a Mekanek.  She glanced at the window, thinking about Emelia again.  It  looked like that idiot behind the counter had cut herself.  Maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks.  She looked back at the counter and saw the girl staring at the door with the weirdest look in her eyes.  She looked afraid.

Emelia glanced down at the coffee cup in her hand.  She dropped it in a trash can on the sidewalk, no longer thirsty.  What was happening to her?  Did Sandy cut herself?  Was she just imagining things?  She felt heat when she touched the girls hand, and then icy cold.  Was she going to end up being one of them?  One of the changed “gifted” ones?  This kind of thing couldn’t happen to her.  She had worked too hard to get to where she was.  She was the queen at school.  She didn’t kid herself.  The only reason Rayanne was friends with her was to look cool.  Same with Nick.

She walked along thinking.  She could not have faced all of them at the coffee shop.  She had too much on her mind to giggle and smile and flash her eyes at every stupid word out of Nick’s mouth. She heard footsteps behind her.  She glanced in a window to see who was behind her and she caught a glimpse of a tall guy with brown hair, wearing jeans and a denim jacket.  Hadn’t she seen him across the street from the coffee shop?

She decided to cross the street and turn around.  It was late and she had walked further than she intended.  He crossed the street too.  Was he following her?  Maybe not.  Maybe she was losing her mind.  This day had been too weird.  She sped up and he walked faster too.  Enough!  She whipped around, more angry than afraid.

“What do you want?”  She stuck out her chin and held her backpack to her side in case she needed to throw it at him and run, if she could run in these stupid shoes.

“Don’t be afraid. You’re Emelia.”

“I know who I am but I have no idea who you are and I’m not afraid. What do you want?”

“Something happened back there in the coffee shop.”

“Yeah, I had an idiot for a waitress who couldn’t get an order right if you wrote it on her hand!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

I don’t know a thing, including you.  This conversation is over!”  Emelia turned and stalked away.  She heard him call after her.

“I will be around if you need me…and you will.”

She ignored him and kept walking.  She didn’t need him.  He was crazy. She saw Rayanne step out of the coffee shop.  She started to wave when Sandy walked out behind her.  They were deep in conversation and Sandy looked up and pointed at Emelia.  Rayanne’s mouth hung open.  Emelia turned around and walked quickly back in the direction she had just come from.  She saw the brown haired guy standing in the shadow of a doorway with his arms crossed.  It made her mad to think he  waited there for her.

She walked past him like she didn’t see him and turned the next corner.  In a few minutes he caught up with her.  “What do you know?” She asked him angrily, without slowing down.

“I know that you are changing and that you are going to need to get out of here pretty quick.”

Emelia didn’t want to believe it but there was no arguing with the facts.  She had touched that girl and her hand healed.  She might not like it but she was going to have to do something. Rayanne would love to see her knocked down.  She would go with him for now.  She needed time to figure things out.

“I want to go home and get some stuff.”

“There really isn’t time for that. How long do you think it will take your friends to spread the word?”

“Who are they going to tell?  I am going home and get my stuff.  I’m not leaving without some necessities.  I don’t even know you.  How do I know you’re not some crazy?”

Ryall stepped into a deep doorway and turned his back to her.  He raised his arms and there were wings on his back.  Emelia shook her head and closed her eyes and opened them again.  She wasn’t hallucinating.  He put his arms down and turned back around. The wings were gone. Emelia stood there with her mouth hanging open for a moment.

“Okay, fine.  You could still be crazy.”  She sounded more serious than angry now.  “Do you have a decent place for me to stay?  I’m still going home first.” She glared at him.

He sighed.  “Fine. But let’s hurry.”

She led him down the side street they were on.  He might think he had come to save her but she knew more than one way to get around.  She made some turns and came up behind her house.

“I’ll wait behind the storage building.  If you aren’t out here in ten minutes, I’m going to leave without you.”

“Fine. Suit yourself.”  She started for the back door. Without turning around she asked him how he knew about the storage building.

“This isn’t my first time to come here.”  She walked into the house.  No one was home, big surprise.  Her parents were always working.  She was used to coming into an empty house.  She ran to her room and started throwing stuff into a leather bag.  Clothes, toiletries, her feather boa.  A girl had to have a few things.  She dumped her jewelry box in and grabbed her diary out from behind the loose baseboard.  She started to grab a picture of her and Nick and instead threw it on the floor.  She was so over him.  She thought about leaving a note.  What would be the point.  Now they could spend creds on themselves and they wouldn’t have to worry about feeding her anymore. She grabbed the bag and headed back to the kitchen and threw as many cans of food in as she could and returned to the back yard.  He was still waiting.

“Are you ready now?”

“Might as well be.  Do you have a name?”

“Ryall.  Let’s go.”

They walked back the way they had come except they turned toward downtown when they got near the coffee shop.  “No sense risking going past there again. Turn down here.”

“So you can fly?”

Ryall just turned and looked at her.

“Duh. You said you had been to my house before.  Why?”

“We knew you were going to change soon.”

“We?  What do you mean we?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

Night Wings Main Page

Night Wings Part 11

Sunday Scribbling 206 the book that changed everything

A Book!  They said Ralph found a book!  Why didn’t I think of it before?  Well, maybe because things were a little crazy, what with flying and Ryall getting healed, and all of us joining together to do it.  Maybe there are answers in that book.

I had been lying here for hours, my mind going in circles.  Now that I had an idea, a direction to go, my eyes got heavy and I thought I could sleep, finally.

Daylight had been around for awhile, I judged by the way the sun was beaming in the upper windows.  It was still shady cool down here but I was stiff from the floor.  I rolled over and looked up at where Ryall was starting to wake up.

“Hey.”  I smiled up at him.

“Hey back.” He said with a small grin.  He still looked a little pale but the smile encouraged me.

“Hungry?”

“I think maybe I am. A little shaky still, but maybe eating would help.”

We had been speaking quietly so as not to disturb the others.  “Let me go find some clean clothes and take care of some personal stuff and I’ll fix something.  Are you okay here for now?”  I was a little afraid to leave him but nature was calling and I needed a toothbrush.

“Yeah. I might need a little help later but I’ll, uh…”

“Get one of the guys to help?”  I smiled again.  If he felt well enough to be embarrassed then he was feeling better. “I’ll be right back.”

I hurried up the stairs and grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a shirt.  Emelia liked the skirts and boots and feathers but feathers and skirts weren’t exactly practical for flying.  I would stick with jeans.  I hit the bathroom and cleaned up and was back downstairs in less than ten minutes.  Ryall was still curled up on his side, wrapped in the quilt.

“I promised Ralph pancakes last night.  Does that sound good to you?  I’ll get you some water before I get started.” Ryall just nodded.

I felt like singing.  I was so happy that Ryall was going to be alright, I felt like I could fly without wings! I got him a glass of water and helped him sit up.  He sipped it at first and it seemed to help.  “If you can sit here by yourself, I’ll start breakfast.  The others will be waking up soon.”

“I’m fine, and Kystel?  Thank you.”

“It was Emelia, not me. I’m just glad you are going to be okay.”

“I know Emelia is a healer but last night was weird.  It was like I wasn’t here but wherever I was, everyone was with me, but you, well, it was different. It was like I felt everyone else through you.”

He was watching my face.  “What?  What really happened?”

“That’s just it, Ryall.  I’m not sure.  Let me get breakfast going and we’ll talk about it later. I think everyone will want to be in on that conversation.”

Ralph sat up, wide awake.  “Pancakes?  Hey Kystel, I’ll help you!  What do you want me to do?”

Ralph had a way about him that always made me laugh.   “Good morning, Ralph.  Why don’t you get plates and syrup out?”

“Sure thing, Kystel.”  Ralph’s red hair was sticking up more than usual. He made me think of some kind of funny bird.  There was something about him that made me want to hug him.  He reminded me of Mattie not his looks but some quality that made me want to look after him.

The others were beginning to move around, all except Emelia.  Sloan reached around to grab a pancake and got a swat on his hand with the pancake turner.  “Ouch!”

“Wait for the others.” I grinned at him.

“Do you want me to wake Emelia?”

Emelia was still out. I hoped last night wouldn’t have any lasting ill effects on her. “Let her sleep for a bit longer.  I’ll keep some warm for her.  I think last night was hardest on her.”

Plates of pancakes and syrup were passed around and for awhile there wasn’t much to say.  Everyone was hungry.  Lolly and Arkin helped clean up.  Emelia finally woke up.

“What is all the racket?”  Emelia sat up frowning, and grabbed her head. She was pale and her eyes were shadowed.  “And who kicked me in the head?”

“Hey Em, rough night, huh?” Sloan went and sat next to her, peeling her hands from her head.  “Let me look at you.  Kystel will you bring you some water.  Lolly, you know where she keeps that headache medicine?”

“On it.” Lolly ran upstairs. I handed a glass to Sloan.

“Ryall!” The sudden movement and sound of her own voice had Emelia reaching for her head again but Sloan beat her too it, gently massaging her temples and talking softly to her.  “He’s fine.  He’s on the couch and just finished a plateful of pancakes.”

“Oh figures.  You let me sleep and while you eat up all the goodies.  Next one of you gets a paper cut – you are on your own.”  Emelia spoke quietly but at least her usual sarcasm was back.  “Welcome back Emelia, you’re starting to sound like yourself.” We exchanged a look across the room. Lolly showed up with the headache powder and Emelia made a face but swallowed it down with the rest of the water.

“I saved you some pancakes.  Here’s a cool cloth to put on your head.  As soon as you feel like it, I’ll bring you your plate.”  Kystel held the compress out to Sloan who laid on Emelia’s head.

“Oh man, that is heaven.  Give me a minute and then I would love those pancakes.  Despite this screaming headache I am starving!”

I took Ralph’s plate and he smiled up at me. “Thanks Kystel, you ate the best!” I thought this would be as good a time as any. “When you finished the eschatometer a book was mentioned.  A book that you found?”  Is it a big secret or something?”

Ryall turned to look at them.

“Nope.  It’s just big and old and hard to read.”  Ralph was smiling at her so she guessed it must be okay to ask about it.

“Do you think I could see it sometime?”

“Sure Kystel.  I’ll go get it now.”

Ralph darted out and up his ladder, coat flying out behind him.  By the time he came back, I was handing a plate of pancakes and a cup of tea to Sloan for Emelia. The rest looked on with interest as Ralph carried what appeared to be a huge and very old book to where he had been sitting On the couch.  He patted a place by him.  I sat down next to him and he held it open on his lap.

The cover was leather and cracked with some of the edges torn.  The spine was creased with wear, and I could see that the edges of the pages were rough as though they had been hand made.  Ralph blew on it and we both began to sneeze and cough as the dust flew up.

“So what’s in it?” I asked him.

Ralph looked at me with shining eyes. “Everything!”

Night Wings Main Page

Sunday Scribbling Springing Forward

Beautiful Sunday even with the silly clock changing mess.  Early service with a wonderful speaker, Gayle Erwin. If you ever have the opportunity to hear him it will be a joy.  After lunch a walk around the track, sun shining, families playing soccer, and trees budding out.  There was just enough of a cool breeze to keep from breaking a sweat.

The prompt at Sunday Scribbling is a life changing book or collection of words.  There have been too many books over the years to choose just one.  The first book I can remember reading is The Witch on Blackbird Pond which makes the list because it made me fallin love with books. The Bible, The Stand, Alas Babylon, I Never Promised You a Rose Garden,  Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values mentioned by Solitary Panda is on the list, and so many more.  Those are just a few that gave me joy, epiphany, a good cry, and just became good close friends. The Twilight Series.  Yes I know, you now have absolutely no respect for me, right?  It was my introduction to YA literature.  When I was a YA, either it was limited or I just skipped it somehow.  I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance in high school.  A friend loaned it to me saying she knew I would never give it back.  I didn’t really understand what she meant but over the next three years I bought four copies, loaned each one out and never saw it again.  It was that kind of thing.  So YA lit was a revelation to me and it came at a time when I had been entirely too serious for entirely too long.  I woke up and now I’m trying to learn to write it. It has been a gift that keeps on giving because of the wonderful “online” friends I have made and the thump on the head that said if your feet will no longer dance, you can still dream and that is what being young in your heart is all about. You can check out some of these talented people by taking a stroll through my blogroll.  You will not be disappointed!

I have begun to feed my Kindle ebooks by authors that I have “met” online.  I’m planning to post about each as I read it. I just finished Paschal‘s Scarred Angels.  I mentioned in an earlier post that I was reading it on my kindle. I absolutely LOVED it – hear that Professor?  You need to publish that thang.  I grew to love the characters  and realized – REALLY realized how incredibly important character is. I knew it, I did.  I now KNOW it.  I just have to learn how to do it. I really enjoyed the book and it was only near the end that I had my ah ha moment. By then I had already gone over the edge.  This merits much more than a paragraph – it has it all going on, relationship, betrayal, redemption, sex, and a little bit of murder thrown in.  I would buy this and pay extra to have a signed copy! Most of all, the author has a deep love for humans – especially the broken and it comes through the words on every page. If you would like a romp through words that are bent and tangled and dancing to their own kind of music you can click the Paschal link above or look for Murat11 on my blogroll.

Now if I have embarrassed Professor P enough I have a couple of shout-outs to some local bloggers.  One is a lovely young woman, mother, and student who shows off her photography at LifeStylesPhoto.  Stop by and give her a little encouragement.

The next is the North Texas Food Bank blog.  The blogger is smart and tough and compassionate (and went to high school with my son).  She is presently at SXSW learning about building online communities. The following is from their about page:

The North Texas Food Bank (NTFB) is a nonprofit hunger relief organization that distributes donated, purchased and prepared foods through a network of feeding programs in 13 North Texas counties. The NTFB supports the nutritional needs of children, families and seniors through education, advocacy and strategic partnerships. Close the Gap is the NTFB’s 3-year initiative to unite the community to narrow the food gap by providing access to 50 million meals annually.

Founded in 1982, the NTFB is a certified member of Feeding America (formerly America’s Second Harvest – The Nation’s Food Bank Network). Last year 26 million meals were distributed. Each month agency pantries distribute food to more than 50,000 families and on-site meal programs serve 435,000 meals/snacks.

Every dollar donated to the NTFB provides four meals for the hungry. Out of every dollar donated, 97 cents goes directly to hunger relief programs.

You want life changing?  Those words could change a life if you follow up with action.  If you are in the area, donate, participate, or at least pass on the info.

Now I’m off to write another chapter for Night Wings. To end this post, I will leave you with a favorite poem.

Blessed Lord, what it is to be young;
To be of, to be for, be among
Be enchanted, enthralled
Be the caller, the called
The singer, the song, and the sung

David McCord

Namaste

Just Words

Sunday Scribbling #205 Prompt: Fluent

words spin around my head
eddies of fonts and letters
sucked into the void of crowds
some loud
some just a whisper
a wing and a prayer
under my hair
a wispy breeze
stirs the leaves around my feet
complete
the sentence
the story
the glory of stepping outside
of the world, they swirl
and curl up with ashen edges
on ledges, in corners
under the carpet swept
with a straw broom
into the room of
my mind unlocked
by a million keys
to see, to finally understand
the hand that writes
the dream alive
is yours for the listening
the glistening
river washed glass
of softest green
warm in the sand
bathed in sunlight rays
of days of singing filling
holes in our souls
or breaking walls winding halls
that connect us
language of life

Night Wings Part 7

Sunday Scribbling #204 Big Dreams and One Word: Idiot

To read previous Night Wings stories click the nightwings tag at the bottom of this post

Morning always comes and the soft pink light of dawn was creeping over the city skyline. Ryall awoke, stiff from sleeping half sitting against a wall.  Kystel was still asleep with her head on his shoulder.  He hated to wake her but they were exposed out here in the light.  He moved, trying to get more comfortable and she opened her eyes and sat up, looking slightly embarrassed.

“I..I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay. We both fell asleep.  We need to get inside though.”  He stood and reached out his hand to help her up.  She let him pull her up and ran fingers through her hair.  They walked to the access door and before they could get to it it burst open and Sloan came flying out, skidding to a stop.

“Ryall!  I’ve been looking all over for you!  Oh, Hi Kystel.  Come on, man you got to see this!”

He was pulling Ryall by the arm and as they ran down the stairs he told them between breaths. “Ralph is dreamwalking again.  I got up and he had been working all night.  You have to see it!.  I think he has it working!”

They were taking the steps several at a time, Kystel following as quickly as she could.  They arrived at Ralph’s workshop the same time as Emelia.  Lolly and Arkin were already there.  They were huddle around the back of his workbench staring down at something glowing with a blue-greenish light. Ryall stepped up to Ralph and lifted the goggles from his face.  Underneath, his eyes were closed.  He continued working with his hands.  This must be what Sloan meant about dream walking.

Kystel couldn’t quite see what was on the workbench, so she moved closer.  Ralph was just standing in front of the bench now.  Ryall put his hand on his shoulder and said his name.  Ralph slowly opened his eyes.  He looked down at the bench and picked up a chain.  Attached was a glowing ball that had a depth to it – green and blue sparkling fluid like substance changing constantly.  The globe was encased in copper rings that moved separately.  It was beautiful.

Ralph walked to Emelia and placed it around her neck.  Emelia’s eyes grew wide in consternation.  “What are you doing, Ralph?  I don’t want that!  Take it off!”  Emelia began to pull the chain over her head and the colors changed.  The bright glowing blues and greens turned grayish and started to have a pink shimmer.

“Emelia, don’t!” Ryall said.

Ralph held up a hand.  “It has to be you, Emelia.”

“How do you know? You sleep walking fool!  Why do you think you have the answers?” Emelia snarled at him, but Arkin put his hand on her arm.

“Leave him alone Emelia.  You know he doesn’t know how it works.  It just comes through him.”  She looked up at Arkin with tears in her eyes and he hugged her.  “You’re the healer.  It makes sense.”

Ralph had backed up into the corner and was hugging his coat around him.  “I’m sorry Emelia.  Don’t be mad.”

Emelia looked at him over Arkin’s shoulder. “I’m not mad, you idiot.  You know I’m not. And I’m not scared either!  And you!  Get off me you big creep!” She pushed Arkin away and looked around defiantly.  “What are you all looking at?  So now what, Ralph?”

“Now, we wait.”

Kystel looked around the group.  “Is someone going to explain this to me?”

Ryall smiled. “Ralph found a book.” We’re still trying to figure it all out.”

Ralph yawned.  “I started doing the weird sleep working thing.  It’s like something was coming through me, like I was the radio and the music found my wavelength.”

Kystel frowned.  “So what does it mean? We are a bunch of weirdos that part of the world thinks are freaks of nature that should be destroyed and now we have jewelry that’s as freaky as we are?”  You are all crazy, and I’m beginning to think I’m crazy too.”

“Yeah, we’re all wackadoo and you’re our new queen. Get over it Kystel. At least you don’t have to wear the freaky bauble.”  Emelia was holding the chain away from her neck and looking down at it like it might bite her.

Ralph was asleep with his head on his arms and snoring.

Lolly smiled. “It’s about balance.  Balance for us.  Balance for the world.”

Sloan chimed in.  “There’s good and bad, humans and machines. That’s our dream.”

Ryall waved Arkin over to help him pick up Ralph. “Come on Kystel, don’t you wonder why we can fly and why Emelia can heal, and all the others?  There has to be a reason.”

They took Ralph over to a couch and covered him with his coat.

“Well all this thinking is making me hungry.  Somebody want to show the new girl where stuff is so we can get breakfast cooked?”  Kystel wasn’t about to go completely crazy on an empty stomach.

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Night Wings part 5

Sunday Scribblings #203 – When Pigs Fly

The boy on the back of the bike stared from Kystel to Emelia, then at Ryall.

Lolly rolled her eyes and put her arm around Kystel.  “Kystel, this is Emelia.  You’ll have to excuse her.  She hasn’t been around people much and her manners are a little rusty.”  She looked pointedly at Emelia.

Emelia dropped her arm and glared at Ryall for a moment, then stepped forward.
“Nice to meet you.”  The words were welcoming.  The tone was anything but.

“Hi.”  Kystel answered without a smile.  She glanced at Ryall.  He brought her here.  The next move was his.

“So what kind of freak is she?”  The boy put his hand on Emelia’s shoulder.
“She’s a flyer, like Ryall.”  He said.

Kystel stared at him and then at Ryall.  “How did he know that?”

Ryall introduced them. “Kystel, meet Arkin.  One of his gifts is the ability to see “freaks” and identify their gifts. “

“Wow.  I bet the Mekaneks would love to get their hands on him.”  Kystel said.  “What about her?”  Kystel nodded her head in Emelia’s direction.

“None of your business, freak!”  Emelia was smiling now.  She seemed to enjoy being a pain.
“She is a healer.”  Sloan said grinning. Lolly had her hand over her mouth and even Ralph had stopped looking anxious and started to smile.  Ryall looked away and Kystel tried not to laugh.  Arkin was the first one to give.  In a moment they were all laughing.  Emelia tried not to but even she finally loosened up.

“She’s really very good.”  Ryall sputtered. “You might need her sometime!”

Kystel still laughing put her hands on her hips. “That will happen the day I play poker with the twins!”

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Greenback Smack

One Word: Cash

Sunday Scribbling: Ethics

We don’t take no credit cards
round here
your money ain’t no good
the cost can’t be
calculated or
spread on a sheet
just justified
balance owed
toe to toe the line
you will pay
oh yes you will
everybody does but
turn out your pockets
nothing but lint
what you thought you’d won
the taste, the sweet, the syrupy
goodness that turned
to sawdust in your mouth
and crumbled like
west Texas dirt
only to cough up the price
the ice
the nice piece of change
we need one
and it will come
cash only
no returns, no refunds
no re-runs
some things only come round once
make our heads spin
the delicate cycle
down and down into
deep pockets
empty sockets
no peeking without
a ticket
a tick tock clock
pay by the hour
time is money
and time is running out

Night Wings part 2

Sunday Scribbling #200 prompt Milestone
Ryall twitched his wings and wheeled west grinning over his shoulder at Kystel. She tried the same maneuver and found it was easy. She darted after him watching his silhouette against the moon. Suddenly he was beside her pointing to a ledge. They both landed on it and he pulled her against the wall in the shadows. She heard an engine noise and he put his finger to his lips and pressed up against the stones. She had seen the dirigibles from the ground, but never so close. She could actually see the faces of pilots inside and the blinking lights on the sides would have been pretty if it hadn’t been for the terrifying sound of the steam engines that slowly pushed the huge balloon through the paths between the buildings. She and Ryall were still and silent as it passed by them.

“It’s gone. It won’t make this route again for hours.”

When Ryall found her she was living in an abandoned building, half starved. She still had so many questions but she was starting to see that maybe life wasn’t going to be completely horrible. She had hid the changes from everyone, including her family including her family until one day she and her younger brother had climbed out on the roof to sit and talk. They had been joking around and she tickled him and he started to slide. She grabbed for his hand but he kept going. She didn’t even think. She just jumped. She caught him and they floated to the ground. He stared at her, not with gratitude, but horror. She needed the wings and they were just there. She put him down and ran into the house. He followed her slowly. She was in her room, shoving things into a bag. He stood in the doorway, crying.

“Kystel, what are you going to do? What about Mom and Dad?”

Kystel kept packing. “You tell them I love them. If I stay you know what will happen, Matty. The Mekaneks will punish them because of me. ” After the wars some babies were born with special abilities and they were viewed as dangerous mutations and taken away. No one ever saw them again. The families were often treated as though they were contagious and they were shunned. Her dad could lose his job. She was not going to be taken away as though she had done something wrong.

“But where will you go?”

“I’ll find a place and when I can, I’ll let you know where I am. Now stop sniffing and wipe your nose.” She handed him a handkerchief and hugged him. “I love you Matty. I’m sorry.” She grabbed her bag and ran out the door. That had been months ago.

“Okay, ready?” Ryall’s voice jerked her back into the present and she nodded. He was taking her to others like them. She wasn’t sure she trusted him completely but she didn’t have a choice. She nodded and he leapt from the ledge with her following. It was darker now and the only light came from the streets below. She followed Ryall between buildings and over a part of town she didn’t recognize. Ryall pointed down at some kind of warehouse and headed down toward it. Kystel followed. They came to ground in a alley and Kystel was suddenly reluctant.

“Come on. You’re going to love them.” Ryall had his hand on the door handle.

“Wait. What if they don’t like me? What if they don’t want me to stay?” Kystel knew this was going to be some kind of milestone. Once she met the others and knew where they lived she was committed. Until now she could pretend that this was only temporary. That she would wake up and go home one day and everything would be the way it was.

“Kystel, everyone is afraid at first. You are one of us and we take care of each other.” Ryall pulled the handle and entered, holding it open for her. Kystel stepped inside.

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Night Wings

Three Word Wednesday CLXXIII prompts : ideal, measure, and teeter Sunday Scribblings #199 Prompt: Yes

He turned back to look at her, smiling, his silhouette dark against the evening sky.  Even though she couldn’t see it, she could hear the smile in his voice.  “Come on.  You can do it.  I promise!”

She took a step onto the parapet, teetering a little.  She held her hands out for balance. She trusted him.  It was herself she doubted.

“Come on!  This is the ideal place.  No one can see us up here.  They can’t hear us either!”  He yelled the last as if to prove it to her.

Kystel took a step, measuring her stride by the bricks that made up the wall.

“Hold out your hand now.” Ryall said.

She stretched out her hand and met his fingers.  He guided her a few more steps until she was standing next to him.  He held her fingers and they looked out over the city skyline.

“Are you ready?”

Kystel grinned.  “As ready as I am ever going to be.  How do we do this?”

“You just let go and trust what you feel.”

“Ryall?”

“It will be okay.  I’ll be with you.”

He leaned out and left the edge as though he were diving into a pool.  Kystel hesitated a moment longer and then followed him.  There was no weight, no feeling of sinking.  The air currents took her and held her as though she was part of the sky.  There was no noise except the wind rushing by her ears.  She was close to Ryall now and could see his dark wings unfolded.  He glanced back and hovered as she caught up.

For the first time in her life, she felt at home.

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These Are The Good Old Days

Sunday Scribbling Prompt# 198: Good Old Days

LeeAnn washed the rest of the dishes.  George didn’t like it when the kitchen was a mess. It had been a bad day.  The car had a flat.  There was no way they would have enough gas to make it to payday.  There had been enough money for booze, though.  He’d been drinking and she could hear him slamming things in the bedroom.  He took some pills, too. She dried the last dish and hung the dishtowel on the rack to dry.  She wiped the already clean counter one more time, nudging a canister back in line. George was coming up the hall now.  He stopped and punched a hole in the cheap paneling.  She came around the counter just in time for him to look up and the expression on his face made her run out the door.

LeeAnn had never run before but something in his eyes made her feet start moving before she had time to think about it.  She took off into the woods behind the trailer.  She had only made it a couple of feet when his hand yanked the back of her shirt and their momentum caused them both to hit the ground, him on top of her.  He yelled and got up, jerking her with him.  “You running away, LeeAnn?  Huh?  Where you gonna go?”

His arm went back and she saw the hand coming at her. Things went black and then sparkly.  It felt like her eye had exploded.  He drug her back to the trailer and up the steps, slinging her at the living room.  She crawled to a chair and pulled herself up into it, folding her legs up under her and wrapping her arms around herself.  She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.  She watched him as he sat on the couch, staring out the window.  She waited.

George came over to LeeAnn and pulled her up and hugged her.  The usual apology plus explanation about how she shouldn’t have run.  How he wouldn’t have gotten so mad if she just hadn’t run.  How it was really her fault after all.  She hugged him back.  It didn’t mean anything. She closed down and went somewhere else.

They went to bed and he held her up against him.  She was still until she heard his breathing change.  She eased his arm off of her.  He mumbled something in his sleep and just in case, she told him she had to pee and would be right back.

LeeAnn slipped quietly from the bed and went into the bathroom and turned on the light.  She touched her face. Her eye was swollen shut.  She opened the cabinet and reached behind the cleaning supplies for the bandaid can where she had stashed a little money.  She pulled on the jeans and tee shirt that were folded on top of the dirty clothes basket.  She stopped in the hall and listened. She slipped up to the kitchen and got the can of charcoal starter out from under the sink.  She sprinkled it down the hall on the carpet and took their marriage certificate and rolled it up.  She struck a match and lit the paper on fire and set it on the carpet and threw the rest of the starter on it.

She closed the door behind her and stood for a moment in the front yard until she saw the flames.  The old trailer would burn quickly.  The cool night air made her swollen eye water and it stung.  She started walking and singing quietly.

“Anticipation…Anticipation is makin me late, is keepin me waiting.”

Hunger

Sunday Scribbling# 197: Extreme and One Word: Latch

there’s always a catch
a stainless steel latch
locks you in
keeps you out
turn the handle
light the candle
there’s a light
that’s never shown on me
that’s what the song said
chorus and verse
birth to hearse
become the game
the rules
the same
the lame excuses of old
can’t, won’t, shouldn’t
couldn’t if I wanted to
rearrange the pieces
they still won’t fit
the picture is overrated
the cost prorated
the directions keep changing
like the landscape
like the superman cape
you need to fly
to try
don’t do extreme
moderation is key
in all things, they say
life swings like a pendulum
the wheel turns and
the wick burns
and smiles don’t pay the piper
now or later
you’re gonna come down
Joni sang it, knew it
we listened but did we
do it
we came for the banquet
all you can eat
that’s what the invite said
but we all cried
when the bill came due
we were still hungry
though the table looked pretty
it lured and drew
like a moth to flame
like children we came
grasping, shoving, like hounds
barking and growling for scraps
from the laps
of those that would have all
be all that, satin and lace
a pretty face
we wanted meat
sweet succor
but we settled for the package
the trappings
the wrapping
and got the empty box
the crumpled bag
the ragged sound
of our own tears
the years we could have
fed one another

The Last Leaf Falls

Sunday Scribbling prompt #196: New Leaf

latente



we wait through days and nights
through the seasons
darks and lights
roaming earth by ones and twos
until the last leaf falls

seeking all and knowing nothing
wanting only
souls touching
taking paths we think we choose
until the last love calls

sifting thoughts, ideas, memories
like leaves
from autumn trees
turning over new and old
until life’s glory palls

still the end of all eludes us
seeking peace
that passeth each
one’s mortal comprehension
hoping all
is true in stories
happy endings, heroes lending
forest carpet
we all treading
til the last leaf falls

Delicious Secrets

Sunday Scribbling prompt #195: delicious

Prompted to write: Fixer Upper

One Word: Clasp

hammer51012

photo credit: Hammer51012

Clarice hated contests of all kinds so everyone who knew her was shocked when she announced she had put her name in the hat for the local radio contest.  Twenty-one weeks of clues and there were four contestants left.  The clues had all been historical facts about Ira Township and her family had lived here for generations.  She knew nearly everything about the area and what she didn’t know, could be found in the trunks in her attic.  She hoarded and protected those secrets.  They would have their uses.  For now, she just examined the good people of this town with new eyes – eyes that knew what was behind the nuances and alliances. Delicious stuff.



The only other contestant that worried her was Brent Carmichael.  He had lived here all of his life too.  The prize was the old Vernier house and she wanted that house more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.  Not because it was a great house.  It was a monstrosity.  It was old and not in a good way. It was badly in need of costly repairs and some New Age nut cases had gotten a hold of it for awhile and done bizarre things with paint.



The house held a secret.  She was pretty sure that she and Brent were the only people alive who knew about it and if Brent won, the secret would never be told, because it was about his family.  He had always bragged about the Carmichaels, so uppity like they were something special because some of his ancestors had been among the founding fathers of the township.  The Vernier house had originally been built by Zachary Carmichael and it had been in the family until old man Vernier bought it back in 1951.



Clarice stopped in at Mabels and ordered a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.  She had barely gotten her cream stirred in when in walked Brent.  He nodded at her and she nodded back, fuming.  There went her appetite.  She held up a finger at Lorraine and the waitress brought her the check.  She left cash enough for her bill and a tip sitting on the table and draped her pashmina around herself, grabbing up her newspaper and strode out the door.  It was one hour until the last clue would be given out on the radio and she wanted to be near her research and a phone.  She spared one last grimace for Brent as he nearly got choked on his coffee when he looked up and saw her looking at him.  She smiled inside thinking about how he would look if he truly was choking.



She started her car and drove home, hitting the garage opener and parking inside.  She settled with her trunks and her cell phone on the cushions she had drug up to the attic and waited for the radio station to broadcast the last clue.  The intro music played and the broadcaster welcomed everyone back to the final round of the Ira Township History Contest.  Clarice fidgeted with her phone, wishing the imbecile would quit dragging out the excitement and get to the clue.  She listened and hit the speed dial button on her phone.  She didn’t even have to look this one up.  She was the first caller!  She rapidly gave the answer and goofy horns and bells and whistled hit her double, from the phone and the radio which she quickly lowered the volume on.  She had done it!  The house would be hers!



She made arrangements with the station to meet them the next day for promo shots of her taking the key to the house and poured herself a glass of champagne from the bottle she had bought, anticipating the ending.  Too bad she couldn’t see Brent’s face right now.  That was the only thing that could make this sweeter.  Her cell rang and she knew the number that showed up on her screen.  She answered sweetly. “Hello, Brent! Calling to congratulate me?”  She smiled and did a little dance as she waited for his answer.



“I should kill you for this Clarice.”  Void of the usual sarcasm, his voice sounded tired and sad.




“I’d like to say I’m sorry Brent, but that would just be a big old lie.  You know all about big old lies, don’t you?  I mean, seeing as how your entire family and their history in this town is predicated on the hugest one of all?  Grand daddy Zach braving hardships all alone and then befriending the local Indians who helped him stay alive those first few winters right?”



“Clarice, you bitch.  You’ll ruin me and my family if you don’t keep your mouth shut!”



“Brent, dear, I’m counting on it!”  She clicked end on her phone and spun around laughing.  This was just too wonderful.  She remembered every slight.  Every time Brent and his family had treated her like dirt, like she wasn’t good enough for them, just because of the divorce.  The story was that her grandmother had been divorced by Brent’s Grandfather because she had an affair.  Clarice knew the truth.



The next day she dressed with care and drove to the old Vernier house.  The Newspaper and Radio people were already there.  The bright yellow van with CKLW The Sound of the Motor City painted on the side was parked across the street and the guy from the radio was chatting with Mr. Hornberger from the Blue Water Weekend, a little weekly rag that was more ads than news.  Clarice checked her hair and make-up in the mirror and got out of her car, noticing Brent’s car parked down the block.  She gave a little wave and walked over to the Radio van.



“Gentlemen? Let’s get this show on the road!” Clarice was excited about the hoopla, but the big prize was after everyone left and she had the house to herself.  She had brought supplies with her so she wouldn’t even have to go home.  A pair of jeans, work gloves, sledge hammer, and a nice picnic basket of treats for celebrating.  The obligatory interview and pictures of her with the radio station president handing over the key as they both posed for the camera were out of the way.  She shook hands with everyone, smiling and bobbing and thanking them repeatedly.  All she could think about was being alone and getting in that house.



She smiled and waved as they drove off. Time to unload the car and get to it!  She hauled everything inside and changed into work clothing.  Clarice wasn’t sure how much trouble it was going to be but she was prepared.  She carried her tools and a lantern down the creaky basement steps and looked around.  There was a little light coming through the basement windows.  The basement was completely empty, a little dusty from sitting there for years with no one living here.  The last residents had cleaned it obobbydimitrovut.  She started walking around the basement, knocking on the walls and listening for a hollow sound.  When she had found the spot she was looking for, she got her sledge hammer and hoisted it up.  She let loose on the wall and a hole appeared with spider web cracks branching out around it.



The stupid hammer weighed a ton and she could barely lift it but once she got it moving, the weight carried it the rest of the way.  In a short time she had made a person sized hole in the wall.  She could see something in there but she held back, not allowing herself to look until she could clean out the debris and get in there with the lantern.  It was there!  The skeleton of the Indian woman old Zach had taken as a common law wife after he divorced her grandmother.  Along with the pile of bones was the necklace her grandmother had described in her journal and the original deed to the land that would become the town.  Here was all the proof she needed that old Zach had forced the woman to sign the paper and then killed her and walled over the proof!  She took pictures and stuck the camera in her jacket pocket.



Taking the wall down had been hard work.  She went upstairs to get her picnic basket and went back down to the basement to celebrate in front of her prize.  Next city council meeting, Brent would resign, citing health issues and she would step in.  She had other secrets to use.  Mr. high and mighty mayor who had been the town pharmacist for years had been getting a little too touchy feely with the young girls that came in the store.  Everyone felt sorry for him because his wife had been ill as long as anyone could remember.  Maybe he was the one making her ill.  Old Ed Borowski had also opposed her being on the council.  Everyone respected Ed.  He had the contracts for all the major construction in the county.  There were a few “skeletons” in his basement too.  She smiled at that thought.  They were all in for a surprise.  She was lost in her thoughts, munching her egg salad sandwich and didn’t hear the sound of the hammer swishing down at her head until it was too late.



Brent drug her body in behind the partial wall and sat down to finish her meal.  Building that wall back was going to be an all night job but it would be worth it.  There would be a bit of a stir when people realized Clarice was missing but it would blow over.  Maybe he would suggest they condemn this place at the next city council meeting.

Algonquin Magic

Sunday Scribblings: Dare

When things got too crazy in the city Micaela moved.  Fair Haven.  She had not been back to Fair Haven since she was eighteen.  It was one of those towns with one main highway running straight through. If you weren’t careful you found yourself leaving it before you arrived.   The kind of town you can’t wait to grow up and leave. Sixteen bars, five gas stations and a drug store.

Of course, that wasn’t counting the marinas.  She knew this was where she would stay.   Water fed her soul.  The wooded areas and the miles of coast land with the cattails and shallow marshes held more magic than most entire cities.  That’s where Micaela needed to be.  Near the magic and out where she could sit on a pier and let the rhythm of the waves soothe her.  She was back.

But the waves would have to wait for summer.   For now the waves slept under the snow and ice and the whole town was quiet.  Micaela walked through the streets, hands in her pockets.  She wished she had remembered her gloves  Her feet crunched on the snow as she strolled towards her new home.  She was renting an old boathouse with living space upstairs.   On summer evenings she could sit in the old rusted metal lawn chair in back and watch the fisherman slowly bringing their boats back home at dusk when the mosquitoes would be swarming in the willow trees, coolers full of fish, happy tired guys all sunburnt and smelling like beer.

The boats were put up for winter and the canal was frozen over.  The ice was black but where snow had drifted you could see the moonlight reflected and it was easy to walk along the canal towards the lake.

She started hearing the voices when she hit puberty.  She was sent to visit her grandmother who knew what was happening and taught her how to begin controlling and separating them.  These days she often slept through the day and stayed up at night when most people were asleep.  She had learned to close her mind to much of the chatter but night brought a relief and peace that came with not having to control it.  Her grandmother was fae and had been through much of what Micaela had experienced but Micaela had surpassed her by the time she was twenty.

At first she hated people.  Hated the petty things they thought.  Hated knowing too much. Over time, she had learned to love them.  They were weak but they fought it.  They fell, but they kept trying. They were confusing, wonderful, and endlessly changing.

This night, there was no sound except the skittering noises of a muskrat, the creaking of the ice,  her own footsteps, and the wind in the ice covered branches of the trees.  She walked along, alone with her thoughts except for the occasional ghost.  Old fishermen who had passed on but refused to pass over, to give up their lake.  They grumbled about noise scaring off the fish as she passed by, but she ignored them.

There was power in this place.  It was situated on a natural border, there was water all around, and the spirits of the Old Ones still lived this place.  There had been People here for thousands of years.  Not the whites, though they claimed this winter wonderland.  No, the People Of the Land, the Potawatomi, though they had been herded up and now were mostly confined to an island out in the St. Clair River.   Power tends to concentrate at borders and here it was enhanced by the spirits of the Old Ones.

Micaela had reached the end of the canal and stared out over the dark expanse of the lake.  She could feel the power gathering around her.  It came to her with no effort on her part.  Did she dare?  She held her hands out and with a slight movement of her fingers, the snow began to rise from the ice.  She closed her eyes and waited and when she opened them, there stood Brother Wolf.  The spirits of the Old Ones stared out at her from ice blue eyes.  She lowered her head slightly to show respect.  Brother Wolf howled once and turned and trotted away. Micaela turned and walked back down the canal to her boathouse.  Summer was going to be interesting.

Simon Meets A Dragon

Sunday Scribbling #193 : brave

Simon sat still on the rock. The sun was at that point where you couldn’t see it anymore but the colors in the sky betrayed the position it so recently held. There were cushions of clouds that reflected the gold and orange and rose before they pushed into the purple that was on it’s way to deepest blue.
The black shape whirling through the sky came ever closer then darted away again. It had the power to kill Simon in one swipe or one breath of it’s fiery nostrils if it chose. Silence and stillness were the test and if he failed there wouldn’t be a second chance.

The last pass was close enough that the sunset colors glinted off the green scales and the indigo of the evening sky could be seen though the nearly transparent skin of the wings. It was cold but still Simon sat. He had travelled for days to get to Weyr Rock and that was after years of trying to learn it’s location. The knowledge had been common at one time. The dragons hid their home by way of magic, for survival. He knew that they were aware of his presence. He had felt the magic going out around him. It made his skin tingle, and the air smell like lightening.

Long ago, before these kings and their wars, magic was known. Now, politics and intrigue had pushed it aside. Wizards who once held kingdoms together and kept the evil at bay, were in hiding like the dragons. The land was cold and dark for most. The poor, the powerless, they were the ones protected by magic and now, they were on their own.

Once a month at the full moon, he had gone to the mountain and Nuala left her moon for one night and they would dance and talk until morning when she would have to return. It was one such night that she told him of the Weyr Rock and how to travel there. The kings had had their time. It was time to bring magic and dragons back.

The green and bronze monster circled closer each time and though he had trumpeted a warning to others, he alone showed himself. Dragons had their own politics and this one must be very powerful to have kept the rest from killing Simon.

Out on the edge of the rock I had set an offering basket of herbs and apples. There were blueberries, borage, bracken, hawthorne berry, and lots of chamomile and garlic. The hawthorne berries were out of respect for the fae. The old stories told of Dragons love for chamomile.

He prayed that Nuala would guide him as the dragon came to rest on the rock, his beautiful scaled tail curling around the outcropping. He bowed his head towards the basket and gently flicked his tongue at the treats. He turned his gaze at Simon and blinked, his scaled lids momentarily covering the lapiz iris and black slit of a pupil. He nodded his head for Simon to speak. Simon told him of the wars and the hunger in the land. He spoke of wizards and fae in hiding because with no dragons they became nothing but pawns for whatever bloodthirsty king had possession of a patch of ground.

Simon told him that he had seen the caves on the mountainside where dragon and human once life bound themselves to each other. He had seen chamomile growing wild among the rocks. The people were ready. They needed dragons.

The dragon nibbled a bite of food from the basket. His huge but somehow delicate wings were folded gracefully and as he ate, puffs of smoke came from his nostrils, an ever present reminder of his power to char Simon to nothing.

The dragon looked at him and Simon heard his voice in his head. The dragons lips never moved but he spoke to Simon as clearly as if he was next to him.

“I am the eldest and remember the days when we lived together in harmony and white magic was strong in the land. I will talk to my brothers but only if you go along.” He blinked again. Simon heard the challenge in the voice in his head.

Simon knew without a doubt, that if he was unable to convince the dragons to help, he would be killed. It was enough that he had found Weyr Rock. They would never let him leave if he held their secret lair. He stood and stared for a second at the moon as it rose. He asked the dragon to lead him there.

The dragon chuckled then. “This is no place you can walk to. There is only one way to get there.” He laid his head down so that his neck was stretched out and Simon could see a natural place just above his wings, just right for a rider. He gathered his cloak and climbed upon the dragon. He grabbed the offering basket and before he could say he was ready, the dragon took off. Simon was flying! He might not live through this night but by the gods, he was riding a dragon! He glanced at the moon and could have sworn he could see it smiling at him. They soared across the top of the mountains. Simon was too excited to be afraid. He yelled with the exhilaration and the dragon laughed. The wind whistled past and in the cold silence, Simon felt the closeness of the moon, of Nuala. He felt alive. He felt hope.

Play Your Cards Right

Sunday Scribbling : Game

Every Friday night it was the same.  HE went and played cards with HIS friends.  It didn’t matter what she wanted.  She tried a time or two to make plans that included him but no, Friday night was sacred.  When she tried to talk to him about it he had the nerve to suggest she go shopping with his mother on those nights.  Like that was ever going to happen!

Well, enough is enough.  SHE would make her own plans for Friday nights and every night from now on.  Laurie had been giving this a lot of thought and she was sure she had every detail covered.  She might not be a poker player but she had her own game with her own rules and it was her turn.  No more full house for him.

SHE had her own deck and it told her what she needed to know.  She shuffled the cards one last time and cut the deck.  The queen of hearts.  What a laugh. She left it sitting there on the kitchen table next to her cell. She flipped her hair back, picked up her suitcase and climbed in the old chevy van.  She hated the thing.  It was like driving a tank.

Every Friday night he went to Tommys and played poker.  He was careful and he was pretty good.  He stayed sober and paid attention.  He had been winning pretty regular and socking it away.  Laurie had gotten kind of crabby about the Friday night thing lately.  He just needed a few more good nights to have the down payment on that sweet little yellow convertible she had been drooling over down at Smitty’s Auto Sales.  Just a few more. She was gonna love it and he was sure she didn’t have a clue.

Chuck passed him another brew.  He took a swig and thought about her reaction when he suggested she go shopping with his Mom. Boy, she was frosted.  He could tell by the look on her face.  He couldn’t wait to see the look when he walked her out to the driveway to see that car.

He had done pretty well tonight.  The last game he totally bluffed and Tommy folded.  He raked the money toward himself and the guys all moaned.

“I think we shoulda just gone down and bought the car for Laurie ourselves.” Chuck scratched his head and laughed. “Guess it wouldn’t have been near as much fun.  I sure hope it’s worth it.

Laurie crossed the bridge over Lake Pontchartrain as the sun was going down.  It would be a good five hours before he got home and realized she was gone.  She’d be the other side of Pensacola by then.  He would call her mama.  It didn’t matter, she was headed for Jax, beaches, and her cousin’s condo.

Two weeks later her mother forwarded the letter from him.  She opened the envelope to find a blank piece of paper wrapped around the photograph that slipped to the floor.  She bent to pick up a picture of Will standing in front of a yellow convertible in front of  Vegas casino.

He was smiling and holding the queen of hearts.  Laurie tore the picture into tiny pieces and threw them in the trash.

queenhearts

Tomorrow my short story “Ladies Night” will be posted on Every Day Fiction.  After reading some of the comments posted on the stories from the last two days I’m a little nervous.  A few friendly “faces” would be nice.

I’ll post the permalink here, in the morning when the story is up.

And here it is.

http://www.everydayfiction.com/ladies-night-by-dee-martin/