new again

Come on, Daddy!

I'm coming. My knees are old; they don't move as fast as they used to.

You're silly. We're almost there, but we have to HURRY!!!

Okay, okay. I'm hurrying.

They got to the top of the hill, and the child sat down. The father looked around trying to figure out what it was he was supposed to see. Trees, grass, flowers: everything was muted by the pre-dawn light.

What

Just wait. Sit and wait.

He sat down and waited. The pinks, yellows and blues awoke in the east, and the life around them started to bloom again. Finally the sun peaked a wary eye over the horizon and everything exploded into the full color spectrum. The clouds reveled in their temporary hues, and creatures began to chat away the morning. It was a sunrise. Not any special sunrise. Something he had seen hundreds (he hoped) of times.

The child tugged his sleeve, seemed to look through him, and sighed.

Isn't it amazing?

Just remembering the amazing things the world does. Trying to not gender the child (which is very difficult). Contemplating the child(like) innocence literary device.

shelly story

“Okay, girls. One story before bed. Come; sit.”

The girls sat around their father’s feet.

“You’re slouching!”

“I am not.”

“Ow! You’re pulling my arm! Can’t you sit right?”

“Can’t you lean back? I’m not as stiff as you are!”

“I’m not stiff! This is how you should sit.”

“Girls! Get along or you can go to bed without a story.”

Silence.

“Once upon a time there was a little girl who was born with a turtle shell on her back.”

“Like we were born holding hand?”

“Yes. No one knew why she had a shell; neither of her parents had one. She had a happy childhood. She would play in the grass with her puppy and was absolutely the best at hide-n-seek.”

“Like we are at Red Rover”

“Right. When she would sleep, she would huddle in her shell – it was wonderfully warm – and she had the most pleasant dreams.

One day while playing hide-n-seek with the other children, Colbin, the town bully, because fiercely jealous of how good she was. He started throwing rocks at her beautiful shell and calling her terrible names. The other children who had all been friendly before started playing this new game. Shelly – that was her name – did not understand what was happening. When on of the rocks hit her in the head, she began to cry. The rocks and insults came faster with every sob.”

“What did she do?”

“She did the only thing she could do. She ran away from the mob, tucking her head in her shell until she reached the end of the clearing and plunged into the Sunless Forest. No child had ever ventured past the forest curtain, not even Colbin, but Shelly entered without thinking. She had to get away.

“Why didn’t she just hide in her shell?”

“Well, a shell is very tough, but it is not unbreakable. Shelly knew she couldn’t just stand there and take that assault.”

“Okay.”

“The children did not follow Shelly. The sun was setting, and it was almost time for supper. After some discussion and a little worry, they headed home. But Shelly did not come out of the woods. Even after the sun had sunk fully below the horizon, she still ran on through the woods, thinking she was still being chased because the sounds of the Sunless Forest sound very much like an angry mob. She ran so deep that the mob suddenly surrounded her. That is when she finally stopped and realized where she was. The world became strangely quiet. She took a stop in the direction from which she had come, but a field GROWL stopped her. She quickly hid in her shell, pulling the small bag her mother always made her carry. She spent the night listening the creatures sniff her shell and walk away.

Okay, girls. Good night!”

“WAIT! What happened to Shelly?”

“No one knows. She never returned from the forest. Her parents leave a candle lit in the window and watch for her to come down the path. And the children of the town were never given dessert again once the adults found out what had happened.”

“That’s not fair! Shelly’s life is ruined or ended and the kids only lose their dessert?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, if Shelly had run to her parents, she would have been safe.”

“I don’t think she was thinking that far ahead. She just needed to protect herself.”

“Those kids should have treated her better.”

“Girls. It is time for bed. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

As he closed the door, one of the girls began to sing softly:

Lost little girl, no way to find
Always felt slightly behind
Parents let her go astray
And wonder why she ran away
Her home is dark beyond the sun
Survival is her only fun
Why did those children beat her down
Bruises painting her like a clown
Now she waits inside her place
For someone to see her face
She will not fail, she will not die
No more waiting idly by
And seeks her fortune and seeks her life
She will prevail in this strife
Don’t weep for her for you will see
Shelly will have victory!

The girls dreamt all night of the courage of Shelly.

This is from a story I've been working on for a few years but haven't been able to find the right voice to tell it.

tree story

Once upon a time, there was a forest full of sentient trees. The trees, though rooted, could move around within the radius of their roots, and they would dance evenings when the stars calmed the world.

The trees had to be careful to not let any humans see them dancing. They had watched many species of mobile creatures taken from the woods live and dead and put to a purpose not their own.

So the trees danced slowly at first and listened with their roots for the vibrations of a human foot.

In the town close by, a sick woman was sleeping. Her 5 year old daughter sat next to the bed with her head on the quilt watching her mother. She didn't remember the days when her mom wasn't confined to the bed, when she would drag her lover into the rain and sway to beat of the raindrops.

Her dad told her about those days. The little girl always imagined a slow twirl and short hops in all of the new puddles the rain had made.

That morning she had heard someone say her mother would never leave the bed, so she sat and she watched.

She heard her father go to bed, and she crept out of the house and ran to the woods. Sometimes she saw her father talking to the sky about her mother, pleading, and she decided if she added her voice to his, maybe her mom would get out of bed.

She went to the edge of the woods and started talking to the air. Her entire life poured out of her mouth, and though it was a small voice and a short life, her tale moved the trees. And they moved for her.

With the voice of the wind, the trees told the little girl that the next night after her father had gone to sleep, she should bring her mother outside to their backyard. The task would be difficult, but they had faith that the little girl could do it. She told them she was frightened but she would get her mother outside when they asked.

The next night, the little girl waited patiently by her mother until her father's tell-tale snores filled the house. She jostled her mother awake and begged her to come outside.

Her mother, weak, tried to protest but gave in to the tiny girl's small demand. With her daughter's help, she rolled over and sat up and came to a wobbly stance.

Slowly, they made their way to back door in the kitchen. The little girl leaned her mother against the refrigerator and opened the door. There, not 20 feet away, the whole forest waited.

Her mother gasped. The little girl calmed her mother's fears, and the largest oak wrapped is leafiest branch around the mother and drew her outside among the trees.

And they danced. Every tree and the mother and the daughter.

The next morning when the little girl's father went to wake her up and check on his wife, he found and empty bed.

He ran through the house and found no one. Next he went to the front yard. Nothing. Then through the house and into the backyard.

There in the middle of the yard, laughing, was his wife and his child. His wife, though still weak, moved in the familiar rainy dances they had shared. His tears flowed freely when she told him "I danced." The trees in the woods heard through the wind their joy, and in the light of day, they danced unafraid.

this story was written for a co-worker who was having a bad day and needed to be distracted.