Wind chimes
Wind chimes
The sound of the dangling glass was singing in the wind like silver bells and liquid sound. I found myself for a moment and thought about the cat sitting there napping on my lap. Why wasn't the summer over yet?... "Chiile, get me some lemonade." I said to my nephew. He's almost eight now and I knew that as soon as I sent him inside he was bound to get into the chocolate. "…and don't you let me catch you snitchin no chocolate ya hear?"
"Yes mama, No mama" He was a good boy, a dumb one but a good one.
Johnathan got up to go inside, and the monster-truck versus T-Rex battle stopped abruptly. As both fell to the floor the cat woke up and stretched. "Go back 'sleep Ronja" John was one to stutter and mis-pronounce things; he did well enough with "Roger" this time. A bit slower than most, Johnathan at least had a good heart.
The kids at school had begun teasing him for being slow, but the girls stood up for him and he was oblivious. Happy and oblivious in his own little world. The rocking chair creaked beneath Aunt Bettie's weight, she was a plump, but healthy woman, She fanned herself, smoother out the cats fur and waited. A much more patient woman than her sister, it seemed Bettie had all she could do to ever get impatient with Johnathan. It was hard sometimes to see him struggle though, and Bettie waited with the best of them.
Johnathan carefully pushed the latch with one finger, held the handle with the other, leaned back... the door slipped from his hands and he fell on his bottom. The cat flinched, for a moment digging her claws in, then back off to sleep, she was used to this sort of thing by now.
As a side note to y'all... Yes, she's female a cat named Roger. Johnathan's sister had namer her when she was found under ol' Roger the Grocer's porch. Sister's gone now, but that was life in those parts, hard to manage keeping the younger more troublin' ones from catchin one thing or 'nother.
As the dust cloud lifted around Johnathan, he didn't seem in the least bit upset. Determined to get it right, he stood up butt first and fingered the door handle again. A hundred times he gone through that door and every once in a while it get's him again. The door grabbed his shirt corned as he let it shut behind him. It knocked him to the floor again when he walked just a step further. Some days were better. Practice makes perfect. He imagined himself a spider making it's first web. Spiders have to try lots of times to get things right. Sometimes they even have to try twenty times to get their first web right, only to have to start over again when the rains get to it. He got up on his hands and feet and walked like a spider would, like he imagined a spider would if it had only four legs and knees like his joints were. 'Even as a spider he would be handicapped' he thought 'but at least he would have practice at it.' and he slinked along in a jaunting and precarious fashion. The hallway was the easiest part, when he started to fall again, the walls would catch him. But he tried not to fall because he saw the walls as being covered in poisonous snaked ready to snap up any unsuspecting spiders hobbling by. He touched them a few times but he was lucky, none of the snakes noticed. Next was the bottom of the pit of doom. The Foyer was lofty and high and standing at the bottom he imagined himself a fly crawling across the picnic table; he had to avoid the fly-swatters and the sticky surfaced fly-traps all along the way. Crawling around every pink blotch in the carpet, Johnathan the amazing Fly-boy managed to avoid sticky gooey death and nearly was squashed once but luckily he felt the wind of the on-coming fly-swatter when he ducked under the air-contidioner which nearly caught him in the back.
His chin felt sore - it must have been his fifteenth sense tingling as he turned to see the great dg beast of the bottom-less pit. It was charging as him with it's slobber of doom! Using his amazing fly-like abilities he practically flew when he jumped onto the chair. The beast slid under him and was defeated.
Johnathan made it to the door before the dog-beast awoke and slipped silently into the kitchen. There he found himself face to face with the next great threat! This was the realm of The Great Cold King. He had to convince the King that little him was no threat! Only then could he slip by, into the Castle and gather the King's lemon-nectar for his dependent and sickly family. He looked all around and could not find the King. It is well known that the King is small, but like Johnathan the small ones are so much more than they appear. Johnathan figured the King must be out on official Cold King business, so he began sneaking quietly to the door of the castle. The handle he knew would be cold so he grabbed a nearby vine from the towel-rack of greatness; Aunt Bettie liked to keep towel racks of greatness in the most convenient of places, and he wrapped the vine around the handle, this should be sufficient insulation he thought as he pulled with all his might on the mighty door. Suddenly he was hit with a rush of cold air and a spot-light. In the coldness he could see his breath and despite the distraction had to try to think fast. He looked up into the Castle shielding his eyes from the light and there on the second shelf was the nectar! It was just within reach and as he brought it down he knew he had to hurry. Already he heard the guard-dogs advancing; the door must have sounded some alarm which was beyond his perception. The heavy contained had to be left on the counter because the leader guard dog was already here. He looked into the great Castle and saw an orange carrot-stick-sword of fore-sight in the bottom drawer. Grabbing it he pointing it at the guard-dog intending to defend himself to the death. But the great beast took one sniff at his weapon and snatched it from him. The Beast chomped on it and sat down hoping for another. The great Johnathan had subdued the beast. Grabbing several carrot-sticks-swords of foresight Johnathan shoved them in his pocket and proceeded to get the nectar pitcher out of the fridgid Castle. He scaled the rock-face with the aid of the now docile beast, which made a good stepping stool when he asked it to lye down. Giving the dog-beast a carrot every time it was good to him, Johnathan convinced the beast to remain loyal. With a glass of the lemon-aid for his dying family in hand he replaced the pitcher to its former place and began to close the door. Something tempting caught his eye and the golden chocolate-cookie-nuggets of poisonous death seemed to almost beckon him with their sweet smell and shiny shell-bowl of temptation. He knew it was a trap intended to bring any daring but dumb adventurer to his demise. "You won't get me this time Cold King! Ha ha!" He yelled and he shut the door of the castle.
Turning back to the treacherous road before him he knew he could not spare a drop, the cup he held was essentially the cup of life and his family needed every precious golden drop to survive. Carrot-sticks in pocket and Dog-beast in tow, he knew the road back would still be treacherous...
As Johnathan handed Aunt Bettie the glass of Lemonade he found himself glad he hadn't spilled any of it. She was Mama to him, the only person close enough to him to be called Mama and her hands were awful shaky anymore. He knew if he had spilled half of it, like he would have done if he weren't so careful, by the time it got to her mouth she would have spilled the other half. Johnathan smiled at her. Bettie, seeing carrots in his pocket and no chocolate on his hands told him to go have himself some chocolate for being so good.
The adventure continued as the wind chimes whistled and marked time as merely summer.
The sound of the dangling glass was singing in the wind like silver bells and liquid sound. I found myself for a moment and thought about the cat sitting there napping on my lap. Why wasn't the summer over yet?... "Chiile, get me some lemonade." I said to my nephew. He's almost eight now and I knew that as soon as I sent him inside he was bound to get into the chocolate. "…and don't you let me catch you snitchin no chocolate ya hear?"
"Yes mama, No mama" He was a good boy, a dumb one but a good one.
Johnathan got up to go inside, and the monster-truck versus T-Rex battle stopped abruptly. As both fell to the floor the cat woke up and stretched. "Go back 'sleep Ronja" John was one to stutter and mis-pronounce things; he did well enough with "Roger" this time. A bit slower than most, Johnathan at least had a good heart.
The kids at school had begun teasing him for being slow, but the girls stood up for him and he was oblivious. Happy and oblivious in his own little world. The rocking chair creaked beneath Aunt Bettie's weight, she was a plump, but healthy woman, She fanned herself, smoother out the cats fur and waited. A much more patient woman than her sister, it seemed Bettie had all she could do to ever get impatient with Johnathan. It was hard sometimes to see him struggle though, and Bettie waited with the best of them.
Johnathan carefully pushed the latch with one finger, held the handle with the other, leaned back... the door slipped from his hands and he fell on his bottom. The cat flinched, for a moment digging her claws in, then back off to sleep, she was used to this sort of thing by now.
As a side note to y'all... Yes, she's female a cat named Roger. Johnathan's sister had namer her when she was found under ol' Roger the Grocer's porch. Sister's gone now, but that was life in those parts, hard to manage keeping the younger more troublin' ones from catchin one thing or 'nother.
As the dust cloud lifted around Johnathan, he didn't seem in the least bit upset. Determined to get it right, he stood up butt first and fingered the door handle again. A hundred times he gone through that door and every once in a while it get's him again. The door grabbed his shirt corned as he let it shut behind him. It knocked him to the floor again when he walked just a step further. Some days were better. Practice makes perfect. He imagined himself a spider making it's first web. Spiders have to try lots of times to get things right. Sometimes they even have to try twenty times to get their first web right, only to have to start over again when the rains get to it. He got up on his hands and feet and walked like a spider would, like he imagined a spider would if it had only four legs and knees like his joints were. 'Even as a spider he would be handicapped' he thought 'but at least he would have practice at it.' and he slinked along in a jaunting and precarious fashion. The hallway was the easiest part, when he started to fall again, the walls would catch him. But he tried not to fall because he saw the walls as being covered in poisonous snaked ready to snap up any unsuspecting spiders hobbling by. He touched them a few times but he was lucky, none of the snakes noticed. Next was the bottom of the pit of doom. The Foyer was lofty and high and standing at the bottom he imagined himself a fly crawling across the picnic table; he had to avoid the fly-swatters and the sticky surfaced fly-traps all along the way. Crawling around every pink blotch in the carpet, Johnathan the amazing Fly-boy managed to avoid sticky gooey death and nearly was squashed once but luckily he felt the wind of the on-coming fly-swatter when he ducked under the air-contidioner which nearly caught him in the back.
His chin felt sore - it must have been his fifteenth sense tingling as he turned to see the great dg beast of the bottom-less pit. It was charging as him with it's slobber of doom! Using his amazing fly-like abilities he practically flew when he jumped onto the chair. The beast slid under him and was defeated.
Johnathan made it to the door before the dog-beast awoke and slipped silently into the kitchen. There he found himself face to face with the next great threat! This was the realm of The Great Cold King. He had to convince the King that little him was no threat! Only then could he slip by, into the Castle and gather the King's lemon-nectar for his dependent and sickly family. He looked all around and could not find the King. It is well known that the King is small, but like Johnathan the small ones are so much more than they appear. Johnathan figured the King must be out on official Cold King business, so he began sneaking quietly to the door of the castle. The handle he knew would be cold so he grabbed a nearby vine from the towel-rack of greatness; Aunt Bettie liked to keep towel racks of greatness in the most convenient of places, and he wrapped the vine around the handle, this should be sufficient insulation he thought as he pulled with all his might on the mighty door. Suddenly he was hit with a rush of cold air and a spot-light. In the coldness he could see his breath and despite the distraction had to try to think fast. He looked up into the Castle shielding his eyes from the light and there on the second shelf was the nectar! It was just within reach and as he brought it down he knew he had to hurry. Already he heard the guard-dogs advancing; the door must have sounded some alarm which was beyond his perception. The heavy contained had to be left on the counter because the leader guard dog was already here. He looked into the great Castle and saw an orange carrot-stick-sword of fore-sight in the bottom drawer. Grabbing it he pointing it at the guard-dog intending to defend himself to the death. But the great beast took one sniff at his weapon and snatched it from him. The Beast chomped on it and sat down hoping for another. The great Johnathan had subdued the beast. Grabbing several carrot-sticks-swords of foresight Johnathan shoved them in his pocket and proceeded to get the nectar pitcher out of the fridgid Castle. He scaled the rock-face with the aid of the now docile beast, which made a good stepping stool when he asked it to lye down. Giving the dog-beast a carrot every time it was good to him, Johnathan convinced the beast to remain loyal. With a glass of the lemon-aid for his dying family in hand he replaced the pitcher to its former place and began to close the door. Something tempting caught his eye and the golden chocolate-cookie-nuggets of poisonous death seemed to almost beckon him with their sweet smell and shiny shell-bowl of temptation. He knew it was a trap intended to bring any daring but dumb adventurer to his demise. "You won't get me this time Cold King! Ha ha!" He yelled and he shut the door of the castle.
Turning back to the treacherous road before him he knew he could not spare a drop, the cup he held was essentially the cup of life and his family needed every precious golden drop to survive. Carrot-sticks in pocket and Dog-beast in tow, he knew the road back would still be treacherous...
As Johnathan handed Aunt Bettie the glass of Lemonade he found himself glad he hadn't spilled any of it. She was Mama to him, the only person close enough to him to be called Mama and her hands were awful shaky anymore. He knew if he had spilled half of it, like he would have done if he weren't so careful, by the time it got to her mouth she would have spilled the other half. Johnathan smiled at her. Bettie, seeing carrots in his pocket and no chocolate on his hands told him to go have himself some chocolate for being so good.
The adventure continued as the wind chimes whistled and marked time as merely summer.
posted by Shannon Hollender @ 2:58 PM
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