A.R. Jung's Blog, page 5

Mythological Creature; Alseid, the nymph of the poet Homer’s glen and grove

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/yxtg424z

According to Wikipedia, in Greek mythology, Alseids (/ælˈsiːɪdz/; Ἀλσηΐδες) were the nymphs of the narrow valleys and the small wooded areas. Of the Classical writers, the first and perhaps only poet to reference alseids is Homer.

Homer, according to Encyclopedia Britannica, lived in the 9th or 8th century bce?, In Ionia? [now in Turkey]), presumed author of the Iliad and the Odyssey.

Although these two great epic poems of ancient Greece have always been attributed to the shadowy figure of Homer, little is known of him beyond the fact that his was the name attached in antiquity by the Greeks themselves to the poems. That there was an epic poet named Homer, and if the assumption is accepted, that he single-handedly wrote it, then Homer must assuredly be one of the greatest of the world’s literary artists.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y6qgxgub

Rather than alseid he used the spelling alsea. The three uses of alsea by Homer are as follows:

“The nymphs who live in the lovely groves (ἄλσεα – alsea), and the springs of rivers (πηγαὶ ποταμῶν – pegai potamon) and the grassy meadows (πίσεα ποιήεντα – pisea poiëenta).”

“They [nymphs] come from springs (krênai), they come from groves (alsea), they come from the sacred rivers (ποταμοί – potamoi) flowing seawards.”

“The nymphs [of Mount Ida] who haunt the pleasant woods (alsea), or of those who inhabit this lovely mountain (ὄρος – oros) and the springs of rivers (pegai potamon) and grassy meads (pisea).

In Pop Culture



[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/yxfguu3b

In the Pathfinder Role Playing Game– and according to Open Gaming Store, the alseid are the graceful woodland cousins to centaurs. Because they are rarely seen far from the wooded glades they call home, they are sometimes called “grove nymphs,” despite being more closely related to elves than nymphs.

Alseid see the forest as an individual and a friend. They are suspicious of outsiders who do not share this view. Lost travelers who demonstrate deep respect for the forest may spot a distant alseid’s white tail and chase after it as it bounces toward a road that leads out of the forest.

Disrespectful strangers may follow the same tail to their doom. Male alseid have antlers growing from their foreheads. These antlers grow very slowly, branching every 10 years for the first century of life. Further points only develop with the blessings of the forest. No 14-point imperial alseid are known to exist, but many tribes are governed by princes with 13 points. Because antlers signify status, alseid never use them in combat. Cutting an alseid’s antlers is one of the direct punishments an alseid can receive. Elf rangers have reported a lone alseid exile, wandering the forest, its antlers sawn off near the scalp.

Writing Prompt

So, using the alseid from the role playing game, YOU are the mythical creature. You meet a respectful stranger of the forest and you decide that they are worthy of your respect in return. You approach the person and find out that they are of royal blood. Over the course of several months, you fall in love with them and decide that in addition to the organic and honest nature of your relationship- that your new companion may be able to serve the forest in an important way. Climate change has altered the frequency and intensity of forest anomalies as of late. Wildfires, storms, insect outbreaks and the occurrence of invasive species have started to plague the area. You my be able to persuade your royal companion to sign a treaty, providing many benefits and services to the residents of the wood. Clean water and air, recreation, a safe wildlife habitat, carbon storage, climate regulation and forest products…to name a few. How do you persuade them?

If you find this fun and interesting and decide to expand on this story- let me know how this story continues in the comment section below, and as usual…happy writing!

Mythological Creature; Al Rakim- ‘Dog,’ of the seven miraculous sleepers of Ephesus

[image error]Photo Credit: Katie Chao – Theodosius II arrives at Ephesus

According to Britannica.com, the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus were the heroes of a famous legend. The legend affirmed the resurrection of the dead. This had a lasting influence in all of Christendom and in Islam during the Middle Ages. According to the story, during the persecution of Christians (250 ce) under the Roman emperor Decius, seven (eight in some versions) Christian soldiers were concealed near their native city of Ephesus in a cave to which the entry was later sealed. There was also a dog with them named Al Rakim found in the Islamic stories.

In the cave, having protected themselves from being forced to do pagan sacrifices, they fell into a miraculous sleep. During the reign of the Eastern Roman emperor Theodosius II, the cave was reopened, and the Sleepers awoke after 300 years.

The emperor was moved by their experience and by their witness to the Christian doctrine. Specifically the supposed proof of the resurrection. Having lived to explain the profound meaning of their experience, the Seven died, whereupon Theodosius ordered their remains to be richly enshrined. He then absolved all of the bishops who had been persecuted for believing in the Resurrection previously.

Mythological Creature, the German Alp Demon – Why are German Folk Tales so dark? Snapshot GRIMM – with a Harry Potter FAN-FICTION Writing Prompt

[image error]The Grimm Brothers – Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y5us2w44

According to Biography.com, despite the fact that Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm are often associated with Snow White and Rapunzel, the brothers didn’t actually write any of those stories. In fact, the stories existed long before the two men were born in Germany in the mid 1780s. The fairy tales, were part of a rich oral tradition − passed down from generation to generation, often by women seeking to pass the time during household chores. As industrialization took root, local traditions changed and scholars, like Jacob and Wilhelm, began a quest to save the stories from extinction. They interviewed relatives and friends, collecting whatever tales they could, sometimes embellishing them (although they insisted they did not). In 1812, Jacob and Wilhelm published the stories as part of a collection titled Nursery and Household Tales, or what is now referred to as Grimm’s Fairy Tales.

Jacob and Wilhelm faced deportation and bankruptcy.

In 1830, King Ernest Augustus demanded oaths of allegiance from all professors in Gottingen, a university city where Jacob and Wilhelm taught Germanic studies. The brothers refused to pledge to the king and, along with five other professors, the “Gottingen Seven” were made to leave the city. Jobless and branded as political dissidents, the brothers were forced to borrow money from friends as they worked on their story collection.

“Grimm’s Fairy Tales” was a publishing blockbuster. 

The Grimm’s collection of fairy tales was in its 7th edition when Wilhelm Grimm died in 1859. By that point, the collection had grown to 211 stories and included intricate illustrations. Jacob − who had lived with Wilhelm and his wife − died in 1863. According to biographers, Jacob was deeply distraught after the death of his brother, with whom he had held a close bond throughout his life. Some claim their collection has only been outsold by Shakespeare and the Bible.

[image error]The Alp, German vampire elf – Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y46g4qop

Why are German Folk tales so dark? According to denofgeek.com, look at what was happening in Germany at the time. We will continue to talk about the Grimm brothers here, because they are easily accessible, and well documented story tellers. Their work is a snapshot of their time and place, as well as all that preceded them through the oral tradition. Let’s be honest though, there is a definite cultural tone to the work.

It sounds like a kind of whimsical project, fairy tales, but actually the Grimms’ work was part of a wider political movement in Germany. The country was split into 200 principalities, and many people – including the Grimms’ law professor, Friedrich von Savigny – wanted to see them united as a single nation. To that end, many writers and thinkers were turning to traditional folk tales to explore (or maybe define) a kind of German national identity.

The theory was that these stories, passed down from one generation to the next, would contain the collective hopes, fears, and morals of the German people. The Grimms weren’t the only ones putting together collections of folklore, but it’s their work that became the best known.

-denofgeek.com

German folklore, according to Wikipedia, is folk tradition which has developed in Germany over a number of centuries. It shares many characteristics with Scandinavian folklore and English folklore due to their origins in a common Germanic mythology. It reflects a similar mix of influences: a pre-Christian pantheon and other beings equivalent to those of Norse mythology; magical characters (sometimes recognizably pre-Christian) associated with Christian festivals, and various regional ‘character’ stories

Continental Germanic mythology is a subtype of Germanic paganism as practiced in parts of Central Europe during the 6th to 8th centuries, a period of Christianization. It continued in the legends, and Middle High German epics of the Middle Ages. Traces of these stories, with the sacred elements largely removed, may be found throughout European folklore and fairy tales.

[image error]“Nachtmahr” (“Night-mare”), by Johann Heinrich Füssli (1802), Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/yxq54gd9

An Alp (plural Alpe or Alpen) is a supernatural being in German folklore.

Not to be confused with the similarly named Alp-luachra, the Alp is sometimes likened to a vampire, but its behavior is more akin to that of the incubus. It is distinct from both of these creatures in that it wears a magic hat called a Tarnkappe, from which it draws its powers. The word Alp is the German form of the word that comes into English as elf, both descended from Common Germanic. It is also known by the following names: trud, mar, mart, mahr, schrat, and walrider. Many variations of the creature exist in surrounding European areas, such as the Druden and Schratteli, or Old Hag in English-speaking countries.

Writing Prompt – THE HAT



[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y457cfvv

The Alp wears a magical hat called the Tarnkappe- let’s… for the purpose of sparking our imaginations…. make this the back story of the SORTING HAT from Harry Potter.

The Alp is sometimes likened to a vampire, and is malevolent, so the calibration for SLITHERIN comes easily for this hat. What must the hat have seen?

How does the hat have the range of feeling necessary to calibrate and sort ALL of Hogwart’s houses? Especially the benevolent ones?

How did the Alp lose the hat? How did it end up at Hogwarts? Fan fiction this one out guys. There are so many places to go with it.

If you find this fun and interesting and decide to expand on this story- let me know how this story continues in the comment section below, and as usual…happy writing!

Mythological Creature; The “Alom-bag-winno-sis,” a Northeastern Native American dwarf & writing prompt

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y6bhqfas

The Alom-bag-winno-sis or “The Alom,” which I shortened as a kind of nickname- are dwarfish cryptids from the folklore of the Abenaki native people. The Abenaki, according to Wikipedia are indigenous of the Americas– located in the northeastern United States as well as Eastern Canada.

The mythologies of the tribe, are comprised of many traditional narratives, from a mytho-graphical perspective. Traditional narratives are usually religious in nature. The religious ceremonies are led by medicine keepers, called Medeoulin, Mdawinno, or Midewiwin (which would be an amazing starting point for researching this topic for deeper character development...because these medicine men form a secretive society called the Grand Medicine society. Who doesn’t love a secret society?)

The Abenaki spiritual and religious stories are deeply, deeply rooted in nature and are rich with the symbolism of the seasons, weather, plants, animals, earth, water, sky and fire. The nature rich folklore naturally mirrors the beliefs of the people.

[image error]Photo Credit: Native Hollywood actors speak Abenaki for Saints and Strangers (2015) https://tinyurl.com/yxnmk556

The principle of an all embracing, universal and omniscient Great Spirit, a connection to the Earth, diverse creation narratives and collective memories of ancient ancestors are common and show up in the stories of the region, but who are these Alom-bag-winno-sis, (or the Alom-begwi-no-sis?) in these stories?

The Alom are a mischievous, small race of men who overturn canoes and can increase or decrease body size at will. They also own a pot which can transform a few kernels of maize into a huge quantity. Seeing one supposedly foretells death by drowning.

Belief Periods and changing Myths of the Abenaki people



[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y3j9r9th

The history of the Abenaki is divided into three time periods. In the first, the Ancient Age, humanity and animal-life are undifferentiated.

In the second, the Golden Age, humans are still animals, but quantitatively different.

In the third, the Present Age, animals and humanity are totally differentiated. For Mythological creatures and cryptids, as well as character development ideas from the Ancient Age, the Golden Age and the Present Age, please click here.

“Alom,” Writing Prompt



[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y6bhqfas

Since the Alom are mischievous creatures and essentially bad omens to encounter, I have decided to have a little fun with this prompt. Let’s say you are walking through the woods in Vermont. It’s a gorgeous sunny day, picture perfect really. You stop with someone you love to have a picnic. You lay down a checkered picnic blanket and set the picnic basket on top. The wine glasses come out and you toast to the new job you just landed.

“Things are going to get a lot better, now.” You say, kissing your partner. Then you see him. Over in the clearing to the right of you, there is a small person dressed to the nines in Native American gear. He’s carrying a tomahawk, and you think that you are looking at a child, but upon further inspection, and only by looking into his eyes, can you tell that this person is of significant age. The eyes are too knowing, to be a child’s eyes.

Locking eyes, you nudge your partner and say;

“Hey, look. There is a person over in that clearing.” The person you are with, doesn’t see the Alom, however because this is your bad omen. When you look back into the clearing, you are both perplexed as to what has happened to the person. The only clue that the person you had witnessed was supernatural, was the fact that they seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

You go about your day.

Later there is an incident in the bathtub. What happens, but more importantly, why does it happen. We don’t know a lot about the motivations of the “Alom,” this is a chance for you to tell us your interpretation of him or her. Why is he so mischievous and why do people end up dead after seeing her?

If you find this fun and interesting and decide to expand on this story- let me know how this story continues in the comment section below, and as usual…happy writing

Hemingway’s Fate- a Monkey’s Paw retelling

by W.W. Jacobs and A.R. Jung



[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/yx9dzvuc

The Monkey’s Paw is a classic “three wishes” story, which doubles as a horror story and cautionary tale. It reminds us that fate rules people’s lives, and that those who interfere with her, do so at their own risk. This widely read story is a favorite in classrooms around the world. The story was first published in 1902 and then featured in The Lady of the Barge (1911.) American Literature.com created The Monkey’s Paw Study Guide to benefit students and teachers. Please also enjoy their collection of Halloween Stories…Now for my #Folkpunk “Monkey’s Paw” retelling.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y4nsy6g3



Part 1

“Be careful what you wish for, you may just receive it and ALL the karma that precedes it. Don’t be so shallow and predictable…karma will outsmart you every time.”- Placido Stanford, Hemingway’s Fate

[image error]John Abernathy- Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/yys4fdb9[image error]Samantha Abernathy in the Kitchen- Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/yyjemp2u

A storm was coming.

In the farmhouse chic, kitchen of John and Samantha Abernathy – father and son were discussing soccer. John played semi-pro as a young man, and had ideas about how the game should be influencing Greyson’s every thought and whim. This was met with nothing but disdain from both his son and his beautiful blonde wife, who stood, arranging dried flowers at the wooden island in the center of the gourmet kitchen. She felt she was the axis on which their world revolved and was getting a bit tired of being taken for granted.

“Get ready for practice,” said John.

[image error]Greyson Abernathy- Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/yyrurzoz

“It’s Saturday,” said Greyson. “I have too much to do, to waste time running around the soccer field- with those jerks….they bully me Dad, well it’s mostly Jack. Last week they pushed me down and Jack bit my leg so hard…I thought I was going to need stitches. He’s literally crazy. I looked up flesh eating demons, and he’s like a flesh eating Pishacha demon.”

“Oh, come on, when I was your age, it was all I could think about. Soccer and girls, and all you seem to care about are computers, books and your mother here. What am I going to do with you? It’s 3:00 pm…we are leaving in two hours for practice.” Mr. Abernathy ruffled Greyson’s hair and picked up an apple and his smoothie. “I’ll pick you up after the gym, ok, I don’t want to hear that you weren’t hustling today at practice. You’re twelve years old Greyson, let’s show a little maturity, for God’s sake.”

“Did you even hear me say that Jack is bullying me?” repeated Greyson, but his father was watching the news.

“Noooooo! My biggest competitor, Stanford Design & Controls, just got a multibillion dollar deal! We were second in line for that contract. Man, we were so close.”

“It’s ok, dear,” said his wife, “you’ll get the next one.”

Mr. Abernathy looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he refocused his attention on the footsteps coming up to the door.

“There he is,” said John, rubbing his hands together. “A blast from the past.” He watched the man walk up, using the app on his phone. Then the doorbell rang.

John rose with hospitable quickness and opening the door, was heard chatting with the new arrival.

[image error]Alex Liu Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y4cs7ncr

“Dr. Alex Liu, in the flesh.” Mr. Abernathy said, introducing him, as they walked back into the kitchen. The family shook hands with the doctor and then the old friends embraced.

“He was my best friend in High School. Alex is retiring from the Navy next month, at just 39 years old and was just stopping home to visit his mom. You married yet Alex?” John said, chiding his friend. He elbowed him in the ribs for old times sake.

“I’m working on it, man… “K” and I are getting married in a few weeks…um, you did pretty well for yourself here, John,” Alex said looking around at John’s home and his beautiful family. John had been class president and Alex had been Homecoming king. They both liked the same girls and ran with the same crowd twenty years ago.

“Aww, thank you, Alex…but I’m not a high profile Doctor, like you are….you were always better at everything Alex.” John said.

“Yes, that’s true…but not on the soccer field! Nobody was faster than your old man.” Alex said to Greyson who was too polite to roll his eyes at their guest. Alex rustled Greyson’s hair and the boy recoiled at his touch.

“…So do you have the Rabbit’s foot- thingy… isn’t that what you said you picked up for me in Cuba?”

“I’m flying out to meet my fiancé tomorrow for a much needed cruise to Jamaica , but wanted to make sure I swung by to meet you all since I’m rarely back here in town.” said the doctor hastily, and “…yes, to give you the gift, too.”

“A cruise, Alex…wow…this must be a new relationship?” John asked.

“Fairly new…yes. But we are in love.” Alex confided, looking uncomfortable.

“Tell me about your fiancé…this “K.” John pressed. “Is it anyone I might know?”

“…A rabbit’s paw?” said Samantha, dismissing her husband’s rude question.

“Well, it’s just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps.” said Alex, thankful that Samantha was steering the conversation away from his fiancé.

His three listeners leaned forward eagerly at the mention of magic. Alex absent-mindedly looked at the television…stalling. He was seemingly unsure of what he wanted to do next. Which John knew was completely unlike him.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y5pwrgcs

“I heard Stanford Design and Controls got the bid a little while ago…isn’t that your line of work John?”

“Yes, it is. I know we would have had that bid too if it wasn’t for Placido. He is a shark….Placido Stanford- He mentored me at the beginning of my career. His British accent is really what sets him apart in digital infrastructure design and controls, I think. He just sounds incredibly interesting.”

“Ahh, better luck next time, man…always a dollar short…right John? Anyways, I have something that might help you…the foot….now, to look at it,” said Alex, fumbling in his pocket, “it’s just an ordinary little foot, all dried up.” He took it out and rolled it in his hands. Samantha drew back with a soft grimace, but Greyson, took it quickly, and examined it curiously.

“And what is so special about it?” Inquired John as he took it from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the wooden island, more curious about Alex’s intentions than the object itself.

[image error] Hemingway – Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/yxrv2wab

“It used to be Ernest Hemingway’s lucky rabbit foot. He talks about it a bit in A Moveable Feast.“

….For luck you carried a horse chestnut and a rabbit’s foot in your right pocket. The fur had been worn off the rabbit’s foot long ago and the bones and the sinews were polished by the wear. The claws scratched in the lining of your pocket and you knew your luck was still there.”

-Ernest Hemingway

“AhHA, it’s right here on page 159.” Said Greyson, pulling the book off the shelf and flipping to find the very passage. His father looked at him as though he were looking at a stranger.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y464hzt3

“You have read the book, Greyson? You read Hemingway?” John asked.

“…Greyson reads lots of books, John. He is quite a reader and writer. He has been working on a novel for a few years and hopes to have it published one day.” Samantha Abernathy said to both of the men.

“It’s called CyberMyths, Urban Legend-y coding stuff for coders, but more literary.” Greyson said.

“I don’t get it….” John said.

[image error]The Abernathy’s Street – https://tinyurl.com/y2meztn5

“Well, that’s great. Keep it up Greyson. The world needs more artists and creatives working their magic. Especially during the Crypto-Renaissance…” Alex looked out the window and saw that it was raining.

“Yeah, speaking of magic…I want to get a look at Hemingway’s Rabbit foot, and why are you giving it to us again?”

“…Yes, ok…so, it is thought that a Cuban Witch put a spell on it,” said the doctor, “a very unholy witch. She wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and that those who interfered with it did so at their own risk….kinda like you did to me, John way back when.” Alex stopped and watched John’s reaction.

“Huh, wait…I knew you didn’t get me a gift….what are we talking about, here?” John said. Alex’s comment sucked the civility out of the room. Samantha went back to working, but kept a watchful eye.

“Anyways….the witch put a spell on the foot so that, three- separate- people or groups of people could- each have three wishes from it.” Alex looked at Greyson.

“Do you think that Hemingway was victim to this Rabbit’s Foot…? Do you think this had something to do with his suicide?” Greyson asked the doctor holding the foot up to the light.

“Well, how could anyone know for sure?” Alex Liu said, “But it makes sense to me.”

“Wow, he used an Aber-crombie gun…kinda like Aber-nathy, our last name.” Greyson said, constantly playing with words in his mind. John shook his head in disgust. His son was so weird.

“Wait, why don’t you take the three wishes, Alex?” said John Abernathy cleverly.

Alex regarded him the way a wise man regards a presumptuous kid. “I have,” he said quietly, and his blotchy face reddened.

“And so…tell us…did you really have the three wishes granted?” asked Samantha, still working.

“Yes,” said the doctor.

“And who else is involved here…who else got their wishes?” persisted Mrs. Abernathy.

“The first man had his three wishes, which apparently was Hemingway himself,” was Alex’s reply, “I don’t know what the first two wishes were, but the third was for death. He died in Iowa with the Abercrombie, like Greyson mentioned.” Alex looked at the boy who was looking upon him with wide eyed wonder. This appealed to Alex. He went on.

“The witch had possession of the foot for ninety years or so and then I went to see her to stop smoking since I was stationed nearby and that’s how I ended up with it. She must not have liked the way I looked or something, to resurrect that thing.”

His tone was so grave that a hush fell upon the group.

“So, I haven’t seen you for twenty years and you brought me the last three wishes,” said John, eyeing him suspiciously, I know you don’t like me that much…” why wouldn’t you try to sell it? If it were really Hemingway’s Rabbit foot, it would be priceless.

“You are always thinking about money first, Dad.” Greyson said.

“I don’t want anyone to have it but you,” said Alex.

[image error]Keisha Liu – Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y5wjckst

“Huh? It’s evil and you want me to have it? …..What is this about?….Wait, this is about Keisha isn’t it? You still haven’t let that go…” John said, motioning Alex towards the door. Dr. Liu followed, but left the Rabbit’s foot on the kitchen island as planned.

Greyson and Samantha looked at each other, both confused.

“I’ll take that!” Greyson said excitedly.

Greyson saw an opportunity and took the foot, dangling it between his forefinger and thumb, and stuffed it into his pocket. He ran upstairs to get ready for soccer practice. He had a great idea. His father was too predictable for his own good.

Samantha shrugged and turned back to the chilled cake she was finishing for her online cake decorating class and pushed whomever Keisha was and the tension that had been brewing between the two men- out of her mind. It wasn’t the first time she had heard her husband talking to or about other women. She had just about had it with him. She finished the cake, closing the last pink buttercream rose and listened to her husband yelling at the top of his lungs outside in the pouring rain….

“Better to let bygones be bygones,” John said to Alex. “No matter what you actually think of me Doc-tor, I really am sorry for taking Keisha from you…twenty some years ago. I didn’t even end up with her. None of us did. I heard she is marrying some doctor. It was great to see you, even if you hate me, and can never forgive me.”

“Wait…you’ve been in contact with her, recently?” Alex said.

“Yes, I’ve talked to her once or twice on social media, what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is, that she didn’t tell me she talked to you.” Alex screamed.

“What are you talking about Alex, you seriously still have a thing for her?” John said.

“I’m in love with her…I’m the Doctor she’s marrying – you IDIOT!” Alex screamed…and then he whispered just loud enough for John to hear, “You may have always been more athletic than me…but, I’ve always been able to outsmart you, I know you better than you know yourself. ” Then he got into his car and drove away.

He used the Rabbit’s Foot on Keisha. John thought. Keisha recently told me she was gay. He knew Alex was setting him up…beyond a shadow of a doubt, now…but why?

Part 2

Greyson hid the Rabbit’s Foot…and took it from his pocket on the way to soccer practice with his dad driving. He eyed it dubiously. “I don’t know what to wish for, and that’s a fact,” he said slowly. I’ve got everything I want in life….but, I wish to stop being bullied.“

“Shhhh…ohhh no Greyson, I was looking for that everywhere…Alex left that thing for me and if I know Alex, he is trying to pull one over on me. You just said you wanted to stop being bullied? Are you only being bullied at soccer?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, hand over the Rabbit’s Foot and I’ll turn this car, right around and take you home and you don’t have to go to soccer anymore. How’s that pal?”

“OK deal.” Greyson said, trying not to let on that he had set his Dad up for this. He looked at his phone so that he didn’t make eye contact with John.

Greyson handed the talisman to his Dad in the front seat and his Dad eyed him from the rearview mirror, realizing what had just happened. How did he grow up so fast? John asked himself.

When the two got back to the house, Samantha asked if everything was ok?…and Greyson put his soccer bag on the wooden island.

“Dad said I didn’t have to play soccer anymore.” and kept walking towards the steps.

“Ahhh, your plan worked.”

“Yep,” he said, running up the stairs. Samantha shook her head. She chopped quickly through the green onions to put atop the vegetarian General Tso’s she was plating.

“Dinner is ready!”

John had skipped the gym, but he didn’t care. He was in the bathroom and had locked the door. He took out the Rabbit’s Foot and looked at himself in the mirror. He smoothed his eye brows and looked at his chiseled jaw bone.

“You can do this.” He said to himself. “I wish to have the contract that Stanford Design and Controls got, the one I saw on the news earlier. It’s a government contract and is worth billions for a new digital infrastructure and when the smoke clears from that…the three of us can go live in Bali or Switzerland or the Galapagos…anywhere we want. Everyone thinks I am so selfish and an idiot. I’ll show them. They think they don’t need me. They taunt me and have their private jokes. I will make it so they CAN’T afford to live without me.”

…And he told them all as much at dinner, without saying what he had wished for exactly.

“Well, I don’t see the money,” said Greyson, as he picked up the foot and placed it on the table, next to the cauliflower rice. “…and I bet we never will.”

“Get that filthy thing off the table honey. Really?” Samantha said.

“Sorry, mom.”

Just then a BREAKING NEWS story came across the TV which was running in the background.

PLACIDO STANFORD OF STANFORD DESIGN & CONTROLS….AND HIS FAMILY…FATAL CAR CRASH AND THE STATE OF THE GOVERNMENT CONTRACTS FOR THE NEW DIGITAL INFASTRUCTURE HANGS IN THE BALANCE…..PLACIDO WAS IN A MIDSIZED SUV AS WERE HIS WIFE CELIA, HIS SON JACK AND THEIR FAMILY DOG, JASPER….NO ONE ELSE WAS HURT IN THE CRASH…

“Jack Stanford was….killed?” Greyson swallowed his General Tso’s roughly and sank back in his chair.

“What’s wrong Greyson,” John asked.

“That’s the kid who bullied me…he was horrible to me. The kid was a mental case. He humiliated me every chance that he got, beat me up…and loved every minute of it…but, I didn’t want him to be killed.” Greyson ran to his mother who shot a look over at John. She mouthed...was this you?

“Oh my God…..Oh my God.” John said. “Greyson wished to stop being bullied in the car and I wished for the Digital Infrastructure contract I told you guys about earlier. I didn’t know that Jack Stanford was the one bullying you and I definitely didn’t know that they were going to be killed or that Placido had a wife or a son. Jesus….I didn’t ask for any of this. I knew Placido really well. He was a really, really good guy. Someone I looked up to, oh my God!”

John, Greyson and Samantha all sat in horror as the Rabbit Foot, started moving and writhing like a snake on the table- having done what it was asked to do.

“AHHHHHHHH!” Greyson saw the foot squirming and screamed, running as fast as he could up to his room and he slammed the door.

“Oh my goodness. What are we going to do, John?” Samantha said, taking her husbands hands in hers. “Let me help you. My father has good lawyers, maybe he can help us somehow.”

“I don’t know…” John yanked his hands away from his wife, harshly. “I need to think. I don’t need you smothering me.”

“Fine, do this by yourself, like you do everything else.” Samantha said slumping into her chair. She felt so alone and scared. She honestly didn’t want him or that thing in the house. For the very first time in their 14 years of marriage, she knew that she was going to leave him. I guess it just took him killing an entire family for me to decide to kick him out. Jesus.

“I don’t know why your so called friend gave you this foot. Maybe it has something to do with that woman you were arguing about, but your messy life is messing up our lives too. I need you out of here while you decide what you are going to do, John. My job is to protect Greyson and I need you to get out.”

“But, honey…Jesus Christ, I did this for us…you both need me…come on…you need me. Remember?” It was pathetic.

“Get. Out.” Samantha didn’t even raise her voice. Which is how John knew she was serious.

He left.

Part 3

Six months passed while John’s bank account grew and grew. He had more money than he even knew what to do with, but his life was falling apart around him. He barely ate. Samantha had filed for divorce, and didn’t want one penny of his blood money. She had skills and got a job easily. John agreed to the divorce reluctantly. At night he would sit in his car outside of the house, watching. Greyson would look out sometimes, but never came out.

As if losing your family weren’t enough. He was being haunted. Because of the magic, of course, he was never implicated in the deaths of Placido Stanford and his family. The ghosts of the Stanford family stalked him in his sleep and in his waking hours too.

Sometimes it wasn’t so bad. Placido Stanford, a natural teacher, would talk to John and tell him what he could do to get back with Samantha. Sometimes the Stanford family however, to punish him, replayed their feelings and emotions the moments just before their deaths for John to experience and he would scream for them to leave him alone.

A boy in a robo-suit walked past John’s car with a dog on a leash in earliest June. John had his car window rolled down.

“Hello.” John said to the boy. The little boy’s head…spun around backwards and gruesomely revealed a decayed corpse’s face…letting out a guttural growl…and pointing a bony finger at John, he said…

“You killed my family for something as empty as money…it’s paper…..you will pay for this…I am really digging your empty chasm you call a soul, and so I promise not to eat the meat from your bones, not yet.” Jack used some unfortunate victim’s bone fragment as a toothpick. “You have two wishes left. You’d better use them wisely…or you’re mine. I got to your boy while I was living but there will be nothing stopping me from eating your spindly muscles while you simultaneously count your cash. You won’t be safe when you meet us here in the dark.”

“What did you do to my son? Jesus, you freak!” John said.

And then Jack was gone. John took out his vape pen. He had started smoking tobacco while his life crumbled down around him. Something his health conscious ex-wife would have poo pooed. His hands were shaking. Nothing would ever erase the memory of that boys head turning around backwards. Then suddenly, there was someone sitting next to him in his passenger seat.

“You’re losing it buddy.” Placido Stanford said. “Was all of this worth the money?”

“….Yes…..No…I don’t know….Why is this happening? We were happy I thought. We were happy weren’t we?”

“Your wife and son didn’t really know you or allow you into their lives. You weren’t part of their minutia, their days, their weeks. John, you cared more about yourself and what you looked like, and keeping up with old girlfriends, stroking your ego… than you did that your son was being severely beaten and bullied.” Placido said.

“Yeah, by your son! He is disturbed by the way. He just threatened to eat the meat from my bones.” John said to the ghost.

“We had our own problems in the house, Celia and I were both always working. Jack knows what he did to Greyson was wrong.”

“He was probably going to end up being a serial killer….I did you a favor…” John said.

“Jack is just messing with you John, get a grip…” Placido said…but both could hear Jack cackling off in the distance. A ghoulish, chilling cackle…not of this place. “Jack is enjoying the Astral plane…there are lots of other jokesters and mischievous poltergeist here. We can’t move on to a better place and rest until you do something for me.”

“What can I do for you? Haven’t I done enough?” John said.

“Well, I’m not sure if I can ever truly forgive you, but my mother needs her rent paid in full so that she can continue being cared for at her assisted living facility. She has Alzheimer’s and will be put out in a few days if her rent isn’t paid.”

“That will put your souls to rest?” John asked.

“We will leave you alone. Pay for ten years in full. I know you have the money. You owe this to me and my family.” Placido said.

“Fine.” John looked at his house. The roof was going to need fixing soon.

“Your son, Greyson has a place in this world as a coder. He is smart. Jack was jealous of Greyson’s smarts, and the love from his mother, Samantha. Greyson had a sense of belonging. Children used to have a place in our culture…remember that? …But now the demands of our digital world present a problem for both parents and children. Where does everyone belong? It’s not exactly a feeling place. Greyson was able to carve out a place for himself here and thrive. You don’t even know how lucky you are…..do you?

“…But your son Jack was an athlete, Placido….Greyson isn’t even good at sports….” John said.

“Well maybe we should have been blessed with different sons…You are missing the point, so, so sadly. You have unresolved issues John….Who is Keisha, by the way, I’m just dying to know?” Placido asked.

“Only the love of my life…other than my wife.” John said, looking again at the home he was no longer welcomed in. “Keisha was so warm and funny. She was kind and generous and made me feel like a man. She included me in everything she did. I miss her. That’s why I looked her up before. She was my best friend…other than Alex, of course. I persuaded her to leave Alex to be with me. She was willing to, it wasn’t like I begged her.”

“Um, you have a real problem on your hands, you know. You really need to think about getting involved with her again. I mean it. Does she still have feelings for you too? Don’t forget to pay my mother’s rent, John.” Placido said.

“I think so….I…I….Placido….Placido?” He was gone.

I’m losing my mind…I have one wish left, since Greyson took the first one… maybe I could convince Keisha to leave Alex again. Yeah….that’s what Placido was probably getting at. Keisha and I were meant to be together. That’s why all of this is happening. She was willing to be with me before…I love her. Being gay shouldn’t matter here, I mean we’ve been together. It was always great. I love her more than anyone I’ve ever loved before. I deserve to be happy. My family is happier without me. I’ll just leave them be and go find my own happiness.

“I wish for Keisha to be in my life again….and to be my wife.” John said to himself in the rearview mirror, clearly unaware that he was headed down a path of no return.

Alex picked up his cell phone and looked at his house one last time. Goodbye Greyson, John thought as he drove away. My boy. If nothing else…I’m teaching you to look out for yourself…because NO one else will do that for you. That’s a good thing to teach your child…right? John heard Jack Stanford’s ghoulish laugh off in the distance somewhere. John drove to the assisted living to pay Placido’s mothers rent.

The Rabbit’s Foot squirmed on the passenger seat where Placido had been sitting, which made Johns skin crawl but he pushed forward.

“Yeah….hello Keisha….”

Part 4

Keisha and John were married in a private ceremony on August 18th. It was a lovely intimate affair, with lavish details and a romantic honeymoon planned in Italy. It was somewhere Keisha had always wanted to go. She told him she wanted to ride in a gondola when she was just a teenager in high school and John remembered it and surprised her. He was a bit disappointed that the Rabbit’s Foot seemed to cause Keisha to act as though she were in a constant drug induced state, zombie like. It didn’t feel like it was really Keisha in there. Still John pushed forward. He used his last wish on her and wasn’t about to back out of it all now.

Greyson refused to attend the wedding, but John put it out of his mind. He was going to be happy and that’s very important to being a good parent. Being happy = good parenting, he told himself whenever doubt crept in.

Alex came to the ceremony though.

“I wouldn’t have missed it, man.” Alex said.

“So, no hard feelings?” John asked.

“Nah, man, she’s yours. We were starting to have problems anyways. I hope you make her happy.”

With Keisha on Johns arm he said,”We plan to be very happy.” Then he kissed her deeply. Alex’s blood boiled and threatened to boil over. Keisha looked at him out of the corner of her eye from the passionate kiss.

Was Keisha aware of what was going on? Shelley didn’t think so. Keisha was acting like she was in a trance.

[image error]Shelley – Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y6g6nrzh

Poor Keisha was a pawn to both John and Alex’s narcissistic plotting. She was an object to them, and nothing more.

Shelley knew that Keisha went along with it only because she was under the spell of the Rabbit’s foot. Keisha actually loved Shelley. She had been a lesbian for over a decade now and Shelley sat at the wedding for John and Keisha and cried. What a nightmare for both of them.

Shelley left all alone, deciding that she would wait for Keisha. She knew the love that they had for each other, even if she didn’t quite understand what Keisha was up to. She trusted her. They had been together for ten years. There was no way that Keisha would just throw her away like she was a piece of trash. Keisha acted like she didn’t know who Shelley was when she went up to talk to her after the wedding ceremony.

“Let me know when you want to come back home. I will always wait for you, no matter what.” Shelley said.

“Ok. Thank you. Do I know you? Are you related to John? Did I meet you last night at the rehearsal dinner?” Keisha said to Shelley with a glazed look in her eye.

“She’s possessed.” Shelley told her mom later that night on the phone.”First she left and divorced me for Alex and then divorced him and married John. It doesn’t make any sense to me. I’m really worried. I’ve heard that there is dark magic…old magic afoot- from my psychic.”

“What did you find out about that?” Shelley’s mom asked.

“This whole thing has got to do with an old foot, an animal foot. When I was able to text with Keisha she kept typing…”foot, the foot, the animal foot.” I looked up old spells having to do with animal feet and found a story about a Monkeys paw and it talked about three wishes. So I put a bot on Alex’s phone. I found out that this foot is actually a Rabbit’s Foot and was possibly Hemingway’s.”

“Well, that’s interesting. I wonder if he had three wishes?” Shelley’s mom pondered aloud.

“The psychic said there is a lot of money involved. Alex was talking with somebody the other day about Stanford Design and Controls- so I followed them down that rabbit hole. Turns out Keisha’s new husband John, just won that contract, a few months ago, but not without first, picking off the Stanford’s. The way I figure it…Alex has two wishes left, and John may or may not have any…but I’m worried most about what Alex is planning to do.”

“What can you do, honey? I mean, short of breaking in and stealing the thing, to stop Alex or John from inflicting any more harm to Keisha.”

“Well, I have a plan. I’m not a cop and part of the Benevolent Coding Corps for nothing. I can take over John and Alex’s security cameras. I can look with a proxy all through both men’s phones and Keisha’s too and figure out their next moves. I WILL get Keisha back…but will my darling girl ever be the same? You tell me mom, you know this isn’t like your daughter in law. Her behavior, I mean.”

“Honey, love is strange, but no she is acting as though her mind, body and soul have been taken over and are being manipulated by a third party. This isn’t Keisha. Do you still want her, even if she isn’t fully herself?”

“YES, mom….she’s my wife. I feel scared like I used to when Daddy was alive and we would get hacked for the intelligence information he stored on our server. We knew Daddy would eventually stop the hackers because he was that good, but this kind of magical hack, this voodoo? I mean Keisha’s living a half life. Maybe I can hack the magic. If I can get a good look at the foot maybe I can take Alex’s last wishes.”

“Will that work, you don’t need to be physically there to wish on the foot?” Shelley’s mom asked?

“Well it’s worth a try. I didn’t find anywhere on the internet that an animal foot spell was exclusive to the original recipient. There are simply three wishes per cohort or group….Mom, if you haven’t heard from me in a few days…come and find me. I’ll put a locator on my phone and my watch. Stay vigilant. I’m going to go get my girl.”

Part 5

Shelley studied the patterns and schedules of all three of them from her surveillance van. She was still working full time and thankfully was skilled enough to be able to run all of the programs and stay on top of what was going on with work and with getting back Keisha. It was a Wednesday, about a month after John and his new wife had come home from their honeymoon. Alex showed up at the door of their downtown condo. Shelley was watching. She was pretty sure that the Rabbit’s foot would come out into full view since they were all together today and she might be able to snatch just one wish. It was all she needed.

“What are you doing here, Alex?” John said with just a towel around his waist. He had started working from home after the wedding. Keisha didn’t do much but stare out the window at the bay, which broke Shelley’s heart. Keisha was a fighter. She would make it through this.

“I came to get my final wishes granted, can I have the Rabbit’s Foot?” Alex said.

“You still have wishes? I used all of mine up.” John said, digging the foot out of the kitchen junk drawer.

“Yeah, I know you used your wishes, John. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist getting the digital infrastructure bid, which would effectively make you a millionaire over time. Then, I knew you would go for Keisha. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself. Either because I had her or because you still loved her. Now, I wish for John to die and leave his fortune to his dear old wife, Keisha.“

“Oh no!” Shelley said, watching John fall over, clutching his chest. Alex moved to the side slightly to clear the way for his friend of twenty years to fall over dead.

“Keisha….Keisha, my love…where are you?” Alex called.

“He’s going to remarry her for the money, that bastard.” Shelley said. She could see the Rabbit’s Foot clearly in Alex’s hand, so she took her “shot.”“I wish for Keisha to be restored to perfect health.”

Just then Keisha came to…and she must have had some idea of what was going on because she started to run…she threw expensive Chinese vases down in front of Alex as she retreated. Keisha was always an amazing, top notch athlete and she sprinted out of the condo and crossed the street to the entrance of the mall. Alex could barely keep up, and was in great shape himself.

“Yes, I am calling to request back up inside of the Riverbird shopping mall. The perp is in hot pursuit…both are on foot.” Shelley ran out of the surveillance van parked two blocks away and prayed that Alex was apprehended before he could physically hurt her wife. He was out of wishes, which he probably wasn’t aware of, but seemed extremely quick to anger and physically violent. Shelley ran as fast as she had ever run before and came upon the scene just in time to watch Keisha pushing Alex into a display case at Cartier. Glass and expensive jewelry flew everywhere.

“That’s him! That’s the perp….” Shelley screamed to an officer who was now on the same floor and was running full force towards Alex. The giant cop was on Alex and pinning him to the wall as Shelley kept screaming for Keisha to stop and had almost caught up with her. They hadn’t seen each other for nine months, since Keisha disappeared from their bedroom in the middle of the night against her will. She turned around and they embraced and fell to the ground. Shelley was as scared as Keisha was and they held each other there for what seemed like an eternity.

“You’re safe, it’s all over.” Shelley said over and over.

“I’m so sorry Shelley.” Keisha said.

“Why sweetheart? You didn’t do anything wrong.” Shelley said comfortingly.

“We are rich now, more rich than we can even imagine…we are richer than God. I knew you would come for me. We need to get married again.” Keisha said.

“It was you? You were the mastermind behind all of this?” Shelley asked.

“Let’s go home.” Keisha took Shelley by the hand and glanced back at Alex who was being escorted out of the mall in handcuffs. Shelley was speechless. She put one foot in front of the other until she found herself at home with the love of her life….unsure of what to do, now that she knew she was living with a monster. The Rabbit’s Foot was taken from Alex and was submitted into evidence…for the next ninety years or so when it would be back on the streets, tempting fate and destroying people’s lives.

If you like this Folkpunk story, please check out my Folkpunk Velveteen Rabbit Retelling -The Girl Behind the Magic… and as always happy writing!

The Wolpertinger Code- a feel good Easter story about the magic of Easter- (29 pgs.)

The snow stretched on for ages, but it didn’t matter in that moment because there was death on the horizon and death is worse than the blistering cold. If you are ever chilled to the bone, be still of mind, be grateful, because you know that you are still alive…you are able to feel. This is a blessing…this is from the Wolpertinger Code.”

-the Wolpertinger Code

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/8hrvjvg

My name is Herman and I am the eldest son of the chosen one. Our kingdom, Kriegerlager means warrior camp. We have a system similar to the Spartans, to name a society you are familiar with, but we live under the vows of discipline, organization and positive thinking. It’s an extremely strict but loving environment. The chosen one, my father, unfortunately didn’t meet the highest standards of the elders of Kriegerlager and acted more like a leaf blowing in the wind then he did a self-aware, self-disciplined Kriegerlager soldier, but sometimes genius comes in unexpected packaging.

[image error]Portal Door to Pennsylvania- Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/yybfpo8t

 My father found the portal door deep in the Alpine Forest of Bavaria. It sat at the base of the oldest towering tree. The year was 1895 and it was bitterly cold because in the Alpine forest, high in the mountains, the snow never melts. He was at the tippy top, walking amongst some of the oldest snowflakes, and the oldest hills…can you imagine living in our mountains? It’s like living in a primordial snow globe. Ancient and pure, a time capsule full of the highest vibrational frequencies.

“The door is beautiful.” The chosen one said aloud to the hills. It echoed and then, silence. A snowflake landed on the tip of his nose. He crinkled his nose, crossing his eyes to get a better look at the snowflake. Falling forward, he rolled into a somersault, and after, he shook his head to refocus.

He wanted to wake up Horst to show him, as he had been asleep in his pocket for hours, but that seemed cruel. Horst was finally resting after a most traumatic morning. The chosen one loved Horst.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y379r2fz

Horst had watched the child’s father, the king fall to the ground after drinking a warm cup of tea by the fire in the wee hours of the morning. His majesty fell from his chair and the queen who was deaf, was unaware of any problem. Horst looked around himself for something to get her attention. He was tiny, but very intelligent. He had to gain the attention of the exceedingly kind queen with the use of a very small voice. He was only a little thing after all, an Annelid, a common earthworm. Truth be told, there was nothing common about him.

[image error]THE WOLPERTINGER KING – Photo Credit Albrecht Durer and Rainer Zens

There was a broomstick leaning closest to the tip of his worm tail, so he pushed it over with all of his might, which in turn fell onto the cat who jumped up bristling from her nap and dashed like a lightning bolt towards the library. As she dashed, she over turned the small table which held the wretched cup of tea…and the queen, seeing the commotion… called for the Palace medical staff at once. The queen held the king, cradling him and rocking him close before the doctor arrived and was put straight to bed. Hemlock. Any part of the plant if ingested was deadly. It would take a miracle to save him…the kingdom too for that matter. What was going on here was nothing short of a coup d’état, which the Wolpertinger had never experienced in their long history. The monarchy would soon be overthrown, at least that is what the elders of the council were saying. Their days were numbered, and I know this because it is in all of our history books. Horst hung his head and cried after the incident. He had succeeded in alerting the queen who in turn called for the doctor, so maybe the king had a chance…but there was nothing in the world more important to him than to be accepted by this family. He wanted to feel bigger than he was, more important. He felt so small.

Horst had been so upset after. He turned his thoughts over and over until he fell asleep in the chosen one’s pocket, and now they stood in front of the unusual, small, red door, deep in the Alpine forest.

The trees looked like sticky white skeletons spiking sharply towards the sky and the chosen one liked the feel of them. They were ominous and matched his current mood. It felt odd seeing a door there, suddenly…he told me once… like the bright patch his mother sewed onto his favorite lambskin quilt when he was small.

This sudden magic didn’t seem completely random this morning, however. It seemed to match the theme of overthrowing the king and taking the kingdom. Get rid of the king and then the prince in line for the thrown by pulling him through a portal to elsewhere. The child knew he had been deemed special early in life and that even though he quite relished in acting contrary to how his mother and father expected him to, (and was always getting into trouble for it,) he had an obligation to preserve himself for the good of Kriegerlager, and he did take that seriously.

That strange red door, surrounded by cold, white powder… caught his attention thoroughly, and it was beckoning to him. The snow stretched on for ages, but it didn’t matter in that moment because there was death on the horizon and death is worse than the blistering cold. If you are ever chilled to the bone, be still of mind, be grateful, because you know that you are still alive…you are able to feel. This is a blessing…this is from the Wolpertinger Code.

His majesty the king was certainly dying, his father was dying…and was experiencing a most painful death. This is my grandfather we are talking about, the poisoned king. I love him so much and I never got to meet him. It was a national day of mourning the day he finally died. They stopped the post, lowered the flags to half-mast and broke the clocks. We still observe the day my grandfather Friedrich died…grandmother too, which is consuming and personal for everybody because they were the last Wolpertinger to actually die. Immortality was in our future, we just didn’t know about it yet. Have you seen the amulet around your Wolpertingers neck? The one who comes to your house at Easter time to investigate what you need or want at Eater. The medallion creates immortality for us. Every Wolpertinger wears one. All accept for my grandparents. It’s another story all together as to why they refused to wear one, but it’s about stubbornness mostly. For the anniversary of my grandfather’s death each year, there is all the expected pomp and circumstance of a nation mourning its last mortal king and there is always deep sorrow in the palace. It’s humbling and beautiful.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y32kkg8c

For the anniversary of my Grandmother Beate’s death, we all plant flowers. Flowers will grow down the mountain side, in our village. She loved cornflowers. Our kingdom is very beautiful because of this tradition, and I can’t help imagining her smiling down on us from heaven at the beautiful gardens planted in her name. I did meet my grandmother before she passed. She was like sunshine itself.

Your Wolpertinger Soldier

[image error]Photo Credit: KOBOLDS https://tinyurl.com/y8eyphs2

The door was quite quaint and, was round, as if made for only a Wolpertinger to fit through. The smallest of doors. It could have been a small Kobold door, which is a small nasty sprite, or even a small Hobbit door, which it had looked like one, but they didn’t live amongst the Wolpertinger. The Hobbits came to this realm, straight out of the mind and off of the pages of JRR Tolkien, because the Psychosphere, as everyone knows is where the ideas, creatures and beasts of writers and other influential thinkers come, fully materialize and live. Never mind the forest mice and other small animals who may be tempted to try and get through that door, we do have your earthly animals here too, because even the everyday thinker contributs to creation and what they see with their two eyes is what they think about and then we get them. In fact, our realm is very much like yours, same continents. Same general rules of physics, well other than portal travel. That’s ours. We didn’t invent it, but we practice it here just the same.

Back to the door, I’m sorry, I get side tracked sometimes. I’m here now to present a Wolpertinger to you and to tell you a bit about our history. Why? Because we are on a mission to streamline what kids want out of life, and we are about to study you. We are running this like a campaign, looking into what motivates you, crunching numbers, analyzing data, following trends. Your soldier will conduct stake outs and dig through your trash to find out everything about you. They will listen in on phone calls and follow you. Their mission is to find out what makes you happiest at Easter time and they have a deadline. DO NOT TOUCH THEM. They give off a skunk like stench that will take exactly seven years to dissipate. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

I’m an ambassador to
the Easter Headquarters and an enforcer of the Wolpertinger Code.

The name of the hero of
this story, the chosen one is Abelard, my
father, the one in line for the poisoned king’s throne. I didn’t tell you
his name earlier because his name contains the word lard, and many children find it hilarious. It’s pronounced Ab-i-lard. He is anything but funny, I
assure you. He grew into a fierce soldier and a most inspiring leader.

“I’m going to go
through the door.” Abelard said to Horst, that day long ago in the Alpine
Forest.  The little worm was now awake in
his pocket. Perhaps Horst was able to sense the magnitude of what was about to happen,
and he wanted to be a part of it.

“But, where does it
lead, Abelard? Why is it suddenly here? Who put it here, and will we be able to
get back home? Horst asked.

“Well, I was thinking
that I would go through and then quickly come right back to give the door a
test. I think that sounds like a reasonable thing to do.” Said Abelard more to himself
than to Horst. He was being uncharacteristically cautious.

“…And if we can’t come
back through?” Said Horst looking as if Abelard were the silliest boy in the
world.

“Well then I will
decide what to do next. I think I simply must
go through this door.” Abelard’s name meant resolute
in German, and Horst knew without a doubt that both would be into the portal in
a matter of the next few seconds. He braced himself by crawling down low along
the lining of Abelard’s pocket, so as not to be swept off by the whirring
suction he could hear mounting behind the tiny door.

Abelard hadn’t seen his
father fall from the poisoning and he hadn’t seen him right after in bed. The
queen had sent them on this errand minutes after the doctor came to the main
palace living quarters.

“Your father didn’t look well today, he was rigid and couldn’t move but his eyes were moving about as if his thinking were completely fine. I can’t believe you are out here on this pointless errand while King Friedrich is literally on his death bed. Though if I know your mother at all, I know that she is simply saving you from seeing your father that way.” He said. Abelard sighed again.

Where does this door
lead?
Is the same person who poisoned my father
also behind this portal? Perhaps it’s a trap. He furrowed his brow, sitting
down briefly to think about his mother and father, the King and Queen of this
land. He was thinking about what was happening to their kingdom. Instead of
jumping through the portal door, he played sullenly with a stick in the snow.

The kingdom was crumbling down before their very eyes. Soon there would be nothing left and they would become peasants, working for the Kobold spirits for peanuts. THEY were behind this, they had to be. Literally peanuts… There would be no food. Abelard could see it now in his active imagination, a red and white striped circus tent where he and Horst were the main act, and they wheeled about on a unicycle. The Kobold elites posing as humans, wearing white powder wigs with red rouged cheeks and ruby red lips. Throwing peanuts down at them and spitting out hateful comments. The crowd sneered and heckled them both. The Wolpertinger had never known this kind of darkness. The Kobolds were the worst kind of enemy. Ruthless and exterminating of joy. They left nothing to chance and were determined to eradicate the nation itself, along with the traditions and rich culture of the Wolpertinger. They wanted to take the peace of this place as their own.

It was Easter time and Abelard
had been told by his mother Beate, to use his amazing sense of smell,
exceptional hearing, laser sharp vision and top-notch jumping ability to find
the ingredients to make the Wolpertinger Munch that she so loved this time of
year. Since there was scarcity in the land and the Wolpertinger Army had been
summoned to protect the Wolpertinger from the Kobolds, they were living with
only rations, which had been going on for months. Kobolds were actually spirit
shapeshifters who could never
outsmart a Wolpertinger outright but who could cheat and steal unseen. They
posed as dolls, humans, tables, you name it. They were eating up everything and
had poisoned King Friedrich, now poor soul. He probably wouldn’t live out the
night and the Wolpertinger were to be left completely vulnerable. Abelard was
only a young kid, seven years old, to be exact. In line for the throne. When I
think about my father that day and the stress he must have been under, I think
I would have gone through that door too…I mean anything was better than feeling
that enormous weight of responsibility weighing down on him, but then again, my
father is more noble than I. That’s the truth too. I once stole a lollipop from
my baby brother and my mother scolded me in the most effective way. I’ve never
forgotten it.

She said, “Hermann, your father leads by example and lives only to protect and to show us all how to live joyful lives. You have greatness in you…yet you steal from a child? It’s the lowest hanging fruit. Not a challenge at all. You reach for what is easy in life, but are capable of much, much more than you will ever know.”  She said. I will never be as great as my father is, and that’s not just insecurity talking, that’s the truth, but he never made me feel like I was less than him. I think that is a sign of a great leader. King Abelard is great, but of course he needed to learn how to be great. You don’t just show up that way when you are born. It’s a process. I’m still in the process myself.

The errand that saved a nation

Anyways, the Wolpertinger Munch errand in the Alpine forest we were talking about earlier mattered to Abelard’s mother, the Wolpertinger queen Beate, so he would find it for her on the morning that the red door appeared. He had trudged through the snow listening to the birds chirping, looking to find the milk chocolate covered potato crisps, only one half of the tiny chip dipped…with bits of pretzel, salty popped corn drizzled with more chocolate and then any other pastel colored bonbon or tiny confection to make the mix really pop. This is what truly made her heart sing at Easter…ok, well, at least her taste buds truly sang when she munched down on that sweet, crunchy treat.

“I will do my best, mama.” Abelard told her.

“Please go into the village and look in the Süßigkeitenladen, candy shop. Maybe the Kobolds left something behind. Any scraps would be appriciated. Our rations include one piece of chocolate and I gave it to Horst this morning. He got my attention so that I could tend to your father when he fell. He is a most loyal friend and companion. We are very happy to have him here, Abelard.“

“Thank you, mama. He only came into our lives a year ago, but I consider him my best friend. Anyways, mama, I will be back at once.” Abelard said, he took the Wolpertinger Code very seriously. You never let another down, not ever. You would die before coming up short or leaving a mission undone. It simply wasn’t something that a Wolpertinger would do.”

Anyways, standing at the red door, he would use his sharp fangs to pick the lock, gnawing awkwardly until it fell open onto the underbrush beneath him. A slight head tilt to the side would clear my father Abelard’s antlers just enough to squeeze his rabbit head and body through the door. He weighed roughly 6 lbs. Around his neck he wore the medallion. He would tuck back his pheasant wings and use his short, young bird legs to pull through the small space keeping the medallion secure. He sighed.

        “Don’t worry Horst.” Abelard said. They both spoke German, one of the dozens of languages they knew between them. They were both natural detectives as all Wolpertinger are. This worm “Pet,” however was more like a sharp version of Watson, of the Sherlock Holmes duo. The two of them were completely in step. They worked extremely well together and some would argue that they worked better and more effectively together than they did by themselves. There was nothing they couldn’t find, detect or figure out. This worm made a fine companion to the young Wolpertinger who was more like Sherlock Holmes himself, if Sherlock Holmes could also fly, burrow, squeeze through small spaces or of course, effortlessly gnaw through metal.

Every Wolpertinger specimen is a different amalgamation of animal parts, but my father was actually cute, still is. He sits at the head of the Wolpertinger throne, to this day, as he wears the medallion. He is immortal, and that can be both a blessing and a curse. What it means to me, personally, is that I will never be king. Always a prince…never a king. I had a hard time with that earlier in my life, but now, I have found my purpose. To guide you and to teach you is my passion. We are completely devoted to the humans now as a species. Ok, picture the little red door at the base of the old towering tree.

            Abelard,
my father passed through the door, closing it behind him with a flip of his feline
tail and into the forest of Raven’s Grove, Pennsylvania he spilled. He was the
first Wolpertinger to set foot… in America, in the realm of the Psychosphere. He
found himself in the dark forest there which grew green and wild, giving shadow
to the many unruly and sometimes unsavory characters of the wood. It was just
adjacent to the expansive Holiday Headquarters property where the Hazamann
lived.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y2fputxc

You know the Hazamann as the Easter Bunny. His name means Hare Man in German and he’s a very tall rabbit often wearing a vintage suit. He’s a long-eared mammal on top and a human, oxford wearing man on the bottom. His heart is made of pure gold. Some describe him as a flower on a spindle because his DNA is made up of field rabbit and divine fairy DNA of the highest vibration. The mitotic spindles of DNA found in the tissue growth of both his fairy and mammalian tissues are pure. He lives at his highest potential just as a flower does. A flower being the highest vibrational expression of a flower seed.

Haza rides a steam
powered motorcycle to deliver Easter Baskets to the children of the world each
Easter. Why does he ride a motorcycle? Because some things are classic, and you
don’t mess with perfection.

This particular Easter
season, Haza decided that he needed a little help and so with magical
assistance, he placed that door there for Abelard to find, with only the purest
intentions. Haza knew that Abelard couldn’t resist a locked door. It was
Wolpertinger bait. Don’t worry, Haza had all of the ingredients to the
Wolpertinger Munch, he would never deprive Abelard’s mother of her hearts
delight. Haza’s expansive holiday estate was a confectionary headquarters with
expert candy artisans and bakers which would easily mix up the Munch for the
Wolpertinger Queen.

But to Haza’s dismay, again, it was Abelard’s curiosity which got the best of him. That famous Wolpertinger curiosity, it would come in handy later, but for today, it was not proving helpful. Not a moment was Abelard through the Bavarian side of the door, finding himself rolling out onto the green underbrush of the Raven’s Grove, PA, but was back up again and to Haza’s agitation, went right back through the door towards home, with little more than a head scratch. Once through the door, it disappeared, leaving dear Abelard to wonder if it had even happened? He and Horst sat in silence, confused…on the freezing, white blanket of snow.

“Rats,” Haza said on his side. The portal closed. Let’s try that again, there’s exactly two weeks to go and I need the Wolpertinger to help me investigate what the children of the world most desire at Easter time. One by one…what’s their truest heart’s desire. Guessing is a fool’s game, I know, I’ve been doing it for years, but we can do better.”

Haza with the help of
the Easter Fairies, materialized a bag of Wolpertinger Munch so lovely and
plump in front of Abelard, back in Bavaria, that he cried with joy at the sight
of it, and the dutiful son promptly took it to Queen Beate. The packaging was
exquisite. Truly fit for a queen.

“Let’s try a different Wolpertinger, on second thought, not Abelard, he is too curious, if there is such a thing…not all are up for this challenge.” Haza said to his wife Maude, who was the queen of the fairies herself. She was quite skilled at the art of magic and knew the hearts of all men and beasts. She was the one responsible for the magical part of Easter as you know it. The Easter Bunny himself didn’t possess the magic firsthand. You might say that he married into it.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y5hm3wr7

Maude knew, however,
that Abelard was very special. A king at heart. “We need a group of
Wolpertinger Haza, think…how can we
get a large group of royals to help us? Ones that are already trained in the
art of the Wolpertinger Code. We truly need their purity for our mission,” Maude
said, waiting for her husband to think it through and to come up with a
solution on his own. She loved how his mind worked and while they were usually on the same page, sometimes he surprised her and she would find herself doubtful
of her own abilities, thinking that the magic may actually be coming from him.  

“…It’s time for the Wolpertinger
Army! Seems like a good time given the state of things in Kriegerlager.” Haza
exclaimed to his wife who was currently beaming at him. “Little Abelard is just
a boy, a sweet curious little boy, he was handpicked to be the next Wolpertinger
king based off of years of study and evaluation, by the Wolpertinger council of
elders and he wears the medallion we sponsored, but he may not be ready to lead
our mission. He’s just not ready, in
my opinion. We need his father’s army, and the rest of King Friedrich’s
children whom are bred to be soldiers and they can carry the load. We need their
expert observation and tracking skills. Perhaps they all would be willing to
work with us earlier than expected if we offer them our protection from the
Kobolds starting today, we will give each of them a medallion too to collect
data and to deem them all immortal?” Said Haza.

“I will go to speak
with King Friedrich myself. The fairies can shield the general Wolpertinger community
from the Kobolds in the meantime. We will protect the soldiers too. These are
dark times. We need to hurry, I have the feeling that we don’t have long before
King Friedrich expires from the hemlock poisoning. His mind will be unaffected.
Too bad he drank that tea. He is simply paralyzed right now as the hemlock
plant attacks the nervous system, but he will die from asphyxiation soon
enough. His respiratory system will shut down. The cruelty of the Kobolds is
unparalleled, but those little sprites are no match for the purity of fairy
magic, and to think that they only want the Wolpertinger’s land to find peace.
When are they going to learn that peace comes from within?” Said Maude.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y53wss3e

“We will help them,
gladly, let’s get some food and supplies ready to send to the Wolpertinger.”
Said Haza.

“Well, yes, but it
isn’t that simple, we will send the supplies and food, what I mean is we need consent.
The Wolpertinger need to agree to work with us unforced. We have been planning our
work with the Wolpertinger for decades, but this agreement wasn’t supposed to
take effect for another ten years or so. We will protect them from afar, they
don’t need to come here. Our magical reach and influence has no bounds. It’s
how we have always done things. All who live here or who work with us will choose
it for themselves. You tried to catch young Abelard today, but it didn’t work.
Let’s try a different approach, shall we? We will try cooperation?”

“Ok, that sounds like something King Friedrich would be very happy about, and I agree too. Protection without having to change their habitat, culture, or way of life… Please come back to me in one-piece mein liebling.” Haza said as he kissed his wife on the forehead. He loved her so.

 Haza went to his workshop. This was his Mona Lisa. He began sweeping it. There was nothing more sacred than this space to him. This is where he, with the help of many little hands created the toys and treats for the Easter holiday. This is where his creativity truly came to life. He lit a fire in the fireplace to set the mood because it was only two weeks until Easter in Pennsylvania and the weather was beautiful outside. There were many fairies hard at work, churning out the candies and weaving the baskets. He loved the crackle of the fire and the beauty of its dancing flames. He began to sing and dance with his broom as he swept and more of the Easter fairies came out of the woodwork literally to join him.

It’s the Easter season and we have a reason,

to find a way to help our youth.

Times are bleak friends and we have two weeks friends

to inspire the children, to find proof.

Your happiness isn’t hardwired, your brain is a product of you.

Choose happiness in the moment and choose gratitude.

If you’re happy, we’re happy because we are a byproduct of you, too.

Our stories are intertwined and what you imagine comes true.

You must start believing because our realm you are leading and

There’s nothing more important than truth.

There’s nothing more important than youth.

Now we need to find proof,

What makes you happy we’ll sleuth.

Long live the king

Queen Maude arrived by
portal to Kriegerlager just in time. King Friedrich was gasping for air and was
reaching for her. She took his hand in hers and closed her eyes. King Friedrich
began a coughing fit and coughed and contorted and wheezed until a large black cloud
came out of his mouth in a stream of black soot and flew right out of the
window. It was a Kobold, not hemlock poisoning after all which had been
paralyzing him and so his body quickly began to regain its strength.

“Disgusting parasite, be gone!” He coughed and stammered. “Thank you, Queen Maude, what can I do to repay you? You wouldn’t be able to believe the terrible mind of that Kobold. Its thoughts were dark and debilitating. I couldn’t move, overcome with fear and regret. Thank you for freeing me from it’s grasps. We must stop them from taking over the peace of this nation.”

Maude knew it was a
Kobold inside of the king as soon as she touched his hand. It was cold, like
the hand of death itself, and she simply infused her warmth into the king,
pushing the Kobold out. “You’re welcome King Friedrich. You needn’t repay me, I
am actually here to ask you to allow us, as you promised us long ago, the use
of Abelard’s heart.”

“It’s time? But he is
so young Queen Maude, do you really think he is ready?” King Friedrich said,
looking worriedly at his wife who was catching the conversation through the
translator in the room who was signing for her. Queen Beate looked weak in the
knees. It had been an overwhelming day to say the least. First her husband was
almost taken from her. Overshadowed by evil which threatened to snuff him out,
and now this.

“Is his heart and spirit ready to be a conductor and barometer for the Easter season, you must know Maude? How can a young Wolpertinger singlehandedly weather the collective emotional storm of the children of earth? That medallion he wears around his neck will tell you what percentage the children are happy or unhappy, but won’t my son feel that? Isn’t he too young…to ask this of him?” Beate signed to the translator who asked Maude in German. Maude and Haza spoke many languages too.

“Well that medallion
makes him immortal, and yes he will feel it, but I guess it’s up to him if he
wants it to begin today…to be responsible for gauging the happiness of millions
of people on earth and feeling it. Though
I think I have someone who can relieve him a bit of the burden. He will be like
an electrical conductor between their realm and ours. The happiness of earth’s
realm needs to be monitored so that we know if our work is helping. Each
individual Wolpertinger will find what makes each individual child happy, but
Abelard will feel the emotions of ALL of them. My husband, Haza, doesn’t think
that Abelard is ready, based on his behavior, but I think that he is based on his heart. Maybe we
should ask him now? We offer our
protection from the Kobold henceforth of course, and any other threat that may
arise. A shield is currently being stitched and draped over Kriegerlager and Abelard
will stay with you here. His medallion will report back to our super medallion,
which I will be wearing to intercept the information once Abelard’s pure heart has
crunched the data. It’s a full-time job and he will be compensated handsomely
for it. Listen, I know what we ask of you and your family is enormous, and that
we will be forever in your debt.”

“You just saved my
husband from possession of evil.” Said Queen Beate.” I am quite certain that a
solution can be found which will satisfy all involved.”

“I will send for young Abelard, he isn’t usually far off, and enjoys reading in the library with his annelid friend Horst.” King Friedrich sent for Abelard at once.

“Good, thank you dear
King. I will check on the protective shield’s progress…it is almost complete. A
few seconds more, to keep out the Kobolds and any who are currently here will immediately
be cast out. None will be allowed inside of a 10-kilometer radius of
Kriegerlager.” Said Maude.

“Thank you, dear Queen,
please stay, let’s have lunch.” Said Beate.

Castles

Abelard and Horst had been reading in the library when they were summoned to meet the others in the banquet hall. A large open room with wooden beams and vibrant frescos painted on the walls and ceiling, it was magnificent. It made you feel a part of nature even in doors here with the topiaries and foliage sprawling the four walls. Birds flew freely. Torches lined the frescos behind the long central table and candles surrounded by flowers donned the table as center pieces. A feast lay out before them, all rations used for this one meal. They ate and drank until they were full. There was something sacred in the air and a peace that hadn’t been felt for months in this place.

“Are the Kobolds gone?” Signed Abelard to his mother, taking a seat across from her.

“Yes dear, your
godmother has cast them out, it will be safe here now. Do you remember what we
talked about when you were younger? How you were going to be the one who stood
as a beacon and barometer for the Easter season for Queen Maude and the
Hazamann?”

“Yes, mama.” He said
sheepishly.

“Well, your godmother
is here to tell you about beginning your duty. I can feel the peace, can’t you?”

“Yes, I can feel the
peace.” Said Abelard. “But what happened to Horst? I can’t find him anywhere…He
disappeared right before we left the library. Literally disappeared right
before my eyes. That was you wasn’t it, Godmother?”

Maude looked at the
king and queen meaningfully in turn and said nothing. Several seconds passed
without a word from anyone and then finally Maude touched young Abelard on the
shoulder. He looked up at her. He had been silently crying.

“He isn’t dead, is he?
Why did you take him away from me? He is my best friend. Why can’t I do your
work and also have my best friend?”

Beate and King
Friedrich suddenly realized that Horst was a Kobold, hiding in plain sight and that he had been cast out with
the rest in the cleansing.

“He watched me drink that tea. It almost killed me.” Said the King.

“Yes, but he also
alerted me to what was happening, and I was able to get the Doctor before you
perished where you stood.” Said Queen Beate.

“He would never hurt a
flea, he made everything better. Just having him in my life made my life
better. I was so terribly lonely before.” Abelard said to Maude.

“I understand dear boy…Horst had this family’s best interest at heart. He did save the King this morning. He is very loyal and loving. Unfortunately, his being here with you for the past year, summoned the other Kobold to come and caused an infestation of sorts…he also isn’t a he at all, dear Abelard.  Horst is a young girl about your age. Her name is Leonie and she wants to be more…than she is. She answers a small voice deep inside of her. It’s always been there guiding her. She is a pure spirit amongst tortured ones, and she yearns to be what her heart desires.” There was silence in the banquet hall while everyone tried to understand what the queen was saying.

 “There are creatures big and small, from every
walk of life who want to be different than they are expected to be. To be perhaps
better than the life circumstances
they were born into. In Leonie’s case, she was born a Kobold and they are quite
dominantly evil. Leonie isn’t though. She chooses to be different every day,
and she puts her hopes and dreams into action. She’s smart and sharp and wants
to help people instead of hurting them.” The three Wolpertinger continued to stare
at Maude, absolutely dumbfounded. Abelard was crushed more than dumbfounded. Deeply shocked, he felt betrayed,
but more, he couldn’t accept that his friend was gone.

“Can she come back inside
of the protective shield since she isn’t evil? I need her help. She helped me
figure things out better than I could do on my own, and I will need her while I
do this job for you. I can’t do it on my own.” Said Abelard.

“Well that is where you are wrong, dear boy. You are smart and sharp too. Horst or Leonie helped you to see that about yourself. That’s what friendship does. It helps you to see your own beauty. All of the things she helped you to do…you can do for yourself, but the reality is that you will miss her, and that I think I can help you with. Come with me.” Maude opened a portal door which appeared before them and they all stepped through it.

 10-kilometers due East of the Wolpertinger
castle was where they appeared, stepping out of the portal door.

“Is this the protective
shield?” Abelard asked, putting his hand through the field of light…watching his
hand disappear and looking at it through the other side of the shield and then
pulling it back again. Over and over he did it, giggling and carrying on to
himself.

“Abelard, I want you to
look at something.” Maude said, with the king and queen standing close by. Abelard
looked where Maude was pointing and they all could see a small figure on the
other side of the protective shield. A small worm.

“Horst! Are you ok? You
aren’t hurt are you?” Abelard yelled, trying to push through the shield.

“Abelard, I know that
you know my name is Leonie. I am sorry that I deceived you. I didn’t want to
hurt you, only to be of service to you and your family. I want to be a
Wolpertinger and to serve the king and queen. You all are soft, caring and
kind. You are incredible hunters, information gatherers and extremely educated
and well read. I don’t have the same opportunities as you do, I’m a Kobold.”

“Of course, you do, you
have books.” Abelard said. “You told me all about the books you read. Were you
lying?”

“We have books Abelard
if we take them. Our culture isn’t like
yours. We move around and take what we need to survive. Our leader Moritz wanted
your land because it is fertile land and there is a peace here that we simply
don’t have on our own. I want more than that though. I want a family and a
life. I want roots, traditions and children. How can I have any of these things
if I don’t have roots? I’m sorry I lied to you, I thought if you knew that I
was a girl, you wouldn’t want to play with me.”

“See, I told you she was smarter than me.”
Abelard said, turning to Maude who beamed at him.

“She is quite wise.”

“So she can come back
through then?”

“I am afraid that the shield is 100% effective at keeping the threat out. When and if, she is not a threat…in the future…if she becomes a trusted friend to the Wolpertinger, the shield will know and she will be allowed safe, protected passage back into Kriegerlager. In the meantime, I invite you to carry on your friendship.”

“Through the wall?”
Leonie asked, “but I don’t have any books.”

“I will read to you.”
Abelard said. “Every day, we can meet here, each morning at sunrise and we can
read and talk and figure things out and nothing needs to change.”

“But it has changed, at
least for me. You’re in there and I’m out here.” Leonie said. Abelard hung his
head. He was smart enough to know that Leonie meant that her dreams had been dashed.
That her wish of being a Wolpertinger and being accepted as one of the pack…may
never come true. She was devastated. Abelard could see it in her eyes.

“While Abelard grows
into a man, you Leonie, will grow into a woman and you will both be an extremely
important part of our mission. This I know to be 100% true. In Chinese philosophy, yin and yang describe how
seemingly opposite forces may actually be complementary, interconnected, and
interdependent and how they may give help
to the other as they interrelate to one another. This concept describes you
two. There
is no short cut for this process. Leonie is seemingly bad with good in her and
Abelard is seemingly good with bad in him. You must go through the growing
pains of life to grow and grow into completely feeling adults, complex enough
to be beacons of light and data crunchers for this season. You will start today
and learn on the job.” Maude explained.

“If I do this, can I
come back in there with Abelard?” Asked Leonie.

“Like I was explaining
to Abelard before, the shield will let you in naturally when you are ready,
because it isn’t capable of judgement in
the traditional sense. It simply knows the frequency
of goodness. When you are the vibrational frequency that the shield is looking
for, the same as the Wolpertinger, you will be allowed to come through. My
advice to you is to not pine for the future, but to be present in the moment.
Every moment choose happiness and listen to your heart’s desire, you will
eventually accumulate enough of a “happy experience,” that you will become
happiness itself and the shield will open for you.”

“Then I will become a
Wolpertinger. I will shapeshift into a Wolpertinger then. I won’t need to hide
as a worm.”

“You don’t need to hide
as a worm now Leonie. You are beautiful as you are but are lucky that you can shape
shift. Be a Wolpertinger now, today. Being a Wolpertinger in practice until you
become one in reality… is the key. Olympians practice being champions every day
until they succeed. That’s the secret of life. Be that thing, practice, enhance, and prepare yourself to be that
thing you want to be in every given moment until it comes true. You just happen
to have the ability to actually look
like the thing you want to become. Lucky you, Leonie. You are special.”

Leonie didn’t need to
be told twice. She shapeshifted into a beautiful young Wolpertinger fawn. She
had rosy cheeks and long eyelashes. She was a deer with floppy rabbit ears. She
would eventually grow into her ears, but her deer body would always stay small.
She was a petite doe, and she was so happy about it…that she pranced the shield
fence with robust joy. She danced about and laughed and ran.

“What about me, Queen
Maude? What do I need to do to be happy?” Asked Abelard.

“You’re a learner, you’re willing to put in more work than most people… to become more of who you are. You’re willing to spend the bulk of your day reading and putting new information into your mind so that you can grow. Your willingness to grow and to transform your mind into becoming who you were put on this earth to become makes you extremely rare, and very, very special. We aren’t challenged in this life to become “more,” as in someone different from ourselves. That is an impossibility, (accept for shapeshifting species.) We are challenged in this life to become more and more of ourselves. Concentrated and potent versions of who we already are…with a positive spin. Helping others will bring out your best. You need to learn from Leonie, she will be your mentor and you will be hers. Read to her from your books and listen to her ideas, she will listen to yours and you will strive to choose happiness in each moment like she has been instructed to do. Happiness will be an important state of mind when dealing with the state of the human beings you will be serving. You must be organized, hard-working, thankful and in a state of mindful happiness while doing this work. Start each day with gratitude, positive mantras and organization by making a plan for your day and then putting it into action. You will then be filtering the emotions and analyzing the data for us. This book will teach you what we expect of you both. It’s the precursor to the Wolpertinger Code.” Maude turned to the beautiful young Wolpertinger. “Leonie, this small castle outside of the shield will be where you rest your head each night.” A beautiful gilded castle appeared before them. Smaller than the palace, but a real castle, nonetheless, protected by its own shield.

“Thank you, queen
Maude.”

“Abelard will have a
matching castle inside of the shield where he will rest his head at night.”
Another identical castle appeared inside of the Wolpertinger shield.

“Thank you, queen
Maude.” Abelard put his hand over his mouth in awe.

“Each morning, you will begin your work together, until past dark. God speed children. If you ever need me, press the center of your matching medallions. Though I will be checking in with you daily, we are only a heartbeat away.” Maude handed Leonie a necklace and the matching one that Abelard wore rippled with light. The medallions seemed to sync and shown brightly around the young childrens necks.  

“Good bye all, until next time.” And with that. She was gone.

40 years living the Wolpertinger Code

Much time passed and
Leonie and Abelard were now adults. In their late forties their castles blended
because Leonie was able to come through the shield. Everyone already knew that
they were in love. Their minds were in tune, their missions were aligned, and
they were ready to marry and to start a family. It had been many decades but
now they were the King and Queen of Kriegerlager. King Friedrich and Queen
Beate had passed.

 I, Hermann am half Kobold and half
Wolpertinger, but it doesn’t matter. The truth is the Wolpertinger have become
shapeshifters over time because they are the offspring of my mother and father.
At Easter, you can assume that you are being watched 24/7. You don’t see your
Wolpertinger soldier on the table where you last saw him? That table in your
kitchen might be your Wolpertinger soldier. The Vase? This job is too easy for
us.

[image error]Photo Credit: https://tinyurl.com/y2qadllk

What greater gift could Maude have given us that day at the border of Kriegerlager? But the gift of immortality and the book of the precursor to the Wolpertinger Code where is written the secrets to our sustained happiness to enjoy our immortality. She gave us the opportunity to work with you all. Your royal Wolpertinger can teach you the secrets. Listen…they talk to you through your heart and mind, where the voice of happiness itself resides. Make sure you don’t miss it. Take time to listen each morning while you prepare for your day and SMILE, because you are loved.

The Magic of Rembrandt

[image error]Photo Credit: http://tinyurl.com/y4cx9azs

              Many
years later, as he lay on the deck of his boat, Patrick remembered the day he
got him. Rembrandt was a German Shorthaired Pointer and was dappled brown.
Exceptionally strong and energetic, he needed lots of exercise.

              Patrick was a runner and an accountant who worked out of his home in Houston. They were a perfect match- however reluctant Patrick was to take Remy in, in the first place.

It was a cloudy overcast day in March and the skies were opening to pour. Patrick had just started his run, when he noticed a small, gorgeous pointer puppy scratching at an industrial fence surrounding an abandoned factory downtown.

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              Patrick
looked around for the puppy’s owner or his mother, but there was no one. It began to rain. First slowly
and then came down in sheets. Patrick thought quickly. There was an opening in
the fence, a few feet from where the puppy was trying to get through. Patrick
scooped Remy up and squeezed through
the small opening. Maybe he could take cover under the awning he saw across the
factory yard. Remy cuddled into the crook of Patrick’s armpit.

              The factory had ivy growing up the side of the brick. It was the kind of charming place that would make a great brewery or trendy advertising space, Patrick thought. He had never run on this side of town before, but found that by switching up his running spots, he learned more about the city and also got a better workout. The hills were different etc. Taking cover under the awning got him close enough to the shattered window of the place to see why no one wanted it. He smelled urine. He saw squatters. There were fires burning in old rusty trashcans strewn intermittingly across the factory floor.

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              Patrick locked gazes with a person on his haunches. He had strange green eyes and was bent over a man who looked like he had gone on to a better place. Laying next to the deceased was the mother pointer, who also appeared to have joined her owner over the rainbow bridge.

              “You best be moving on sir,” the young man on his haunches said. “They,” took all of the puppies. That one must have gotten away. He pointed to Rembrandt in Patrick’s arms. “Hurry. Just take that pup and get out of here, before they come back. They must be very special dogs.”              

Patrick didn’t want a dog and wasn’t sure it was right to just take the pup. Weren’t there proper procedures or some legal transfer- of- ownership types of things? Patrick looked down at Remy’s mother’s lifeless body and made a decision.

[image error]Rembrandt Painting of a Boy,
Photo Credit: http://tinyurl.com/y64azr97

              Through the pouring rain, he ran, and he didn’t look back. I have a puppy, he thought. What am I going to do with a puppy? What will Jenny say? Patrick’s fiancé was an artist and a dog lover, but they were planning to move in together next month. Is this something she can handle? Jenny’s favorite artist was Rembrandt and Patrick thought that this might be Jenny’s weak spot.

Just then Patrick tripped over an uneven piece in the sidewalk and twisted his ankle. The twist was so severe, he felt the muscle detach up in his knee. The meds he was on made his tendons weak, a side effect he didn’t think applied to him…the pain was unbearable. He fell onto his hands and screamed. Remy went flying but landed on all fours. He was a sturdy little guy for being so young. Patrick swiveled around onto his backside as the rain fell on them both and opened up his arms for Remy to crawl onto his lap.

              “Aww,
little boy, what are we going to do now?” Patrick protected Remy’s head under
his armpit again and winced as he manually moved his hurt leg to a straighter
position. He called Jenny on his cell, who came immediately from her studio and
got them both into the car.

              “What
happened, you’ve only been gone for 45 minutes, Patrick.” She was looking at
him in the rear-view mirror, worried. Remy was relentlessly licking at
Patrick’s bloody knee.

              “Stop
pup, stop, that tickles.” Patrick said. “This puppy’s mother was dead, and
their owner too, in an old abandoned building and someone stole all of the
other pups…”

              “What?” Jenny said, “That’s terrible.”

              “Wait a minute….wait just a minute…pull over, Jen.”

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              “I need
to get you to a hospital Patrick, I couldn’t even get you into the car, you
have major damage in there.”

              “Pull
over, you’re not going to believe this.” Patrick said, with excitement.

              “Oh, OK.”
Jenny said, hands up in the air, confused.

              Jenny pulled over in a parking lot and they both got out. “Stay in there boy.” Patrick said to Remy. Patrick got out of the car in the pouring rain and said. “I think this is why the murderer stole the dogs.” Patrick walked around in a circle; jazz hands out, completely healed. “I think this pup healed my leg.”

              “Darling,
you’re telling me what; that this dog has magical powers?”

              “Jen,
that’s ridiculous…but, yes, I am telling you that Remy has magical powers.”

              “you NAMED
HIM? This is too much Patrick. Where will he sleep? He is a puppy, what if he
destroys the studio I’m building, or the couch or our shoes?”

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              “He’s named after Rembrandt, your favorite…he healed my leg, let’s not worry so much about what he might do. Let’s look at what he’s done. It’s raining. Let’s get out of the rain and talk about this at my place….our place. I’ll light a fire and put on some coffee and we can talk.” Jenny looked at Patrick sideways. She knew that as soon as the puppy was in the house, it was all over. They were going to be dog owners. She was quietly fine with that. She just wanted to make sure that she was setting semi-solid boundaries, however futile the exercise. It was a big deal to her that they were moving in together. She was from an Irish Catholic family who didn’t look too kindly on her living with a man before marriage. Now they had a dog. Having a dog isn’t something to be taken lightly, anyways. They need lots of love and attention. They need exercise and great effort, freely given to training them and spending time with them. 

              “Let’s
go,” she said, smiling the smile. The one that Patrick had been waiting for,
and he knew that he had won her over.

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              The
next day was chaos. Jenny decided sometime late in the night that she wanted to
move in right away. Patrick and Remy needed her. She was unsure of Patrick’s
leg situation, even though he was acting fine and walking with his normal
athletic gait. Frankly there was too much excitement in the house to be away
for any length of time, this is where
she wanted to be. Remy’s purity and
special gifts inspired her and she was up all-night doing charcoals of the
magic pup. She did a quick mixed medium of just Remy’s face and started an oil
of the three of them together on the couch. She put it on her blog which had
been getting a lot of traction lately and she was starting to get job offers. She
wasn’t quite sure what to do with the overwhelming nature of her rising
success. She was steadfast. She was determined and strong, so she focused on
the current situation and would figure out the rest.

               It was crazy- their instant attachment. These types of relationships take time and there are usually milestones and measured growth, but the three of them were bonded immediately as if they had been dying of thirst and were finally drinking from the same satisfying well. It was magic.  

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              The
next year went well, and they were happy. The wedding ceremony date had been set
and they were frantically preparing for the big day. They tasted cake….Remy did
too. They picked out flowers…Remy did too. (…he relieved himself on them.) They
snuggled under the huge oak in the dog park…Remy did too.

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              But then
it happened. Right then and there in the dog park. A man approached the couple,
Jenny of whom was obviously pregnant.

              “Get the
dog, and I’ll take care of the other two.” The first man ran up to the sleeping
family and was flattened by a snarling Remy and the barking woke Patrick and
Jenny.

              “Remy, what’s going on…” Patrick said. He looked at the men and saw that one had strange green eyes. He remembered him from the old abandoned factory. He was the one who was on his haunches over the dead mother dog and owner in that old factory.

              “This pup is magic and I let you go that day, but now I want him for myself. I am going to sell this dog, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll give him to me. We have been looking for you for a year and I knew that if I stayed near this park long enough…I would find you. I would have never stopped looking for you.” Remy kicked the man down with his back two feet like a stallion and the other man grabbed for Remy but missed.

              “Let’s
go!” Patrick yelled and they hurried as fast as Jenny could go, 8 months
pregnant. They hopped in the car and Remy barked ferociously at the men who
reached the car, just as they pulled away.

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              “I don’t
like this Patrick.” Jenny was driving swiftly away from the dog park. “I think
I should take that first job offer…after the wedding. We can just move away. I
don’t feel safe. We can give this baby, our dog and ourselves a fresh start. I
mean it’s a creative director position, that would be good for us financially.
I don’t want us to constantly have to look over our shoulders, because of these
guys. Remy is part of our family now. I mean… I was infertile. All of the doctors told me so…and Remy helped us. His
presence in our lives has been a blessing. I won’t have him hurt or taken.”

              “Yes and remember that time at your friend Lucy’s party. Lucy cut her hand and Remy licked it and it didn’t heal her. He blesses only us with his magic.” Patrick said.

              “…and the time at our bank. You were getting money out and that old man fell over and same thing, Remy tried to help his head…but we ended up having to call the ambulance. Geez, I hope that man is ok…now that I think about it.” Jenny said.

              “What
about your family? They will never let us leave Houston for San Diego.” Patrick
said.

              “The job is a dream come true Patrick; I think because we are leaving to better ourselves…they will give us their blessing. Plus, with the extra money, we can fly them out to see us.” Jenny rubbed her belly in the loving and protective way that women do. “You are going to need to get a boat.” Jenny laughed.

              “Yes,
your father will let us go if I get a boat…that’s true.” Patrick smiled, and
Remy barked. “Aww, good dog…let’s go home. We have a lot to think about, don’t
we boy? Thank you for protecting us…let’s go…let’s go…” Patrick ruffled the
scruff behind Remy’s ears and Remy smiled from ear to ear. Joy spilled from his
eyes and he jumped around excitedly.

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              Well, in San Diego the Foster family soon found themselves. Baby Isla was born in December and they were married in January. They unpacked in their new San Diego home in May. Remy slept at the foot of the bassinet in Jenny and Patrick’s room. They were happy. They felt safe here. Patrick’s job was easily done remotely, so not much changed for him, but Jenny’s new job was incredible. The perks were fantastic, and she had a renewed sense of purpose. Being a mother had changed her for the better. She was even more caring and doting than she had been before. It seemed that ever since Rembrandt had come into their lives,they had all grown exponentially.

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A few months into the transition to San Diego, Patrick did get a boat. He named it “The Magic of Rembrandt.” Had it painted right across the side in a sensible font.

              Remy
helped the family again when Isla was three and was particularly mischievous.
She crawled up on everything. “Being up high,” was all she talked about. In the
back yard was a beautiful, thick tree. Isla was much too small to climb up as
far as she always did, and her mother more than once needed to climb up after
her. Isla was fearless and Jenny was a nervous wreck.

              “You need
to be careful, little girl.”

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              “Okay Mommy.” Isla would say, not from the swings, but from the top bar of the swing set. “Oh, no!” Jenny would say and run to get her back down again.

              It was one early morning that everything changed.….Isla was up earlier than usual. Perhaps she had a bad dream or she was starting a new normal routine, but Remy was the only one who knew she was up. The clock read 4:30 am.

              Isla
helped herself to the snack chest. She chose Doritos and got herself a juice
box. She had trouble putting the straw in the opening and spilled half of it,
which Remy quickly cleaned up behind her. She turned on the tv and watched
until about 4:55 when she found herself bored. She jumped on the couch a bit.
Took all of the books off of the bookshelves and then climbed all of the way,
shelf after shelf to the top. This under normal circumstances was something
that Isla could do with relative ease, but it was dark. The light from the TV
was the only light in the room.

              When she reached the top, she knocked over an antique vase and it tumbled to the floor, breaking into many pieces. Isla lost her footing as she watched the vase fall to the ground and soon followed after it. She landed on a sharp piece of ceramic, so sharp it cut to the bone. Isla’s arm didn’t bleed right away, but then the bleeding started. She was badly hurt.

              The loud noise woke the house of course, and Patrick and Jenny came down to see the TV room destroyed and Remy licking Isla’s massive wound. Isla was screaming bloody murder, but Remy was clam and determined.

              “Stay
still, baby.” Patrick told his daughter.

              “He’s trying to help you.” Said Jenny. And then she was healed. Isla started whimpering and ran to her mother who was exasperated and still half asleep. Remy circled Jenny and Isla, making sure that his little girl was ok.

              “I’ll start the coffee pot.” Patrick said. “Here’s a treat, good boy.” Remy followed happily. Isla and Jenny rocked in the chair for the better part of the morning. The baby seemed deeply shaken by the experience. She had finally learned the consequence of “being up high, without supervision.” This was sad in itself, but also a relief to Jenny.

              “From now on, let’s stay in our beds until the sun comes up Isla. We don’t know where you are if you leave your room.” Jenny said as she rocked.

              “…but
Remy knew where I was.” Isla said.

              “Yes and
thank goodness he did. I am so, so thankful to him, that he was with you.” Remy
came up and curled up at Jenny’s feet. “We are so lucky to have you, Remy.”

              “Will he
always be with us, Mommy?”

              “Yes,
sweet girl. He will be with us for as long as he can be. We will always protect
him and take care of him. He is a member of our family and has brought much
happiness to our lives.”          

              Patrick let Remy out to go to the bathroom later that morning and it was the last time that the Fosters ever saw Rembrandt. He simply disappeared…almost as mysteriously as he had come into their lives, he was gone.

Jenny thought that the men had finally caught up with them and dognapped him from the back yard. Isla thought he was taken by the unicorns to their land, to teach them his brand of magic and to learn from them too. Patrick, well, he was devastated.

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               No amount of explaining away what had happened to Remy would do. He was beside himself and would go on long boat rides alone. He was worried sick about how his pup was. He had saved Remy from a very bad situation and Remy had brought great joy to their lives. Maybe that’s what all dogs do for us, he thought. Maybe that was Remy’s truest magic. He made us happier than they could have ever hoped for and he saved my little girl. Patrick thought, he wept in the boat he named for his pet who he could only assume would pass onto the rainbow bridge to see his mother and siblings again soon. Nobody could care about Remy as much as we could, he thought. One tear fell into the water and it rippled. He looked at his reflection and saw Remy panting happily behind him. He turned quickly to see if Remy was there, but of course he wasn’t. He turned back again to look at his reflection and there Remy was again.

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              “You’ll always be with me boy…won’t you? Is that what you are trying to tell me? I love you, dear boy. Thank you for coming to us. You have changed us for the better…forever and we will never forget you. “ And with that…Patrick went on home to the house where his wife and daughter were setting out a picture of their beloved pet on the mantle. Remy would have loved it. There he was, strong and resilient and the photo brought the Fosters great joy.

The Easter Sleuth- A Short Story

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The Easter season began and Grandmama was selling off our belongings. Our sleepy Iowa town sold corn and gossip by the bushel but didn’t have a lot of room for old jazz musicians like Grandmama was. It was the 1950’s.

We were the talk of the town, and not in a good way since our parents died in a violent, submerging car crash. Grandmama moved in to “help.” She was my mama’s mama and she was an emotionally cruel woman who resented being anything but stylish, talented and pampered. “I used to play to full crowds.” She would say and she could see them there in front of her…her adoring fans. When she came back to reality, all she would see was us. The dishtowel over her shoulder seemed to remind her that she was a domestic caretaker now and she’d crack it in the air like a whip when she saw us. Her brown eyes turning black with disgust.

Then she’d day something fresh like, “What are you kids still doing here,” and she would say it with a cruel chuckle. “Quit acting like you are a spy, Johnny. You’re not 007, you’re nothing but a nuisance. I’m too young to be taking care of kids again.” Grandmama adjusted her finger waves with long manicured fingers in the mirror.

She could be a professional piano player in town instead of volunteering at church like she did sometimes. Maybe she was scared she wasn’t good enough, we didn’t know. She also could teach piano lessons or something instead of selling our parents’ things for money. She had options, but she didn’t like any of them.

Grandmama could play that piano and make it sing! But it didn’t bring her an ounce of joy, and so it didn’t bring anybody else any joy neither. There was a dullness in her movements. There was nothing but coldness in the places where love should have been.

“I know you took mama’s broaches. I followed you to the pawn shop.” I said to her boldly one morning. She stared at me long and hard, but she didn’t do anything.

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 “You look just like my husband who went missin’ after he went off to the war in 1942. Anyone ever tell you that, Johnny? Your granddaddy was the love of my life, but he went off and ain’t nobody ever seen him since.” She jazzed the piano keys a little and took a swig of her sugary coffee, slamming down mama’s good china. Then she inspected it closely as if she had over looked its value, and looked at me… irreverently slamming down the piano lid.

“I know he’s still alive too…I can feel it in
my bones. Clean this mess up.” Grandmama said as she sauntered away from the oak
breakfast table. She was wearing my mother’s favorite dress. The beautiful one
with the embroidered red roses. I couldn’t help it, I could excuse everything
else, but the dress? It made my blood boil. The next morning, I found it rolled
up at the bottom of grandmama’s hamper and I took it in to be cleaned and
pressed. I then took it to the charity where my mother used to volunteer. They
collected beautiful clothes for women who needed a second chance in life. She
would have wanted them to have it.

“You are a sweet boy, Johnny.” The charity lady said. “Your mother was very proud of you and I know she would have been very happy you did this…I know just the lady it will fit too.” I walked home happily. Smelling the flowers and noticing the leaves blowing on the trees. I took a breath of the fresh Iowa air and I felt mama. She was all around me, hugging me through the wind. I cried a little bit, but no one saw me.

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I was only 12 years old the year my parents died and when the magic started. I had this incredible chance encounter with the Hare-man, at Easter, at the height of my sadness. At that time, I thought it all a coincidence, but now I’m not so sure.

I was up late reading by flashlight, and I saw the enormous creature speed through a freestanding portal out in the field. It was Easter’s Eve and suddenly his motorcycle skidded wildly, sending loose dirt raining down my window. It scared me.

I panicked and peeked…intrigued to see a steam powered motorcycle parked. The larger than life creature, a tall dapper Rabbit adjusted his spectacles and waistcoat. He whispered something inaudible.

Fairies brought three, beautiful baskets, through an opening they made in the side of our little blue house. Our place immediately filled with the scent of sage and citrus and was infused with an overwhelming sense of joy. I noticed the feeling right away because the atmosphere was suddenly light and buoyant and took the place of a heavy, melancholy sadness. Flowers started growing in my room. Vines twirled out of the walls and gorgeous blooms busted through, sending plaster and white paint flying everywhere.

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The creature was a bunny on top but had human legs.  I became petrified at the impossibility of it all and dropped the flashlight. It rolled the length of the floor, stopping with a thud at the wall. I sensed him pressing his ear to the house, and I pressed my ear too and heard him breathing. It wasn’t the sound of a docile bunny and my knobby knees knocked together in fear.

“Bunny?” I said through the wall.

“Johnny, take care of your sister and your Grandmother
and find Lenny…” I heard him say.

“Who is Lenny?” I asked the void. The creature
wasn’t standing there anymore.

 His name was the Hazamann. My father explained to me when I was small. His name meant “Hare-man in German. He’s what most people call the Easter Bunny.” My father knew this because the whole notion of the creature came from Germany to Pennsylvania with Immigrants in the 1700’s and my father himself was a white German Immigrant.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing out there. The huge rabbit beast was retreating, the entire encounter lasted three minutes tops, but it changed my life forever. The vines, flowers and foliage withdrew into the walls and were gone, like nothing had even happened. Some of the peace stayed though, which is a mystery to me.

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My mama had been the real magic in my life when I was a boy. I remember her reading me
the James Bond novel, CASINO ROYALE the year she died, it was 1953.

I adored mama. She smelled like home, like baby powder and Oxydol soap and was loving and kind. We were all alone without her, my sister Hattie and me. That old red covered bridge just couldn’t carry the weight of them and fell, cascading the black car, our loving parents, our family puppy “Night time,” and the romantic picnic down into the raging waters below.

“Johnny!” Hattie yelled.  She must have heard the Hazamann’s motorcycle
too. We never woke up on Easter’s eve.
I wondered if he revved the engine on purpose to wake us up as he rode back
through the portal door.

“Shhhh, you’re going to wake Grandmama up
with your carrying on.” I said to Hattie. She came to my side of the room. We pressed
our ears to the wall in unison. “See, I think he’s leaving.”

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“I’m scared.” Hattie said. She was only 6, so I didn’t make her feel bad for being a scaredy-cat. “It’s ok, I’ll protect you, I’m 007, remember, just like mama used to say?” It calmed her.

“I wish Mama could see this.” Hattie said to me as we watched the portal disappear into thin air. A few magical sparkles were all that were left, and she smiled from ear to ear with excitement.

By the next Easter, LIVE AND LET DIE, the next
in the Bond series had been released and a copy was in my Easter basket. The
pages smelled so crisp and new. I received spy accessories to accompany my book
and Hattie got a new puppy.

“I’ll name him ‘Night’ since he’s black as my other doggie used to be…he’s a German Shepherd Johnny. He can help us find your bad guys! Things are going to get much better now, I just know it.”

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“I think so too.” I said, wiping my eyes. “What else did you get?” Both of us stopped as Hattie lifted it up. A new bottle of mama’s perfume. Hattie sprayed it into the air, and we took it in hungrily. Nostalgia and love poured into us from our eager little noses to our dancing, happy feet. Grandmama watched us and smiled with a lost sense of joy. She recognized the smell too and she started to cry.

“Look kids, I know I haven’t been the best Grandmama
to you, but I am going to try. I bet you didn’t know that your Grandmama could
cook?”

“I thought all you knew how to do was eat.”
Hattie said since she had been the one making all the sandwiches since mama had
gone.

“Well, I suppose I deserve that. Today is as good a day as any to show you how it’s really done. They don’t need me at church till 2pm.” She said and she started to cook. It was Easter and she was really getting into the spirit of it. She cooked and cooked and cooked. The house was filled with sweet and savory smells and there was music playing and laughter in the air and then suddenly a knock at the door.

Grandmama answered it.

“Rose.” An older man standing at the door said
and took his hat off, lowering his eyes.

“Lenny, is that you?” Grandmama dropped the
kitchen towel she was holding and ran up to the man. He dropped his hat and
they embraced.  

“…But I haven’t seen you in 10 years. I was
afraid that you were killed in battle…or worse, ran off and found you another woman.”

“Johnny found me, Rose…for the life of me, I
don’t know how, but he did and now here I am.” Lenny smiled. I didn’t think you
wanted me…you were a big jazz star and I was nothin’ but a soldier, too proud
to come on back home after the war ended.”

“Did you do this Johnny?” Grandmama said.

“Yes, it wasn’t as hard to find him as I
thought. You can find just about anything at the library. Mama taught me that.”
I said.

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“She was always a smart one, my Imogene.” Lenny said, hanging his head again. He started to cry, great big crocodile tears. Maybe because he was so glad to be found. Maybe because his baby girl had died. I wasn’t sure, but there was love in our house again that morning. We sang and we ate, and we accompanied our grandparents to church where Lenny was welcomed with hardy slaps on the back by familiar faces. Grandmama was on the piano. Honestly, I didn’t know what awakening happiness looked like…but I saw it that day. She had come back from the dead that morning. She had a twinkle in her eye. Joy poured from her fingers and we all felt it.