The Author with her daughter and inspiration, Autumn Renee, Dec. 2010.

This photo was recently taken at my father’s 80th Birthday party.  We happily traveled to NJ to attend and enjoyed showing our children NYC during the holidays. The Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree and ice-skaters are wonderful (and  for me….the city is all about the shopping and pretzels). My present to my dad was the story I wrote, “The Wise Words of a Feline Friend.”  I hope you enjoy it as much as he did.

Riley lived alone in a small cabin, which overlooked a quiet lake.  There was a time when he’d take long walks in the woods, fish in the water, and grow fresh vegetables in the garden.  From his fruit trees, he’d make delicious pies which he’d drive into town to sell at the local market.  Riley would call his children every day, send the occasional email, and brush his two cats, Oscar and Orion, with much enthusiasm. Now the garden was overgrown and the fruit trees diseased.  His kitchen was as dusty as the flour he’d once used for his pies and his fishing gear was put away.  His computer sat covered in the corner and his answering message was full of un-played messages.  Oscar and Orion were still brushed but Riley’s strokes were listless and their fur lost its shine.  Mostly Riley would sit on the front porch for hours, just looking out at the trees and listening to the sounds of the forest.  Evenings, he’d heat canned soup and read history books by candlelight.

Riley was not an old man.  He’d worked hard and fast and earned an early fortune which brought security for his family.  He’d amicably parted from his last wife, sold his company, and retired to this cabin with a few good decades of living ahead of him. Riley should have been happy and grateful but, for whatever reason, he wasn’t.  He’d lost his appreciation for life and was letting time waste away. 

One particular night, following yet another day on the porch, Riley was heating broth when he heard a knock on the door.  At first he ignored it but the knocking became insistent.  Annoyed, he switched off the burner and opened the door.  Standing in the doorway stood a woman with a very unusual appearance.  She was disturbingly thin with pale, almost transparent skin. Her eyes burned black and her hair was a mantle of flaming red.  A long gray cloak covered her which draped to the floor.

“What can I do for you?” Riley asked the strange woman.

“May I please come in?” she asked in a low voice, “There’s been an accident and I’d like to use your phone.” 

Riley paused for a moment.  For whatever reason, he felt strongly that he didn’t want to let her into the house. 

“Please?”  She asked. “I just want to call for help.”

 He sighed and opened the door wider.  “I suppose if there was an accident, then it’s all right.”

As she glided into the house, Riley was disturbed to notice how incredibly tall she was – probably the tallest person he’d ever seen.

“Was anyone hurt?” Riley inquired.

The woman stopped and looked at him.

“In the accident…was someone hurt?”  He asked again. 

She hesitated a moment before slowly replying. “Yes.  I rather think they were, but I think they’ll be all right.”

Riley gestured to the phone and went back into the kitchen to put his soup back on. Stirring the broth, he felt uneasy.  When he didn’t hear her talking he went back into the living room to see what she was doing.  The woman was standing in the center of the room, staring at a candle he’d lit earlier.  She looked up at him and, once more, he felt uncomfortable – almost…afraid. 

“Did you make your calls?  Were you able to get some help?”  He asked.

“I love candles” she said, turning her black eyes toward him.  They were like pools of ink poured into the hollows of her face.

“I know you like them too Riley.” She said.

Riley took a step backwards, towards the kitchen. “I didn’t tell you my name.” He said slowly, “How do you know who I am?”

The woman smiled.  “It’s not important how I know you.  What matters is why I’m here and what I’m going to do to you.” she said.

“Look, accident or not, I’d really like you to leave” Riley responded, walking to open the door, “Now.”

 “Oh I’m not going anywhere Riley,” she replied, “In fact, from what I’ve learned about you, I rather think I’ll be here awhile.”

She reached into her cloak and took out a twisted stick.  Carved into it were words and strange symbols that Riley couldn’t make out.  She pointed the stick at him with one hand and Riley was startled to see her put her other hand directly into the flame of the candle.

“And now, it’s your turn to call for help” she said.

Before Riley could react to her words, a stream of light came from the stick and hit him straight in the chest.  He felt a horrible burning sensation and cried out in pain. His body felt as if it was on fire and he was blinded by the brightness which consumed him. Before he lost consciousness, he felt as if his body was folding into itself, almost…melting

When Riley regained awareness, he was horribly hot and his limbs felt bound to his body.  He no longer had eyes to open but somehow still had sight.  He saw things through a bright, flickering light – candlelight, he realized with shock.  Horrified, Riley realized he no longer had a body but was somehow part of the candle.  Trapped in a wax prison, he burned. 

He heard laughter and the woman came into focus, although now she looked different.  She wore simple clothing and her wild red hair was tucked neatly into a bun. “Well Riley,” she said, “I hope you’re comfortable.”

She went into his kitchen and he heard the sounds of soup being prepared.  Riley couldn’t speak and slowly lost consciousness again.

When Riley woke again, his candle was out and the cabin was cool and quiet.  From the sunlight coming through the window, he could tell it was early morning. He heard a humming outside and movement in the garden.  This continued for some time and eventually, there was a step on the porch and the front door opened.  The woman entered and was carrying his gardening tools.  Dirt was smeared on her forehead and she was perspiring, as if she’d been hard at work.

“You should really be ashamed of yourself Riley,” She reprimanded him. “That garden will take me weeks to bring back.”

She shook her head, “And all that beautiful basil gone to seed.”

She put down her tools and went into the utility room, where he heard the sound of running water.  Later that day, she swept the porch clean and brushed Oscar and Orion until they gleamed. When the cats were snapping in a spot of sun, she took out flour and apples and began to make a pie. 

“Riley, you have seriously neglected those fruit trees.  I’ve done what I could do save them and for now, bought a bushel of apples in town to make a few treats.”  She continued talking to him as she made pies, turnovers, and strudel.  As the sun set, she tossed aside his history books and uncovered his laptop. 

“Time to get reconnected with the world,” she said, “I’m going to poke around on this machine for awhile but first, want to make the room cozy.”  Striking a match, she leaned over him.  While it didn’t hurt this time, Riley was sickened by the sensation of part of him dripping away. 

In the days that followed, the woman fished in his lake and brought her baked goods into town for sale. 

“I made some good friends there Riley,” she said, “I explained you’d gone away somewhere warm and I was staying in at your place until you got back.” 

She laughed and leaned forward to smell his candle.  “Not bad. Although truthfully Riley, I prefer a scent that’s a bit more vanilla.” 

For the next few weeks, things continued much the same way.  The woman took over his cabin and his world, doing all the things which he should have done.  During the day she baked pies, tended the garden, cared for his cats, and made friends in town. While each night, she burned a little more of him away.

Riley was trapped and helpless. He could do nothing but watch the woman and lament his loss.  Anxiously he’d wait for the setting sun, knowing that in the evenings, he’d melt down, smaller and smaller.

When all that was left of Riley was a blackened wick in a small pool of wax the woman drew close and looked at him. 

“Well Riley, it looks like this is it for you,” She said, “You’re really going to go out in a blaze, but I wouldn’t say there’s much glory.”

“Although when you think about it Riley,” She continued, “These last few weeks weren’t that much different than before my visit. You were still letting your life waste away but this time, I did it for you.”

She sighed, “It would all be such a shame,” she continued, “Unless, of course, you’ve learned something from this.”

With one hand she took out the twisted stick and with the other, touched the match to him.  What once had been Riley Wickham, the candle, faded away in a final flame.

When Riley next opened his eyes he was back in his body! The cabin was empty, the sun shining bright, and the woman was gone.  Indeed there was no sign that she’d ever been there at all.

In the days and years that followed, Riley approached his life with vigor.  Gone were empty days and he valued every minute that he had.  Riley went back to work as a part-time consultant for his former company.  He also became a professional fisherman, who traveled the world with his fluffy companions, Oscar and Orion. Back at the cabin, he cultivated an apple orchard of fruit-trees which yielded crops that people would come to pick in season. During his visits, he’d bake pies that he’d bring to the town’s farmer’s market, along with baskets of fresh-grown vegetables. In the evenings, Riley would make himself a hearty dinner – never soup, and wrote down plans of all the places he wanted to go and things to do.  Riley’s ambitions took him far and wide; however he always came back to his small cabin in the woods, on shores of the peaceful lake.  He appreciated the lesson he learned from the woman and going back served as a reminder to live the rest of his days to the fullest.  When asked, he’d tell people “Being here lit a fire in me.  One which I hope never goes out.”

Copyright Cathy Predmore, 2010. All rights reserved.

Joseph’s faithful companion was his cat, a big gray and white tabby named Morris.  Morris stayed by his side, keeping him company throughout the day, and was a source of great contentment. 

One morning after brushing Morris, he looked at him and said, “I’m an old man now Morris and I don’t like it one bit.  I have a big birthday coming up – eighty.”  He paused for a moment and exclaimed, “Shit, I don’t even like the sound of it.”  Joseph sighed and said, “What I wouldn’t do to have 9 lives like you, my friend.”

Morris turned to look at him and, to Joseph’s shock, he replied.

 “Joe, I would rather trade 8 of my lives, to have just one like yours.”

Joseph quickly dropped the brush and stood up.  “My god,” he exclaimed, “I must be losing my mind.” Frightened, he started towards the door to call for his wife.

“Wait Joe!” Morris continued, “Nothing is wrong with you.  Think for a minute, you’ve always known cats are better than people.  Well, you were right!  We are.”

Joseph paused for a moment and said, “Assuming that’s true, and I’m not going crazy, why talk to me now?  Why wait for all these years?” 

Morris replied, “Honestly Joe, I haven’t needed to speak to you before now.  You’ve always taken wonderful care of me.  You’ve given me special food, kept my water-bowl full, and brushed me just the way I like it.  You even make the trip to the litter box every day.  I can’t stay silent,” he continued, “Because I really hate to see you depressed, especially for all the wrong reasons.”

“What do you know about my reasons Morris?”  Joseph asked, sitting back down next to his friend.

Morris answered, “You are letting your age get you down and think you don’t have much time ahead of you. With all due respect Joe, I know you’re smart (I sit there when you do all those math problems) but you really have no idea.  Nobody ever knows how long they have in their life- not even you.”

Joseph thought for a moment and conceded, “I know you’re right Morris.  I just don’t like the feeling of being old.  It’s not very…pleasant.”

 “Look Joe,” Morris said, “You are in better shape than owners I’ve had who were decades younger than you.  I’ve lived with men in their 50’s and 60’s who can’t jog like you do, are three times your size, and in poor health. Heck, even I’m pretty overweight (not that I want you to cut down on my food).”

 “I’m fortunate to be in good health,” Joseph replied. “But I still can’t count on a life beyond this one.”

Morris said, “Look, I’ve had it easy with you and I really hope my other lives will be the same.  However, in some I could be a stray and then I won’t be very happy and certainly won’t reach eighty!  More importantly, I won’t do anything of real value and will be loved by just a few. While you on the other hand,” Morris explained, “Have done very important things in this one life of yours and been loved by many people.”

He went on, “Both your parents adored you, while I never even knew my father and my mother only stayed with me a short time.  I was really just abandoned in an alley before someone finally took me to the shelter where your wife found me.  Even after all these years, I’ve never fully gotten over it.”

“I always said you had a hard start Morris,” Joseph said, “But that’s the way it is for cats sometimes and unfortunately life isn’t always fair.”

“True,” acknowledged Morris, “But the great thing about any bad situation is that it can always get better. Who would’ve thought a scared kitten from an alley could end up on this comfortable couch talking to you? ”

He went on, “Unlike me, as a human you’ve had great friends; however, if I see another cat the last thing I want is to befriend it.  You’ve even had one friendship which has lasted over sixty years!” 

“That’d be Anthony,” conceded Joseph, “Did I ever tell you how we met?  I heard him playing the piano back when we were boys in Brooklyn and we became friends right away.”  Joseph smiled at the memory.

“You’ve been a soldier Joe, who served his country and traveled the world!” said Morris, “My only journey has been from couch, to food bowl, and back again.  And we both know that’s hardly a trip I’ll be saluted for taking,” Morris said.

“Being in the army changed me in so many ways Morris,” Joseph said, “It was good for me and taught me things I never would have learned staying in Brooklyn with my parents.”

Joseph laughed and said, “That reminds me Morris, sometime I’ll have to tell you about my French girlfriend.”

“That’s something else you have over me Joe,” Morris replied, “I’ve never had a girlfriend and, not that I hold this against you, but don’t even want one thanks to that little operation you gave me awhile back.

“You’ve also been a terrific teacher who influenced the lives of many thousands of students during your career, “Morris pointed out, “Now that’s an amazing accomplishment!”

“Well I enjoyed the subject matter Morris,” Joseph explained, “And was happy to share it with others.” 

“Speaking of the subject Joe,” Morris said, “Mathematics has interested you for your whole life, while I get tired of chasing a toy mouse after only a few minutes. I wish I had something I enjoyed like that and so do many humans.”

“Now that I know you can talk Morris, maybe I can try showing you some simple math,” Joseph offered.

 “Thanks, but I’d rather sit on your paper or knock a pen onto the floor.  I may talk but am still a cat” Morris replied, “And did you forget you are a musician? You’ve played the piano since you were a child. In fact, anytime I hear Rhapsody in Blue – in this life or next, I’ll think of you. The only music I make is by meowing, which most people don’t think isn’t very musical.”

“My wife would probably agree with that Morris.”  Joseph admitted.

 “And where you’re really fortunate is in your family Joe.  You’ve been married for over forty years, while I’m a lone cat. You have two grown children who love you as their parent and like you even more as their friend,” Morris said, “I’ve never had kittens and, even if I do in another life, it won’t be in my nature to know them.”

“In that I couldn’t agree with you more Morris,” Joseph said, “I’ve always said a man without a family doesn’t have much of anything.”

“And don’t forget your grandchildren Joe,” Morris said, “You have five who are crazy about their grandpa.”

“I do love them,” Joseph said with a smile, “One of my grand-daughters is even a cat-lover like me Morris.”

He paused and said, “Look, I know I’ve been very lucky.  I’m grateful for my family and they give me a lot of happiness. But Morris, it’s thinking of what’s ahead that gets to me,” Joseph explained, “Or worse…what might not be ahead.”

Morris replied, “Joe, we’ve been friends for a long time and hopefully will be together for many more years.  However, it’s not likely I’ll speak to you again so think carefully about what I’m saying now.  You know you’re fortunate to have lived such a wonderful life.  But you need to believe that you still have many possibilities for the future. Approach each day with enthusiasm and look forward – not backwards. Nobody ever knows how much time they have so make the most of yours!  What will be at the end is a great mystery; however, it may very well be a new beginning. It may turn out that you do have another 8 lives or even more….only time will tell.” 

Joseph sat quietly for awhile thinking about what had happened.  Then he got up, brushed himself off and said, “Morris, on a day when cats can talk, I have to believe that anything really is possible.” Then he smiled and said with resolve, “I might as well listen to you.”

Morris jumped down from the couch and Joseph said, “Morris wait!  Promise me one last thing.”

 “What’s that Joe?” Morris asked, looking back over his shoulder.

“Before my 90^th birthday, I think we’re going to have to talk again.”

Morris gave a meow of agreement and walked out the door.  

Copyright Cathy Predmore, 2010.  All rights reserved.

Cathy and John Predmore, Nov.2009

I hope everyone had a wonderful and very happy Thanksgiving! We spent it surrounded by family with lots of laughter, turkey, and stuffing. I’ve been busy with professional obligations but have a new idea for a short fiction story that I hope to develop soon. Check my blog in spring of 2010 and I should have it ready for readers.  Take care and HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

Dylan was sitting at the kitchen table, working on painting a pirate ship in the middle of the ocean.  He dipped his brush in the water, swirled it in the blue and white paint, and pressed it into the paper.  While Dylan worked he thought about pirates. At first, he didn’t notice that he was getting wet.  A soft, salty spray was hitting his face but he brushed it off and kept painting.  When he made more brush strokes, even more water splattered at him. By the time that he felt wind it was too late.  The painting was growing larger in front of him, stretching out in all directions, while he felt himself growing smaller and moving towards the picture.  He was pulled forward, tumbling through the air until he landed with a splash into the ocean he’d just painted a pretty shade of turquoise.

Dylan splashed in the water in a panic.  Right next to him was the pirate ship but instead of being empty, there were angry pirates on deck looking right at him!  He started to swim as fast as he could away from the ship, towards an island ahead.  When he made it to the beach, he collapsed and caught his breath.  The ship wasn’t coming after him so he looked around the island and liked what he saw.  There was a white sand beach, tall palm trees, and not a scrap of homework anywhere.  He decided to relax and stay for a while.  Dylan made a hut on the beach from branches and palm leaves. He ate juicy pineapple, drank sweet coconut milk, and swam with dolphins. At night he’d lie on the warm sand and gaze up at the stars. 

After awhile, Dylan felt ready to go home.  He missed his parents, his little sister Autumn, and their cat Simba. The problem was that he didn’t know how to get home.  He built a signal fire on the beach but no planes came by.  He thought about building a raft but he had no idea which direction to go. There wasn’t even a bottle that he could put a message in. Then it occurred to him…if a picture brought him there, maybe another one could take him back. At low tide, Dylan took a stick and drew in the damp sand. He made a picture of his house and family.  As he was making the last marks on the roof, he felt a pull.  He kept at the drawing, adding more details, and by the time he finished the front door he saw it start to move.  The door was getting bigger and growing wider and Dylan felt himself becoming smaller and lighter.  The sand door opened up and into it, he disappeared. 

When Dylan looked around next, he was back in his own kitchen.  “Wow,” he thought, “That was amazing!”

His mom came in and said, “Dylan, it’s time to clean up. We’re going to eat dinner soon.” 

“Mom, aren’t you mad at me?”  He asked.  “Mad?” She replied, “Why would I be? Didn’t you do your homework?”  “I did,” he answered, “But…I kind of went away for a while.”  “You did?  She said, “Well it couldn’t have been for very long because you were sitting right there a few minutes ago.”

Then she looked over his shoulder at his painting. “That’s a really great painting Dylan,” she said, “It looks so real!”

“You know mom,” Dylan said thoughtfully, “I feel exactly the same way.”

Later that night he was lying in bed and thought about what had happened.  He’d had a wonderful time on his island adventure and, when he got back, it was like no time had passed.  He couldn’t wait to make another picture to see if it would happen again.

The next day after school, Dylan sat down and started to make a picture…of dinosaurs!  He’d always wanted to see the land of the lost in person. He drew a big, wide sky over a huge, grass-covered valley. He added tall trees and a volcano in the background.  He had finished a Brachiosaurus and was starting to paint a Triceratops when he felt the first tug of the picture.  He kept painting and by the time he finished coloring the third horn, the pulling sensation happened again.  Excited and inspired, he painted faster and faster.  He was adding a Pterodactyl flying through the air when the power from the painting pulled Dylan forward with a lurch.  He saw the volcano rising up towards him and started to panic, knocking over his water. Dylan tried to move back but the force was too strong.  He closed his eyes as the ancient world grew and rose in front of him. Back in the kitchen, the water spilled over the table and on the picture but, by then, Dylan was already gone.

Dylan opened his eyes to the green valley he’d painted and caught his breath.  Right there next to him was the massive Brachiosaurus!  He had seen their skeletons in the museum but was still surprised by its incredible size. He watched it eat leaves on treetops for a while but then it stopped and looked up.  It didn’t see Dylan but seemed to sense something else.  The giant dinosaur was backing up, making the ground tremble.  Dylan lost his footing for a moment and fell into the tall grass. While he was down he heard the roar.  He put his hands over his ears to block the horrible sound and tried to press himself deeper into the grass.  The ground shook even more and the air was filled with the roaring, snarling of a large, angry Tyrannosaurus!  The massive meat-eater came into the clearing with Dylan and the Brachiosaurus and the T-Rex started to fight.  Dylan turned and ran as fast as he could in the other direction, keeping low to the shaking ground.  He ran until his legs felt like falling off but could still hear the bellowing of the Brachiosaurus as the T-Rex took it down and began to eat its meal. 

Dylan collapsed against a tree and tried to figure out what happened.  “I didn’t draw a T-Rex,” he thought, “The only meat-eater I made was just a flying….” As Dylan was finishing his thought a large shadow passed over him, from above.  He realized he’d better get out of there quickly because he’d look like a tasty treat to a Pterodactyl!  He picked up a sharp rock and started to scratch a picture of his home into the bark of the tree.  It was hard work and the shadow passed over his head again.  “Come on!” Dylan thought, “Details, details.” Dylan was putting in figures of his family when he heard the screech of the flying reptile as it spotted him. Dylan carved deeper into the tree and finally finished his front door.   The Pterodactyl was swooping down just as the door started to move on the bark.  “Yes!” Dylan thought. It was definitely getting bigger.  The carved door grew and stretched, until it was as large as Dylan.  As he was pulled into the door, he heard the massive beak snap behind him.

Dylan opened his eyes and let out a deep breath when he was back in his kitchen. 

His sister Autumn came into the room and said, “Look at this mess Dylan.  You better clean it up before mom sees.”  Dylan looked down and saw the spilled water in a puddle under the table.

 “Oh no!” Autumn cried, “Your dinosaur picture is ruined!”  The water had spilled into the picture and all the colors had run together.

“That’s ok,” He said, “I didn’t really like this one anyway.”  He started to mop up the mess.

It was a few days before Dylan got up the courage to make another picture.  He missed painting but could still hear the roar of the T-Rex when trying to go to sleep at night.  After a while, he decided the safest thing to do was paint a picture of somewhere there wasn’t anything scary like…. outer-space!  He had dreamed about being an astronaut and seeing the stars. Encouraged by his new idea, Dylan sat down in front of the blank paper.  After making his sketch, he started to paint.  He dipped his brush into the yellow and painted the bright shining sun. He used white for the twinkling stars and bright colors when adding as many planets as he could remember.  Dylan rinsed his brush after he painted the earth and remembered a rocket ship.  He started to outline it when he heard his mom and dad coming.  He didn’t want to stop to do homework and really wanted to visit space. So Dylan forgot about the ship, dipped the brush in black, and quickly filled in the rest of painting.  Soon he felt himself getting lighter and floating out of his chair – no gravity!  The dark quiet of space spilled over onto Dylan as he drifted into the painting. 

When he looked around, he saw he was wearing a spacesuit.  Dylan was floating in space and it was beautiful. He spun around laughing, amazed at all the celestial sights.  He saw the bright glow of the sun, the moon, and sparkling stars.  Best of all was the soft green and blue of Earth. Dylan knew he’d never forget seeing his home planet from outer space.  He drifted for a while, happy to be in the marvelous Milky Way.  

Dylan felt he’d seen enough and wanted to go home and tell his family about his special adventures.  What he’d seen was so incredible that he wanted to share it with them (although he might leave out the part about the Pterodactyl when telling his mom). Dylan reached for a pencil, a rock, or even a stick but didn’t have anything.  He ran his fingers over his space suit but there weren’t any pockets.  Worried, he tried to draw an outline of his house but it didn’t work.  He realized he was all alone, floating in outer space with no way of getting home. Dylan twisted and turned and tried to push himself towards Earth but instead he floated in the opposite direction, headed towards deep, dark space.  Tears filled his eyes as he watched the planet growing smaller in front of him and his family becoming further and further away.

Suddenly, warm arms were around him, holding him tight.  It was his dad in a space suit!  His father was attached to a line connected to the rocket he’d started to draw. “It’s ok Dylan, I’ve got you” his dad said.

“Dad!” Dylan cried, hugging him tight, “I was so scared! How did you find me?”

“It was easy,” he said, “I finished your picture. Remember, I told you details were important – like that rocket ship.”  His dad held up a paper and pen and smiled, “Now let’s go home!”

After that, when Dylan made a painting he was sure to include everything. Through his pictures he journeyed to far away places, visited the past and the future, and sometimes went to worlds that existed only to him. However,  Dylan made sure to keep a pencil in his hand and  the love of his family in his heart so he always came back home.

Copyright of this story Cathy Predmore, 2009.  All rights reserved.

One day he was scavenging for food when he was struck with a memory. It was of a young boy and girl laughing with a man. He searched his mind and more images came to him. He could envision the same boy, older now, throwing a baseball and playing a guitar. The boy and the man drew pictures together and shared stories at bedtime. Later he could see the boy grown and leaving for school, hugging the man who had gray in his hair. The sparrow saw the girl holding an orange cat and singing to herself in a pretty purple room. More memories came back of her playing a piano and running across a field of flowers jumping into his arms. Her hair was brown and she shinned in the sun, radiating happiness.

When the sparrow evoked the image of a woman, his bird’s heart beat rapidly against his breast and he almost fell from the sky. She had long dark hair and warm brown eyes that looked at him with longing. He knew in an instant that she was his forever love and all their memories together came flooding back to him. It was after seeing her in his minds-eye that he knew for certain that he had been a man and had to find his family.

It was time for sparrows to migrate but, rather than follow the others, this bird went in search of the people who haunted his mind and held his heart. He flew far from the land where he’d been born again, guided only by his senses. The small sparrow flew through several countries and glided over vast waters. His journey took many months. Finally the bird reached a street in a town which felt familiar. He spiraled downward and saw the house that he knew had been his; however, it looked older and things were different. He perched in a tree where he watched and waited. After a time, a car pulled in the driveway and a woman got out. When the sparrow saw her, he wept. Tears spilled out of his eyes, wetting his feathers and running down his beak. The woman had been his daughter but she was much older than the shinning girl he’d remembered. He realized many years must have passed from the time he’d been a man and when he was born as a bird. His daughter was no longer young and he believed his wife was gone. Hope of finding his love faded and the sparrow folded his wings over himself in sorrow.

It was many days before he raised his head. The sparrow was still mourning his wife but was growing curious about their daughter. He hoped the little girl of his heart was still happy. The bird watched her come and go. She kept many animals as pets and seemed content. When she would lie in a hammock, reading in the yard, he’d perch close to her. She noticed the bird and was kind. She put out seed for him to eat and sang to him in a soft voice, much like the child he remembered. The sparrow grew comforted being around her.

One day she had visitors. A man and woman arrived with three children, two boys and a girl. He realized with a start that the man was his son. His son carried his own daughter up on his shoulders and his boys followed behind their mother into the house. The sparrow perched close to the house on a bush. Eventually the door opened and his son and the older boy started to play a game of catch in the yard. The younger boy came out after them and pushed a toy bulldozer over the grass. The little boy got close to the bush and spotted the brown sparrow. The bird and the boy looked at each other for a meaningful moment before his son called the child over to him. The sparrow heard that the child had been named after him and was moved to see how he was remembered. When his son’s family left, the sparrow nestled quietly in the tree. Thinking about his children and grandchildren brought him a sense of peace. He stopped feeling sad for all he had lost and began to feel pleasure in what he had found.

On a warm day his daughter got into the car and the sparrow had the urge to follow her. He soared above until she reached a large building, surrounded by green fields and pretty gardens. He landed in the garden’s courtyard where there were many tables and benches filled with people. He noticed that they were very old. Some were talking quietly, while others played cards or read the newspaper in the soft sun.

He saw his daughter enter the courtyard and a woman who had been reading a book gestured to her. The woman was quite old with white hair pinned loosely in a bun and dressed in flowing clothes. As she called his daughter over, the sparrow noticed a ring on her finger catch the light. His hard beat wildly as he recognized the ring and knew the woman. It was his wife. She was alive and living in this place! He looked more closely saw how much she’d changed with the passing of  time. Her once smooth skin was heavily wrinkled and the dark hair he remembered was white. She had always moved quickly but now her movements were slow and unsteady. However her smile was the same, as was the dark warmth of her eyes. She was still beautiful to the sparrow.

Now that he had found her, the jubilant bird couldn’t bear to leave her side. He built a nest in a tree in their garden and planned to stay by her until the end of his days. He watched her talk to others and saw their children come and go. Their grand-daughter visited with pictures she had drawn and their grandsons would tell her tales of their baseball games and adventures.

Her routine was quiet and sometimes, when she was alone, she would take out his picture and stare at it for awhile. Her fingers would trace over his face and she’d sigh and gaze out into the distance. During those times, he flew into her sight hoping she’d sense he was near. Indeed she would smile when seeing the earnest brown bird but then returned her gaze to the photograph.

The sparrow stayed for many months until the day came when he saw her stumble and fall. After that, it was a while before she came outside. When she finally did, it was in a wheelchair. She seemed smaller and quieter. She didn’t read her books anymore and spent a lot of time simply sitting still. Then she didn’t come out again. His children didn’t return and, when he flew to their old house, he saw his daughter crying softly because her mother was gone.

The sparrow took to the air with heavy heart. He flew high and far and wondered why he was brought back if only to lose her again. Many days passed as the sparrow fluttered listlessly and grieved. One day he saw something coming towards him in the distance and realized it was another bird. It drew nearer and he observed it was a sparrow and something about it was very familiar. It was flying fast and hard in his direction, soaring across the sky. When the other sparrow reached his side he looked into its dark eyes and was filled with the sweetest joy. It was the sparrow’s wife. He now knew why he was brought back as a bird. It was so their spirits could soar together, side-by-side, against the setting sun.

Copyright of this story Cathy Predmore, 2009.  All rights reserved.

I am inspired by them and by my nephews, my niece, and other children I’ve been fortunate  enough to meet along the way. Other stories come directly from my childhood experiences and things that I wish might have been.

Wherever possible, I incorporated nature into my tales and a life lesson. I at my personal happiest when out among nature – be it hiking a wooded path, gazing at a favorite lake, or picnicking near fields of wildflowers. I try to have my characters interact with nature in a meaningful way, feature natural elements and animals as characters,  or include it as a special part of the background.

My primary goal of a story is for the children who inspired them to feel special and all readers to finish them with a smile.

Raina often looked down at the land, as it rushed up to meet her rainbow.  She wondered about the people she’d glimpse and their way of life.  She knew it surely was different from hers in the heavens.  Raina thought mankind must not have much color in his life or be very happy.  She knew people on earth didn’t always appreciate nature which was why she existed as a rider.

While Raina was curious, she belonged to the elements and followed their rules.  She believed in the order of the world and accepted her place within it. The most important rule was that a rainbow rider is only felt and never seen by anyone on the ground below.  No rider ever broke this rule, until the day that Raina fell off the end of her rainbow and into the village of Yorn. 

Travelers passing through the village of Yorn remember a charming place, filled with kind people who enjoy life’s simple pleasures. They start their day with a warm drink and greet one another with a smile. Yorn sits nestled in between two large mountains whose tops are covered in a soft purple mist.

One particular day, it had rained for a time over the village, giving the soil a soft, steady drink.  After awhile, the rain stopped, the clouds cleared, and the sun shinned its light through the moist village air. 

Boris the baker was hurrying home to take a cake out of the oven, when he’d paused to see a pretty rainbow in the distance.  He had been quite cross that day, after having burned two batches of bread in his new oven; however he felt delight upon seeing the rainbow and forgot all about the blackened buns. 

The postman, Mr. Potter, was wrestling with his packages and dropped them in a puddle with a big splash.  Frustrated, he picked them up and was shaking off the wet parcels when he spied the rainbow.  When his eyes settled on the soft colors curving above, he smiled and no longer cared about the damp boxes in his hands.

Also seeing the rainbow that day was little Grace Elizabeth, who was having a birthday party that afternoon.  Grace Elizabeth was a happy girl, who enjoyed painting with water colors and eating fresh peaches.  She had big blue eyes and bouncy brown curls and would play for hours with Clementine, her fat orange cat. Her mother was waiting for the baker to finish Grace Elizabeth’s cake while she decorated the house with pretty bows and balloons.  Grace Elizabeth was sitting at the garden gate, picking some flowers to bring inside, when she saw the shimmering colors above. She felt a rush of joy and a sudden swoosh in the air around her.  A light seemed to be coming down from the sky, like a small sun, and she closed her eyes against its brightness.

Grace Elizabeth heard a thump in the direction of the rose bush and opened her eyes. She looked at the bush and its leaves were shaking and branches quivering as if something landed in it.  She went over to the bush and saw the most amazing thing!  Inside there was a luminous girl, about her size, who looked very strange. She was dressed in flowing robes of swirling colors which were radiating light. The girl had soft violet eyes, long golden hair which floated around her in a sunny cloud, and skin the lightest shade of pink. The girl was startled to see Grace Elizabeth and very surprised to be in the rose bush.

 “Don’t be afraid,” Grace Elizabeth said to the girl, “Everything is all right. What is your name? Do you need help getting out of that bush?”  The girl just looked at Grace Elizabeth but didn’t seem frightened. 

“Can you talk?  Do you understand me?”  Grace Elizabeth asked.

The girl nodded her head and then said hesitantly, “Yes, I do. I’ve heard all of the languages of the world because my rainbows have appeared everywhere.”  She stood up and carefully freed herself from the bush.  Rays of light shinned through the air as she shook rose petals out her golden hair.

Grace Elizabeth was enchanted by the girl’s bright beauty. “What is your name?” she asked, “Are you some sort of sorceress?”

“My name is Raina,” the girl said proudly, “I am a rainbow rider. We live in the sky above and share the joy of our journey down the rainbow with mankind.  My rainbow led me here but I slid too quickly and must have fallen off.” She said with some surprise. “It’s never happened to me before.” She explained.

Raina looked at wide-eyed Grace Elizabeth, “What do they call you here?  And where is this place that I’ve landed?”

 “My name is Grace Elizabeth,” she answered, “And this is the village of Yorn. I didn’t know rainbows had riders but I’m very pleased to meet you.” 

Raina thought for a moment. “I very much like the purple mist around your mountains and the blue of your eyes.  I wonder” she continued, “Do you think I could look around a bit before I go back? I’ve only seen the ground before from a distance.”   She glanced up at the sky for a moment but all seemed quiet. 

Grace Elizabeth was delighted to spend time with this special girl.  “Of course you can,” she said. “I am even having a birthday party today and would love for you to come.  I’ve never seen anyone like you before.”

“You are not supposed to see me,” laughed Raina, “You’re just meant to feel what I am feeling. However, I would very much like to stay anyway….just this once.”

The two girls smiled at one another then Grace Elizabeth took Raina’s hand. The new friends walked around the pretty garden. Raina marveled at all the colors.  She lay on green grass and laughed at yellow bees buzzing on pink flowers.  She tasted sweet red strawberries and ran her fingers through rich brown soil. She paused to pet orange Clementine and put her face up to the wind.  Raina smiled, “The wind feels the same here as it does in the sky.” She said happily.

The rest of that afternoon, they talked about their lives and shared the secrets in their hearts, as only young girls can do. Raina described how it was to live in the sky and the joy she felt as a rider.  Grace Elizabeth told of the caring people in Yorn and how happy she was with her parents, friends, and Clementine.

When it came time for Grace Elizabeth’s party, Raina climbed up into a big oak tree which sat in the backyard and overlooked the house.  “I cannot allow more people to see me.” She explained to Grace Elizabeth. “However, I would like to stay here and watch for awhile.  After your party, it will be time for me to go.”

Storm clouds were gathering and Raina knew, after the rain, a rainbow will be sent for her to ride home. 

From her seat in the tree, Raina heard Grace Elizabeth’s friends and family sing a birthday song. She saw them give her pretty presents and embrace Grace Elizabeth with happy hugs.  Raina was touched by the warmth and love they had for her friend. Grace Elizabeth snuck out of the house and handed up into the tree a piece of Boris’ birthday cake.  Raina tasted the soft yellow cake and smiled with delight as the sugary frosting melted in her mouth.

After the last of the revelers, called their good-byes to Grace Elizabeth and the rain stopped, Raina floated down from the tree. A rainbow could be seen in the distance. 

“Do you really have to go Raina? There is so much more I want to show you.” Grace Elizabeth said.

Raina replied, “You have already taught me so much.  I thought mankind didn’t have  happiness or color in his world and I was wrong.  You also showed me how very special it is to have a friend and I will take that feeling back up into the sky with me.”

Raina embraced Grace Elizabeth.  “Whenever you see a rainbow, think of me.”  With that, she left Grace Elizabeth’s garden and went down the path which led out of the village, in search of the rainbow’s end.

Time passed and Grace Elizabeth grew up in Yorn but she never forgot about Raina.  She remembered the reason for riders and learned to not just look at nature but to feel from it.  Grace Elizabeth closed her eyes to the beauty of a breeze and let sunshine warm both her skin and spirit.  She reflected on raindrops and smiled seeing a sunrise.  Grace Elizabeth was filled with joy and didn’t need the emotions of a rider. However, when she saw a rainbow she would feel something unlike anyone else–the closeness of a friend.

The Rainbow Rider, Illustrated by Hannah Inglez

Copyright of this story Cathy Predmore, 2009.  All rights reserved.