I kicked rocks in the wash behind my house. Suspended! Mrs. Brough never believes me. ” I didn’t steal Joey’s stupid moonstones!” A ghost appeared from nowhere. I staggered and fell backward on my butt.

The spirit looked like a coyote, but it stood on its hind legs like a human. It asked in a yippy voice, “Are you Niko Hanson?”

“Um… Yeah, how’d ya know? Who’re you?”

“My name is Fintan, but I’m also called the White Coyote. I’ve been sent to bring you to Druse Hollow. Now, please follow me.” Fintan jumped between the wash’s cement barrier and a fallen tree branch, then vanished

I flinched. My heart pounded as I crept closer. A thin layer of swirling, iridescent colors, like a soap bubble covered the ground where he’d disappeared. I got down on my hands and knees for a closer look. Yep, it looks and smells like a soap bubble. Weird. I reached out and touched it.

Whoooosh!

Solid darkness, with frozen fingers, squeezed me until I thought I’d pop. Then the pressure was gone and I landed on the rock floor of a sphere. The walls sparkled with gems from an unknown light source. Another layer of soap bubble covered a spot that could be a door.

Beside Fintan, stood an elf. “Welcome to the sphere of transition. My name is Lyari. I’m in the service of the Glade Throne in Druse Hollow. We need your help.”

“Me? Um… Look, I’m just a twelve-year-old kid. What do you expect me to do?”

“The Whispering Wildwoods have taken Princess Shandrell. If any elf enters their forest, they will kill her. Only a human child can save our princess. Will you help us?”

“Me?” I covered my face with both hands. What did they expect me to do? I don’t have any weapons, but how often will I get the chance to rescue a real princess? I looked into Lyari’s eyes. “Okay, I’ll try.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I’ve enlisted Fintan to be your companion on this journey.”

I blew out a quick breath. Then with a nod, I followed Fintan through the bubble. The same frozen darkness squeezed me until I landed on the moss-covered ground beside Fintan. “Where are we?”

“We’re in the forest of the Whispering Wildwood.” He morphed into a large coyote with white fur. “While we’re in the forest, I must travel in my coyote form.”

I nodded. Enormous trees, each trunk a different color of the rainbow, stood all around us. The leaves on their branches shimmered in either gold or silver about twenty-five feet above me. “What now, Fintan? Where do we go?”

“We must first find the home of the one called Ghillie Dhu. He’s the guardian fairy of the forest. He’s kind to children and might be able to tell you where to find Shandrell.”

We’d gone only twenty paces when a bright blue trunk moved in front of us. “Stop!” boomed the voice of the tree. “Why have you disturbed my slumber?”

Fintan, tail tucked between his legs, hid behind me.

I rolled my eyes at my companion. Then I said to the tree, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m looking for Shandrell. Do you know where she is?”

“Yes.” The tree’s booming voice reverberated through my head. “However, I cannot tell you anything except that only a gift will wake her.” Then the tree stopped moving.

Great! I stuck my hands in the pockets of my jeans. Empty. I looked at Fintan and said, “We’re doomed. I ain’t got any gifts for a princess.”

“Trust me,” he growled.

Leaves crackled under my feet as we walked deeper into the forest. The trees whispered overhead like a haunted wind at Halloween. Their branches rustled as they moved closer and closer together until they blocked out the sun.

An hour later, Fintan pointed out a hut covered in leaves and moss in a small clearing. “That’s Ghillie Dhu’s home, but you must go alone. I’ll wait here.” He laid down, but his eyes remained alert.

I took a deep breath and slowly walked over to the hut’s door.

A three-foot fairy, dressed in leaves and moss like his hut, opened the door. His black hair and beard made it impossible to see his face except for his reddish-brown eyes.

“Hello, I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Niko and I need your help to rescue Princess Shandrell.”

“Ah, dear child, that’s a worthy goal. Please, come in.”

I ducked my head as I entered his squat hut. A bed of moss, a chair carved from a tree stump, as well as a table and trunk made from interwoven branches, filled his cozy home.

I sat in his chair while he rummaged through the trunk.

“No, that won’t do,” he mumbled. “No, not that either. Ah, yes, this’ll do. Oh, and this too.” He closed the trunk and turned to me. “Now, young Niko, you’re on an important quest to return what was stolen.” He held up a vine necklace with a wooden pendant about the size of four quarters stacked together. “This is my gift to you. Wear it for protection. If you hold it in your left hand, it’ll give you advice.”

“Thank you, sir.” I slipped the necklace over my head and tucked it under my shirt.

“Now,” he held up a bag made of silver leaves and tied closed with vine, “this is a secret. You must not open it until the right time. If you open it too soon, you’ll become one of the Whispering Wildwood.”

I swallowed hard, but took the bag and stuffed it into the front pocket of my jeans. “Sir, how will I know when it’s time to open it?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll know. Hurry now,” Ghillie Dhu said as he opened the door and waved me outside.

I ran back to Fintan, who said, “Come. We must be on our way.”

Sometime later, we stopped to rest. I sat on a boulder and pulled out the necklace. I held it with my left hand and closed my eyes. “Which way do we go?”

The answer entered my mind. Go to your right five hundred paces. Then ask the white coyote what he smells.

Interesting. I shrugged my left shoulder. “Come on, Fintan,” I said and counted my steps aloud. “One, two, three…” Twice I lost my count, but my companion got me back on track. “… four hundred ninety-eight, four hundred ninety-nine, five hundred. I stopped. “Fintan, what do you smell?”

He sniffed the ground and then the air. “I smell the sap of the Wildwoods and… Shandrell. This way.”

We ran around trees as they lurched in front of us, and we leaped over their roots as they tried to trip us. Finally, Fintan stopped at an outcropping and laid down.

I leaned against the rock, and pulled out my necklace with my left hand.

Look, said the voice in my head.

To my right a cave appeared and I crawled inside. Princess Shandrell laid under a glass coffin. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed, but she looked dead. I reached out to remove the coffin. “Ow! It’s hot!”

I leaned against the cave wall. Was this the right time to open Ghillie Dhu’s small bag? I pulled it out with my eyes closed. The blue tree had said, only a gift would wake her. So, this had to be the right time. I tugged on the vine and untied the bag. Inside, three white rocks, which looked suspiciously like Joey’s moonstones, rested on a handful of dirt.

I held the rocks in my left hand and dumped the dirt on top of the glass coffin. A second later it vanished.

“Whoa!”

Unfortunately, Shandrell continued to sleep. I placed one of the rocks in her hand and said, “Here’s a gift for you. Please wake up.”

At first nothing happened, but then her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at me. “Thank you for your gift,” she said as she stood. “Go now and find your companion so that you may also return home.” She faded away.

When I left the cave, I held out one of the rocks to Fintan.

The White Coyote sniffed it, then said, “No. We must go together. Hold a stone in each of your hands and wrap your arms around my neck.”

As I did, some unknown force yanked me from the forest.

I sat up in my bed and shook my head. No one’s gonna believe this story. I grabbed the three moonstones off my nightstand. But at least I can apologize and return Joey’s moonstones.

Our sirens wailed their piercing cry and the lights flickered rapidly between red and blue. I watched the road from the back of the ambulance. My knees bounced and my fists gripped the edge of the padded bench. Adrenaline flowed through my veins. What a rush! That’s why I’ve always loved this job.

Wade, my driver, cursed as he swerved to avoid hitting a dog. Then he turned the corner so fast, that it felt like he’d done it on two wheels.

There! The broken-down ambulance sat off to the right about a quarter of a mile ahead with lights flickering. I undid my seatbelt, unlatched the gurney, and prepared to open the back doors. As Wade parked us beside A-37, I slammed the doors open and jumped out before he came to a complete stop. I yanked the gurney out and race to the back of A-37 while Enzo and Albert carefully lowered their patient’s gurney to the ground.

“Conner Everest, age fifteen,” Enzo said in a loud, no-nonsense tone. “A bully kicked him down two flights of stairs at school. Compound fracture of his lower left leg and an unstable fracture of the right humorous. Grade three concussion and a possible brain bleed. His mother’s been notified and will meet you at Mercy General.”

I nodded as I shoved the empty gurney toward Albert and took the patient’s gurney from Enzo.

He rattled off Conner’s vitals as he helped me get the gurney into our ambulance. Then he shut the doors with a thump of his fist.

I yelled, “We’re secure. Go!” We lurched forward before I’d finished speaking.

“Dispatch,” Wade said over the radio, “A-51 enroute with the priority red patient, to Mercy General. “ETA, eight minutes.”

I placed an oxygen mask on my patient and hooked Conner up to the monitor before I put on my seatbelt. I then grabbed my cell phone and called the hospital, “This is Helen Latham on A-51. ETA eight minutes. Priority Red. Male, age fifteen. Compound fracture of lower left leg. Unstable break of right humorous. Grade three concussion with a possible brain bleed. Currently unconscious. BP 88 over 50, heart rate 42, temperature 35℃.”

Half a block later, the monitor beeped a warning that Conner’s blood pressure had dropped to 70 over 45. “Wade, step on it! His BP is dropping!”

The engine revved like a race car gunning the last stretch. The acceleration rocked me against my safety harness and the vibrations through the floor rattled the oxygen tank in its bracket. A few heartbeats later, the entire ambulance jumped. “Sorry!” Wade called back. “Didn’t see that pothole.”

Conner groaned, but didn’t wake. His leg seeped blood and his vitals took another hit.

I cursed as I tightened the tourniquet. I adjusted his IV and oxygen, then grabbed another blanket. I did what I could for my patient, but this rig isn’t set up for advanced care. I looked at my watch. Shit! My patient’s running out of time and we’re still four minutes from the hospital.

SCREECH! THUD! CRUNCH!

I slammed against my safety restraints in all directions. Bile rose in my throat as the ambulance rocked and tossed me like a salad.

SKREEEEEEK!

Metal on metal, like fingernails on a chalk board, sent shivers down my spine. An eternity later, the ambulance stopped moving and all was silent. A royal blue semi-truck door, with a scraped logo for Swift Transportation, blocked the window to the cab. I let loose a few curses and punched the bench beside me.

Sssss…

“Shit! An air leak!” I yelled and checked my patient, his vitals were dangerously low, but holding steady. I then checked Conner’s oxygen tank. There’s the hiss. I shut off the valve and grabbed a spare tank. I fumbled the valve on the second tank as nausea threatened to overwhelm me. My stomach burned and cramped.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

I swallowed my heart back into place. With a hand on my throat, I opened the back doors.

Two civilian men stood there. The short, chubby man asked, “Hey, is everybody okay in here?”

“For the moment,” I said. “What’s the situation?”

“A semi-truck driver ran a red light. He’s dazed and might have a concussion, but otherwise he’s fine.”

“Sorry,” the tall redhead said, “about your driver though. He didn’t make it.”

I nodded and swallowed more bile. I gripped my belly trying to stop the pain. My voice sounded shaky as I asked, “Did you call 9-1-1?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the redhead. “I’m still on with them. Um… you don’t look so good, you okay?”

“No, I feel like a martini, shaken but not stirred.” I grabbed his phone and said to the operator, “This is Helen Latham, EMT, on A-51. My driver’s dead. I’ve got internal bleeding caused from the accident. My patient is priority r-red. His stats… are dropping…” I swayed and grabbed the edge of the gurney for support. The phone clattered on the floor as darkness stole my peripheral vision. Everything blurred and seemed to spin. I leaned back in my seat. I said, “S-sorry, guys… my stomach… I…” I closed my eyes and passed out.

* * *

Buzzing? No, it’s the hiss of oxygen. And beeping? The ambulance? My patient! I opened my eyes and quickly squinted them shut again. A beeping monitor, oxygen, bright lights, the scent of a strong disinfectant. The hospital. I had to be in the hospital. Slowly I opened my eyes. Everything was still blurry, but I was definitely in a hospital room.

I tried to sit up. “Aaah!” The nerves in my abdomen exploded from my middle and burned all the way to my outer extremities. I dropped my head back onto the pillow panting.

A dark-skinned nurse rushed into the room. “Eh now, Ms. Latham,” she said with a Jamaican accent. “Yuh just got out of surgery. Yuh need ta tek it easy.”

“Conner Everest? Is he okay?”

The nurse didn’t say anything as she checked my IV.

“Please! My patient, did he make it?”

The nurse said, “I nuh know. The boy is still in surgery. The danger nuh dun yet, mi tink. Now go catch yuh rest.”

I closed my eyes as the nurse left my room. They wouldn’t do surgery on a dead kid, so he’s still alive. He may not be in the clear yet, but alive means there’s still hope.

After four-wheeling for hours in the middle of nowhere, the Jeep seemed to turn on its own, taking Mitch Bradford deeper into the desert. He slammed his fist on the steering wheel and came to a stop. With no cell signal, the GPS couldn’t find his current location, and he didn’t have a paper map. How would he ever find the highway again? The fuel tank was almost as empty as his lunch box and water bottle were. The southern New Mexico desert might just be the death of him.

Wait! Did he see a child dart behind that prickly pear bush, or was he hallucinating? He stared at it while he stroked his salt-and-pepper beard. There! A ten-year-old girl darted over to that large mesquite tree. He rolled down his window, and hollered, “Miss, can you please help me?”

Her head appeared from behind the tree as her blonde hair danced around her face in the hot July breeze. In a flash, she turned and scurried toward the far side of the hill.

Mitch got out of his Jeep and chased after the girl.

He came to a stop as he rounded the hill. The girl had disappeared into a town nestled against the wall of the hill’s sheer face. He was saved! He could get gas, food, and water. Maybe he could even get a good night’s sleep. However, the streets were dirt… no asphalt, no concrete, and no cars. Hmm… A horse, tied to a hitching post, nickered outside the nearest shop. Had he just stepped back in time to the old west?

A young woman of about twenty years of age exited a shop with a heavy bag dangling from her left forearm. The same girl he’d followed, stood beside the woman.

“Look,” the girl said as she pointed, “There’s a really old man over there.”

“Samantha Garrett! It’s rude to call people old.”

The two walked over to him as several people exited the shop and stared at him. Strangers must not be common here. Hold up… Every single person, except for Samantha, looked to be twenty years old and there must be at least fifteen people out here.

Five more exited another shop, and ten or so came out of the diner. All of them twenty years old.

“Hello, welcome to Spry Town. My name’s Angela,” the young lady said. “I’m sorry for my daughter’s rudeness, sir. How can we help you?”

“Um…” Mitch looked from Angela to Samantha and back. Daughter? Impossible. Either Angela was ten when she had Samantha, or she was lying?

The townsfolk formed a circle around him.

He swallowed hard. “Um… My name’s Mitch Bradford. I’m a geologist. I’ve been looking for the meteor that hit around here two nights ago. But I got lost. My Jeep’s low on gas, and I’m out of food and water. I was hoping to get directions and to buy some gas and supplies.”

“As you can see,” Angela said with a wave down the short street, “we don’t use cars. Therefore, we don’t have a gas station. However, the diner makes a great hamburger. Come on.”

Mitch followed Angela to the diner and the rest of the people followed behind them. What’s going on? Maybe these people were going to lynch him, or maybe strangers were just so rare that he was a novelty to them.

Another thirty or so young people sat in the diner. This was no longer strange but outright weird. He sat at the bar and ordered. After several minutes, the cook set a healthy-sized cheeseburger in front of him with a mountain of fries and a bottle of Coke.

Once he’d finished his meal, with sixty or so twenty-year-olds watching him, he rubbed his sore back. So, what now?

A tall man stepped through the crowd. “I’m Mayor Thomas McKenna. It’s nice to have made your acquaintance, but it’s time for you to be on your way.” He handed Mitch a piece of paper. “Here’s a map to help you find I-10.”

Mitch took the map, which seemed simple enough to follow. “Thanks. May I ask—”  

The mayor stiffened with a stern expression. “It’s time for you to go.”

Mitch stood. “In that case, thank you for your hospitality. I’ll just go.” Once outside, Mitch bolted for his Jeep. He followed the mayor’s map back to I-10 and made it to a gas station on fumes.

He refilled his tank, as a twenty-year-old man filled his tank on the next island over. Twenty. Those townsfolk were all twenty. How’s that possible? Had he gone to Crazy Town?

He paid for his gas and some supplies. Still parked at the fuel pump, he downed a bottle of water. Ugh! Mitch started the engine. “Old Betsy, I’ve just gotta know what’s going on.” He followed the mayor’s map in reverse, until he was about a mile away from that town. He hid his Jeep among the desert vegetation and waited. When the sun began to set, he snuck over to Spry Town.

From the top of a mesquite tree, he watched Main Street. Except for the age of the townsfolk, everything appeared normal right up until five minutes before ten o’clock. One hundred four adults, no children, lined up in front of the bank without speaking to each other. At precisely ten, the bank door opened and ten people went inside. Five minutes later, those ten came out all wet, and the next ten went in. What would anyone, let alone the whole town, want in a bank at ten o’clock? And why do they come out wet?

After the last person left, Mitch climbed down from the tree and slipped over to the bank. He entered the bank and asked, “What’s going on here?”

The mayor jumped and turned from the vault’s lock. “Now, young man, I thought you’d left.”

“I did,” Mitch said. “I came back. And I’m more than twice your age, so why’d you call me young?”

“Because I’m one hundred eighty-eight years old,” the mayor said. “You may look older, but you’re the younger man.”

“Huh? I’m confused.”

The mayor chuckled. “I’ll bet you are. I’ll tell you our secret, if you agree to never leave Spry Town.”

Mitch scrunched his face, and rubbed his temples. Something deep in his soul needed to know their secret. But could he stay here? A dozen heartbeats later, he asked, “You’d put me in jail if I tried to leave?”

“No. We don’t have a jail nor a sheriff. However, once you know our secret, you won’t be able to leave. If you do, you’ll die.”

“Ah… You’d kill me to keep your secret?”

“Again, no. We’re not violent, but none of us can leave. If we did, we’d die.”

“Not sure I understand.” Mitch rubbed the back of his neck, then nodded. “Fine, I’ll stay. So, what’s your secret?”

The mayor nodded with a smile. “Call me Tom.” He unlocked the vault. “This way.”

Mitch followed him through the small vault to a wooden door in the back. Then down a long dark staircase cut out of rock. He’d counted a hundred fifty-two steps when he got to the bottom.

Tom lit a lantern, the light of which revealed a cave with a small lake, maybe fifty feet across. He indicated another set of steps, four this time, that led into the water. “You must swim to the other side and back. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

Mitch shrugged and undressed down to his boxers. As he swam, warm water caressed his face and his invigorated body tingled all over.

Tom handed him a pocket mirror when he came out of the lake.

Mitch jumped with a small scream then slowly ran a hand over his clean-shaven, twenty-year-old face. “How? How’d this happen?”

“That’s the secret. Our underground lake has the same properties as the fountain of youth. Every night we swim to stay young. If we miss a night, we grow old quickly. If we leave town by more than ten miles, we grow old at an even faster rate until we’ve turned to dust.” He patted Mitch’s shoulder. “Welcome to Spry Town, my friend.”

Earth’s sixth terraformed planet, Chalcedony, is now home to a million people. We have three moons, Jasper, Onyx, and Agate, but only one city, Lazuli. Now, with that many people living in one place, there tends to be a lot of crime. That’s where I, Sheriff Caleb Blackburn, come in.

Yesterday afternoon, I’d responded to a call at Lilac River about five kilometers from Lazuli. A newlywed couple camped beside the purple water, near Torr Peak, and they’d found a pile of bones behind a cluster of rocks.

This morning, as I entered the station, Deputy Stan McGowen studied his computer display, and without looking up, he said, “Sir, the forensics report’s in. That pile contained bones from five people, two adults and three children, all apparently from one family. Most likely they’re our missing campers from three weeks ago.”

“Thanks.” I slapped my desk with my cap. “Ya know, it’s the twenty-fifth century, you’d think scientists would’ve eliminated psychopaths by now.”

“That’d be nice, but it’d put us out of a job, boss.”

“There’d still be plenty of petty crimes to deal with.”

The office door opened and Deputy Genna Stanton, the watch tower guard, yelled, “Sheriff, there’re alien ships landing outside of town. Come quick!”

With a shake of my head, I got to my feet and followed Genna with stan on my heels.

Genna ran up the stairs to the top of the watch tower.

I could just make out three strange triangular ships landing out by the river where we’d found the bones. “Stan, are those newlyweds still out there?”

“Yeah, I believe so.”

“Great!” I rubbed my temples, another migraine brought on by stress. “Stan, sound the alert and get the emergency response crews rolling. I’ll take a rover and go on ahead. Genna, have the mayor announce code red and get everyone in the underground shelters until we know more.”

As Stan and Genna left on their missions, I grabbed the closest rover and high-tailed it out of town. At a top speed of fifty kilometers an hour and over rough terrain, it took me twelve minutes to approach the site. I stopped behind a rock outcropping and observed the situation.

Each of the three ships appeared to be average size, but these looked more like pyramids on their sides. Neither the camp nor the ships showed any signs of movement.

I drove over to the camp site. Everything at the site had been tossed, shredded or scattered. My gut clenched tight. Something bad had happened here, but what?

I tapped my ear comm as I pulled the rover up to a stop in front of the nearest ship. “Stan, what’s your ETA?”

“About four minutes out. What’s going on there?”

“The newlywed’s camp was destroyed. I’m about to knock on one of these ships and see if anyone’s home.”

I climbed out of the rover and walked up to the hull and knocked as loud as I could. Then with my hand on my pistol, I stepped back and waited.

Two minutes later, a hatch opened on the starboard side of the ship. My heart pounded against my rib cage as I swallowed hard and gripped my pistol tighter.

A ramp lowered and the campers, covered in bandages, hobbled down assisted by two humans in the Commonwealth’s police officer uniform.

“Good afternoon, Sheriff,” said the taller officer. “My name is Sergeant Brinkley. This is Officer Martinez. Whatcha think of our new patrol ships?”

I just stared.

Sergeant Brinkley continued, “We scared ya, didn’t we?”

I nodded.

“Well, we landed in time to save these two from a ferocious animal they called a camel bear. It bit Mrs. Selinsky’s forearm off and Mr. Selinsky has numerous wounds. Martinez here killed the camel bear, but these two need medical care.

Stan and all the emergency responders pulled up at that moment. I motioned for the medical team. Then to Stan I said, “It appears our psychopath wasn’t human, but a camel bear.”

Becca Gillway strolled into the private cove and took her sandals off. The hot sand burned her feet until she stepped into the water. She wiggled her toes in the firm wet sand until her toes were completely buried. A bright blue wave lapped against her ankles and washed the sand away.

Seagulls squawked as they flew overhead. She sighed, even the birds argued. Her had parents fought with each other for most of her fourteen years of her life, so why should she expect them to stop just because they were on vacation.

Last month her dad had announced at the dinner table, “Guess what? I entered a drawing at work and won a time-share to a cabin in Florida about a hundred feet from a private cove. Two weeks of sea air will do us some good.”

Well, here they were three days into their vacation. And nothing had changed except that now they were on the other side of the country from Arizona. Her parents still fought over everything the other said. Even earphones couldn’t mask their tumultuous voices.

She sighed and sat in the sand with her back against the boulder that marked the entrance to their private beach. Her dark-brown hair danced on the breeze. She squirmed in the sand until she found that comfortable sweet spot. Then she pulled her knees up toward her chest and closed her eyes. “I wish I was the captain of a spaceship as it glides through the sea of stars, with its engines humming a low steady rhythm.”

A gust of wind blew sand into her face, which she quickly covered with both hands. When the gust died away, she opened her eyes and blinked several times.

Heart thumping against her rib cage, she jumped to her feet and looked around. What happened?

She stood in front of a command chair on the bridge of a ship with an enormous view of space through the forward porthole. The three stations in front of her were in a horseshoe layout and each crew member wore a khaki uniform.

“Captain,” the crew member to her right said, “Admiral Borden is on the comm for you.”

As she took her seat and activated the comm, a hologram of a balding man with tufts of grey hair over his ears hovered above the arm of her chair. “Captain Gillway, I’ve got a new mission for you. Zion Colony seems to have disappeared leaving only damaged buildings behind. I need you and your crew to investigate.”

“You got it, sir.” With a nod to the admiral, she terminated the comm. “Mr. Anderson, please set a course for Zion Colony.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Wait. How did she know his name? What’s going on? She’d made a wish on the beach, then that gust of wind came up… now she captained a spaceship. She leaned back in her chair. Either that had been a magical cove, or her imagination finally got the better of her. Did it matter? She captained a spaceship and the admiral needed her to solve a mystery. She smiled as she updated the captain’s log.

“Wake up, Becca!” Her mother’s voice yelled, “What’re you doing sleeping on the beach? It’s time for dinner and you’re redder than a crab.”

She frowned. It had all been a dream. And to make it worse, she had to go to dinner with parents that would argue over how to care for her sunburn.

I tossed yet another outfit on my pile of rejects and grabbed another one. No, not this one either. “Ugh!” My watch said, 10:08. “Crap!” He’d be here at eleven and I still needed to put on make-up. I held up a turquoise blouse. I’ll never be ready in time.

Brody knocked on the door fifteen minutes late, but I opened the door with a smile as my white skirt swished around my ankles. “Good morning.” I raised an eyebrow at his appearance. At the office Brody always looked sharp in an expensive suit, but today he wore jeans with holes in the knees and a t-shirt that read, “Admit it. Life would be boring without me.”

“Hey, Lyndy, you look nice.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You ready to have some fun?”

“I am. I’ll just go get my purse.”

He nodded, entered my apartment, and flopped on the couch like Al Bundy from that 90s TV sitcom, Married… with Children.

I shrugged with a slight shake of my head. Today was going to be interesting. Hopefully he’s more like Crocodile Dundee than Hannibal Lector. She snatched her purse off her bed and then announced, “Okay. I’m ready. So, where’re we going today?”

With a half shrug, he said, “I thought we’d grab lunch and then hit the zoo.” Without another word, he headed for his car and got into the driver’s seat.

What happened to chivalry? So far, he wasn’t acting much like Crocodile Dundee. I sighed. Well, as long as he isn’t Hannibal Lector… I locked my door, and followed him to his cherry red mustang convertible.

He pulled into Sonic and ordered us each a chili cheese dog, fries, and a coke without asking what I wanted.

I glanced at my white skirt. Great.

He ate his chili dog in record time and pulled out of Sonic while I still had half of mine. He raced onto the street so fast that I dropped my food on my white skirt. Ugh!

He cackled like a hyena as he whipped his mustang around town and then onto the highway.

He parked at the zoo thirty minutes later. “Oops!” I said as I dropped my soda on his lap. If I had to walk around looking like a chili dog, then he could look like he wet his pants.

We exchanged some colorful metaphors. When we got to the zoo’s entrance, the scoundrel said he didn’t have enough cash to buy our tickets.

“Grr!” With a roll of my eyes, I paid for them and we entered the zoo. At first, we walked around without talking. We barely stopped to see the tigers and the lions, but as his pants dried, he strutted around like a peacock.

At the petting zoo, a goat immediately went for my skirt. I dropped my purse while trying to chase the goat off.

Brody laughed as he bent over to pick up my purse. A huge Billy goat mounted him hard enough to knock him face first into the dirt.

I howled with laughter. The peacock got taken down by a goat. I giggled all the way to the next enclosure, where I smiled at the adorable ostriches. They ate pellets with quick pecks at our open palms.

Out of nowhere, Brody put his arm around me and pulled me in for a wet slobbery kiss.

I pushed him away. He bounced off the fence with his arms out wide. An ostrich, looking for more pellets, bit his hand and drew blood.

After getting cleaned up and a band-aid from the aid station, we went to the llama’s enclosure. One of them ran up to us, and without any preamble, spit in Brody’s face.

I doubled over in laughter while he went to the men’s room to clean himself up.

When he returned, he glared at me and walked away without a word.

I smiled as I followed him all the way back to the car. He barely waited for me to get in before he zoomed out of the parking lot.

He sped down the highway whipping in and out of cars as I squeezed the armrest.

Brody wasn’t anything like Crocodile Dundee… This hapless lout was a lot more like Wile E. Coyote.

A siren wailed beside us. I looked over to see Uncle Shane waving Brody to the side of the rode. Which he did with a lot of rude comments about the cop and his parentage.

Uncle Shane asked, “Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?”

“No, but I’m sure it’s her fault,” Brody said with a nod in my direction.

“Lyndy wasn’t driving, you were. And you were doing a hundred and seventeen miles an hour and driving recklessly. Please step out of the car.”

Grumbling under his breath Brody got out. “I’m sorry officer, but I’ve just been mounted by a goat, bitten by an ostrich, and spit on by a llama. I was trying to take this bad-luck charm,” he waved his thumb in my direction, “home before something worse happened.”

“Yeah, right.” The cop smiled at me. “Is he telling the truth?”

“Actually, yes. Except that I’m not a bad-luck charm. He’s just a hapless lout.”

Uncle Shane chuckled. “Gotcha.” Then he said, “Brody Whitlock you are under arrest for criminal speeding and reckless driving.” He looked at me, “Hop into the front seat. I need to get his car towed to the impound lot.”

“No problem.” To Brody I said, “By the way, your shirt is quite correct. Today would’ve been boring without your comic relief. However, let me be clear here, there will never be a second date.”

I placed my baby doll in her cradle. “Time to go to sleep now, Amy.” I covered her with a blanket and kissed her forehead just like Mama does for me. Then I sang Jesus Loves Me to her. When Amy was asleep, I crawled into my bed and yelled, “Mama, I ready.”

She came in my room and started packing clothes. “Anna, my little bunny, I need you to get up and get dressed. There’s a bad man coming and we’ve got to leave now.”

“But, Mama,” I said as I got out of bed, “you said Jesus will always take care of us. Why do we have to leave?”

“I don’t have time to explain right now. I’ll explain later. Right now, I need you to trust me, okay? Get dressed then grab Amy and come downstairs.”

Mama left the room real fast. What was going on? I shrugged and put my purple pants on and my green long sleeve shirt with the unicorn on it. I struggled with my shoes, but I’m six now, and I can do it myself. I picked up Amy, careful not to wake her, and went downstairs like Mama said.

Papa put his gun into his backpack, and Mama put some food into another one.

I sat on the bottom stair and asked, “Why can’t I go to bed now?”

Papa put his backpack on and turned toward me.

A loud banging on the door scared me and made Papa jump with his eyes wide. “Liz, he’s found us. Take Anna and go out the back door! Hurry!”

Mama grabbed me and I almost dropped Amy. Both Amy and I cried. What was going on? “Mama,” I said clutching Amy with one arm and Mama’s neck with the other, “I scared.”

“I know, bunny, I know. I am too.”

BANG!

Mama jumped but kept running.

I looked back to the house, a strange man with black hair all over his face came outside. Papa laid on the floor with ketchup all over his head.

Mama dropped her backpack and kept running.

The scary man yelled, “Elizabeth Prestwick, you and your beautiful daughter won’t get away from me. You might as well make it easy for yourselves and come back here.”

Mama whispered, “Father God, please protect us. Save us from this situation.”

“Who’s dat man, Mama?”

His name’s Doyle Bane,” she said breathing hard, “and he’s a very bad man.”

“Why’s he wantta hurt us?”

“He wants the information on the research Papa did. He thinks you and I have it now.”

“But just tell ‘im we ain’t got it. Then he’ll leave us alone.”

“I don’t think so, bunny.” Still running, she gasped for breath as she said, “I need you to be… very quiet now. I’m going to try to… get us to the police station… but if I can’t, I’ll try to… find us a hiding spot. But it’s really very important… you stay super quiet.”

“Okay, I try.” I put my finger to my lips and whispered, “Hear that Amy, we’ve gotta be really quiet.”

Mama ran for a long time. And then she stopped, and we hid inside a large bush. “Anna, my little bunny, I need to get to the police, but you’re too heavy for me to carry. I need to leave you here with Amy so I can run faster, okay?”

“No, Mama!” I screamed, “No, don’t leave me alone!”

“Okay.” She sighed. “I’ll stay with you.”

“What’s wrong, Mama, why are you crying?”

“Shh… Remember we have to stay very quiet, so that Mr. Bane doesn’t find us.”

“Okay.” I crawled onto her lap and laid my head against her chest. “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, my little bunny, with all my heart.” She put her arms around me and held me close.

Noises in the bushes woke me. Mama was gone but she was running not too far away. I grabbed Amy and ran after her.

Bright lights from a car came around the corner of a dirt road.

THUMP! THUD!

What was that? I peered through the hands over my eyes. The car was driving away really fast and Mama laid with her face in the dirt.

I shook her shoulder. “Mama, wake up! Mama, come on you gotta wake up!” I nudged her but she wasn’t moving. Her eyes were all weird and stared off without blinking. I shook her and shook her, and screamed, “Mama, wake up!” but she didn’t wake up. I laid beside her as tears rolled off my cheeks like a river. I gasped for breath with every sob. What do I do? Mama had ketchup leaking out of her tummy and now it was all over me and Amy too.

I looked around. But in the dark, I couldn’t see anyone to help Mama.

“Help!” I yelled, “Somebody, please help me!”

A man wearing a white dress appeared before me, like the angels from the stories in Sunday School.

“Who are you?”

“Anna, my little bunny, I’m Jesus. I don’t want you to be afraid. I’m here to help you.”

“Oh, I’m not afraid of you. But can you please wake Mama up?”

“Not here. Your Mama is in Heaven with your Papa.”

“Oh, like Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Yes, sweet child. And it’s time for you to join them.”

I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn’t work. They were all smashed. I had ketchup all over me. I looked at Jesus and said, “I’m broken.”

He smiled and touched me. Then he said, “Not anymore.”

It was weird; I stood, but my body stayed on the ground beside Mama. I took Jesus’ hand, and we went to go see Mama and Papa.

Note: This story takes place in 1975, long before the law required seatbelts and child safety seats. This is a true story, but the man was a stranger to me, so his name, coworker, and his thoughts are all fictional.

With is lunch in hand, Markus Tyne sat across from his friend Paul in the lunchroom. “You’re never gonna believe what I saw this morning.”

“Don’t tell me… you got up early and saw the sun rise.”

“Don’t get snarky. I’m serious here. This morning, as I parked my car, a blue Chevy Luv came flying off the 101 without slowing down.”

“Really, dude? People do that all the time.”

“This’s different. Let me finish.”

Paul waved a hand for him to continue as he lit a cigarette.

“Well,” Markus said, “this truck had a camper with its door open and swinging back and forth. Then right before my ever-loving eyes a child, of maybe three years old, was thrown out onto the asphalt. The truck continued to speed down the street and it disappeared around the corner.”

“Mark, don’t make shit up.”

“I’m not! This happened. The girl ran to the sidewalk and chased after the truck screaming for her mommy. She ran fast too. Obviously, the girl wasn’t hurt, but I couldn’t let her run down the street alone. So, I chased after her. She’d made it halfway from here to the corner, when I picked her up. She kicked and screamed something fierce. I whispered in her ear that it was okay and that I’d call the police to help us find her mom. I’d hoped that would calm her down, but it didn’t work.”

Paul leaned back in his seat, puffing on his cigarette with narrowed eyes. “Dude, you’ve gotta be lying.”

“Ugh! No, I’m not. I’m serious. This really happened. Look.” He showed Paul his left forearm and pointed to the bite mark which was now red and raw. “The little brat bit me.”

“Okay,” Paul said, “finish your wild tale.”

“Well, when the brat bit me, I dropped her. She hit the sidewalk running as she resumed her chase after the truck. I caught her a second time, but this time I made sure I had a good grip on her and that her teeth weren’t near any part of my body. Again, I told her that we were going to get the police to help us find her mom, but I don’t think she heard me because she was too busy kicking me, rocking back and forth in my arms, and screaming at the top of her lungs.”

Markus took a sip of his soda. “I headed toward the office so I could call the police. The kid really didn’t like that. She tried even harder to get down and screamed, “Mommy,” over and over in my ear. I got back to our building when the blue truck pulled up across the street from me. A hysterical red-headed woman jumped out of the truck and raced toward me. Her cheeks were all wet from crying and she yelled, ‘Tami! My baby!’ and the little girl in my arms reached out to this crazy lady yelling, ‘Mommy,’ repeatedly as she kicked harder and rocked faster.”

“So,” Paul said, leaning closer to Markus, “whatcha do?”

“Well, I was reluctant to give the girl to the crazy woman even though she was clearly the girl’s mom. I mean, I’d just seen this kid thrown out of the back of a moving vehicle, right? Well, I held the girl away from her mom as I asked her, ‘Is this your daughter? Did you throw her out of that camper?’

“The mom swore that wasn’t the case and explained that her daughter had been playing with her dolls in the camper. She told me that Tami must’ve opened the door and fallen out. I thought that sounded fishy, but I didn’t get a chance to say anything as the mom kept talking. She told me that when she got to the unemployment office, she noticed the door open, she gone inside looking for her daughter, and when she didn’t find her, she drove back the way she’d come. Then this woman thanked me for taking care of her daughter.”

Paul said, “Wow! This is unbelievable. If you hadn’t shown me that bite mark, I’d swear you were making this all up.”

Markus nodded, then continued, “I hesitated, but then I let the mom have her daughter. The little girl wrapped her arms around the mom’s neck so tight and the mom buried her face in the girl’s neck and told her it would be okay. Then get this…”

“What?”

“The mom prayed right there, in the street, thanking God for keeping her baby safe and for this nice gentleman finding her. Mark, the woman thanked God for me, and here I was about to call the police and report child abuse. What am I supposed to think? I don’t know, but maybe it was all an accident like the mom said. I mean, I could tell that the little girl and her mom loved each other, and I could tell the girl was healthy and well cared for. It probably wasn’t child abuse, but I don’t know. I sure hope I did the right thing.”

My name is Amelia Mary Hart. Yes, my parents had a weird sense of humor and named me after the American aviation pioneer, Amelia Mary Earhart. Unfortunately, I don’t have my name sake’s gift of aviation. Well, okay, I can pilot a shuttle, but I’m not gifted at it.

Last week my fiancé, Jerad, led a team to survey a new planet, which we’d nicknamed New Blue. Now, while the team took samples of everything they could, I picked-up some strange readings about two hundred kilometers from the team’s camp. I thought I’d impress my fiancé, and the team, and investigate these readings on my own. I took the shuttle without telling anyone. Okay, so I inherited the brains of a dodo bird instead of the gift of aviation.

I circled an artifact from an alien culture from about fifty meter above it. Then I landed the shuttle about fifteen meters in front of it. A perfectly smooth, green ovoid with irregular orange spots. It had smaller, alternating green and orange ovoid stones all the way around its base. I exited the shuttle and took some pictures. I found no openings or marks of any kind. It was made of stone, but it was warm to the touch.

My problems started when I got back into the shuttle. The artifact, the biggest find of my lifetime, had somehow scrambled the shuttle’s computers. Fortunately, the engine still worked, meaning I could still fly it. However, I wouldn’t have any computer assistance for control, navigation, or communication. Without my security blanket, I’d have to return to the old-fashioned method of aviation just like Amelia Earhart and the pioneers of aviation.

With all the circling I’d done, I didn’t have a clue which direction to go in order to return to the camp. I’d never figured out the four points of the compass on Earth, and I didn’t grasp them on this planet either. Ugh! That’s why the powers-that-be put navigation computers in the shuttles, right? So, that stupid people like me wouldn’t have to worry about the points of a compass and get lost.

I only had two options, as I saw it. Option one, sit here and wait in hopes that Jerad would come looking for me. Oh, wait! I’d taken the shuttle without telling anyone where I was going. So, that option was out. Option two, fly the shuttle back to camp without computer assistance.

I slapped the top of the navigation computer. “Come on, stupid computer, plot my course back to camp.”

The screen flashed “Reinitializing.” Then a few seconds later, the screen turned red and flashed, “Reinitialization failed. Please upload appropriate maps.”

“I don’t have any maps, you hunk of junk!” I hit the top of the navigation computer again.

The find of a lifetime, and there I was lost and without computer assistance and no radio. If only I could’ve channeled some of my name sake’s abilities. But then she had been smart enough to take a navigator with her, and I’ll bet Fred Noonan wasn’t a dodo bird like me.

I took a deep breath and lifted the shuttle off the ground. Slowly I made a three hundred sixty-degree circle. Nothing looked familiar. I raised the shuttle to a higher altitude and tried again. Ugh! Still nothing looked familiar. I needed to pick a direction. Any direction. I closed my eyes and pointed in different directions as I sang a childhood rhyme, “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…”

I had flown for twenty minutes when I found another alien artifact. How many were there, and what were they used for? No matter. It was obvious that I’d headed in the wrong direction. If this was the correct way, then I would’ve flown over this artifact on my way to the first one. I turned to my eight o’clock and rose to a higher altitude. Five more artifacts dotted the landscape. How did we miss all these when we did the initial survey from orbit? I turned the shuttle away from the artifacts and flew for about an hour.

“Finally! There’s the camp!” I yelled.

I landed ten minutes later. It was late afternoon local time, so where was everyone? I looked around the camp. Every tent was empty. They could all be out collecting samples, or out looking for me. But if that was the case, wouldn’t they have left someone in camp for communication purposes?

After waiting two hours, with no contact with anyone, I decided that I should go look for the team. I filled the shuttle with food and water, and then topped off the fuel. I climbed into the pilot’s chair, but I couldn’t make myself leave. The computer still wasn’t online, and I had no clue which direction to go. It was pure luck that I managed to get back to camp the first time.

What’s that? A wrestling sound surrounded the shuttle.

“Relax!” I said as I wiped my brow. “It’s just the wind.”

Wait. That sounded more like footsteps. It wasn’t wind. Someone was outside. I stood to go see who was outside, but then I froze. Something orange and green moved toward the shuttle from the direction of our tents. It appeared to be walking on its five appendages just a few centimeters off the ground. It was easily ten meters long and six meters tall. I swallowed hard, and my heart pounded against my rib cage.

Three more of these creatures came toward the shuttle. I watched as they seemed to have a conversation. I couldn’t hear anything, but the four creatures faced each other. Then one at time they stuck out an acid-green forked tongue, which moved up, down, left, and right in different patterns.

Several heartbeats later, the first creature reared up on its rear appendage and looked directly at me. I swallowed hard. These weren’t just indigenous fauna, like crocodiles… these guys were intelligent, self-aware aliens. I swallowed hard again. Were these sentient beings good or evil? Were they responsible for the disappearance of my team?

I stood in the cockpit with my hands pressed against the porthole. Their orange and green coloring appeared to be unique to each being. Their skin, from this distance at least, appeared to be smooth like a dolphin and they had three digits on each of their five appendages. They had ovoid heads with five black, beady eyes, with no visible ears or nose. But then neither did snakes. Snakes hear through vibrations and smell with their tongue. Could these guys hear and smell that way too? With the computer offline, I couldn’t take any pictures. So, I grabbed an old-fashioned pad of paper and pencil and quickly sketched my friends outside.

The big question I kept asking myself as I sketched the creatures below was, “Should I try to make first contact with them? Or should I try to get this shuttle back to the ship in orbit so I could report the situation and get help?”

The four beings, now all standing on their rear appendage, stared at me. The first one wiggled its tongue at me. Was it trying to communicate with me? Maybe I should open the hatch and—

I jumped. An orange head appeared in the porthole looking in at me from the top of the shuttle. Breathing rapidly, I flopped into the pilot’s chair, put my safety harness on, and fired up the engines. Suddenly, the four aliens on the ground spread hidden wings, kind of like a ladybug, and flew at the shuttle. They spit some sort of opaque gunk on the porthole. Great! Now I couldn’t see out, and without the computer’s help, I wouldn’t be able to fly without hitting something. I turned the engines off. What now?

I released the safety harness and raced to the rear of the shuttle. I rummaged through the storage lockers. I needed to find a pistol. Or at least something to protect myself with. I found an emergency pack. It had a pistol inside it. I put the pack on my back, pocketed the pistol, and headed back to the cockpit. I placed my sketches of the creatures in my chest pocket.

The twelve-centimeter-thick porthole smoked along the edges accompanied with a sizzling sound. That gunk must have been an acid or something because the porthole had begun to dissolve. I stepped to the back of the cockpit and whispered, “Oh, Jerad, where are you?”

I sat in one of the passenger seats. My hands shook and my breath was shallow and rapid. I’m going to die alone by way of hungry aliens. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I rocked back and forth.

My namesake disappeared and died during her flight around the world. My team disappeared, and are probably dead, surveying a new world. I joined this team to be a pioneer like my namesake, Amelia Earhart. Now, Amelia Hart, aviator and pioneer, has disappeared and will most likely die as her namesake did.

Through the holes in the dissolving porthole, I stared into the darkening sky. “Heavenly Father,” I prayed, “please save me.”

A shuttle descended and fired on the creatures killing at least two of them. When the remaining creatures scurried off, the shuttle landed beside mine and opened its hatch. I ran for the exit hatch and left my dissolving shuttle. I clambered aboard the other shuttle and right into Jerad’s arms.

I was saved. All the emotions that I’d been keeping at bay, came rushing to the fore front. With gasping sobs and noodle legs, I clung to Jerad until I passed out.

I jumped up to the back of the couch in front of the big window. After kneading my blanket and stretching, I laid with my legs tucked in. Will called this loafing. I flattened my ears, whatever does that mean? I swished my tail and focused on the sunshine. Moments later I purred as the sun warmed my fur. Yes, this is the purrfect spot to sunbathe.

The birds at the bird feeder flapped around and tweeted. Their glorious dance seemed to taunt me. If only Darling and Will would let me catch one. I’ll bet they’re super tasty. “Mew.”

A hand scratched behind my ears, and I purred louder. Darling sure knew just the right spots to scratch. “Okay, Mocha, my good girl,” she said, “Will and I are going outside to rake the leaves and mend the fence. You just enjoy your catnap.”

“Come on, Darling, get your jacket and gloves,” Will said from the door.

I licked my paws and pretended not to notice Will and Darling as they put on those things they called jackets. Cats are so much better than humans; we have fur and don’t need to put on ridiculous jackets.

I washed my paws, my face, my belly and my hind quarters. A cat can never be too clean. Then after my bath, I closed my eyes for my nap.

Darling’s screech interrupted my mouse hunting dream. I opened my eyes and looked out the window. She was sitting on the ground and Will knelt beside her. She had blood on her arm.

My ears twitched.

Will ran in the house, grabbed a box and ran back outside. What’s his problem? Why didn’t he just lick her wound clean? He put something on her arm and then wrapped cloth around it. Silly. Why did humans do that? Oh, and now he’s licking her mouth. Humans aren’t very smart. Her wound is on her arm, not her mouth. Honestly, how did humans ever survive evolution? I mean, cats are superior in every way, why aren’t we the dominant species?

I stretched and yawned as my humans went back to their tasks. With a swish of my tail, I jumped off the couch and meandered into the kitchen for a couple bites of kibble and some water. Sated, I slipped through the cat door and out into the yard. My sandy-brown fur blended well with the tall dry weeds, which is perfect for hunting mice.

I meandered to the front yard and laid on a small pile of leaves in the shade of the huge tree. The birds were no longer at the feeder. Probably because my humans scared them off with all the noise they make.

Wait? What’s Will doing? Is he really stalking Darling? My ears laid back and my tail brushed leaves aside as he squatted for a pounce. Surely, this clumsy human wasn’t going to pretend he was a graceful cat. Whoa! What a clumsy, dreadful sight. Will pounced on Darling and knocked her into the pile of leaves. Then they rolled around like two fighting tomcats. They yowled loudly too.

Oh no! Here comes old Charlie. Just what I need, a witness to my humans’ stupidity. And he visits all the cats in the neighborhood and shares gossip.

“Hey, Mocha, nice day, eh?”

“Sure. It’s a great day for hunting. Let’s go in the back yard and hunt mice.”

Charlie sat on his haunches and stared at Will and Darling.

Great! I chanced a glance at my humans, who tossed leaves at each other.

“Ya know what, Mocha, your humans are peculiar. They’re playing like a couple of kittens.

“Yeah, they’re strange all right. Earlier, he covered her wound without licking it.”

My humans stood while still throwing leaves at each other. Then Will chased Darling around the yard.

I laid my ears back.

Darling grabbed that long green thing, and water came out at Will like a large spray bottle. Now, what in all catdom was Darling punishing Will for?

Will lunged for her and grabbed the green thing. Now, Will was punishing Darling with the large spray bottle.

Charlie asked, “What are your humans doing?”

“I’d rather not talk about their silliness. Can we go hunt mice now?”

Old Charlie tucked his legs under him as he laid on a pile of leaves beside me. His tail swished lightly. He must be enjoying my humans and their odd behavior.

That’s put a claw in it! I won’t be able to walk the neighborhood ever again. All the other cats will tease me for my human’s stupid behavior.

With an odd display of flaying arms and legs, Will slipped in the mud puddle they’d created and landed face first in the mud. Darling tried to pull him up, but she slipped and fell backward. They each tried to get up on their own but they each slipped again.

When they finally made it to their feet, they were both covered in mud. Yuck! Darling shut off the water but lost her balance.

Will caught her and licked her mouth, and she licked back.

What a disgrace! My humans can’t even give each other a bath properly.

I got up and meandered toward the backyard. I’m done watching their stupidity.

Old Charlie followed me. “Hey, Mocha, they went inside. What do you suppose they’re going to do now?”

“Meow! Didn’t you smell their pheromones? They’re gonna mate again. With all the mating my humans do, you’d think they’d have had several litters of kittens by now. They just can’t do anything right.”

“Mew! Don’t forget, Mocha, they’re mere humans, not cats. Only cats are purrfect.”

The stable door slammed open, and snow blew inside with gale-force winds. The reindeer stamped and grunted. Then Rudolph leaped over his stall door with a glowing nose. “Hey, guys, there’s a storm brewing out there. Maybe Santa will need me this year after all. It’s been years since I got to go on the trip.”

Dasher snorted. “We’ve still got another two weeks before the big trip, Neon Nose. There’s plenty of time for the storm to blow out. Besides, you won’t be leading the team anytime soon. That’s my job. Now get back in your stall, little lightbulb.”

Rudolph walked to the open door and peered outside. The wind howled as flurries of snowflakes blew in diagonal and horizontal slants. “Yep, it’s a blizzard alright,” he said. “The thing is, with my magical nose, I can see where I’m going. Neither fog nor blizzards bother me.”

“Stop bragging, Pinocchio. You’re still a calf with an irritating habit of showing off. Now, I’m ordering you, and your clown nose, to get back in your stall.”

“Sorry, gramps, but I need to get some exercise before the big trip. Don’t wait up for me.” Then with a wag of his tail, he yelled, “See ya!” and leaped into the white world of blowing snow.

His magical glowing nose illuminated his surroundings as if the sun was shining. Nothing to worry about. He headed east as he flew higher and higher. Oh, what glorious freedom. The energizing air whipped around him and through his thick coat of hair. Boo-yah! This was what he was meant to do! Rudolph stuck out his tongue and rolled to his left, catching a mouthful of snowflakes. Yummy. He did a backflip and headed west.

He dove and landed lightly on the stable roof. Click click click. He pranced across the roof and jumped back into the wind again. He rolled right, then left, then spun and did a somersault. Then with a flip, he flew backwards. He climbed higher and dove. Repeatedly Rudolph executed somersaults, backflips, and rolls while changing directions, speed, and altitude.

He glanced down at the sea of white below him, which expanded in every direction. Wait! Where’d the stable go? Santa’s house, the toy factory, Mrs. Claus’ bakery… Where was the village?

He landed, took a deep breath, and turned in circles. His magical nose clearly lit up the area, but the village had disappeared. No, more likely, he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Just great! He’d be in a lot of trouble when he got home. That is if he ever found home again. Santa’s first rule was never wander off alone. And the second rule was to stay inside during a blizzard. These rules were for elves and reindeer alike, and he’d blown it.

He’d only wanted to prove to old grandpa Dasher that he wasn’t a calf anymore and that he could lead the team this year. Grr. Humph. No, he had to be honest. He hadn’t been doing anything except bragging about his nose. Now he was lost, which just proved that he was exactly what Dasher said he was, a boastful calf.

He needed to prove to them that he was more than a glowing nose. He would find the stable. Maybe if he flew high enough, he’d see the lights from Santa’s Village. He leapt into the swirling snow and then flew in large circles. But the only light in this wasteland was his nose.

Bells? Are those sleigh bells? Rudolph turned toward the sound. A few moments later, he caught a glimpse of the freshly painted red sleigh and did a back flip. Yes! He was saved. However, none of those smug reindeer needed to know he’d been lost.

He flew alongside Dasher. “I can fly and see what I’m doing all by myself.”

“Rudolph,” Santa yelled, “you’ve been a naughty reindeer.”

Grr. He slowed his pace until he was even with Santa. “Sorry, Santa, but I just wanted to prove that I’m just as good as Dasher is. I want to lead the team this year. I’m not a calf any longer.”

“You may not be a calf,” Santa scolded, “but until you can learn to work with the team, you won’t be leading anything.”

He’d done it now. He’d gotten lost, lied about it, and upset Santa. Rudolph lowered his altitude and flew under the sleigh. There’s no way that he’d be allowed to make the trip this year let alone be allowed to lead it. What would he do now?

Two minutes later, the village appeared straight ahead. He hadn’t been that far away, and it wouldn’t be long before they landed. Then the other reindeer teased him again. Maybe he should run away. He could go to Chile and live with the Pudus. Nah, those deer are only twelve inches high, they probably wouldn’t want a reindeer three times their size hanging around.

The reindeer and the sleigh landed outside the stable door.

As the elves rushed about unhooking the reindeer from the sleigh, Rudolph dragged his hooves to his stall, nose no longer glowing. He laid in the corner with his back to the door and buried his nose in the straw covering the floor.

Five minutes later, or had it been an hour or even a day… Whatever, silence filled the stable. Maybe they’d left on the big trip?

His stall door creaked open, and someone entered. “Good morning, Rudolph,” Santa said. “You missed your breakfast. Are you okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Rudolph mumbled. “I’m sorry I acted like a foolish calf yesterday, bragging and showing off.”

“You know, my young friend, the spirit of Christmas isn’t in being perfect, or in leading the team. Nor is it in the giving of gifts.”

Rudolph raised his head and looked at Santa. “Really?”

“Yes. The true spirit of Christmas is in the love we show each other, and in spending time with friends and family. You’ve got a good heart. I realize that the other reindeer teased you and that you took off last night to prove you’re their equal. I’ve had a few words with them about their teasing. Now, I have a surprise for you. Come with me, please?”

Rudolph stood and followed Santa.

Santa took the reins and harness off its hook. Jingle jingle jingle. “Look,” he said. “Last night I had the elves modify the harness to add a spot for you in front of the team. However, as Dasher is the eldest, he’ll continue to lead the team. Do you understand?”

“Yes, and thank you, Santa.”

“You’re welcome. Now, go join the team.” Santa winked with a nod toward the stable door. “They’re outside for the annual six-legged race, and snowman building contest.

Twelve-year-old Lacey knelt beside her bed and pulled an old oak box out of its hiding spot. She ran her fingers over the moon in the center, the swirling lines, and the four stars, which had been carved in the top. When Aunt Sherri had given her the music box last weekend, she had said to keep it a secret as the box was old but very special.

She shook her head and whispered, “I don’t get it. It’s just an ordinary music box.” She turned the brass key and lifted the lid. A delicate, tinkling tune played. It also sounded like a normal music box. So, what was special about it? According to the worn sticker inside the lid, the song it played was called, “By the Light of the Silvery Moon.” Aunt Sherri had said that it was an antique, at least a hundred years old. She held it up to her nose and smell the wood. It didn’t have that funky smell like the antique store did, so maybe that was what made it special? She shrugged.

It must be a jewelry box or something as well, because it had an area big enough to hold a few beaded necklaces. She could use the music box to hide her important, private stuff. She rewound the key and set the box on her bed. While the music played, she looked over at the empty aquarium where her pet tortoise lived. “Trudy,” she said in an exasperated tone, “how on earth do you keep getting out?” Lacey looked in the closet, behind her furniture, and under the bed, but no Trudy.

She unpinned a picture of her tortoise from her corkboard and sat on her bed. With a nod of her head, she placed the picture in the box. Then as she closed the lid, she said, “I wish Trudy would come out of hiding.” She ran her hand over the smooth wood then knelt to return the box to its hiding spot under her bed.

Lacey gasped. She carefully tucked the box behind her nightstand and then picked up her tortoise. “Trudy, I know you weren’t there a moment ago. I specifically looked under the bed for you. Where did you come from?”

She put the tortoise back in her aquarium with some lettuce. Then she pulled the box back out of its hiding spot. “Hmm… I’ve gotta a theory, but what should I try?” She picked up a wilted flower from her dresser and twirled it in her fingers. “Hmm… I’ll try this.” Opening the box, she laid the flower inside. As she closed the lid, she said, “I wish the flower was alive again.” She rubbed the smooth wood and reopened the box. The flower was no longer wilted and in full bloom. She picked it up and smelled it. This music box was magic.

She placed a picture of her aunt in the box and said, “I wish Aunt Sherri would come for a visit,” closed the lid, and rubbed the box.

At first, she didn’t think anything had happened, but then there was a knock on her bedroom door. “Come in,” she called out. The door opened and Aunt Sherri entered

“Ah, I see you like the box I gave you.” Her aunt smiled and then in a conspiratorial whisper asked, “Have you figured out why it’s special yet?

“Yeah!” Lacey then told her about Trudy and the flower. “Then I wished for you to visit and here you are.”

“Ah! That makes sense. I was headed in the opposite direction and made a U-turn. Since your parents are working today, would you care to take a trip and see where I found that music box?”

“Really? Can I?”

Laughing, her aunt said, “Come on, kiddo.”

In the car, Lacey asked, “Does the music box magic only work on living things?”

“Well, I don’t know everything about it. Let’s test it. Pull it out of your bag.”

“Okay. How’re we gonna test it?”

“Take a twenty dollar bill out of my wallet, put it in the box, and then wish for two.”

“Okay.” Lacey did as she was instructed. She reopened the box and yelled, “Cool!” She held up two twenty-dollar bills. “I guess it does work on non-living things.”

“Good to know,” Aunt Sherri said, “but let’s not tell anyone, at all, about this. People would kill to get their hands on that box if they knew it could duplicate money.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes, then Aunt Sherri said, “Sorry, kiddo, but I think we should lock the music box up in a safe deposit box for safekeeping. It could be dangerous if someone found out about it. What do you think?”

“Fine. But can I keep the money?”

Chuckling, her aunt said, “Of course.”

Aunt Sherri pulled the car into an empty parking lot of an old apartment building and turned the engine off. She turned to face Lacey. “This old building is scheduled for demolition. We’ll explore, but we need to be careful in case it isn’t safe. Okay?”

“Yeah, but why is it gonna be torn down?”

“Well, kiddo, some rich guy wants the land to build a large hotel and casino. Come on.”

After walking around for a while, Lacey sat beside her aunt on the stairs. She rubbed the side of the box as she thought. “I think this building is special. I wish everyone could see this building for what it really is.”

The floor shook and the lights went out. Lacey screamed, dropped the box, and clung to her aunt. A minute later the shaking stopped, and the lights came back on.

She let go of her aunt and looked around. The building had changed. Instead of sitting on the staircase, they were sitting in soft chairs in what appeared to be the command center of a spaceship.

“Oh my,” Aunt Sherri said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait. My music box…” Lacey bent down to pick up the broken pieces, but they vanished as she reached for them.

Aunt Sherri grabbed Lacey’s arm. “We’ve gotta go! Now!”

Together they ran, but they couldn’t find their way out. It seemed like they were just running in circles, or like the walls kept moving to block them.

Lacey called out to her aunt. “Stop, I’m outta breath.” She bent over, placed her hands on her knees, and took a few deep breaths. “I wish I had a glass of water.” One appeared on the ground in front of her. Slowly, she picked up the glass and stared at it. “What’s going on here?”

A voice spoke from all around them. “This is my ship, my home. I came to your planet to learn about your people. I disguised my ship as a building and let your people live inside my walls so I could better understand humans. That was a hundred fifty years ago. Now it is time for me to go home.”

Lacey asked, “Um… Please let us out first?”

“If that is your wish. But I thought you wanted to see the stars?”

“Uh… No. That’s Okay. I wish Aunt Sherri and I were back in my bedroom.”

Lacey squinted as a brilliant light flashed in her face. When she reopened her eyes, she sat on her bed beside her aunt. “Wow! That was intense!” She looked at her aunt. “If only I’d wished for a million twenties when I had the chance.”

I’m a mystery writer named Breeanna Morris, or at least that’s what I’m trying to be. I came to the Houston Mesa Campgrounds a mile from Payson, Arizona, hoping that by coming here and getting away from all of life’s distractions, I might find some inspiration for my novel.

I’ve been here three days now and all I’ve done is sleep, eat, and stare at that stupid blinking cursor on my laptop. This morning, I packed my backpack with lunch and my laptop, and hiked through the Tonto National Forest on the Houston Mesa Nature Trail.

Even after a day of hiking and sitting on various logs and boulders, I came up empty on my word count. I guess I’ll have dinner in town again and charge my laptop while I eat. I don’t know, maybe I should just go home. Camping for inspiration hasn’t worked for me, and if I’m going to suffer from writer’s block, I’d rather suffer in the comfort of my own home.

I returned to my campsite to find a mystery. My tent, camping stove, and everything else, had been packed up and neatly stowed in my van. Who’d do such a thing? I opened the passenger side door. Wow! No dirt or pine needles on the floor. Everything was neatly packed, exactly like it had been when I arrived. Well, that is except for one thing. A filthy young boy wearing tattered khaki shorts, an army-green shirt, and no shoes crouched behind the driver’s seat.

“What’s your name, young man?”

His chocolate-colored eyes looked up at me as he hugged his brown knees. “Warrell.”

I nodded. “My name’s Breeanna. Why are you in my van?”

“Please. Take me with you?”

“Um… How old are you? Where are your parents?”

“I’m nine. I live in the campground, but I want a real home.”

“Did you pack my van?”

“Uh uh. It was already packed. I just crawled in and hid.” The kid shrugged. “Maybe that guy I saw creeping around earlier packed your stuff.”

Great! What should I do? Call the police, obviously. But what’s up with this kid? Is he telling the truth? I crossed my arms and meandered to the rear of my van. Did the kid really see a strange man?

Wait! What’s this? I picked up a cane, which leaned against the rear bumper. It was made of polished bone. I dropped it and ran to the front of the van, breathing hard. My left hand clasped at my chest as I wiped my right hand on my pants. Bone. Really? Who’d be sick enough to make a cane out of bone?

Crap! Now what? I pulled a note off my windshield with a shaky hand and unfolded it. It read, “I came. You shot. I died. It’s time for you to join me.”

I screamed.

Warrell jumped out of the van and ran off into the woods.

Maybe the kid’s right and some strange guy’s waiting to kidnap me. Or worse. I pulled out my cellphone and dialed 9 1 1.

“9 1 1, what’s your emergency?”

“My name’s Breeanna Morris and I’m at the Houston Mesa campground, spot six on Elk Loop. Someone was in my camp and left a cane made of bone along with a threatening note. I’m scared.”

“Alright, ma’am, please stay calm. A unit is headed your direction now. Please stay on the phone until the officers arrive. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.”

Five minutes later, a siren entered the campground and grew louder as it approached. The neighboring campers stepped to the edge of their spots and watched as the police car stopped at my campsite. The police turned the siren off but left the lights whirling. Two police officers exited the car. A muscular black man, and a short blonde woman.

“Ms. Morris?” the black officer asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you so much for coming. I’m scared. Someone packed up my campsite while I was hiking. They left a cane made of bone leaning against my rear bumper and this note on my windshield.” I handed him the note. “There was a kid in my van that said he saw a man creeping around earlier today.”

The officer read the note and passed it to his partner. Without a word, he headed to the rear of my van.

All the sudden a light bulb lit up deep inside my mind. Collette Summers, my roommate at Arizona State University… Yeah, she’d gone deer hunting our junior year and killed a big buck. She’d made a cane out of the deer’s leg bone for her grandfather as a joke. And when she had the stag’s head mounted, she’d engraved a plaque with, “I came. You shot. I died.” I’d always thought that plaque was creepy and inappropriate, but Collette had thought it funny.

As the male officer inspected the cane at the rear of my van, I looked over at the female officer. She had her head down, but she was fighting to keep from laughing. She kind of looked like…like…

“Collette?” I asked.

She looked up and said, “Surprise, Bree.”

“Did you write that note?” I asked pointing at the note in her hand. “And the cane too?”

She nodded as she doubled over laughing.

“Why?”

A moment later, she pulled herself together and said, “Why not?” Collette waved at her partner, and he headed back to their car with the cane in his hand. “Look, I’ve gotta get back to work now, but I’d like to catch up with you over dinner, and I’d like you to go deer hunting with me this year. Whatcha say?”

“Dinner,” I said with a nod. “But you’re buying. I’ll meet you at Macky’s Grill at 6:30 and we’ll talk about the deer hunting thing.”

Collette nodded with a smile.

“So, what about the kid?”

“Warrell’s my neighbor. I paid him twenty dollars to be a red herring and hide in your van.” Laughing hard, Collette walked back to the police car.

I shook my head. My friend had given me a mystery to work with. With some tweaks, that stupid blinking cursor would be kept busy. I sat down at the picnic table, pulled a pad of paper out of my backpack and took notes.