Instinct Trust

Here is a story I wrote last night that I really want some honest feedback on. I think it starts out well but falls flat at the end (mainly the last three paragraphs). I also don't like the title. Any ideas of how to fix this without making it much longer?

I checked my watch for the tenth time and drummed my fingers impatiently on the bridge railings. I had three seconds, if he wasn’t here in time, I was—shuddering I forced the thought out of my mind and began to concentrate on the silvery fish splashing in the river below me. 

“Excuse me, do you have a light?”  A low rough sounding voice asked from behind me.

I turned around anxiously scanning the face, hat, and rumpled clothing of a field hand--was this him?

“I’m sorry; I don’t make it a policy to carry matches on me.”

“That’s okay I guess.” The man graveled and walking over to the railings he too leaned dirty elbows on them and began scanning the horizon.

I looked to either side of me at the roads leading on and off the bridge. No one else was in sight. Glancing at my watch I saw that it was the exact planned time of the meeting. So then this had to be the man but why had he not given the pre-appointed signal?

“Lovely evening.” I offered lamely.

He looked at me for a moment from under his dilapidated derby and then back out towards the far distant mountains. “Yes.”

I sighed and slumped my shoulders, tired after a long day’s journey and wishing he would just get down to the point.

“Do you like to come here of an evening?”  I tried again.

“No.”

This was going nowhere quickly. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and cleared my throat.

“We don’t like strangers around here.” His voice didn’t sound threatening, simply informative and he bent down to scratch his leg.

I licked my lips and rubbed my hands together unsure what I should respond.

“They bring crime with them.”

“I understand.” I nodded my head and tried to look sympathetic, where was he going with this? “I’ll only be here for a few hours so you won’t have to worry about me.”

“Those are the worst types. Come, rob and are off before you can get back what they stole.”

“Oh.” I chewed on my lip.

“Why are you here?” He shifted his gaze to look me strait in the face one greasy hand slouched into a half torn pocket.

“Traveling through on my way to Vlandeze.” I forced myself not to drop my eyes guiltily.

“Didn’t they tell you this area was not keen on new comers?” I could tell he doubted me.

“No.”

“They did tell you that this is an unused back road in a town twenty miles out of the beaten path for Vlandeze though didn’t they.” His gravel had lowered into something resembling more of a growl.

I forced myself to look him boldly in the eye. “Yes.”

He grunted and turned back to the mountains. “That was the first honest answer you have given me tonight.”

“Yes.” I admitted.

“Where are you from?”

“I grew up out in the country near Gomer.  Lived on a farm most of my life.”

“Did you? Which end of a cow gets up first?”

I blinked and faltered. “The f-front end.”

“Never lived on a farm for an hour in your life. Back end.”

“Oh.” I was doing a terrible job with this and he knew it.

“Do you have any papers from the city?” he was still turned sideways to me, looking way up river his derby on crooked hiding his eyes from my view.

My heart jumped and skipped a few beats. Finally he said the signal but why had he waited so long. My suspicions were aroused but I couldn’t stand here bantering all night, I had extreme shortage of time.

“No. I’m sorry.” The words startled me. They were not the signal answer that I had intended to give. “I-I don’t read papers much myself.”

He shot a quick sharp look at me and I could tell my answer surprised him too.

“What is the real reason you’re here for boy?” his growl was very threatening.

“Made some enemies in the camps and don’t want to have any meetings with them.” It was true enough though I had left out a few major details.

He bristled like a wounded tiger. “All the more reason we don’t want you around here, Convict! You better let me see a clean pair of heels mighty fast boy.”

Why hadn’t I given him the correct answer? Now it would seem out of place if anyone where secretly listening but I really need to get him those papers. If caught with them by certain people I would—I again shoved the idea out of my mind. Something had made me not trust him. Something inside me still screamed danger. Without a backwards look I showed him the heels he asked for.

 A week later found me a mile outside of Vlandeze worn down to a frazzle but safe and sound with the papers. They had caused constant terror for me and I was sure at several different times I was being followed but I had always succeeded in losing my shadow and today I was near headquarters.

  As I stepped into the office my boss took one look at me and jumped out of his chair.

“Tieniat!” He grasped my hand excitedly. “We all thought you were dead. They set a con on your trail. One they say is real crafty and the day after you were supposed to deliver you package one of ours found the guy you were supposed to deliver it to murdered in a field and without the papers on him! We all thought the con had killed you both and gotten the papers.”

My breath caught in my throat. So my instincts had proved me right, that man was no good. After I had finally given him a satisfactory answer he must have decided I wasn’t the right man and hoping to get rid of me in case the real guy came along he assumed a threatening demeanor. Boy if he had only understood, I was in the camps as a guard, the enemies I had made were the cons I was guarding, and that I now worked as an agent for the king—I smiled and handed my boss the papers. It was nice not to have to think about that anymore.

Sisters

    “Hannah, please,” I wrung my hands desperately as I looked back at the house.  If my mom heard my little sister’s yells and came out, man, I would get it.  

    My sister opened her mouth even louder and let out another screech.  

    “Come one.  It’s not that bad,” I brushed at her dirty shirt and pants.  How was I suppose to know that she would do something stupid like run down the hill with a bucket of mud.  Well, maybe I could have carried it down for her, but that was beside the point.  “Listen, I’ll take you inside and clean you up and then everything will be alright.”

   She glared at me and wiped a grubby hand across her face.  “It’s your fault!  Mommy!”

    Oh great.  Mom must have heard that one and I know exactly what will happen when mom comes out.  Hannah will blame it all on me.  Perhaps it’s time for Plan B.  I picked up the screaming Hannah and took off for the woods.  How could one be accused of an act if there was no evidence?

    It didn't take long for me to find the creek.  I plopped Hannah down in the middle of it.  The shock of cold water running over her legs made her shut her mouth.  It’s about time. 

    “W-what are you doing?” she watched my hands as they quickly splashed water across her clothing trying to get the dirt to wash off.

    “Cleaning you off, what does it look like?” I snapped.

    “Hannah?  Mary?” my mom’s voice rung through the trees.

    Oh no!  Oh no! 

    “There y’all are, I was looking for y-“ her shocked gaze looked at Hannah and then at me.  “Mary!  What are you doing to your sister?!”

    I pasted an innocent look on my face.  “Cleaning her up.”

    Hannah nodded her little face working its magic. 

    My mom sighed, “There are better ways to do that.  Come on Hannah.  Let’s get you back to the house.”

    Yes!  I felt like doing a dance right there in the creek.

    “And Mary, after I clean Hannah up you will tell me what happened.  What really happened.”  

Author's Tip

Here is a tip my sister, who is a published author, passed on to me.

If you are writing a long story or a book, never, ever tell someone else the ending. You don't really want to tell the the plot either because, whether you realize it or not, it takes away the urge to finish the story. If you're writing an allegory, never tell someone what it's an allegory of let them figure it out themselves. To force yourself to finish a story or a book, send it to a friend, as you write it, who will continue to bug you for more until you finish it! Believe me, I know this is true because I have hundreds of unfinished stories that I lost steam for after telling someone else the plot.

The Dawning of Truth--6

    “Excuse me, M’lady.”

    Elise looked up from Sike’s body into the face of a warrior.  That was the only way to describe him.  A scar portrayed itself prominently on one side of his face, yet, it only made him look more rugged and handsome.  His skin was deeply tanned and weathered confirming that most of his time was spent outdoors.  “Yes?” she straightened up wishing she looked a bit more elegant.

    “The king wishes to meet with you.” 

    “Oh, yes, of course.”  As if I am in any condition to meet anyone!  Much less the king!  Her clothes were covered with dirt and blood.  Men’s blood.  Her legs trembled.  The fact that she was carrying a person's life blood around on her clothes made her feel nauseous. 

    The man stepped forwards and grasped her arm.  “Are you alright M’lady?”

    “Yes,” she took a deep breath and smiled stiffly.  “I’m quite ready to see the king now.”

    They began their trek over the once beautiful field.  Where flowers had been there was only blood.  Where grass had grown there were only dead bodies.  She bit her lip.  Think about something else!  “What is your name?”

    “Glorne.  Yours?” he turned his steady gaze on her.

    “Elise.”

    They remained silent until they reached a tight knot of men.  Glorne cleared his throat.  “Your Majesty, may I introduce Elise the leader of the dragons.”

    The men parted until a young man became visible.  Oh my.  He is much younger than I imagined.  She started to bow when he waved his hand, “No need for formalities.  In truth, I should probably be the one bowing to you.”  He stepped closer, exhaustion plain on his face.  “We owe you our lives.”

    Elise managed a small smile.  All she wanted right now was to be in her cave dressed in fresh garments with a bowl of fruit in her lap.  “I am honored that I was able to help.”

    “Will you please walk with me?”

   She hesitated then took the proffered arm.  They walked in silence for a moment before the king continued, “I would very much like for you to return with me to my castle.  Wait,” he held up a finger to keep her from interrupting, “You must understand my amazement seeing those dragons dive out of the sky to our rescue.  Now, while I can’t honor every dragon, I can certainly honor the one who rides with them.  Besides, I would like to know whether you wish to fight with us, or return from where you came from.”

    What would Vaender tell me to do? She sighed, He would tell me to go.  “I would be most honored my king.”

    “Thank you, and please don’t call me my king.  My name is Sondone.  Please use it,” he leaned down and 

kissed her hand.  “We will be leaving within the hour.”

    “Then I must depart and see to the dragons.  I will return shortly.”  She bobbed her head then returned back to the battle field.  A stirring in her palm brought her to a halt.  “Sike!” 

    The little dragon raised his head and looked at her through glazed eyes.

    “Are you alright?”

    “I feel as if every bone in my body were broken.”  He groaned.

    She cuddled him.  “I’ll try to find Loar.”

    A pale flash appeared in her vision.  “Vaender!” relief flooded through her at the sight of the pale dragon.  She ran to him as he landed. 

    He gently nosed her forehead, “Are you alright?”

    “Yes, oh, I need to find Loar.  Sike is hurt and the king wants me to go with him to his castle.  I agreed.  We will be leaving soon.  Did I do the right thing?”

    An odd expression crossed his face.  It was as if he were sad and proud of her at the same time.  “Yes, you did the right thing.  In fact, I had already figured that would happen.  You are a very important person now.  You rule the dragons.”

   “No one rules the dragons.”

   He rolled his eyes, “You and I understand that, but they probably never will.  At least, not for awhile.  They weren't raised by dragons.  Now, as far as Sike is concerned, I know where Loar is.  In fact, she should probably go with you.  By what means are you traveling?”

    “I don’t know.”

    “Well, perhaps you should suggest that dragons be used.”

    Her eyes brightened.  She would greatly prefer that type of transportation than anything else the king could come up with.  “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea.  Can you find Loar while I mention it to him?” 

    Laender nodded and took off into the sky. 

    Sondone was very taken with the idea.  Soon they were both in the air.  She on Laender and he on Vilma.  Loar, another minor dragon, sat on her shoulder while Sike lay cupped closed to her body.  The last of their party was Andreagan who insisted on coming along as well.

    The steady beat of wings soon lulled her weary body to sleep.

The Dawning of Truth--5

    Elise opened her eyes.  Above her leaves from the trees wove a delicate lace like pattern.  “Vaender?”  Sitting up, she glanced around.  Nothing.

    Her muscles screamed a complaint as she stood to her feet.  They were not used to the vigors of sword fighting with another human.  The grass grew freely beneath the trees, covered in places with a small layer of leaves.  Flowers dotted the carpet here and there.  Through the trees glimpses of a drop off could be seen.  She ran towards it.  Perhaps that was where Vaender waited.  As she cleared the trees, she could hear the clanging sound of metal against metal.  Below her, in a large meadow a heated battle was going on between the Viskens, and her people, the Matrecks. 

    “Well?” Sike landed on the ground next to her.

    Her eyebrows shot up.  “How did you get here?”

    “Vaender told me, but that is beside the point.  Elise, you can’t wait any longer, you have to decide now.  The Matrecks are losing, badly.  If we are going to help, it will have to be now, right now.”

    She shook her head vigorously.  “I can’t.”

    “Arg!” Sike shot a flame of fire from his mouth.  “You can.  You just have to decide on whether you are willing to forgive.”

     The turmoil had built within her over the years and now she was about to lose it.  “You,” she threw her hand out.  “You don’t understand.  I hate this country.”

    “No, you don’t, you hate the king, the king that is now dead.  You must get past this Elise!  You must!  Everything could be counting on you!”

    Lips quivering she whispered, “If I let go of the bitterness, I don’t think I will be able to live any longer.  It is the only thing that made me fight to live.  If I let go, I won’t care anymore.” 

    Sike flapped his wings till he was on her level.  “If you let go, you can still live.  You are just too afraid to try.”

    His firm words made her cringe.  He was right.  Yet, how could she just let go.  It wasn’t that easy.  It would take months for her to fully let go, and even then she wasn’t sure she would be healed. 

    Come to me.

    Elise jerked.  Where had those words come from?

    Lay all your burdens on me.

   Who are you?  Her brow wrinkled.

    Come to me; lay your burdens down, the voice repeated.

    She moaned in confusion and fell to her knees.  I don’t know how! 

    Let go.  Forgive.

    Help me. 

    Eyes closed tightly, she whispered, “I forgive him.”  First she was warm, then she was cold, then like a fountain bursting up joy sprung out of her heart.  She laughed.  “It’s gone!  I forgave him!”  The laugh turned into a giggle as she threw herself back on the grass.  “It’s gone!  And, even more, I-I feel like new!”  She opened her eyes.  Above her the sky shone a deep beautiful blue.  It too seemed to be rejoicing at her new found joy.

    “Ahem.” 

    “Oh,” she jerked upright biting back a giggle.  “Sorry, I forgot about you.  Yes, yes, we must help.”  A wide smiled burst across her face.  “Can you get the other dragons?” she scrambled to her feet.

    “I think, actually, we are already ready.”

    “Vaender!”  she threw her arms around the dragon’s large scaly neck. 

    He laughed.  “Shouldn’t we go now?”

    “Yes, of course.  I wish I had dressed in something more suitable for battle,” she glanced down at her long green dress and the braided belt that she wore around her waist.  A perfectly suitable outfit for most things, but not for fighting.  “Oh well.  Sike, do you want to ride with me?”

    “That would be nice.”  He landed on her shoulder and looked at her with kingly pride.

    “Alright,” authority entered her voice.  “Let’s go.”  She scrambled up on to Vaender’s back.  Up in the air dragons of every color size and shape, numbering close to two hundred, waited for her to lead the charge.  As Vaender gained altitude, she shouted, “The large dragons will go in first and spray the Visken’s ranks with fire.  Then you smaller ones will come in and take out as many as you can.  Make sure you use fire breathing skills sparingly.”  The length of time a dragon could breathe fire varied depending on their size and age.  The large dragons, like Vaender, could do it almost none stop for hours, but the smaller one’s endurance was much less.

    Roars of agreement filled the air.  She drew her sword and pointed forward.  “Attack!”  As with one voice, the dragon’s roared then dove towards the ground.  Veander twisted around a few times as they headed for the battle.  Behind and around her, the others followed. 

    Adrenaline pumped wildly through her veins.  Some of the Viskens were turning, eyes filled with fear.  “Attack from the rear!” the cry carried through the ranks.  A burst of fire from the dragons silenced part of one side.  Some of the smaller dragons plunged into the ranks, then lept out before a sword or spear could touch them.  Elise readied her sword as Vaender swooped down and landed in the midst of the soldiers.  They stared, mouths open, faces pale.   Elise hesitated, then swung her sword injuring one.  The falling of one of their own jolted them into action.  They rushed towards her.  She blocked their blows as Vaender used his tail to disable others. 

    One brave soldier dodged Vaender’s head, grabbed Elise’s leg, and jerked down onto the ground.  She threw a wild blow at the soldier before a large wing quickly covered everything from view.  Thanks Vaender.  Even while he was fighting he thought only of her protection.  A spear stabbed through the wing bringing a roar.  Yet, his wing stayed firmly in place. 

    Elise ran out from beneath his protection and began swinging wildly.  The soldier in front of her jumped backwards as a black object flew into his face.  Elise quickly cut him down.  Sike grinned at her and flew at another soldier.  They repeated the same process over and over.

    “Elise!” Vaender’s voice pierced through her concentration. 

    She turned.  Oops.  The path she had taken had brought her far away from him, almost to the edge of the clearing.  She held up a finger then turned and looked for Sike.  “Sike!”  she blocked a man’s blow then swung her sword low and cut him on the thigh.  Another person appeared beside her she turned to face him as Sike flew at his face.  The man didn’t hesitate.  With a blow from his sword Sike lay limp on the ground.  “No!” her eyebrows drew together as she prepared to fight him. 

    He twirled his sword, “M’lady, I hope I did not upset your plans any.” 

   She glanced at the crest on his breastplate and nearly groaned.  He was a general.  She didn’t stand a chance.  Perhaps it was time to take a different tactic.  Run!  “Not at all, I was hoping for some more refined company.”  With one hand she scooped Sike up while keeping an eye on the general.

    “That’s good because you may be with me for awhile.”

   “Doubtful.”  She jumped backwards and turned to escape.  One hand grabbed her arm that held the sword while the other hand firmly removed it from her grasp.

    He smiled charmingly at her.   “A little lady like you should not be carrying around such a big knife.  Perhaps I-”  A horn blasted through the air sounding his army’s retreat.

    “General, a horse.”  A very nervous man ran up leading a gray horse while he glanced cautiously at the sky. 

    The general sighed.  “I don’t have to time to deal with you,” he muttered, shoving her away.  He leapt onto the horse’s back and galloped off.  Elise almost crumpled in relief.  The Viskens were leaving.  Her people had won.

    She was alone now, standing in a corner of the field.  The air was filled with dragons that had taken flight during the retreat.  Half of the Matreck army were chasing the Viskens while the rest were gathering up weapons, horses, and helping the wounded.

     Vaender was nowhere in sight.  “Perhaps he’s chasing the Visken’s,” she rubbed Sike’s limp head.  She needed to fine Loar.  Loar would know how to help the poor little fellow.   

Human Training for Doggies

Here's my post for the challenge. I believe this is one of my shorter short stories.

 Humans are strange creatures. Quite boring sometimes. They only ever tell you the same thing over and over again. Things like, “Good dog,” or, “You're such a good boy, Snickers. Yes you are. Yes you are.” Pitiful really, the way humans can be suckered into doing what you want. It just takes a little training. (Of course, they think they are the ones doing the training.) There are just a few simple steps you have to take to train your human. First of all, make sure they think you're doing what they want. If they say “sit,” then do it. Then accept the treat, patting, attention, or whatever reward they give you. I know it's quite lame; but here's the trick: if you always do what you're told, then you can get a way with a lot of things when they aren't looking. If something goes wrong, the blame will be placed elsewhere. For example, I'm going to tell you a story about my experience with human training.

One day as I was bathing in the afternoon sun, completely relaxed and dreaming of ham bones, a bright orange bullet whizzed through the air and struck me on my precious nose. I yelped and leaped to my paws. A little boy with spiky red hair and a plethora of freckles stood laughing obnoxiously at me, a toy gun in his hands. I lowered my ears and tucked my tail between my legs. The boy let loose another bullet that struck me on the backside. I released a low growl, threatening him. He just continued to laugh, enjoying my misery. I thought he was going to shoot me again, when a little girl with brown curly pigtails stepped in his way. She dropped to her knees and cuddled my head. The dizzying smell of some washing detergent drifted up my nose. Why humans smothered everything they owned in flowery scents never made sense to me. Flowers were for bees. If I were human, I would make everything bacon scented.

“Be nice to the puppy, Riley,” the little girl bossed.

“I don't have to do what you say,” the boy stuck out his tongue. “Besides, he likes it.”

“No he doesn't. I'm going to tell mommy!” she argued back, still choking me. I was sandwiched between a boy who wanted my misery and a toddler who seemed to think I couldn't take care of myself. That's when I got my brilliant idea. I would make them pay.

That night when everybody was in bed, I carried out my wondrous plan. I jumped off my pillow and headed to the little girl's room first. Sniffing around the room, I searched for that little doll of hers, the one she took with her almost everywhere. A familiar plastic smell met my nose. Ah-hah! I dragged poor Barbie down the hallway to the little boy's room. Then it was time for the fun part. Holding the doll between my paws, I took a mouthful of its hair and yanked. The delightful sound of ripping and snapping met my ears. Perfect. I scattered the hair across the carpet. Next I dragged that horrid gun of his out my doggie door and buried it in the far corner of the yard. Then I spotted a couple of those orange bullets. Easy peasy. I'd get rid of those in a couple of bites. Thy didn't taste all that bad. When my task was finished, I reentered the house and climbed the stairs to the dad's office, and that is where I am now, typing out this wondrous scheme for you on his handy dandy laptop. My little family will wake up tomorrow morning, and all will be chaos. Little Pigtails will be in tears blaming Riley, and he'll claim she hid his gun. Mom will be perfectly stressed, and Dad will ground the kids. Plain and simple. No one will ever discover my little secret because I'm normally a perfectly good doggie. (Except, of course, for you, my fine dog blog readers.)

The Dawning of Truth--4

    Something lightly brushed her cheek.  Elise lept to her feet fear coursing through her veins. 

    “Calm down.  It is only me.”

    She groaned.  “Sike.  You scared me to death.  What are you doing waking me up?” 

    “I want to show you something.”  His black shape flitted about the cave.

    Mind foggy with sleep she muttered.  “Now?  It’s nighttime.  I should, you should, be sleeping.” 

    “Just come.  And get your sword.”

    Outside of the cave, the bright moonlight bathed the cliffs and crags that surrounded her.  “Which way?”

    “Head towards Benzan.”

    She bit back a retort.  Oh, yeah, let’s just forget the fact that it is across the valley, a good distance away.

    The stillness of the night was only broken by Sike’s wings and her footsteps.  The dark shawdows of trees surrounded them as they made their way up the mountain side to the clearing on top.  “There, we made it.”  She collapsed belly down on the grass.  “So, what do you have to show me?”

    Fear filled Sike's voice.  “Look.”

    Far away under the starry sky lights flickered.  “Campfires.”  Her pulse quickened.  “Whose are they?” 

    “The Viskens.  Elise, they are getting very close.  They will soon find our abode, if they haven’t all ready.”

    “What?  How?  No, no.  This can’t be happening.”  She rose to her feet, frustrated.  Her life was about to be torn apart again. 

    “You need to make a decision.  Soon.”

    “I-“  The crack of a branch cut off her words.  Her fingers latched around her sword.  All was silent.  Then, from behind, footsteps approached.  She whirled, her sword sliding out of the sheath with a metallic ring.  Sike hissed from nearby then a tiny ball of fire shot from his mouth.  It wasn’t much, but enough for her to block the man’s blow.  A loud clang filled the clearing. 

    “Come on.  Put down your sword,” the man before her growled.

    “I don’t think so.”  She surveyed her opponent trying to fight down rising panic.  The dragons had taught her to sword fight, but she had never fought against a flesh and blood human.  The man before her glowered as he took a step closer.  The way he held his sword, the way he walked, all screamed that he was a skilled swordsman. 

    “Well, then it appears I will have to change your mind.” His sword flew through the air towards her.

    All her training over the past years crashed over her like a wave.  She ducked and whirled away, using the momentum to swing a blow at him.  Their swords crashed together with a sound that reverberated through the small clearing.  He grinned then swung the sword at her head, forcing her to duck and step back.  A small stick beneath her foot rolled.  “Ah!” she hit the ground hard and rolled away as his sword soared down towards her.  He slammed the flat of his blade against her sword tearing it from her hand.  Cold steel rested against her neck. She stared at him, hate pouring out of every pore of her body.

     He poked her neck harder.  “It would seem I have won.” 

    Out of the corner of her eye, Elise spotted something.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.”  A pale body slammed into the man sending him flying. 

    “Come on.”  Vaender flapped his wings and landed on the ground.  “I think some of their guards heard the ruckus and are headed this way.”

    “Where’s my sword?  And where’s Sike?”

    “You’re sword is over there, and Sike is back with the rest of the dragons.  He came to get me.”

    She sheathed her sword and jumped onto the dragon’s back.  “Let’s go.”

    “Halt!” shadowy figures appeared from the woods.

    Vaender threw back his head and roared, shaking the ground.  With one large beat of his wings they were airborne.  Behind them the clearing was quickly swallowed up by the darkness.  “Hey, we are headed the wrong way, the valley is that way.”

    “Do you want to lead them to it?  We want to keep it a secret for as long as possible!” 

    “Oh.”

    The air grew chillier as they rose up high in the sky.  “There’s their camp.”

    Elise huddled close to the dragon, trying to warm herself.  She hadn't dressed for a night of flying.  Down below the fires grew near until they were flying right above them.  “There sure are a lot of them.” 

    Vaender remained silent for a moment studying the camp.  “The king will need our help.  You realize that don’t you?”

    “Yes.”

    He grunted.

The Adventures of Catherine Cricket #1

 I had originally started writing these as a series of children's stories shortly after Grace visited me recently. They are using a nickname she somehow picked up while down here and an old nickname of mine. I had been planning on writing more and giving them to her for her birthday but I decided I would go ahead and at least post this first one for the challenge. I suppose a cricket counts as an animal.

The Adventures of Catherine Cricket

Catherine Cricket was a beautiful little cricket with a hard brown shell. She lived under a large rock with her two parents and six siblings were sometimes on summer nights she would sing her heart out in her beautiful voice. She had a good friend, who lived in a grass house not too far away, named Liddy Ladybug. She and Catherine liked to play together. One day Liddy told her mother “Mommy, I want to have a tea party. Will you call Catherine’s mother and ask if Catherine can come to it? I would also like to have some other friends like Liddy Locust and Hanny Hopper.” So Catherine was invited to Liddy’s tea party.

As Catherine arrived at the party she found herself feeling rather shy. There was a new girl named Hanny that she didn’t know. After food was passed around by Liddy’s older sister she began to feel more comfortable but when Liddy suggested they play “Musical Tea Pots” she began to feel shy again. She had never heard of the game and was rather scared about trying new games with people she didn’t know. It wasn’t a hard game though and when her mother came to get her she didn’t want to leave. Feeling very prim and stiff she smiled a quiet good bye to Liddy and left.

More Adventures of Catherine Cricket to come!

Anyone Want Some Nuts?

This story is actually based on something that happened to me and my family when we were camping and yes, I know it is short.  Enjoy!  Oh, and here is a pic of that cute little squirrel.

    The jackpot.  I twitched my small nose searching for any scent that those humans were nearby.  Up above me on a table, balanced against the side of a camper, I could see it:  a big can of nuts.  Wait till my friends heard about this.  They would never believe me.  With another glance around I scrabbled up onto the table.  It rocked slightly from my sudden weight.  Head outstretched I waited and watched.  Nothing moved.  I was alone. 

    There it lay in front of me, within my reach.  I paused and sighed, enjoying the moment.  Never in my live had I seen nuts in a container, a clear one at that.  Yet, there they were, waiting for a hungry little squirrel to eat them.  A little squirrel like me. 

    I clicked my teeth together in anticipation then bit down on the corner of the lid.  Humans were so ignorant.  Did they really think they could keep me and my sharp teeth from getting into their food?  I steadily gnawed away as a pile of blue shavings gathered around my feet. 

    The smell of nuts wafted out of the container.  I paused for moment and sniffed.  It smelled so good, so magnificent, so-

    “Shoo!” 

    I whirled, surprised.  So intent I had been on my work I had not seen those hated humans approaching.  One ran towards me, waving its arms.  “Go!  Get out of here!” 

    That’s what I did.  I jumped from the table and ran for the nearest tree, climbing it as fast as my little paws could move.  Down below me I heard laughter.  I sighed.  I had been so close.  It had been right there.  But now here I was with no nuts. 

    Another glance down at the campsite told me that there would be no more chances to get into those nuts.  They were being put safely away.  I narrowed my eyes.  Till next time, humans.

Whistling Through the Air

Here's a story I wrote about a year ago that I thought I could post for the 3rd challenge!

Whistling Through The Air

The sun shone brightly on the prairie grasses swaying gently in the late afternoon breeze on a stretch of pasture land near Wilroads Gardens, Kansas.  A tantalizing aroma filled the air as industrious coyotes scurried back and forth amongst the campfires in the middle of the camp.  At the center of the campfires was the largest campfire, and hanging over it was a large pot, it’s contents boiling dangerously close to the rim.  About fifty yards from the campfires was the head coyote’s den, and continuing in a circle around the campfires were all the other dens.  Halfway around the circle was Cornelius the Coyote’s den. 
    A large coyote with coarse brown fur lay stretched out in front of the den, enjoying the warm sun.  This coyote was Cornelius.  He was snoring loudly, twitching occasionally when he came to a good part in his dream.  He was dreaming of the upcoming annual football game that pitted the Clever Coyotes against the Daring Deer clan.  Although that was their official name, Cornelius secretly called them the Dense Deer.  He was dreaming up strategies in case the Whitetail Deer brought along their cousins, the Mule Deer.  Cornelius especially loathed the Mule Deer, because they always jumped right over the coyotes and bounced into the end zone untouched.  Just as Cornelius was reaching the climax of his dream, he was startled awake by his two brothers, Cardell and Colgate. 
    “Wake up, Cornelius, what are ya doin’ sleeping?  It’s almost supper time and someone needs to go make sure the yucca juice is boiling.”  Cardell said, giving Cornelius a shove.  Cornelius sprang up, glaring at Cardell.
    “Ah, why can’t someone else do it?  You know I hate yucca juice.  Why anyone likes it is a mystery to me.  The very name describes it!  Yucca, yuck!”
    “Stop trying to be funny, Cornelius.”
    “Yadda yadda.  What are we having for supper anyway?  I hope it’s fried rabbit with mice filet.”
    “Sorry.  We’re having gopher stew with flapjacks.”  Colgate said.
    “Sure hope we have plenty of Juneberry syrup.  Plain flapjacks are the epitome of dull, colorless food.”  Cornelius sighed.
    “You ran us out of Juneberry syrup yesterday, Cornelius.  We only have maple syrup.”  Cardell informed him.   
    “WHAT?  Oh yuck!  I can’t stand maple syrup!”  Cornelius groaned.
    “Well, you’ll have to get over it.  Now go on, the yucca juice won’t make itself!”
    Cornelius narrowed his eyes in disgust and slowly trudged over to the vile smelling pot that contained the boiling yuccas.  As he stirred, his stomach began to growl angrily.
    “Ah, forget it!  I can’t stand this any longer!  I’ve gotta go hunt myself a rabbit!”  With that, Cornelius dropped the stirring stick into the pot and trotted off.
      --- 
    In a den on the other side of the pasture, Ruchika the Rabbit was going through lessons with her three bunnies, Reed, Ryden, and Ritha.  They were momentarily stuck on a particularly hard math question. 
    “Ma, it’s just too hard!”  Ryden whined, stamping his foot in frustration. 
    “Yeah, Ma, make Ritha do it, she’s the one with all the math smarts.”  Reed exclaimed, throwing his writing stick on the ground and turning to face Ritha.
    “Oh, well, if that’s the case, then you have to do all the readin’, and Ryden has to do all the writin’!”  Ritha said, turning her nose up in a smug smile.
    “Now, now, children, settle down.  All three of you must do your fair share of all the subjects, not just one.”  Ruchika sighed and looked at the three frustrated faces. 
    “All right, we’ll take a short break and come back to this later.”  Reed, Ryden and Ritha whooped for joy and then settled down to play with their various toys.  Ruchika stored her supplies in the school cabinet and then got up to start supper.  She heard a faint rustling and glanced over her shoulder at the door.  Nothing.  Nonetheless, something didn’t feel quite right, so she set the flour bag down on the counter and moved towards the door.  As she opened the door, she caught a glimpse of a large coyote sniffing around the den.  Ruchika gasped and slammed the door, leaning hard against it, her heart pounding.  She felt the coyote scratching at the door.
    “What’s wrong, Mommy?”  Ritha asked suddenly, looking up from her dolls.  Ruchika gulped, struggling to keep the door closed.  Her mind raced, trying to think of a way to save her baby rabbits.  She wouldn’t be able to hold the door much longer.  Suddenly, an idea popped into her head.  It was risky, but she had to save her three R’s. 
    “Stay here, and don’t come outside!”  She firmly instructed the three wide-eyed rabbits.  Then she took a deep breath and burst out of the door, speeding away across the prairie.  She glanced back to make sure the coyote was following her, and then sped on.
    Ruchika ran and ran, her mind spinning with ideas.  She knew she couldn’t outrun the coyote.  But she did know what she could do.  She ran until she was sure she was far enough away from her den, and then, summoning all her courage, she stopped short and whirled around to face the coyote.
          --- 
    Fifteen minutes earlier…
    Cornelius was getting hungrier and hungrier, and getting madder than a hornet with each minute that passed.  He’d better find a rabbit, and find it soon.  He stopped short, sniffing the air.  He caught a whiff of something and rustled around, trying to find the scent.  Then he found it!  It led straight to a den that was hollowed out of a little hill.  Cornelius smiled in satisfaction.  Now all he had to do was figure out how to get the rabbit out of the den.  He scratched at the door, trying to think of a good idea.  Then all of a sudden the door burst open and a plump rabbit raced out.  Cornelius started to follow the rabbit, but then he got a glimpse of three little rabbits huddled inside the den.  He considered getting them, but then decided against it.  The one that ran was nice and fat, and besides, he’d always loved a good chase.  So he sped after the fleeing rabbit.
    He was just closing in when suddenly the rabbit skidded to a stop and whipped around, looking him in the eye.  What?  Cornelius’s eyes widened in surprise and his brows furrowed in confusion.  But then his hunger overcame his curiosity and he crouched to leap on the rabbit.
    “Now you just wait a minute there!”  Shrieked a shrill little voice.  Cornelius froze and gulped when he realized it was the rabbit who had spoken.
    “W-what? You can -- talk?”  Cornelius sputtered.
    “Of course I can!  What, you think only coyotes can talk?”  The rabbit sneered, but Cornelius detected a slight shaking in the otherwise confident tone.
    “Well, no, I’m smarter than that.  I suppose you have a name and all that, too.”  Cornelius eyed the rabbit.
    “Well, of course!”  The rabbit exclaimed.  “My name is Ruchika.”
    “Ru-Ru-- Ru WHAT?” Cornelius stuttered.
    “Oh never mind, just call me Ika.”  The rabbit replied.  “And what is your name?”
    “I-I’m Cornelius.”  Cornelius narrowed his eyes, wondering if this rabbit was trying to trick him.               
    “Cornelius.  That’s a long name.  Can I call you ‘Li’?” 
    Cornelius snorted.  “No, I abhor that name.”
    “How about ‘Nel’?  Or ‘Lius’?”
    “No, and no!  Nel sounds too much like Nellie and Lius rhymes with Prius.  I detest those cars!”  Cornelius glared at the rabbit.
    “Okay, how about ‘Corny’?”
    “NO!”  Cornelius said emphatically.  “Would you stop that?  You’re aggravating me, and when I get aggravated and hungry at the same time it’s not a pretty sight for little rabbits like you.”
    Ruchika reared back and quickly apologized.
    “But you can’t eat a rabbit who talks to you.  Besides, you know those really tasty rabbits you come across every once in awhile?”
    “Yeah, why?”
    “Well, I’m one of the last of that long line of tasty rabbits, and if you ate me, there wouldn’t be anyone to carry on that line.”
    “Ha!  There are those three little rabbits of yours back in your den.”  Cornelius grinned slyly, licking his chops.
    “But if you ate me, there would be no one to raise them, and they would die, too.”
    “What about their daddy?  He could raise them.”
    “He got run down by a wolf a few weeks back.”
    “Oh.  Sorry to hear that… One less rabbit for me to eat.”
    Ruchika gasped, shocked at his cruel lack of sympathy.
    “Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’m getting hungrier and hungrier, and I aim to get me a rabbit cookin’ in no time.  Preferably one that’s easy to catch.  Like you.”
    “B-but, you don’t have any Juneberry syrup.  Everyone ‘round these parts knows that Cornelius the Coyote must have Juneberry syrup on everything he eats.”
    “I’ll just jog over to the general store an’ get some.  No problem.”
    Ruchika thought a moment, and then said,
    “Say, Cornelius, you know that upcoming game against the deer?”
    “Yeah, but don’t you try to change the subject on me.”
    “Well, I was over on their side of the pasture the other day, and I came across a packet that some careless deer had dropped.  It had their strategies in it.”
    Cornelius’s ears perked up, and he leaned closer.
    “Oh?  And what does this have to do with me?”
    “Well… We could call a truce.  In trade for that packet of strategies, you would have to agree to leave me and my baby rabbits alone.”
    Cornelius pondered this.  It was a very tempting idea, but it wouldn’t accomplish his main goal: supper. 
    “Well, I don’t know, Ika.  I’d still be hungry.”
    “Well, I was getting to that.  You see, I was just starting supper when you interrupted.  I could make enough for you, too, and,”  Ruchika paused, grinning.  “I just happen to have a bottle of Juneberry syrup sitting in my cabinet.”
    “Juneberry syrup?”  Cornelius grinned ear to ear.  “Well, you know I can’t turn that down!”
    “Shall we shake on it?”
    “Certainly.”  So the coyote and rabbit shook hands and turned towards the rabbit den, joking and laughing like old friends.
    “I can’t believe I’m being so sociable with a rabbit.”  Cornelius chuckled, shaking his head.  Ruchika laughed. 
    “Me either.  I mean, talking to a coyote.  I’ll be a living legend!”  They both laughed.
    “I just need to stop by the farmer’s house and see if I can sneak any lettuce out of the garden.”  Ruchika said as they neared a farmstead.
    “Certainly.”  Cornelius nodded.  They bounded over to the garden.  Suddenly, there was a faint click in the distance.  Ruchika looked up just in time to see the farmer aiming his rifle.
    “Cornelius!  Look out!”  She screeched, but just as she did there was a loud bang, followed by the whistling of a flying bullet.  Cornelius fell with a yelp and a thud.
    “Cornelius!”  Ruchika ran to him just as another bang filled the air.  The bullet hit its target, and that night the farmer and his wife sat down to a supper of fried coyote with a side dish of rabbit.

THE END!

Challenge #3

    Alright, so, I've been thinking it's about time for another challenge.  *everybody cheers*  After deep thought I thought it would be fun to write a story from an animal's perspective.  How does that sound?  The  of end the challenge will be February second (if possible, I know some of us have very busy schedules).
    Again if there are any readers that want to do the challenge follow the instructions issued in the first challenge.  http://larkwriters.blogspot.com/2012/11/challenge.html
    Have fun!

The Dawning of Truth--3

    The wind bit at Elise's face, turning her cheeks cherry red, as they descended towards the meeting place, a nearby valley.  Through the fading light Elise could see that many of the dragons had already arrived.  Vilma stretched out her legs and with a slight bump they landed.  “Thanks, girl.”  Elise slid off and landed lightly on the grass her hair swishing about hert.  The dragons turned their attention from Veander in the center of the group to her.  Joy welled up in her heart.  They all loved her.  Every one of them.  A black minor dragon landed lightly on her shoulder.  She gently rubbed his head.  His kind was rarely seen at the meeting place since most minor dragons preferred to live alone on the mountains.

    The dragons parted like water before her as she approached the pale dragon.  With slight bow she asked, “What news do you bring?”

    “The country is at war with the Viskens.  The king of our country has died and his son reigns in his stead.”  He licked his lips and glanced hesitantly at her.  “He seems honorable.  I think we should help.”

    Stiffening, Elise glanced around at the other dragons.  They watched her, waiting.  Their loyalty ran deep.  They would go nowhere without her.  She lifted her chin.  “I will speak with the Him.”  Heads bobbed in agreement.  As she left the group her shoulders slumped.  The last things she wanted to do was to go to war.  She had hated the other king.  It was because of him she had been taken away from her mother.  Could his son be any different?

    “It would be quicker if you flew,” the soft words soothed her nerves. 

    “Yes, Sike, it would, but-I need to walk.  I need to think.”

    He nodded and nestled his small body up against her neck.  She smiled.

    Rocks tore at the skin on her hands as she pulled herself over the edge of the rock face.  “We made it.”  Sweat poured down her face as she sucked in great gasps of air.  “I had forgotten how steep it was.”  Out on the horizon the sun was beginning to rise, a sign of how long the trip had been.

    “Elise!  How good it is for you to come visit me.”  A large dragon, covered with glittery silver scales, slowly moved towards her. 

    She managed a bow before collapsing to the ground. He chuckled, the deep sound shaking the ground.  “What brings you here?”

    “Vaender brought word that the country is at war.  The king is dead and his son rules in his place.”

    Wisely he replied.  “And you are wondering what to do.”  The old dragon looked out over the mountains with a sigh.  “You don’t want go, do you?”

    “No.”  She turned desperate eyes on him.  “I can’t.”

    “Why not?”

    She lowered her head.  “You know why.”

    “Tell me again.”

    Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes as her voice turned bitter.  “It was by the king’s order I was taken away from my mother to become a servant at the castle, not that I every made it there.  It was because of him that I got hurt.  It was because of him-“ she stopped, the tears now flowing freely down her cheeks.  “I-it was because of him that my mother is dead.”

    Surprise rimmed the dragon’s voice.  “How do you know?”

    “A couple years ago Vaender tried to find my mother.  All he found out was that after I was taken away she was killed by the king’s soldiers.  They thought she had been in league with those that had chased me and the king’s man.”

    “I didn’t know.”

    Elise buried her head in her lap, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.  Sike chittered sympathetically next to her ear. 

    For a few moments silence reigned.  “Elise,” the dragon stooped near her, his large head inches away from hers.  Large black oval eyes stared at her intensely.  “I’m not going to tell you that you have to go.  That is something you will have to decide.  But you can’t hide bitterness away in your heart like this.  You need to forgive what the king did to you. Now-“ he stopped her from replying, “I didn’t say it would be easy, but if you want to be truly happy again you will listen to what I say.” 

    She bit her lip until she could taste blood.  “I’ll think on it,” she replied her voice barely more than a whisper.  Forcing a smile to her lips she stood to her feet and bowed once more.  “Thank you for your advice.  I-I need to go now.”

    He bobbed his large silver head in understanding.  “Farewell.”

    Once Elise was far below the dragon’s abode she let the tears fall.  It’s not fair!  She pounded her fist into the ground.  I don’t want to fight for a kingdom I hate!  Sitting on the edge of a steep hill covered in dirt Elise poured all her grief out through her tears.  Her fingers dug deeply into the loose dirt clamping it into a ball.  In her mind she could picture her mother’s tearful face, the sneer of the man that took her away, and the cruel smile of the man that nearly killed her.  Everything in her life had fallen apart that day.  The only thing that had kept her from falling into a deep hole of grief had been the dragons.  They had raised her, provided her with food and clothing, and most of all, they had given her their deepest friendship. 

    Finally, when the tears stilled, Elise rose to her feet.  Feeling hollow inside, she made her way back to the cave where she stayed.  Without another thought she collapsed on her pallet and immediately fell asleep.  

Escape on Cloverdale Farm

Escape on Cloverdale Farm

    It was a bright sunny morning in mid-June on the Cloverdale farm.
    The Cloverdale farm was a very unique farm.  It lay sprawled on several acres of swamp and pond ground, with some pasture land and enough dry ground for buildings and some exercise pens.  But that wasn't the only way it was unique.  It's name had some meaning to it.  You see, the farm got it's name because that's what it's inhabitants ate.  Clover.  And the dale part has some significance to it too.  You see, all the inhabitants had the name “Dale” or some form of it.  There was Dale, the oldest inhabitant, and Deli, Dala, Daly, Dela, Delta, Dalta.... and Chip.  (Yes, that does go with Dale.  Chip and Dale, remember?)  But the most unique thing about the inhabitants was not their names, not their location, but their identity.  You see, they were turtles!  Red Ear Slider turtles!  And giant ones, at that. 
    The owners of Cloverdale farm were Farmer Joe, Mrs. Joe, and their children, Joellen, Joella, Joellie, and Little Joe.  They had all been named after their father.  Cloverdale farm was full of people and turtles who had alike names.  We will now, however, get back to the action of the story!
    It was feeding time on Cloverdale farm.
    Joella and Little Joe had morning feeding chores.  They swung a bale of clover between them as they entered the breakfast building.
    Dale, as usual, was first in line and as soon as the clover was dispersed, he gulped down a few bites and crawled to the top of his favorite rock.  He sat like a king with his claws crossed, surveying his subjects.
    Deli spied a big bit of clover and grabbed it away from Delta.  Dale narrowed his beady eyes and crawled rapidly down from his rock and over to the fighting turtles.  He whacked Deli on the head with his right claw and backed off in pleasure as Deli shrank back into her shell and left the clover for Delta.  Soon breakfast was over with no more incidents, and Joella and Little Joe rounded the turtles up and herded them into the west pasture.  They returned home to find out the agenda for the day.  Joellen and Joellie were already in the agenda room, so Joella and Little Joe raced to their seats before Farmer Joe and Mrs. Joe got in.
    “Alrighty, Joellen, you're assigned to patrol duty today.  Joellie, you'll be checking the clover supply and clover fields.  Joella, Little Joe, I noticed the west pasture fence needs fixing, so you two can work on that.”  Farmer Joe read down the task list.
    “The-- uh -- d-did you say, the west pasture fence?”  Joella stuttered, her eyes wide.
    “Yes.  Is there a problem?”  Farmer Joe asked, looking up from the list.
    “Um, well, um,” Joella gulped.  “We put the turtles in the west pasture.”  Farmer Joe’s eyes widened.           The Red Ear Slider turtles of Cloverdale farm were infamous for their escaping and hiding tactics, and if they weren’t stopped it could take days of high tech searching to locate all of them!
    “Oh, no. Oh, no!  All right, Let’s go, let’s go!”  Farmer Joe lunged for the door, the task list falling neglected to the floor.  Mrs. Joe and the children scrambled after him, tipping their chairs over in their haste.  Poor Little Joe was last in line and stumbled over the fallen chairs and task list, falling head first to the floor.  He righted himself quickly and sped after the others, grabbing his hat from the hat rack on his way out.  It wouldn’t do to forget that, no matter how urgent the situation.
    The Joes quickly loaded their miniature jets with ropes and cages and sped off into the air over the swamp ground.
    You see, if you will remember, this farm was located on swamp acres, thus, making it very difficult to go after fugitive turtles on anything with wheels! 
    So they loaded up in their jets.  They had three jets, so they could go in pairs of two, one manning the jet while the other searched.  This made it very convenient to go on turtle chases.  Though of course this didn’t happen very often.  It was merely a precautionary action.  It’s always better to be safe than sorry.  Now where was I?  Oh yes, the turtle chase!
    Mr. Joe and Mrs. Joe and all their children gunned the engines on their jets and flew over to the west pasture.  No sign of the turtles.  They’d already made their clever escape.  The fleet of jets flew on toward the swamp grounds, the passengers’ eyes peering through binoculars to try to spot the turtles. 
    Many tense minutes passed. 
    “Air! Air!  Quick, Joellie!  I need air!”  Joellen gasped, eyes wide.  She was so nervous her hands were sweating and she was loosing her grip on the controls.  Joellie’s eyes widened in terror and she fumbled with the controls on her side, frantically trying to find the air conditioner switch.
    “Hurry, hurry!”  Joellen wailed, fighting the controls with slippery hands.  Her right hand slid off and the plane dipped to left, the wing coming dangerously close to the ground.  Joellie’s hands flew, still not finding the switch.  Joellen grabbed at the controls, gripping them at the last second and the plane righted itself with a violent jolt.  Joellie’s hand flew up and hit something.  A blast of air exploded through the cabin of the plane.
    “No, no, no!  Not that much air!”  Joellen cried above the noise of the wind through the opened windows.  Joellie’s jaw dropped, and then she quickly recovered and resumed her search for the air conditioner switch.  She found the close windows switch first and the cabin began to heat up again. 
    “Joellie, what’s wrong?? Why can’t ya find the switch?”  Joellen was about to panic.  Just as her hands began to slip again, Joellie’s hand hit the right switch and a blast of cool air swirled through the cabin.  Joellen relaxed and concentrated on flying again as Joellie adjusted the binoculars and began to scan the ground.....
   
    “Look!”  Little Joe cried in the plane he and Joella were in.  Joella kept her eyes on where she was going and said,
    “What is it?  You see something?”
    “Yes! Look!”
    “No, I can’t!  I’m flying here!”
    “Oh.  I kinda forgot.”
    “Uh huh.  Then how’d you think we were flying?”
    “I don’ know..... oh!  I saw Dale.”
    “WHAT?”  Joella swung the plane in a tight circle and started flying back the way they’d come.
    “Up ahead.”  Little Joe said.
    “Little JOE!  Why didn’t you say something before I turned around?”
    “Well, you were in such a hurry I didn’t want to disturb you or anything.”  Little Joe grinned and started to chuckle.
    “Lil’ Joe, this ain’t a laughing matter!  We’ve got to get those turtles home!  Now you better get your rope out and be ready to get Dale!”  Joella instructed as she turned the plane around again. 
    “Alrighty!  I see him again!”
    “Okay.  Can you get him?” 
    “I think so.”  Little Joe frowned in concentration as he lowered his rope through the opening in the floor and got himself into a position to rope the turtle.  Joella began flying in a tight circle around Dale so Little Joe could get a better aim.  He twirled the rope around and around, aimed, and then let it go. 
    “Got ‘im!”  He cried triumphantly. 
    “Can ya haul him up?”
    “If I tie the rope to the pulley.”
    “All right then.  Tell me when you’ve got him and I’ll radio the others.”
    “Ten four.”  Little Joe connected the rope to the pulley and began to haul the big turtle up.  Several minutes and gallons of sweat later, the monstrous turtle was safe and sound in the cage.
    “Pa, do you copy?”  Joella asked.
    “Yes, go ahead.”  The voice came over the radio.
    “We’ve got Dale.” 
    “Good!  See any of the others yet?”
    “Not yet.”
    The search continued.  ...
    “Joella?”
    “Yes, Lil’ Joe?”
    “I’m hungry.”
    “Hungry?”  Joella shot him a disapproving glance.
    “Well, it is nearing dinnertime, after all.”  Little Joe explained, raising his eyebrows.
    “Well, if we could find these turtles, we could get home and eat dinner!”
    “Oh.  Right.  Well, let me finish this chapter and I’ll get back to looking.”
    “Finish your chapter??? Little Joe!  You’ve been reading??” Joella’s jaw dropped in dismay.
    “Well...”  Little Joe grinned sheepishly.
    “We’ll never get any of those turtles found if you’ve got your nose in a book!  Now get back to looking, would ya?”  Joella said, greatly exasperated.
    “Oh, all right, all right.”  Little Joe scowled and grabbed up the binoculars again.
    “Hey look!”  He shouted.  “I see ‘em!”
    “You do?  Where?  How many?” 
    “Right there, on that little island!  I think it’s all of ‘em!  Lemme see...  There’s Deli, and Dela, and Dala and Daly and Delta and Dalta!”
    “Where’s Chip?” 
    “Um.... he ain’t there... oh, wait!  There he is, swimming towards the island!”  Little Joe exclaimed excitedly.  “We’ve got ‘em!”
    “Not yet, silly.  We’ve just spotted them, is all.  Why don’t you radio the others and get us some help?”  Joella instructed.
    “Why of course!”  Little Joe hurried to the task and soon the other two jets were circling back towards the island.  With the expert roping of Mrs. Joe, Joellie, and Little Joe, soon all eight turtles were safe and sound in the jets, and the family was headed back towards the ranch. 
    Once the three jets had been safely landed, the turtles were herded into the barn and locked in tight for safekeeping until the fence in the west pasture could be fixed.  Then the family headed into the house for a long awaited and much needed dinner!  After all, such hard work builds a mighty big appetite, especially for growing children like Joellen, Joella, Joellie, and Little Joe!
   
                The End!

Note from the author:  My most sincere apologies for the sorry excuse of an ending, but this story had been sitting for a whole year and it needed finishing, so I just came up with something!