Magnus is a White Swan

Flying to wed an Ivory Prince.

They say they will have a Dew Horse to pull their carriage home.

The ceremony will start in a Prairie Twilight

And the joining will be lit by the Harvest Moon.

The Royal Silver, their attendant,

Will pronounce Magnus the Heritage Princess.

The crowd will then cheer, including White Swan’s parents,

Raspberry Phlox and May Night.

And the fireworks will explode,

For the prince ordered Foliage Confetti.

Rumors have spread that the Scarlet Emperor

Will come at the end to wish them blessings.

Monkey said to Man, “We are brothers. We are descendants of one common ancestor.”

Man replied, “How can I be related to such a preposterous creature as you? We were formed separately by a divine Creator.”

The Earth rumbled beneath them and declared, “It does not matter which one of you is correct. Why are you quarreling about where you came from, when if it were not for either of these you wouldn’t even exist. Give gratitude and not spite.”

Who of these is right?

The pines hold up staffs with pebbles creeping up on them.

They’re developing cones.

The bush-trees have trumpets for flowers.

The glossy glaring holly has green berries.

The promise of summer comes with the hot prospect of happiness.

Bitter boredom is sure to follow.

And heat.

The sand burns.

Her eyes are stars

And her hair is as butterscotch and sparse as her mother’s.

She is young.

These children surprise me everyday.

She clutches a teddy bear

And has the voice of a baby bird.

She’s learning to fly.

Her view of the cold world is playful and warm.

Her mother calls her Luna.

Trees are people.

Their trunks are their main body,

With branches for arms

And twigs for fingers

And leaves for hair

And bumpy bark for faces

And roots for legs

And flowers for love

And nectar for wine

And fruit for infants

And saplings for children

And birds for voices

And the forest for their country

And the world for their home.

http://wallpapers-catalog.com/girl-in-rain-wallpapers.1280x1024.download.html

I wanted a dress the color of the blue twilight outside.

I wanted shoes that were as polished and shiny as pearls.

I wanted a knitted shawl as black as the night.

I wanted a purse as ruffled and vibrant as a rose.

I wanted a tent to shield against the sun and rain and as colorful as a rainbow.

I wanted lipstick as bold as an azalea.

I wanted makeup as fine and delicate as dew on a spider’s web.

I wanted hair as elaborate as a bird’s nest.

I wanted presents as amazing as a butterfly’s wing.

I wanted guests as regal as eagles and as kind as doves.

I wanted food as exotic as foreign capitals.

I wanted my party to be all of this,

But instead I got a shabby celebration,

A humid thunder storm,

A ruined dress and many tears.

At the very Beginning,

Great rocks eroded into sand

And oils solidified into clay.

The sand and clay combined into soil.

The soil birthed seeds

And the seeds became trees

And the trees grew into forests

And the forests attracted birds

And the birds piped out songs

And the songs transformed into souls

And the souls created people

And the people made nations

And the nations formed the world.

I had my first birthday in Paris.

I had my second birthday in Tokyo.

I had my third birthday in London.

I had my fourth birthday in Rome.

I had my fifth birthday in Athens.

I had my sixth birthday in Moscow.

I had my seventh birthday in Mexico City.

I had my eighth birthday in Buenos Aires.

I had my ninth birthday in Madrid.

I had my tenth birthday in Cairo.

The Tree of Life (Just kidding)

http://dasuntoucha.blogspot.com/2012/

My birth date is coming up.

It’s in May.

All the white clover blanket the ground

And cigarette smoke masks the fresh air.

Late bloomers have their weddings,

So all the shrubs and trees wear fancy dresses and perfume.

Vines dapple.

There are banana peels on dead grass.

Blue feathers and cold rain.

May the eagle be our sky

And the flowers our earth

And a bright spirit our world.

Blue feathers and cold rain.

A scene rang in her mind from the past: Regal clutching a glossy magazine entitled Blossom Farm Factory. Inside it were photos of countless specimens you could buy from their store, complete with short blurbs, the price, and creative names. The girl flipped through endless chapters including: Daylily, Perennial, Dahlia, Fuchsia, Phlox, Foxglove, Coneflower, and of course Rose, as well as shrubs, grasses, vines. Page after page of lush tapestries, colors like fireworks, dazzling shapes and masses. The captioned names were flashy as well: Summer Carnival, Blue Heron, Candy Mountain, Jade Frost, Amber Mist, Green Gambler, Distant Drum, Caravan Legend, Ruby Peacock, Stellar Cameo, Floral Dame, Petite Serenade, Amethyst Dream, Magnus Haze… the list went on and on.

Regal played a game with that magazine. “What’s your favorite flower?”

Zoem took it from her and frowned. There were so many choices. The Lily-of-the-Valley was simple and lovely; the Coral Bells attractive with their lobed leaves, the foliage rainbow, like a golden zebra; the iris ruffled velvet; the daisies blazing stars; the lavender violet intrigue; the begonias showy and as layered as roses; the lupines twinkling towers.

“The Oriental Lilies, then. And The Hellebores.” They were absolutely desirable, with speckled insides, and rimmed with hues, bright and magnificent. Their color combinations went on forever.

“Oh, Well, I like the ferns.” She pointed to a page. There were bright green fronds, others crisp blue, others after-harvest brown-purple, still others pumpkin orange. Their names read: Bridal Veil, Gold Finch, Dew Haze, Harvest Moon, Ghostly Burgundy.

She is stunned beyond imagination, dazed beyond thinking. She runs through the moss-draped rainforest where towering cedars live a thousand years and black bears are born with pale fur. Bridges constructed from slender fallen trees breath under a carpet of green adorned with ferns. Trees still standing bend, grazed by flashes of morning light. The canopy is soft and muted, and lichen drips from hemlock and yew branches. Zoem trips in the spongy ground as she dashes toward the river.

Egg-heavy fish clog the waterway, while rocks drown in algae. Even the misty fog can't mask the funky rot of salmon carcasses lying tangled in stands of tidal Sedge. Day activity will emerge as dawn settles in: wolves swimming after black-tailed deer, bears fishing snout first for fish in shallow creeks and consuming seals and scavenging herring eggs, and eagles with ginger heads. At least, these are the scenes which scouts described to the rest of them. None of these animals appear to Zoem but there are signs all over. Here, a tuft of fur snagged onto an alder branch and over there, chewed bark. Though she doesn't know what their diet is exactly, there are little tart fruits throughout the forested bank, and mussles in the river, and lupines whose roots are edible.

Zoem is utterly confused. So all these planets, all of these worlds and dimensions are only accessible to people because of some pact between Earth's humans and the Affinas? And what is an Affina, anyway? The first dream, vision, whatever, had taken place in the dark place. And she was sure she didn't want to go there again.

She sat on a cold boulder and watched the reddish sun of her world slowly creep out into the green sky. And the fact she had gone into Earth in the pathway had been no accident. The Affinas had put her into some trance. She had been intentially been set up to visit the planet of her ancestors. Why? Why her? Why her and not billions of others? A stupid creepy dream, a destiny put upon her shoulders and poof! Zoem kicked her shoes into the ground with frustration. She wanted answers.

She knew she always had lousy luck. But all of this was pure insanity. No it was all just insanity. The Affinas, whatever they were, just couldn't exist. Zoem repeated this mentally over and over again. Doesn't exist. Doesn't exist. Doesn't exist.

A small earthquake shocked the ground for a brief second as an explosion blasted the air from the direction of camp, and she knew her luck was about to get a lot worse.

Golden leaves float past a fallen birch. It is chinked by black rectangular scars, its tissue paper bark silver. She kneels by a pond, its water black and mesmerizing. Dying maple tree leaves make art on the dark surface, where her face is reflected. It is angular with sharp cheekbones and a straight nose, draped behind a curtain of outrageously red short hair. She looks up. A dark wall of spruce, balsam fir, beech and hemlock faces her threateningly. All around her, the forest is rich in autumn colors: blistering reds, rich greens, the enfolding mountains blighted by yellow and quarantined away by rivers.

The chlorophyll in the lake plants fades and the underlying pigments burn through. Rainbows shimmer within fantastical shore vegetation bending in the breeze. Minutes melt and the air becomes freezing cold and white suddenly roars. Am I going crazy? Zoem thinks to herself as she clutches her arms in a tight knot as a feeble attempt to keep warm. But no, the summits are clad in snow and the shadows become icy. The wind is cold and rich and deadly flakes descend in dizzying flurries.

She believes she is going to have hypothermia when the atmosphere becomes pleasantly warm and balmy in another moment. The valleys are dotted with flowers. Small leaves have budded. Spring, she realizes and gazed upward at the sky.

The sun is setting and rising in an alarmingly fast arc, day and night interblending quicker and quicker as the seconds fly by, until an indistinguishable twilight emerges. Storms let out split rains then disappear. The forest alters once more and the unbroken green of summer landscape rolls. Everywhere is the tantalizing prospect of another view, another beaded chain of perspectives. The palette of the seasons shifts once more and Zoem knows straight on that this is no ordinary dream.

Her name sighs in the breeze.

She jumps in terror and leaps to run but

source

I had a yogurt cup full of irises and Lily-of-the-Valleys and water.

The little white flowers were umbrellas stacked on the stem.

The irises smelled like fiery citrus.
Their petals opened up like tents to invite bees inside,

Abstract with petals printed with brown lined designs,

Orange brushes inside.

They also had purple spades.

Some of the lily flowers were submerged.

The world is larger, more supreme somehow, in the night.

I am outside, and the full moon is out,

A shiny coin enveloped in a swath of navy.

The wind brings the salty air from the sea.

As I pass the bushes I noticed their woody dark and wild odor.

The playground has this burnt unpleasant scent,

And the fence encompassing it reeks of a metallic sting.

I have become a nocturnal animal.

All around me is the rushing of the wind and the sound of cars

And the buildings, giants in the darkness tower and engulf us all.

I have become a creature of the night.

Horneus was just able to fit two people on his saddle. And although Jenny was uncomfortable, she didn’t complain. In fact, she was almost completely silent until John came around. I was embarrassed to be seen with a stranger on. There was no way to avoid him.

“Oh great, it’s the new turd in town,” sneered John, “and my dumb little sister.”

“What, no bodyguards this time? Aren’t you afraid you’ll get hurt without the Twin Morons?” I said rather rudely. This was my best advantage over him, because it’s so true. I gave them that nickname a while ago, but haven’t had many chances to use it yet. But what happened next was even more surprising.

“Why don’t you come and say that to my face, a-hole?” called Jenny.

John stopped in his tracks looking dumbfounded, but quickly recovered from his surprise. We were almost level with him.

“Oh, and what are YOU going to do about it?” he said back. Now we were just about adjacent to each other, with him standing with his arms folded.

“This!” Jenny shouted. As if on cue, she jumped off of Horneus, landed perfectly crouched, and round-house kicked him.

It seemed to happen in slow-motion. John fell to the ground. I urged Horneus to quicken to a gallop as Jenny just jumped onto his back again. We left my brother moaning on the pavement in pain.

“Take a right, and then we’ll be at my house,” instructed Jenny. Other than directions, we were quiet the whole way. After a few blocks Horneus had gotten tired; he wasn’t used to two people yet. Just as we turned the corner an old-looking house with a large front porch and a yard full of discarded toys.

‘This is your house!” I exclaimed dumbfounded.

“Yeah,” said Jenny looking proud. “I live here with my two younger sisters and my older brother.”

“It’s not what I expected,” I said quietly. Frankly, I didn’t know what to expect but it certainly wasn’t this.

Two young girls ran out the front door laughing but stopped short and stared at Horneus.

What is it with rhinoceroses that people have to stare? They have feelings too!

“Cool!” they chorused and immediately started stroking his flanks.

Jenny once again hopped down with incredible speed and agility. How does she do that???

“Jillian, Margaret, this is my new friend …uh, wait, I don’t even know your name!” she said. They all started laughing again.

“My name is Violet. Nice to meet you…how old are you two, anyway?” They couldn’t have been more than five and three.

“I’m six!” the older one, Jill, announced.

“I’m four!” the younger sister stated proudly, showing me four fingers; two on each hand.

Oh well, I was close.

Just then, a woman came out, maybe her late-forties? She had a brown-blond bob with a smile that lights up the room. I’m assuming that’s her mom.

“Hi Jenny! I see you brought a friend. Come on in for some refreshments. By the way, I’m Jenny’s mother, nice to meet you,” she said as she came down the steps and shook my hand. It was then that she noticed the smell.

Did I mention rhinos can be a bit smelly?

She looked up and smiled. “And who would this big fella be? Oh my!”

Horneus was begging to wonder who all these loud humans were and why were they crowded around him. Not that he minded the attention, but he was nonetheless curious.

The girls, not knowing if he was going to eat them, ran 10 feet away. Their mother did the same.

“He’s trained, right? Well, I hope you can leave him out here when we go in,” she said.

“Actually mom, I think we’ll hang out around back,” replied Jenny.

“Suit your selves,” she called and fluttered back to the kitchen to make snacks.

                                                                             ***

We spent the rest of the day getting to know each other (but mostly I learned about Jenny). Horneus was able to relax with us due to their spacious backyard. I even broke down and told her about the factory and the plan. She can be VERY convincing and annoying when she wants to be. We agreed to meet up again at nine, but then we changed it to eight because her mom doesn’t let her out after ten. Two hours seemed plenty of time for what I had in mind.

After a quick departure, Horneus and I were heading down

Main Street

, which of course, was one of the busiest streets in town. I have to say, people in my town were really rude (I already knew that, this was just further proof), as they made no gesture to hide their gawking face. A man stopped cleaning the windows inside his shop just to see our little spectacle. All I can say is: they better get used on it, because now that we’ve obtained the permit, I no longer have to hide Horneus.

We walked on for two more blocks until we came to the other local pawn shop (just don’t ask me why they’re so close to each other): ‘Seaworthy Treasures’.

This one was older and I already knew the owner, a sailor nicknamed Salty Sam He had short whiskery sideburns connected to greasy jet-black medium-length hair. His skin was tanned from his years at sea; twenty-three, in fact. He had to give up his dream when his bullet wound slowed him down. Not a lot of people know just how much it hurts, and a lot of veterans even say it doesn’t, but he complains a lot. Although I think it is strange why he didn’t have it removed. He says it’s permanently in lodged in his lower right leg.

I entered and the macaw next to the door squawked. Well, technically Callie is an inbreed of a macaw and a cockatoo, sporting a white body and head, yellow Mohawk, and red wings with orange feet. She helped attract customers with her colors and sea songs.

As soon as I entered the store, Callie ruffled her feathers and burst into song:

            “ ‘Would you like to drink some flasks of wine?’
            Ah, but the sea, my yearning divine.
            Singing waves, may its melody shine!
            This passion burning not for your wine.’

            " 'Would you like to sip some cups of tea?'

             Ah, but the foaming, majestic sea.

             Rolling surf, may it be splendidly!

             This passion burning not for your tea.’

                       O-Ho!

                       The sailor's woe

                       Lost is the one he loves...

                       Sighing winds and blowing sails,

                       Working men and dampen rails..."

 
Right away I noticed Salty Sam chatting with a young teenage girl at the counter. On it was a little statue of a lighthouse with an anchor painted on it. I noticed that she did most of the talking as I stood for, I don’t know, maybe six minutes? I was starting to get impatient.

“So that’s how my grandpa lost his leg to a shark,” she concluded with a deep breath.

“Fascinating,” commented Salty Sam. He finally saw me and asked if I needed any thing. I asked him about the spy kit and he said he just got one. As he was ringing me up, the girl tried to make conversation.

“Hi, my name is Jenny and I’m new here. This is my Uncle Sam. Well, not really my uncle, more like a friend of my dad’s – ”

“Yeah, whatever,” I cut her off. I am not a people person. But she hardly noticed.

“So, do you live nearby? What school do you go to? How old are you? You look about my age, and I’m fourteen. Why is there a rhino outside?” She didn’t even give me a chance to answer.

Wait, rhino!?

I checked, and sure enough, there was Horneus right outside the window. Not in the alleyway next to the store, and he seemed to contemplate how to open the door without breaking it (I haven’t gotten to that part of training yet).

I rushed out the door, nearly smacking it into Horneus’s horn followed by Jenny, who did manage to smack it into his horn. By some miracle, the door wasn’t damaged, although it was faintly scratched. Oops! I hope Sam didn’t notice the cracks.

“Whoa! Way cute! Awesome! Are we going to corral it or something? Wait a sec, isn’t that a saddle on its back?” Suddenly her eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh…my…gosh….” She said slowly as I tried to gently insert Horneus’s bulky frame into the alleyway again. “This…Its….He’s yours, isn’t he?” Her eyes looked like 100-watt bulbs they were so bright.

“Yes, now will you go away? Horneus doesn’t like strangers,” I said as he finally settled in the alleyway entrance, “I’ll be back in a minute, boy, don’t go anywhere.” I patted his muzzle fondly. I dashed back inside for the spy kit. When I came back outside the store front, Jenny was sitting on top of Horneus. He eyed her carefully, as wary as any animal in the wild.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE  DOING? GET DOWN FROM THERE!” I shouted/ordered. But she didn’t seem to notice.

“Can we go for a ride? Please? I live over that way!” she pointed her finger in a random direction; or at least, random to me.

I decided the sooner I get this chic off my back, the sooner I can avoid her.

“…Alright, show me where you live. But I’m driving!”

Horneus and I rode to ‘Ms. Redler’s Pawn Shop’. Owned and operated by a single woman in her early thirties, she was pretty successful and the closer of the two pawn shops in town. We arrived at a quarter to three.

I left poor Horneus outside in a side alley (he was sad to be left behind) and entered. I saw a wiry brunette with he hair in a high bun reading a book behind the counter. She peered over her glasses as the bell above the door tinkled.

 “Hello, can I help you?” she greeted with a kind tone. She would make a great storyteller or maybe a teacher.

“Yes, hello, I was wondering if you had an upgraded spy set.” I asked. My parents told me after Christmas that they had gotten it from a pawn shop, though they never specified which one.

“Actually, I might have just the thing…just give me a second…to …check…,” she scurried about the organized yet slightly cramped store, peeking here and there and in between. As she did, I wandered aimlessly around; looking at whatever caught my fancy. In fact, that was almost everything as I’m an observant person. Just imagine a bunch of stuff that was neatly stacked; shiny, old, ancient (yes, there IS a difference), perfumed, hand-made, and factory-made items covered the shelves. A few minutes later, she returned to the desk in the back.

“Well, I’m afraid I was thinking of this.” Ms. Redler held up a book titled ‘How To Pick A Lock: The Complete Instruction Manual.’

“Is this all you have?” I asked doubtfully. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it could prove useful.

“Well….” She hesitated, “perhaps the other pawn shop down the street has something.” It was obvious she didn’t want to lose any business.

“Actually, I’ll take that,” I said with a small smile. Might as well not hurt her feelings too badly.

“Great! I’ll ring it up for you.” She briskly walked behind the counter and to the register. I got out my purse, hoping Horneus wasn’t getting impatient. Mind you, it was more of a wallet; dark brown with a strap that goes around my wrist. I would never be caught dead with an actual girly handbag.

As I was leaving the store, I heard a little kid screaming. It was extremely annoying, and I wish it would stop. Unfortunately, the parent was too busy staring open-mouthed at Horneus, who in turn was giving her a quizzical look.

“Excuse me ma’am, but Horneus does not appreciate your child whaling into his sensitive ears,” I informed her in as polite a tone as I could mange.

Now she was just staring at me.

But the little girl, seeing that the giant rhino in front of her had a name, stopped crying. Ms. Redler came outside with a lollipop and surprisingly, was not scared of Horneus. There was no way she couldn’t have missed him, as he was taking up half the sidewalk. She rushed over and immediately starting cuddling the child.

For the first time, someone actually noticed Horneus’s special saddle.

“Is that a saddle? On a rhino?” asked Ms. Redler. The mother finally stopped glaring at me, hurriedly thanked the shop owner, grabbed her child, and left.

“I see you like children,” I commented.

“I see you like rhinos,” she remarked back. I grinned. I liked her attitude.

‘Personally, I can’t stand them myself,” I continued. “But some people surround their entire lives to snotty little brats. Or clean little brats, depending on the parent.”

“Well, my love of my shop outshines my love of children or waterskiing.”

“You water-ski?”

“I dabble.” Okay, now she was bragging. Yet she constantly had that sparkle of amusement in her green eyes.

NOTE: I didn’t really see Bigfoot; I was jut messing with you. If I did, I would be freaking out right now because he would be a legendary hero, you know, if he existed.

So anyway, I didn’t see a single clue, a piece of paper or a key, nothing. So we went home to ponder what we heard. The next day was Sunday, so I did all my chores.

While I was hanging up the laundry with my mom though, I found out something strange.

“Hey mom, did you know there was a library on the edge of town? Now there’s going to be a factory of some sort.” I said.

“Really sweetie? I had no idea.” She replied.  What surprised me was that my mom knew every inch of this town, or so she claimed. In truth, she had never been inside my brother’s room, and she very rarely went in mine.

Afterwards, I talked to Horneus about breaking into the factory. His opinion matters a lot to me, thank you very much.

“So Horneus, remember that one Christmas from a couple years back? I got a spy set from my parents. It’s mostly for little kids, but I bet in could come in handy for tonight; or maybe an upgrade.”  Horneus raised his ears at the mention of ‘spy set’. He grunted in response. I took it as agreement.

“I was thinking if you were up to it, to check out the local pawn shops (at this he nodded) and see if they have it. Come on, let’s go!”

The next Saturday morning, my father knocked on the door of her room. “Violet dear, time to get up! You’ve got a call from the prime minister himself!” he joked. He always called the mayor that.

I tumbled out of bed and took the phone from my father’s outstretched hand. “Hello?” I asked sleepily, rubbing the crust from my half-open eyes.

“Good morning, lazy bones!” exclaimed the mayor. I hated when he called me so early in the morning; in fact, I despised most early-birds. “Sorry to wake you so early, but I thought you would like to hear this news as soon as possible,” said the mayor. “I discussed your request with the governor and he agreed that if you monitor Horneus closely, then we will allow you to ride him. All right? Hello? Violet?” But I had already rushed out the door to spread the good news.

I rushed into the kitchen, only to deflate at the sight of my brother and his idiotic cronies. The two big twins played football almost nonstop, and my brother manipulated their strength. They were deep into strategy talks (or rather talk, as my bro was the only one conversing). I started to sneak back in the way I came, but one of the dummies saw me.

“Hey John, isn’t that your sister?” said the uglier of the two. “Unfortunately yes,” said John in his stupid nasal voice. That would be Ned, and the other was Fred. Their faces split into identical malicious grins.

“It’s just my ugly little sister Ned, thank you, now stop paying attention to her and start paying attention to the plan!” John snapped. I hated his guts. Besides, he’s only a year older than me, yet he brags as if he were 18.

“Oh hush you!” I said. I didn’t like saying shut up in case my parents showed up out of nowhere. They had a tendency to do that, especially when we were fighting. My mother, as sensitive as always, scolded us both no matter who started it.

I hopped through the doorway and raced up the stairs to my room. I passed my dad on the way down with the receiver in his hand.

“Bye dad, I’m gonna take Horneus for a walk!”

“Uh, pumpkin, aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked, dangling the receiver.

“Of course not, I’m getting him right now!”

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he replied with a shake of his head and a smile.

I hurried to get dressed and raced downstairs in record time. I shot out the back door, completely ignoring the 3 numbskulls still sitting and staring at a piece of paper on the table. Horneus lifted his head when I came near his special enclosure.

Horneus’s habitat was generally a large circle dotted with shrubs. Near one side was a small forest of thin trees with wide leaves. Next to that was a dusty region and his bathroom, and the other third of the enclosure consisted of a large, awkward stable on a grassy plain. Horneus was lying in his stable in his usual position.

“Good new, big fella! The mayor finally accepted our request! Let’s saddle you up!” So for the rest of the day we strolled down the street getting many curious glances. Toward the end of the day we passed a construction site. Horneus probed closer until we overheard a conversation. He crouched behind a cluster of bushes surrounding the place.

“So the plumbing will have to go around…” began a voice.

“I don’t care, just do it!” cut off a very annoying person. It didn’t seem to have an accent; or rather, the mysterious man had a plain one that hardly showed.

“Yes boss. But we’ll have to continue tomorrow. Are you sure that this is a good idea for replacing that library?”

Wait, we had a library out here? I never knew. I guess you learn something every day.  Either way, why would anybody replace a library? My curiosity flared.

 “Fine. Just don’t make any mistakes or I will dock your pay.”

 They each moved off into separate directions, or so I judged by their footsteps. I dismounted and peered through the bushes. I could feel Horneus’s smelly breath on the back of my neck.

“Do you mind?” He snorted and took a step away. “Thank you.”

Gazing past the low branches, I saw……

                                    BIGFOOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

.

This is a story my friend wrote, and I edited. We hope you enjoy!

 It all started one ‘Bring Your Daughter to Work Day’ 8 years ago. My mother had recently broken her arm and was in quite some pain (oh, dang, now I sound like my dad- you’ll find out later). Anyway, a rare white rhino (Ceratotherium simum) was pregnant and gave a surprise to everyone when she went into labor right in front of us.

This was the best thing to ever happen to me.

I was standing in the enclosure, waiting to get a peek at the new baby rhino when all of a sudden, my mom rushed in.

Now, I had imagined my first meeting with this rare specimen to be somewhat like this: my mother walked in slowly and gracefully (like a princess, I regret to inform you now, years later) holding the little tike. He would be quiet and asleep, nuzzled gently in the crook of her arm. Then she would turn to, me and say, “Oh darling, isn’t he wonderful? Oh here, you hold him!”  And so I would softly take hold of his small, warm body and he would open his eyes; just like that! It was to be love at first sight.

What really happened was that my mom and a bunch of other veterinarians dashed in with one of those tables on wheels. It was specially equipped to hold the thousand-pound-or-maybe-more-body of the mother rhinoceros, Sheila. There was blood all over them, and the table, and the sheets, and of course Sheila; after all, it was her fluids!

They stopped in the middle of the room, and began panicking. My mother was shouting out instructions, but unfortunately, she was under some major stress. Stress, caused by the pain and the pressure, causes my mom’s Swedish accent to go into full blast; sometimes, she automatically begins to translate what she says into Swedish, so all anyone knew was that a slur of words ran out of her mouth. The other veterinarians were confused, my mom was helpless with her broken arm in a sling, and I was standing in the corner wondering what was going on, frustrated no one was doing anything. Was I going to just stand in a corner and just watch a baby rhino die? Heck no! I went right over to the cart-thingy (yes me: 6-year-old Violet), took a pair of sharp surgical scissors, and cut what my mother was telling everyone else to cut. As it turns out, I saved the baby rhino from choking on his own umbilical cord which was hidden between thick flaps of skin (yes, even then he was fat—after all, he is a rhino!). Instantly, he stopped struggling and Sheila relaxed. Everyone stared at me, then Sheila, then the baby rhino, then me again, and then the whole cycle went on for some minutes.

That day, I was a hero. Even afterward, as sheepish vets who were there explained the whole thing over and over again to their families, reporters, the head of staff, and the owner of the zoo, I was always the hero.

In a way, I also got the love-at-first-sight -thing. Although I should probably call it love-at-first-smell. For yes, that was how the little tike found me afterwards, which is a long story, so don’t ask me about that.

Let me introduce myself: I am Violet Finn, I am 14 years of age, and I do not have an accent. The rest of my family, however, does. My mom, as you already fond out, has a Swedish accent because she was born and raised there. My father shared the same scenario, although in England. My older, annoying, teenage brother inherited my uncle’s New Jersey accent. Frankly he is a pain.

The mother rhinoceros’s name is Sheila, the father unknown because the mating occurred in the wild, and the baby’s name soon became Horneus. Why? Because I like it! That’s why. So all together, we are the Finns. Yes, even the rhinos.

Within the next week, all the commotion had calmed down a bit so I was able to return without being harassed by reporters (they are so annoying, aren’t they?).