Eleda
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
The moon was waxing gibbous, Neil Armstrong was retiring following the Tour de France in July, black smoke still churned from the Vatican where the cardinals voted for the world’s next pope, the Revolutionary War was two hundred-thirty years old, and it was Eleda’s eighth birthday.
Collette rather wondered about things. Suddenly, it had hit her hard once again, the past night, as she was falling asleep. So many were walking the line of danger between light and the fire, and they refused to believe it, for their blindfolds. It was nearly the saddest thing in the world for Collette to think of, and she knew of friends and family who still walked that line. Suddenly, Collette felt very small… very small. How could she hope to say anything or do anything that might possibly change their minds. And so she kept silent.
It was suddenly that day in which the red buds lost their bright blooms and the green leaves sprang forth in great boldness of color. Collette was sad to see the red blossoms fade and fall, but the green brought a fresh new life as her thoughts seemed that fair bright afternoon. There was much to think about, and Collette knew she needed the quiet of that day to knead it over and ponder it all.
Later, as OLeif polished off a full bowl of sausage and fried corn, a commercial ran across the television set of a sheriff in the wild west, pointing his gun down a gopher hole. A gopher emerged, shaking in terror with his hands in the air.
“Not you; move aside.” The sheriff motioned with his gun.
A quivering shrimp popped his red face through the ground.
“No, not you either.”
Finally, a little shivering scallop slipped up to the top, with little eyeballs.
“That’s right. You, scallop. Let’s see those hands in the air.”
“Oh, poor scallop,” Collette laughed at the little guy.
“There’s a sheriff; he must have done something wrong.” OLeif said. “I’ll bet he stole a pearl.”
“You mean the shrimp stole the pearl.”
“No, the scallop is the bad guy. He stole the pearl from the clam, because he wants to be a clam.”
“Poor delusioned little scallop.”
OLeif shook his head, putting a hand to his face.
“It’s a villainous scallop. That’s why the sheriff was pointing his gun at the hole.”