The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry

There was no time to waste, Arial flipped her wings once and rocketed  into the air carrying Krystal in her arms, accompanied by four of the emerald guard. The remaining faeries stayed behind to make sure the invisibility and protection charms around the perimeter of the yard remained impenetrable.

I looked around the yard, it was empty, not a single faerie was in sight. “Hey, guys? I haven’t changed back, hello?” In my head I was making perfect sense, but what I heard coming out of my furry little mouth was…meeeooooww! Meow, meow, meeeeeooow! I started pacing nervously back and forth in front of the door.

Of course this had to happen, I had envisioned the morphing thing a little differently, something like: I drink the goo, I change into a kitty cat, I grab the faerie, I change back to myself in a beautiful shower of sparkles. Wrong! Didn’t Cythia say something about “just in case of an emergency?” Now that I think about it, I never did get a clear explanation of “emergency”.

It seemed like I had been pacing in front of the door forever when I heard someone coming in from the garage. Head held high, ears pivoted forward, I padded down the walk toward the gate. Bill and I met at the corner of the house. He had stopped at the store to pick up a few groceries and both of his arms were loaded with bags so I thought it would be best not to try to get him to pick me up and carry me into the house.

I wanted him to know that it was me under all this fur. “Hi honey! you will never believe how my day went!” Meeoow, meow, meow, meow. Well, that didn’t go over so good, darn my kitty mouth anyway. I knew how Bill felt about cats, but I had to take a chance, I started rubbing up against his leg in an attempt to gain his favor, maybe he would sense that it was me.

I purred so sweetly, walking around his legs  like I had seen my evil twin do with Mrs. Shunner not all that long ago. “Pick me up please!” Meow, meeooow!! If cats could laugh, I’d be splitting my sides right now, Bill looked like he had just been dive bombed by a seagull with intestinal distress, and it was running down his forehead by the looks of it.

Bill walked to the patio table with me happily padding along behind. He put the bags down and turn around, “Oh good! He’s going to pick me up” Meeoooow (shoot! I can’t wait until I can communicate on a human level again).  I was preparing to purr contentedly and do another pass around his legs when I saw him pick up the broom I keep by the back door.

We stood there looking a each other for a moment, then with one quick sweep, he waved the broom at me. “Shoo! Pisst! Shoo cat! Shoo! I jumped quickly to one side. “Hey! Stop that, don’t you recognise me?  I swear, if you don’t stop that you won’t get any dinner tonight! Meeeeoooow! Meeooow, meow!

He kept swishing the broom at me in an attempt to drive me out of the yard. Didn’t he wonder why I was not going? I was about to take refuge in the Hawthorne tree when Cythia and Arial came to my aid (wow, it would be easier to climb this tree as a cat, unlike the time I saved Pip from the Blue jay).They flew wildly around and around Bill’s head twittering and scolding and tweaking his ears.

“Stop it! You’re trying to harm the Kind One!” Arial perched on his nose and with her hands on her hips, gave him a stern scowl. “That”, and she turned around pointing and smiling at me, “is the Kind One.” Bill’s mouth hung open and the broom dropped from his hands.

© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry,

I don’t know how these things happen! Well, on second thought maybe I do, or at least I can imagine them happening. I had to run a few errands earlier, when I left I noticed several of my little faerie friends chasing and playing around the laurels. Their laughter sounds a lot like the chimes I hang out under the trees in the summer, it makes me smile to hear it, and as long as I can hear them I know that they aren’t up to any real mischief . I took a quick glance at them in passing and it looked like they were tossing Hawthorne berries back and forth, okay, they can’t get into much trouble doing that, so I’m out of here.

I wasn’t gone that long, maybe an hour and a half, but that was long enough. When I turned the corner of the house and started up the sidewalk to the back door I heard a high pitched squealing coming from up in the tree. Looking up I see Pip, the ties on her skirt had become tangled in the fine stems that are at the end of a branch.

There she is, hanging about an inch below the branch with the most frustrated look on her face, maybe it was a pout, I couldn’t tell, but it was obvious that she was very unhappy! She would hang there a minute then kick her arms and legs wildly about, trying to get unstuck. She hung there like a wet rag, totally exhausted. To make things worse, the Blue Jay that lives in the pine tree back in the corner of the yard was hovering on the big branch right above her cocking its head back and forth thinking that she would make a tasty change of pace to the peanuts it usually eats.

There were two faeries perched  above the bird throwing berries at its head trying to distract it and not having very much luck. I’ve seen this Blue Jay chase Robins out of the tree where they had made a nest in an attempt to get at the eggs, so I knew that the faeries didn’t have a chance.

I picked up the snow shovel that was propped against the back wall and started yelling and waving it at the bird, it hopped back a little and made a raspy caw but wasn’t the least bit worried that I could get it, and it wanted dinner. It left me no choice but to climb the tree, besides, I had to get Pip untangled.

Have you ever tried to climb a Hawthorne tree? They are small trees with close set branches, and they have thorns. Thank goodness I didn’t have to climb very far up. The two faeries that had been loping berries at the bird  flew down on each side of me as I inched carefully up into the tree, catching my hair, clothes, and skin on every thorn. They stuck with me, offering their heartfelt support and encouragement, not that it helped much with the thorns, but their grins and enthusiastic aerial acrobatics were at least a comic relief.

It wasn’t until I got to within arms reach of the Blue Jay that it started to think that maybe it wasn’t so safe there after all (I think it could tell that I wasn’t happy about the situation). But it wouldn’t be a Blue Jay if it didn’t at least try to intimidate  me by pecking at my waving hand before flying off in a squawking huff.

I reached Pip after what seemed an eternity in a jungle of twigs and thorns. There was raucous merrymaking from my faerie entourage, and I hadn’t even freed Pip yet. “Please, hold the celebrations until after I get her lose.” I balanced myself on a branch, pushed the hair out of my eyes, and reached up to grab the end of the little belt (it was almost like grabbing sewing thread) then I unwound it from the offending branch.

Once freed, Pip shook herself from head to tow. She flipped her wings once and rocketed skyward. None of us (me and the other faeries) could see how far up she went. After a minute, here she came, just as fast as she went up. She whipped around my head a couple of times (not easily done with me still in the tree) then stopped in front of me and signaled a “high five”. Have you ever had to “high five” a faerie? I held up my little finger and she slapped it, then she and her escort took off for the opening in the ivy hedge.

I managed to make a slow but uneventful retreat from the tree and was just recomposing myself when Bill turned the corner of the house. He stopped, took one look at me and started to laugh. When he saw the “don’t even go there” look in my eyes he slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle himself. I continued to pick twigs out of my hair and after a moment he walked over to me and ask (with a grin on his face) “so… how was your day?”

We stood there for a minute just looking at each other, and when it became to much to hold in, we started to laugh, hard. As we entered the house, I looked back over my shoulder to make sure that the Blue Jay was gone.

© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry, 2009.