Harvest - Original Short Story

Another Helium entry from 2012, this one is a short comic story written around crows in a corn field and a scarecrow. Considering we're currently at the tail end of harvest season, I figured it was appropriate to post now. 

Harvest
By Emma Redmer

It was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. Long, yellow and creamy, glistening in the sun like beautiful bits of stone. We wanted those. We couldn’t live without them. We needed their long, soft tassles for our homes, the green stalks to cover our children and keep them warm. They were the most perfect stalks of corn ever grown, and they would be ours.

There was one small problem. Those lucious corn stalks were under survelliance. An odd-looking man with long, straight hair and old clothes was standing right in the path of the best stalks. He had a peculiar face, with a fat beak that looked like someone drew it on. We just had to get around him, and we’d be home free, with all the corn we could ever want.

I looked left, around a corn stalk. I looked right, around a rock. Nothing. No humans. No cats or dogs ready to pounce. I turned to the others and  nodded. “Come on, fellas. This is our chance.”

With a caw, we flew straight at the farmer. Two of our group actually picked up his hat and flung it on the ground. Another pulled the hair out of his arm. I thought it was a little strange that the only sign he gave of us was to list slightly to the right. He didn’t yell, or try to shoot at us or hit us with a broom. I finally ducked down and took a look at his legs.

“Fellas, come and see this!” The guy didn’t have legs at all! He had two long stumps stuffed with hay. “He ain’t real!”

Well, we all had a good laugh at that. Imagine, us thinkin’ some guy made of hay was a real farmer! We flew past him and headed for the corn, cawing joyfully the whole way.

We landed on the tallest stalk. I grabbed a corn cob and grinned. “Hey Cora, look at this! This is going to be the best harvest we ever had!”

Cora nodded. “Right you are, Willy! I don’t think I’m mincing words when I say that us crows will never again have such a feast!”

Luke and the Ginger Cat: A Star Wars Legends Fairy Tale

This is the second of the two lesser-known Grimm's Fairy Tales I'm adopting. I was inspired to do this one after reading The Thrawn Trilogy for the first time since the late 90's. I'm not the biggest fan of the Extended Universe. The books themselves frequently get too complicated, with too many characters, too much going on, and too many bizarre plot lines that make no sense. One thing I do like about it are some of the creative characters that do stand out. Mara Jade became the second strong female character in the Star Wars universe after Princess Leia. In the books and comics of the 90's and 2000's (spoiler alert) she marries Luke Skywalker, despite having been out to kill him at first. I thought I'd play with that a bit, and with Luke's status as one of the nicest guys in the entire Star Wars series...

Rating: G

Pairings: Luke/Mara

Disclaimer: The franchise belongs to George Lucas and the Walt Disney Company.

Once upon a time, old Ben the miller lived at his grain mill on the edge of the stream with his three apprentices, Luke, Lando, and Han. When it came time for him to retire, he had neither wife nor child. He gathered his three apprentices together. “I will leave the mill to whomever can find the best horse, and a wife to help them run the business.”

The trio walked together until they reached a certain fork in the road. “Here's where we part company,” Lando told the two younger men. “I will go to the City of the Clouds. I'm sure to win a horse with my great luck and charm the ladies with my new suit of clothes.”

“I'll be going to Alderaan.” Han shouldered his satchel. “They say the horses there run wild and free. I'm sure to be able to tame a fine one.” The tall man smirked. “I heard the ladies there are almost as wild. I like a woman with a little spunk to her.” He chuckled at the youngest apprentice. “What of you, Luke? You don't have the connections we do. You spend most of your time with Ben and the mill.”

“Oh, I'm sure I'll find something.” Luke gave them one of his sunny smiles. “I'll buy a nice horse in town, or ask about them at the nearest farm, and I'm sure there will be a nice girl in town I will be able to court.” It was true that he was the youngest of the three, and that he usually spent most of his time with Ben at the mill. On their nights off, when Han and Lando went into town to drink with pretty girls and take part in games of chance, he remained with Ben at his little cottage, listening to his stories and helping him tend to his home. Han and Lando were fond of him, but they sometimes thought him a little strange.

They had no sooner went their separate ways than Luke found himself lost in the great dark Endor woods, just outside of Coruscant City. He'd heard the stories about the strange creatures that lived in these woods. The former ruler was said to have been an evil sorcerer named Palpatine, who held the area with an iron fist, turning anyone who disobeyed him into animals.

“I wish I could find my way out!” Luke shivered. “I heard there's ghosts and monsters and all manner of evil dark creatures in this land. All I want is a horse!”

“I can help you find a horse.” A long, lithe tabby cat with fur like a shining orange sunset and deep-green eyes batted at his heels. “I'll just need for you to do do some work for me for a few years.”

“I don't mind working,” the boy admitted, “but how could you help me?”

“Follow me, young man.” She took off into the woods. He hurried after her, his legs not quite as limber as hers.

The ginger-furred feline lead him to an old black castle on a hillside. “Goodness!” The youth exclaimed. “You're quite a wealthy kitty, if you own such a fine home!”

The cat coughed a bit as she lead him across the drawbridge. “It's, er, not mine. My, er, guardian used to live here. I took over when he died.”

Four tiny kittens, three with orange fur, one with gray, were licking their paws in the main hall when she arrived. “Servants!” she called to them, clapping her paws. “I want you to attend to this young man. He is our newest addition to the household. He will take over the household chores and tend to the stables. For tonight, however, I wish for you to find him a nice bed to sleep in and food for him to eat. I'm sure he would not prefer the mice pudding and flaked fish we fancy.”

Luke was taken upstairs to the biggest bedroom he'd ever seen. The cats brought him a meal of fish and vegetable soup and fresh bread. Two kittens combed his golden hair; another brushed the leaves and twigs off his coat and trousers.

When they were done, they lead him to the music room. He was surprised to see a group of larger cats playing the fiddle, the horn, and the viola, their song an old tune that had once been a favorite of the previous owner of the castle. The kittens leaped merrily around them, as nimble and quick as lightning.

“Dance with me, Luke!” The ginger cat pranced on her hind legs before him. “I do enjoy dancing, but I haven't had a partner in years.”

“But you're a cat!” Luke protested. “You can't dance!”

“You'd be surprised!” She swayed before him, managing to skip around on her hind feet. Luke joined her, even if it felt a bit odd to be dancing with a cat.

The moment he started yawning, the ginger cat bade her kittens to take Luke upstairs to his room. They removed his yellow coat and black wool trousers and stockings and heavy shoes and settled him into the massive canopy bed. The ginger cat herself blew out his candle.

Something tickled Luke's nose the next morning. His blue eyes met a pair of round green ones, with a long ginger tail rubbing around his face. “Rise and shine, my servant,” the marmalade-furred pussy purred. “It's time for you to dress and begin your duties.”

“Wha...huh?” Luke sat up gingerly as two white cats pulled off his blankets. “What duties?”

“Your duties as my servant, of course!” She nodded as two cats hauled in hot water. “This is for you to wash in. As cats, we like to keep ourselves clean.” Indeed, the cats scrubbed him with their paws, then wiped him with their soft tails and dressed him.

The ginger cat lead him downstairs to the courtyard, which was filled with wood. She nudged at a silver ax. “The first thing you are to do is chop wood. Make sure you chop it very small.”

Luke did it, and did it well. Chopping wood for their fires was one of his duties for Master Ben. He chopped wood every day for several weeks. When he finished, the ginger cat appraised his work. “Very good, servant. Just perfect.” She nodded as three cats pulled a small sled right to the foot of the log pile. “Now, load those logs onto that sled, and we'll take them around back. I have another job for you to do.”

He shrugged and did as he was told, carrying the remainder that didn't fit onto the sled himself. They followed the cats with the sled to the clearing. It was a wide meadow covered in tall grass and flowers, about five leagues from the main castle. Luke could understand why she liked this place. It had a fine view of a sparkling brook and the Naboo Mountains.

The ginger cat picked a scythe made of silver off the sled. “After you've stacked the wood, I want you to cut the grass in the field, then dry it for the horses and cattle in the stables.”

Luke did as he was bade. It once again took him many weeks, but he finally got all the grass dried and bound with twine. The ginger cat and several of her servants approached him as soon as the last bundle was in the hay loft.

One of the cats had a carpenter's box between his teeth. Luke took it from him. In it were tools of the carpenter's trade, but the saw and wedge were silver and the mallet was copper. “These are beautiful!” Luke gasped. “Where did you get such fine tools?” He took the saw out to admire it.

“They belonged to my guardian, the previous owner of this castle.” She brought him to roughly the center of the now-cleared meadow. “I want you to build a little cabin for us right here.”

“A cabin?” Luke scratched the back of his head? “But why?”

“I have my reasons.” The ginger cat just glared at him. “Well, are you going to stand there, or start building? It'll be winter soon. You'll want to do as much as you can before the frost sets in.”

Luke was beginning to wonder if he would ever get his horse. It took him years to build that house with just the cat's help. No one but the cats and the animals in the stables seemed to live here. He hadn't seen another human since he left the mill. While he continued to dance at night with the ginger cat, during the day, she continued to be rather brusque with him, treating him like little more than a slave.

When he asked her if he could have some new clothes, since his old ones were growing threadbare, the ginger cat shook her head. “I'm sorry, but the only clothes left in the castle belonged to my guardian, and he was much shorter and broader across the shoulders than you were. They wouldn't fit.” The youth continued wearing his old yellow coat, which was falling to shreds around him.

A year flew by as if they were six weeks. It was a sunny day in early spring when Luke declared the little house finished. “I'm really proud of it, Kitty,” Luke told the ginger cat. “I've never built anything like this with my own two hands before. I wish my friends Han and Lando could see it.” He sighed. “I miss them, and Ben. Ben is so wise and kind, and even though they tease me, I love Han and Lando like brothers.”

“Then it's time you returned to them.” The ginger cat jumped down from the window sill where she was perched. “I promised you a horse. Let's go select the finest horse I have in my stable.”

All the horses looked up as Luke arrived. He'd grown to love each and every one. They were the most beautiful animals he'd ever seen, far nicer than any of the horses that drove Ben's cart. A shining horse with a glossy white coat and creamy bluish mane nudged Luke's head. “This one,” he said. “Ben will love her! Besides, she's my favorite in the stable. I don't think I could part with her.”

“Very well.” The ginger cat meowed at the horse, who nodded. “Artoo and I will be along in three day's time. Let's get you some lunch. After you eat, my servants will show you the way out.”

“Kitty,” Luke said as they went back to the castle, “don't you like me?”

The ginger cat stopped for a minute. “Yes,” she said simply. “You're a...well, you're a good friend. I don't know why you're so good to a cat, but you are. You've done everything I've asked you to, and performed very well.”

“Because you're my friend.” He leaned over and gave the cat a kiss. “You were nice enough to give me this horse and a place to stay. And you're a good dancer, for a cat!”

The cat turned nearly as red as her fur for a second before she regained her composure. “Yes, well, I'll see you in three day's time.”

Luke was lead to the main road by three strong Siamese cats. He walked back to the mill, since most folks took one look at his tattered coat and trousers and went right by him. He didn't mind. He enjoyed the stroll, now that he knew where he was going.

He arrived at the mill only a few hours later. Lando and Han were already there. Han had a small, feisty noblewoman on his arm and was bringing a strong, fuzzy brown horse to the stable behind the mill. Lando trotted over on a sleek golden mare, followed by a woman with lavender curls and a lacy gown as expensive as Lando's gold and blue cape and trousers.

“Hey, kid.” Han raised his eyes at what was left of Luke's clothes. “What happened to you? And why do you smell like cat?”

“You guys won't believe what happened to me!” Luke's big smile was as bright as the sun. “I worked for an orange tabby. She was kind of bossy, and she gave me a lot of jobs to do, but she finally gave me the most beautiful white horse I ever saw. She told me it'll be along in three days.”

“Luke,” Lando started slowly, “I know these woods are full of ghosts and witches and things, but...cats can't talk.”

“Maybe they can.” The girl with the two buns on her head climbed off Han's furry horse. “I've heard a lot of stories in Alderaan about the wicked Emperor Palpatine, who turned his entire household into animals before he died, including his adopted daughter.” The girl smiled at Luke. “By the way, my name is Countess Leia Organa. My friend over there is Lady Amilyn Holdo.”

Her purple-haired friend nodded. “I've heard the story, too. He wanted her to help him turn all of his enemies in the kingdom into animals, but she refused. He turned on them instead before he was killed in battle.”

Ben came out next. “Luke!” He hugged the boy. “I've missed you, lad.” The old miller gazed over Luke's shoulder. “What happened to your clothes, my boy? And where is your horse? Did you meet any ladies?”

“My clothes? Oh.” Luke looked down at himself. “The cat said she didn't have anything that would fit me. As for my horse, it'll be along in three days.” His face fell. “But I never met any ladies. Only a girl cat. I guess she counts.”

“I'm afraid you're going to have to sleep in the stables for a few days, my boy.” Ben sighed. “We can give you a good scrub in the metal tub, but we really have no clothes that will fit you.”

So Luke lived in the stables for three days. He didn't mind. He enjoyed making friends with Han's horse Chewbacca and Lando's mare Lady Luck and helping to clean out their stalls. The young man was sure they would be great friends with his white horse Artoo.

On the morning of the third day, the most beautiful golden carriage anyone at the mill had ever seen pulled up to the main building, pulled by six horses. A page in golden livery helped a stunning red-headed princess in a black and gold gown and a jewel-studded crown alight. Leia and Amilyn's eyes widened.

“That's her!” Amilyn gasped. “That's the Princess Mara! She disappeared years ago! I heard she angered her protector so much, he sealed her away in his castle.”

Ben Kenobi bowed low before her. “You honor our humble mill, Your Highness.” He kissed her hand. “I was a knight myself once, before I opened my mill. I'm afraid my lord is long gone now. How may I be of service to you?”

Mara tossed her fiery mane of red-orange hair. “You have an apprentice named Luke Skywalker here?”

“Yes,” Ben admitted. “He's in the stables, tending to the horses. His clothes are a bit of a mess. We've sent out for fabric to make him new ones...”

“No need for that.” One of her servants brought out a small trunk. “I've brought him the finest clothes money can buy in town.” The gold-clad servant brought the white horse to Ben. “And I believe you asked your apprentices to bring a horse and a woman to wed. Here is the horse.” She gave him a small smile. “And I am his woman.”

Luke clutched the ragged remains of his coat around him Han brought him to the group. “I'm sorry, Your Highness,” he stammered, “but I was tending to the horses, and I know I have hay in my hair, and my coat is practically falling off me. I'll get a better coat as soon as I'm paid...”

Mara stopped his prattle with a kiss. “Don't you recognize your Kitty?”

“Kitty?” Luke's blue eyes tripled in size. “You can't be! She...but you're...”

Mara nodded. “I was the ward of Emperor Sheev Palpatine. My guardian taught me some magic, hoping I'd use it against his enemies. I turned many innocent people into animals before he told me to use it against a prince who had never harmed anyone. I refused, and he turned me and everyone in our castle into cats before dying himself. The only way the magic could be reversed was if a young man with a good heart agreed to work for me for a year, obey all commands, and take nothing that wasn't offered from him.”

She gave him a gentle kiss. “He also had to befriend me and kiss me, even though I was a cat and not much of a friend.”

“I...did?” Luke looked over his shoulder at his employer. “Ben...would you minded terribly if I didn't take the mill?”

“Yeah.” Han put an arm around Leia. “I kind of lost interest, too. Leia and I will be going back to her kingdom to race horses and help her parents keep an eye on things.”

Lando grinned at Amilyn. “Lady Holdo and I have a room at Cantino Bight, the biggest casino town in all the kingdoms, reserved just for us. We're going to paint the town red, then have a little fun doubling our money at the Bespin Casino.”

“I'm getting too old to run this place anyway.” Ben shrugged. “Maybe it's time I thought about selling.”

“You can come back with us.” Luke took his master's hand. “We'd be glad to have your counsel.”

And that's just what they did. Mara ordered Luke to wash and dress in the clothes she brought. When his servants were finished with him, he looked as handsome as any prince in his white and silver clothes and silver crown. She and Luke returned to the castle...to find that Luke's cottage had been transformed into a larger, even more stunning castle of silver and gold. She and Luke lived in the castle, while Ben resided in the older palace, tending to the gardens and the remaining cats until he died. The kind old man never had to touch a millstone again. Han and Leia became revered horse-breeders in Alderaan, with Leia taking over for her own parents on the kingdom's council when they stepped down, while Lando and Amilyn continued traveling from casino town to casino town, looking for their next big win.

Luke eventually wed Princess Mara...and no one ever said again that a young person of no importance couldn't become someone special.

The End

The Bear Who Told Stories - An Original Fable

The Bear Who Told Stories

Rating: G

I wanted to do something to honor Carrie Fisher, a fellow writer, after her death, and then Debbie Reynolds, too. I've seen many fanfics about Princess Leia dying, and while they've all been heartfelt and wonderful, I just...can't bring myself to do that yet. I considered doing her death in the Resistance Kids universe, even got as far as writing story notes for it, but I want that to be a lighthearted comedy series. This was just too sad, too...real. I may eventually do it as a Rey/Luke short ala The Stories We Leave Behind, but right now, it hurts too much.

But thinking about Fisher's relationship with her family, her friends, with Harrison Ford, and her love of writing and telling stories I can certainly relate to, lead me to create this fable. I've written many a fairy tale, but I've never tried a fable before...but I love bears as much as I do writing, Star Wars, and musicals.

So...ladies, wherever you are, this is for you. I'll be the one searching the sky for the falcon and the two brightest stars.

Once upon a time, in the wilds of the western mountains, a brown bear cub was born. She was no ordinary cub. Her parents had once been circus bears, but when the circus shut down, they'd fled into the wilderness together to raise a family. The mama bear danced, and the papa bear sang. When the cub became old enough, they taught her these things. She loved doing them, but she felt she'd never be as good as her parents.

“When will I find something that's special for me?” she asked her mama one night, when they were looking out at the stars.

“Someday, my cub,” her mother assured her. “You're still young. You have all the time in the world.”

As the cub grew up, she learned all the things little bears needed to know to survive...including dealing with siblings, for her parents had a second cub, a boy, the next year. She learned to how to find food, how to fight off interlopers, how to avoid hunters and their guns, and how to tumble and play with her brother.

Nothing gave her more joy than hearing stories. Every animal she met in the wildlife park where she grew up had a story to tell. Her parents told her about their lives in the circus, about the long hours they'd have to work to train, but also about applause and the lights and the color and glitter. Owls spoke of flying at night and just managing to snatch a mouse before it reached its hole. Deer told her about the forests they'd migrated to and about their narrow escapes from guns and forest fires. Rabbits revealed how they found sweet clover in the summer and hid among the snow in the winter.

She loved hearing stories, but she wondered when she'd have a story of her own. “You'll need to go out into the wide world and find it,” her mother finally told her. She was old enough to be on her own now, no longer needing her mother's protection. Her father had left years ago; her brother was almost ready to leave.

And so, the bear left home. She headed towards the mountain, where she first encountered a very handsome mountain lion with a very fluffy coat. He was proud of that coat, too proud for her liking. She got tired of his ego and left, his praise of himself ringing in her ears.

“Surely,” she said to herself, “I can find better stories than that!”

As she headed back down the mountain, she realized how clear the stars looked from here. The sky was filled with nothing but stars. “What are stars, Mama?” she'd once asked the dancing bear, many years before. “Why are they in the sky? Why don't they come down to see us?”

“Stars,” her mother explained, “are the spirits of animals after we've passed on. Every star is a little different, just like every animal is a little different. Some shine brightly, while others would rather twinkle quietly in a corner of twilight. They comfort those of us who are still walking on the land.”

“I want to shine brightly when I pass on,” said the bear. “I want to shine so brightly, I'll be the first thing people see when they look up in the sky.” She turned to her mother. “And you'll shine brightly, too. Everyone should see us!”

“I hope so, dear.” She nuzzled her daughter. “I hope so.”

The bear thought of this conversation as she looked at the stars. She wondered what stories the star spirits had to tell. She wished she could read every twinkle and winkle. “I wish I knew what my story was,” she said. “I wish I had a story to tell the stars.”

“I have a story about stars.” The bear was startled. She turned around to find herself face-to-face with a buffalo, a young fellow with a great shaggy beard and round, thoughtful brown eyes. “I have a story, but I need help telling it. I heard you're good at telling stories. Would you help me?”

“I'll try,” said the bear. “I don't know if I'll be any good, but I'll try.”

The buffalo lead her down the mountain, to a clearing in a forest in the valley. She was surprised to see other animals there, all chattering and hoping. She'd never seen so many kinds of animals! A lean yellow warbler and a fat little blue bird were just starting to awaken to the dawn. The largest, shaggiest moose the bear had ever seen grazed at the edge of the clearing. A lone brown prairie falcon soared overhead.

Two deer were the last creatures to arrive, just as the first rays of the sun began to filter through the tree tops. The smaller deer with the sandy fur was obviously the younger of the two. His antlers were two little stumps, and he frisked and laughed and leaped over logs. His companion was much older. He had wide, proud antlers, a slow, dignified gait, and a soft fawn-brown nose raised high into the air.

“This is ridiculous,” the elder deer scoffed. “Stories about stars! What kind of stories can you tell about stars?”

“I like stars!They're so pretty in the night sky.” The deer leaped around his friend. “I'll bet you can tell lots of stories!”

The buffalo told them his stories. He told them there were many spirits in the stars, and they all had tales to tell. There were the tales of his ancestors, the great buffalo who had roamed the plains and protected the animals, until the humans and their noise sticks wiped them out. He mentioned a female bear chief who had been the strongest, bravest warrior ever in the west. She was so brave, she had rescued her grizzly mate from a whole pack of poachers, even managing to kill the head of them with one blow. He spoke of the deer whose father, an aggressive old buck all the other horned animals feared, died saving him from the nasty mountain lion who roamed the cliffs.

“Your ideas are wonderful,” the bear began, “but your words aren't. They're awkward and don't fit the characters.”

“Yeah,” added the falcon in his long drawl. “Nobody uses all that high falutin' talk you have them sayin'.”

The buffalo nodded. “I know, Falcon. You've told stories for me before. Will you help me tell them again?” He turned to the others. “Will you all help me? Help me tell my stories. I want every animal in the western mountains to hear these tales!”

One by one, they all agreed, even the skeptical old buck. The deer leaped up in delight. “Hurrah! I'll be telling stories!” He jumped...and tripped over a root in his path. His long, slender legs went sprawling.

The falcon pulled him back up with his talons. “You all right, kid?”

“I'm always all right!” He laughed again. “Thank you, Mr. Falcon!”

“Just Falcon, kid,” he said gruffly. He took off after that, soaring towards a nest on a cliff on the edge of the forest.

“He's so beautiful,” the bear said in awe. “I've never seen a bird like him.”

“Oh, he's been around.” The deer frolicked alongside her. “He builds nests for other birds, when he's not telling stories. He's good at it. He made a nice nest for his mate and fledglings.” The deer stuck his nose into the nearest tree. “I always wondered how birds could live in trees and on cliffs. Don't they fall out? Give me some nice soft moss anytime.”

As the animals began to help the buffalo with his stories, the bear fell in love with the idea of telling tales. She knew what words to say and which ones worked in the story, could find a better word when the original didn't sound right, and wasn't afraid to tell the others when the parts of the story didn't fit together. Sometimes the animals called her bossy or rude, but they mostly praised her contributions, saying they made the story even better.

The falcon was almost as good of a storyteller as she was. He too knew which words worked and which didn't, and would figure out how to make them sound right for the character. The bear had never known anyone like him. He wasn't a talker, like the always-chattering deer and songbirds. It was rare he spoke at all, but when he did, he had a marvelous, gravely squawk that made the others sit up and notice. He was so handsome and smart, the bear thought he could have been in the circus, doing tricks like her parents did.

She had wanted to get to know him better, but he mostly kept to himself...until one day about a month after they started making stories. She was out walking in the woods when she heard a strange sound, one she'd only heard a few times before. It was footsteps...but heavy footsteps, one much larger than her own. Strange voices, ones that didn't growl or squawk, filled her ears.

She had just enough time to turn around before she saw the barrel of the long noisy black stick...and it was pointed straight at her! She took off as fast as she could, just barely missing the killing noise that cracked across the woods. The poor frightened bear dashed for the safety of a thicket of trees, only to see two more humans with noise sticks there. They smirked and wigged their fingers at her, like they were trying to get her to come near. She knew better than that. She could smell strange substances on them, sweet, acidic scents. She only smelled it once before, when she found broken bottles in the woods with sticky purple drops on them.

Even though she was terrified, she was angry, too. How dare they think she was that stupid? She wanted to reach out and smack those humans.

She never had the chance. The falcon swooped in from the sky and landed right on those humans' heads! He scratched and bit at them, making them yell and drop their sticks. “Come on!” he yelled after he'd bitten the nose of the larger of the two. The bird actually pushed at her with his wings. “Go, go!” They flew and sprinted out of the forest and up to the mountain, until they found a cave where they could hide.

“You know,” she said, out of breath, “that was brave of you, but I could have taken them myself. I'm a big bear, after all.”

“Yeah, Chief,” the falcon hissed, “and there were two noise sticks right in your face. If it wasn't for me, you'd have pieces of the killing noise in your backside right now!”

The bear reached out to cuff him, but the falcon did something she didn't expect. He pecked her. It was a light peck, more like a nuzzle her parents would give her. “Wha...” she rubbed her cheek. “What was that?”

“Why do you think I helped you?” The falcon's lazy grin spread from one side of his beak to the other. “You've got guts, bear. You're all right. We birds peck the ones we like.” He flew alongside her. “Mind if I fly home with you? Your cave isn't far from my nest on the cliff.”

Now she was the one with the grin. “I wouldn't mind at all.”

After that, they were inseparable, the bear and the falcon. He told her stories about flying in the sky, close to the sun and the moon and the stars. He told her how it felt to build, to create a nest a fellow creature could live in with his own beak. She told him about her circus parents and learning to dance and sing and about her encounter with the fluffy mountain lion.

The bear tried to fly a few times, but...whumph! She always landed in a heap on the soft ground. “Sorry Chief,” said the falcon, “but you ain't built for flying.”

Sometimes, the deer joined them as well. There was much laughter as the trio frolicked among the trees, laughing, running, flying, jumping, playing. The deer had lived in many different forests. His family was always on the move, migrating from place to place. He loved mimicking other animals and birds. He got very good at mimicking his two friends, especially the falcon's gruff squawks. The bear tried to imitate them, but it just made her throat hurt.

They told many stories, passing them on to other animals. The creatures of the forest loved the simple folk tales of the good animals who triumphed over the evil predators and humans who tried to take their homes. Those animals passed them on, and their families passed them, and they passed them to their children.

By the time the bear was fully-grown, the stories were now considered legends. Little girl cubs talked about being like the brave female bear chief who saved the grizzly scavenger and won his heart. Boy calves talked about becoming a great warrior, like the buffaloes who fought for the rights of all animals against the humans who wanted their land. Birds chirped about the helpfulness of the fussy warbler and the sassy bluebird. Moose and deer spoke of the grizzly's loyal companion. Even insects whispered of the slug who ruled the underground and the green lizard who could take down any prey, even the grizzly bear.

The bear and the deer loved that the stories had become so popular. “I wish I was a real chief,” the bear said. “Maybe I'd know what I want to do then.”

“I think you should keep telling stories.” The falcon soared next to her, as usual. They'd just finished passing on their latest stories, about how the bears, deer, and buffalo had destroyed the cave belonging to the notorious mountain lion. “You're good at it, and it's obvious that you enjoy it.”

“I don't know.” The bear sighed. “I like it because it lets me get out my feelings. But is it really special, like my parents being able to dance and sing?”

“I think you're the most special creature in the whole woods.” The falcon gently scratched her shoulder with his talons. “You have the eyes of a doe and the balls of an angry buffalo. You could do anything you set your mind to, if you wanted to enough. Just because it isn't something they have in the circus doesn't mean it's not special.”

“I wish you could stay with me.” The bear turned her doe eyes towards him. “I'm glad we're friends, but...I wish it could be more.”

“Chief, I understand how you feel.” He patted her shoulder with his wing. “But I have to get back to my family. And anyway...well, there's the obvious.” He ran his feathers over her fur. “We're different species. I can't be your mate.” He gave her that lazy grin again. “But I can still be your friend.”

The bear wished that didn't mean so much...but it did. When at last, the stories had all been told, the Falcon went back to his nest, and the moose and the deer and the birds went back to their homes in the woods. She was alone again.

She'd learned two things while telling those stories. First, she was in love with stories, with words. She wanted to tell stories, at least until she could find something really special to do. Second, she did not like to be alone. She wanted to have fun, to laugh and romp with other animals.

The bear continued to seek out other creatures who enjoyed being in packs the way she did. On the way, she had many adventures. Once, she had hope to mate with a fat black bear who showed her how to get into picnic baskets and other human foods. She'd never tasted such delectable, rich food in her life! But the black bear soon got into trouble, and he spurned her. She didn't like that at all! She shook an oak tree, sending nuts raining down so hard, he thought they were the killing noise and ran away.

She passed through a pretty prairie valley, nestled alongside a misty mountain. She looked up and saw an eagle circling the cliffs. “Why are you circling that way? You're acting more like a vulture than an eagle.”

“I'm afraid of those cliffs,” he squawked. “I'm afraid predators live there. A hawk who was a good friend of mine swears he saw a family of mountain lions prowling around. What if they come into the valley?”

She laughed. “That's silly. There are no mountain lions there. There haven't been any mountain lions in this area for years. Your imagination is working overtime.”

She left to clean her cave and catch some fish for her dinner. When she came back a few days later, she found a mess of feathers and fur. Birds were surrounding a whole pride of mountain lions, scratching and hissing. The mountain lions fought them off, but the birds dropped acorns and pinecones on their heads.

Her mouth opened, but for once, she didn't know what to say. “See?” squawked the Eagle. “I told you were were predators! My friends the hawks and eagles and me sort of, uh, accidentally drove them out. But we got rid of them!” All she could do was shake her head.

Shortly after, she encouraged two bears she knew to fall in love. They were just friends, but she knew they'd be perfect. It took a while, but they eventually mated and had a family.

The bear finally returned to her family's cave. Her brother had gone off on his own. Her mother the dancing bear was all alone now, her mate having left years before. She stayed with her mother for a while, and the two told stories to each other. Her mother even started dancing again.

“That's how I tell stories, dear,” she'd tell her daughter when she would scold her about getting too tired after her dances. “I tell them with my paws.”

She was reluctant to leave home, but it was time she found herself a mate. As it turned out, she wasn't very good at it. One bear charmed her with his songs, but they fought and cuffed each other too often and parted. She remained with another long enough to have a bright little cinnamon-gold cub, and adorable fuzzy thing with big dark eyes like her mother. Her father left, too, but the bear kept her cub.

It didn't help that the bear sometimes ate and drank things, especially human foods, that weren't really good for her. Once, group of humans with the flashing light boxes found her moaning after eating the entire contents of what she thought was a barrel-shaped tree. They called for medical assistance, and she was taken away to a strange, box-shaped cave. She remembered very little about what happened afterwards, other than a week later, she was released back into the wild, with the admonishment to stay away from trash cans and other foods that weren't for bears.

She now tried not to eat as much human food. She had a cub to raise, and a mother to keep an eye on. But most of all, she had more stories to tell. Even when other animals said she was crazy, that her mind didn't quite work like everyone else's, she shrugged and said “So I'm crazy. I still have my stories, and a family who love me.” Indeed, many animals came out to hear her stories, and passed them on.

The bear was getting older now, no longer in the prime of her life. Her mother moved slower these days, but she still danced. The little cinnamon-gold cub grew up to be a pretty little bear in her own right. She shared her mother's love of telling stories. “I like telling spooky ones,” she explained, “ones about scary spirits and dark shadows that make all the babies shiver.” They even had an animal companion, a dog that had been abandoned by humans, who was their constant companion and helped them with all things.

No one in the western woods had ever forgotten the stories about the spirits in the stars. “We want more!” they cried. The buffalo who had first come to them with the stories was no longer young. He no longer told stories. He did encourage others to tell them, to pass on the stories he'd told. He asked the bear to come back. He wanted her stories now, needed her storytelling skills. Besides, many animals loved her wild tales of her adventures.

There was a new gathering of animals in the clearing. Some had gone to the sky since she'd last been there. The yellow warbler looked sad and even leaner without the blue bird by his side. The old moose walked slower, but he was as gentle and loyal as ever. The elderly buck was long gone, his council missed.

There were new animals, younger ones. She laughed as a black river otter waddled over, trying to catch a condor who had flown in from South America. A slender black wolf with thick, dark fur watched the group out of glittering eyes. He was followed by a slender, cunning red fox and an antelope with long, long legs. Her daughter giggled and chased them, delighted to have animals her own age to play with.

The group parted as a wise old buck walked across the moss. He was followed by a little doe, small and delicate, but with large eyes that had seen much. The buck had the most magnificent set of antlers the bear had ever seen. They were so wide and tall, they seemed to touch the sky.

“Hello, bear,” he said, a familiar playful grin spreading across his muzzle. “I'm so glad to see you again!”

“Brother deer!” She couldn't help it. She gave him a bear hug. “It's you! You're here!”

He nodded. “I'm here, sister bear.” The doe nudged him. “And I brought my new pupil. She's learning to show other animals how to laugh, too.”

The doe leaped into the air. “I'm so excited! I've always wanted to hear your stories!” She misjudged her landing and ended up flat on the grass. The otter and condor helped her to her feet. “This is much nicer than the dry grasslands I'm from. They have rain here, and green things.”

“The stories have been passed very far,” the condor explained. “I heard them all the way in South America and wanted to tell them myself.”

“We hear them in the river too,” the otter added.

“And in the distant woods,” said the quiet wolf.

The bear's brown eyes had already turned to the sky. “Deer, is he...will he come?”

A squawk revealed her answer. A brown prairie falcon, wings now slightly ragged and crooked with age, soared down from the sky. He landed on her back, scratching it gently with his talons. “Hi there, Chief. Did you miss me?”

“I did miss you.” She nuzzled him with her nose, then gave him a small, playful slap. “That's how we bears say 'I like you.'” Her big warm eyes sparkled merrily. “You still drive me crazy.”

He rubbed his cheek with his wings and gave her his famous smirk. “I know.”

It seemed that there were even more stories of the spirits in the stars to pass along. For the deer had a doe, a doe who was lost when humans tried to steal her away. She was found again by a gentle otter, who would rather help animals than hurt fish, and the old grizzly and his moose friend. The female bear chief was terribly sad because her cub had decided to help drive away other animals, rather than share the territory. The little doe finally found the wise deer who had once been saved by his father, hoping that he would help her become a great female deer warrior.

“That's all?” said the cinnamon bear in disappointment when it was done. “What happens next?”

“Oh, we have plenty of time to decide that,” said the bear. “There's still so many stories to tell!”

But there was one story she'd never told anyone. She finally started revealing how close she and the falcon were to each other. It had been so long ago, she decided, it wouldn't hurt anyone if they knew. The falcon joked about needing large owls who knew human laws to stop her...but he didn't try to stop her. No one could stop the bear when she wanted to do something.

“I don't think it was a good idea,” she admitted to the falcon a few weeks after she'd passed on the news. “Some of them got very angry at me. They said I seduced you! Me, a crazy old bear, seduced a handsome falcon, not only a falcon with fledglings, but someone who wasn't even a bear.”

The falcon gave her a peck. “Don't listen to them, Chief. It doesn't matter what we did in the past. The future matters now. We both have more stories to tell.”

“That's right, sister bear,” the buck added. “Everyone's talking about the new stories. They want to find out if the doe will avenge the death of the grizzly, or if she ever learned to be a warrior, or if she avoided that mean wolf.” He grinned. “They might even want to hear about us old-timers.”

The bear cuffed him playfully. “Who's old?”

The falcon scratched her back. “You still looking for that something special?”

“I haven't been, lately.” Her head turned to the stars. “I've been too busy telling stories, and taking care of Mother and my daughter. But I'll find it. I'll find my way to shine yet. I still have time. ”

But she didn't have time.

Just a year after her chat with the falcon and the buck, while on a routine trip back to her cave from telling stories, she felt a pain in her chest. The pain grew and inflamed, until it became unendurable, and she collapsed. Other bears gathered around her, trying to help her breathe, but it did no good. She couldn't breathe, or even move.

“Please,” she gasped, gazing up at the stars as she found her voice, “please, let me shine. Let my stories shine.”

Those words were her last. She died, surrounded by her brother and her wailing child and the mother bear and the little dog who lived with them. They were all heart broken, but none more than the mother.

“Stars,” she shouted, dancing on her hind legs one last time, “please let me be with my cub. Don't take her away from me!”

She too, finally became a spirit, dying shortly after her daughter. The little cinnamon-gold bear and the brother bear sobbed and sobbed.

It was the buck who came to her after her mother died. “I miss Mama and Grandmama,” the little bear sobbed. “I want them to be here! I want them to still tell stories! This isn't fair. Why did they have to go away? Mr. Buck, why did they leave?”

“They haven't left us,” the buck said softy. He nodded his long antlers at the night sky. “There they are! They're still with us.”

The moment the cinnamon bear gazed upwards, the clouds passed, and she saw two beautiful stars. They weren't just any stars. They were the largest, brightest stars she'd ever seen in her life. They lit up the entire night sky, one right next to the other.

“There's your mother,” the buck explained, “and your grandmother. I wish they could still be with us, too. I know this must be especially hard for you. They were your world. But you can look up at the night sky, and know they're shining down, dancing and laughing and telling stories, and they always will be.”

The cinnamon bear smiled a little through her tears. “And we have their stories. I'll always pass them on. I'll never forget Mama and Grandmama's stories.”

“That's right.” The buck nudged her kindly. “As long as we have stories, the spirits of our loved ones never really leave us.”

As the two gazed into the night sky, the cinnamon bear thought she saw the silhouette of a falcon, it's ragged wings spread wide as it soared as close to the two stars as it dared. The falcon's mournful squawk was joined by the deer's soft cry, the cinnamon bear's small growl, and the keening howl of the little dog.

So if you look into the night sky tonight, my children, look for the two brightest stars in the sky. You're more than likely to see a falcon soaring as close as he can, forever searching for the spirits of the dancing bear, and his beloved chief bear, who never shown brighter than when she was allowing her stories to shine for others.

The End