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Popcorn or cockleburr?

     I ate sticky popcorn before I went into the mountains to gather leaves. Beneath the leaves were cockleburrs, so when I felt something hard stuck in my hair, I didn't know if it was a cockleburr or sticky popcorn until I pulled it out. (Sometimes I'm a messy eater.) (In case you're wondering, it was a cockleburr.)
     Perhaps this is an early Halloween post, because the incident brought to mind my horrific teenage experience of peeling what I thought was a cockleburr off a stuffed dog. When I pulled it free and focused on the stiff, dried corpse of a mouse grimacing at me from my fingers, I screamed and flung it across the room.
     Looking back, I have to ask myself... what's so creepy about a dead mouse? They're far less startling and destructive than a live one.
     What old belief comes at you from a different perspective now that you look back on it?

A different kind of Apple...

If you're going to eat an apple at your computer, don't make the mistake of setting it down beside your mouse. 

Hey, there's an idea... apple shaped computer mice! (My son has one that looks like a car, complete with headlights.)

What do you know of that is out of the ordinary? Mashed potato ice cream? Cats nurturing birds? Reading this blog? 

12-Year Old Words of Wisdom

According to a 12-year-old, George Washington said, "Never fear, there is always a cookie near." As comforting as that is, does it ring true for you? What comforts you when it's near?

Where do you get your ideas?

          Some people have light bulbs go off over their heads when they get an idea. (This guy obviously gets ideas his own way. Either he thinks with his mouth or his idea bulb slipped!)
           A lot of people ask about how to get ideas for writing books. The magic element for me is to write down anything that's interesting, anything that makes me say, "Hm" or anything that makes me smile. I could write down ideas every day if I open up my mind to it.
          I once saw a little girl in a red plaid dress standing by the road holding the leash of a little black Scottie dog. Click! Watching teenagers run through a crowd spurred an idea for my first novel where a woman is being chased through a crowd, running for her life, but no one know it. Click! Driving past the cemetery and an open grave brought to mind stories of the olden days when people walking in the dark would fall into graves and have to wait until morning to get help getting out. But what if someone fell into a grave and disappeared? Click! People walking in body boxes down Main Street with only their feet showing. Click! A newspaper article about a white man and woman who walked out of the African jungle, unable to speak English and obviously comfortable foraging for food in the native terrain. Click!
          The thing is, the ideas you have are for you, your personality, your writing ability. I recently undertook to "ride the wave" on someone else's successful idea (with the author's permission... I didn't legally need the author's permission, but when someone suggested that author might be mad at me, I talked to said author who told me to "Go for it!")  Anyway, to my surprise, I've found it a little harder to write on this borrowed idea. Interesting.
          What is your latest, greatest idea?

Anedra and the Fish Prince, part 5 (conclusion)

• 

Once the dog jogged out into the sunshine, Anedra was too exhausted to hold on. Her tubular body relaxed and rolled downward, picking up speed until she suddenly ran up against something hard. Pressing her cold, pink skin against the surface, she tested it, stretching out and shrinking back until she recognized it as the crown. Somehow it had caught on the dog. Now if she could only get the dog into the water and get the crown off the dog, it could sink to the ocean floor where Queen Belvedere could retrieve it and be restored to her normal self.

But how could she make the dog do anything while she was a worm? She couldn’t even see, since worms didn’t have eyes. Anedra tried to think of something else to turn into, but she couldn’t seem to make her tail tap her forehead, and the only thing she could think of was water, soothing waves, the waiting queen.

Then the hair stopped moving. A warm hand slid beneath her worm body, lifting her into the air. Where was the dog? Had Durlynn caught up to them? Anedra squirmed as a warm finger tapped her head while a voice vibrated her body with the word, “Restore.”

Legs stretched beneath her, gloriously strong with bones, while arms grew out from her mushy body. Her head rounded and dark hair cascaded down over newly formed shoulders. Feeling slightly nauseous, she opened her eyes to see that she had her human body back! Dancing on her feet, swinging her arms with joy, she laughed, forcing back the nausea. When her hand hit something, she turned, startled to see a handsome young man looking down at her. A breeze from the sea at his back stirred his light brown hair around his face. Her heart gave a tug at the kindness in his eyes. Since the giantess was nowhere in sight, it must have been he who restored her. Just as she opened her mouth to thank him, he brushed his hair back, revealing Queen Belvedere’s crown on his head. The words of thanks she meant to speak twisted in her throat. “What are you doing with that? It’s not yours!” She sprang up, yanked the crown off his hair, and flung it out over the water. The glimmering circle splashed into the water and spun out of sight.

The young man gasped. Anedra looked up at him, alarmed to see his face pinching itself into a narrow oval, his eyes sliding slowly around to the sides of his head as his body shriveled. “I am Prince Marius,” he squawked through lips that opened and shut, opened and shut as though he could not get enough air.

“What have I done?” Anedra cried, watching in horror as the prince shrank down into the form of the same fish she had cooked at her parents’ house, red and orange scales gleaming with metallic edges. The fish prince flipped his tail, gills pulsing, mouth straining against air that could not sustain him.

Tears filled Anedra’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know you were her son.” She carefully slid her hands beneath the fish, making sure to avoid his gills, and lifted him off the shore. “I don’t know what else to do,” she said, stepping to the water’s edge and sliding him into the water. He flipped his glinting tail and disappeared into the blue depths.

“You could have kept him in a jar of water.”

Heart racing with fear, Anedra spun toward the raspy voice. Durlynn loomed above her, unsmiling. Anedra gasped.

“Don’t worry, I can’t do anything to you without the crown,” Durlynn said. “Well, except step on you, but what would that accomplish now?” Durlynn sat down, bringing herself closer to Anedra’s size. “That crown didn’t fit me anyway. I don’t know what Daddy was thinking, bringing home a thing like that. It was magical, so I was worried to death I might use it wrong and shrink myself or permanently melt my toes together or something.” She folded her arms and shuddered, cheeks jiggling. Her small eyes fixed on Anedra and her big mouth opened. Two bites and Anedra would be gone. All that would be left of her would be the bits stuck in Durlynn’s teeth.

“Daddy made me use the crown to cast a love spell on Prince Marius.” Durlynn gave a very unladylike snort. “Did you know he was Queen Belvedere’s son? A short little guy. Daddy never thought to ask me if I wanted to marry him. How could I love that weak little bug, no bigger than my arm? He’d never be able to get his arms around me for a proper hug.”

Anedra stared at the giantess. It had never occurred to her that Durlynn wouldn’t want to marry the prince.

“I love Zunkle.” Durlynn smiled, which made her look even more frightening. “He’s a big, strong giant who calls me his Snortcakes.” Durlynn gave a fearsome giggle. “But Daddy said it was all about royalty. You can’t make it in the world without being royal.” Durlynn shook her head so hard that her bun fell loose, unraveling down the side of her lumpy face. “I don’t want to be royal. I want to be Zunkle’s. Once you stole the crown, I realized that now Daddy’s gone, I can do as I please.” She twisted around and awkwardly bridged her big body onto her hands and knees, straining against gravity to push herself to her feet.

“Wait,” Anedra said. “Did you turn Prince Marius into a fish?”

“No, no,” Durlynn protested, standing up straight and shaking the hair out of her eyes. “Why would I want to marry a fish?”

“Then who did?”

Durlynn leaned down, hands on her knees. Anedra shrank back, wishing she hadn’t asked. “He did it himself.”

Shocked, Anedra asked, “How?”

“If you can believe it, he caught a fish that told him not to eat it. He ate it anyway. I would never marry a dummy like that.” She turned and walked away, the ground shaking with each step.

Anedra looked out across the water. She needed a boat.

Something floated into sight. Anedra watched it approach the shore, fascinated at the sight of a bubbly mass that appeared to be nest of floating fish eggs. It drew close enough that she felt certain she could wade out to it. If it couldn’t hold her, she’d simply return to shore and find something else. All she wanted was to get home, and this was the only way she could see to do it.

Once she reached the fish egg raft, she was delighted to find that it held her weight. When she lay down with her feet over the end to propel herself through the water, her cheek rested on a cool froth of bubbles. Paddling with all her might, she felt the raft move steadily toward deeper water. The sea was on her side, providing a current that carried her along with such speed that she could feel the wind blowing against her face. In spite of being unsure of her direction, she was overjoyed to finally come across the stream outlet that she knew would lead her home.

As she began paddling harder against the current at the mouth of the stream, she noticed a figure sitting at the base of a tree by the water’s edge. When she looked more closely, she was so startled to see Prince Marius that she quit paddling. To her surprise, the raft didn’t wash further out to sea. Instead, it moved against the current closer to shore where Prince Marius watched and waited for her with a mischievous smile.

“You’re not a fish,” Anedra said when she reached the shore.

The prince moved to the water’s edge and reached down to her. She hesitated, then put her hand into his. He wrapped his warm fingers around her wet skin and asked, “You aren’t going to throw me in the water, are you?”

“Not unless you need it.”

He grinned and pulled her onto the shore. “I’ve had enough swimming for awhile, not to mention flying and running.”

Anedra gained her balance and gave him a puzzled glance. “What do you mean?”

“After you threw up the part of me you ate back into the water, I was a whole fish again. Then I used the ability my mother gave me to turn into different animals, such as a puffer fish, an eagle, a wasp, and a dog.”

Anedra gasped. “Those were all you?”

“I had to be sure you followed through on your mission to restore my mother to her true form.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes fixed on her with a small smile set in his face. Then he reached out and gently brushed her hair to one side, showing the slight mark of a fish tail on her forehead. “You certainly have a hard time focusing.”

“Why couldn’t you get the crown yourself?”

“Because Durlynn enchanted me. When I was in animal form, the pull was much less, but it was still there. I couldn’t go against her.”

“How did you become human again if you could only change into animal forms?”

“When you turned yourself into a worm, the crown landed on my head. That was all I needed. Luckily you fell on my head, too, so we escaped together, although why you couldn’t have chosen to be a fuzzy caterpillar instead of a slimy worm is beyond me.”

Anedra put her hands on her hips. “You try thinking fast when your body is flying through the air like a sack of bones ready to crack against a wall.”

“Well, you came out of it all right.”

“So did you.” Anedra looked him up and down and said with a smirk, “You’re much taller and rounder than the last time I saw you.”

“Because you helped get my crown back.” Queen Belvedere walked out from the shade of the trees. She was even lovelier as a woman than she was as a mermaid. “I am happy to tell you that all the people who were turned to fish are now back to their original forms. Better yet, I still have ties to the sea. I learned the dolphin language while I ruled the deep, and used it to find some kind dolphins to bring you to us.”

Anedra turned toward the water, surprised to see six smiling dolphin faces looking up at her from around the edges of the floating fish egg raft. She couldn’t help but smile when she said, “Thank you.”

They squeaked and ducked beneath the waves.

“Anedra!” Her name surrounded her like a hug in the voices of her beloved parents. She whirled around to see them climbing from a boat that flew a royal flag. Bursting into a run, she streaked toward their open arms. They folded her into their warm embrace with enough tears that she almost felt like a fish again. Raising her eyes to Prince Marius, she said, “Thank you.”

The prince shrugged. “Your father is a noble man. Your mother works hard. I appreciate them as much as I appreciate their daughter.”

Anedra turned and nestled in to her parents’ warm clothing. She loved them so much, and the prince was an interesting young man. Perhaps one day she would learn how to twist her hair into a bun just the right size to hold the crown that would make her his princess.

The End  

Anedra the Fish Prince part 4

Anedra noticed a range of mountains set far back on the land. She’d never been there, since her fisherman father had stayed close to shore. “I am going.” Anedra made herself as streamlined as she could, hoping to out fly this annoying eagle. As soon as she’d snatched Queen Belvedere’s crown from Durlynn’s head, she would drop it in the ocean and go back home. No eagle could stop her then.

She flew straight toward the mountain range, not even bothering to look around and see if the eagle was following. When she reached the mountain range, her small round eye was drawn to a column of smoke rising up into the air, the top edge drifting eastward on an invisible air current. She swooped closer to investigate. The smoke stung her eyes and she wanted to fly away from it. Yet there was something about this place that told her it was the place she was looking for. The smoke had an unnatural feeling to it, like a security barrier meant to keep her out. But she would not stay out if it meant retrieving the crown and finding her parents.

She tried again to penetrate the smoke shield, but it was too much for her senses. She slapped her wing up to her forehead and thought, “fire beetle.” Then she was falling, falling through the sky. She stuck out her hard stubby wings and glided to the ground, the smoke unable to penetrate her hard shelled body or loosen the green braid which had shrunk down to fit her beetle body.

Closer to the ground, the air was clearer. Anedra skimmed along the surface of the ground, wings outstretched, aiming for the tall black castle ahead. As soon as she reached the wall, the air was clear. Her little beetle eyes roved around in a circle, noting that the smoke didn’t touch the castle walls, almost like there was a force field around it.

A wasp sped toward her, and Anedra zoomed upward. The wasp changed its trajectory to follow. She ducked into the recess of the nearest window and stopped in the corner where she was hidden by shadows. The wasp zipped past.

Anedra buzzed against the glass, hoping she could find a way in. She could see a latch that, if twisted, would open the window. She bumped against the latch a couple of times, listening for the buzz of the wasp, but the latch refused to budge. She didn’t have enough bulk or power to make it move.

Raising her thin, black leg, she hit her tiny forehead and thought, monkey. A long tail threw itself over the latch, stretching to its full length, saving her from falling to the ground. Her new furry paws reached up and grabbed the windowsill. She hauled herself up and stood on the ledge, staring at her reflection in the glass. Small gray ears, big round eyes, a gray furred body with a thin green braid circled around her waist looked back at her. Could her parents ever love a monkey?

She would never find out until she got the crown and got out of here. She focused her gaze on the latch, grasped it with her furry fingers, and twisted. It opened and she slipped inside.

Buzz! The wasp zipped into the room over her head before she could shut the glass behind her. It zoomed through an open door and was gone.

Anedra let herself down from the window sill and scampered across the floor to the doorway. She peeked around the door jamb and squealed with fright when she saw that she was nose to nose with a tan dog.

“Hush!” the dog growled. “Do you want to wake her?”

Trembling, Anedra asked, “Who?”

“The giantess, Durlynn,” the dog huffed. “Come on.”

He walked down the hallway, toenails clicking softly on the wooden floor.

Anedra watched him for a moment, the sway of his long ears nearly brushing the floor. Could she trust him? He could take her head off in one bite. Three bites would be the end of her. But what else could she do?

Please don’t eat me, she thought as she followed the dog down the hall, propelling herself along on short legs and knuckles.

The dog stopped at the edge of a dark doorway. He turned his head, long nose pointing at Anedra. He didn’t say anything, but lifted his muzzle a couple of inches, then swung it toward the room.

When Anedra stopped at the doorway, the dog suddenly lunged at her. Anedra squeaked and scurried into the room, her head turned back over her shoulder, wary eyes on the dog. When she bumped into a wall of stuffed fabric, she grabbed it to keep from falling down.

“Whaaa…?” a growl sounded from the top of the wall, which was really a bed. “Who’s there?”

On legs shaky with fear, Anedra scuttled beneath the bed. The mattress above her bore down, pressing her to the floor so hard she could couldn’t breathe. Mama. Daddy. I wanted to see you again.

Suddenly, the pressure eased as the mattress rose, letting her suck air into her lungs. Anedra lay there for a moment, panting, before pushing herself up on hands and knees with her little monkey head hanging down.

Something brushed the top of her head. She shrank back, covering her head with her paws. The dog made another swipe at her, his chest on the ground as he reached beneath the bed. “You woke her,” the dog growled. “Now get up there and grab the crown before it’s too late.”

“You won’t eat me?”

The dog made a face. “Why would I want to eat a hairy monkey?”

Anedra’s relief was suddenly replaced with a new fear. “But if I go up there, she’ll see me!”

“She’s in the bathroom.” The dog glared at her with impatient eyes. “Hurry.”

Anedra crept to the edge of the bed and looked out into the gloom. A shove made her stagger. She turned toward the dog with a scowl. “You are so slow!” he snarled. “Get the crown!”

With fierce eyes boring into her and the threat of sharp teeth at her back, Anedra grabbed the blanket hanging over the side of the bed and scampered up. Once on top, she stood at the corner of the bed and gazed at the broad expanse of small, rumpled blanket hills. Where was she supposed to go? Finally she lifted her eyes to the bed post, which was as big as a tree trunk, and saw a glittering golden circlet hanging from the top of the post. The crown!

Anedra took off across the landscape of bed, climbing over blanket ridges and leaping over soft, padded valleys. She scurried up the bedpost and grabbed the circlet, but she couldn’t lift it off the top of the bedpost. She had to climb higher. It was harder to climb while holding the crown in one hand, tugging it upward. She boosted herself up the best she could, hands and feet scrambling to keep their hold on the post. Just as the crown cleared the top, a door creaked open.

The giantess stood in the doorway, ten feet tall, her cheeks as lumpy as two bowls of cold mush, her lips twin pale worms lying across the bottom of her face. Her hair was in a tight bun on top of her head, just the right size to hold the crown clutched in Anedra’s hairy little fist. When their eyes met, Anedra’s went wide and Durlynn’s squinted in anger. “Give me my crown!” Durlynn howled and lunged toward Anedra.

Tossing the crown over head so it stuck out like a stiff, wide collar, Anedra dropped onto the mattress and bounced up in the air. When Durlynn made a grab for the monkey, her huge fingers smacked into Anedra’s head, launching her through the air.

Sailing over the side of the monstrous bed, the image of a broken monkey body lying on the floor flitted through her aching head. Anedra’s hand flopped through the air, swinging back to brush her forehead. Worm.

She arced downward as the crown soared away from her shrinking body, muscles clenched. To her surprise, she landed in a soft nest of hair. Knowing the dog couldn’t eat her if she stayed on his back, she tightened her muscles around a patch of hair, barely aware of movement as her host moved toward the doorway. They were escaping the giantess, but had lost the crown. I'm sorry, Queen Belvedere.

(To be concluded)

Anedra and the Fish Prince, part 3

Her mother dipped her hand into the water, reaching toward the fish that was her daughter. Anedra flicked her tail and propelled herself forward without much control, bumping her nose into her mother’s hand. She nuzzled the skin which felt strangely warm and foreign against her new fish body.

Her parents stayed on the bank the rest of the day, their heads dark outlines against the dusky sky by the time Anedra sank toward the bottom of the stream to rest, awkwardly wedging herself in between two rocks, water flowing over and around her, cooling and soothing the length of her scales.
When Anedra raised her head at last, the sky was pink with dawn. To her horror, she saw that she was no longer in the stream. Somewhere during her resting phase, the current had dislodged her and carried her out to sea so subtly that Anedra was not aware of it.
She turned and darted back from the way she’d been facing, desperate to find the stream mouth, determined to fight her way back upstream to rejoin her parents. But all around her was water. Swimming in every direction with erratic bursts, eyes darting frantically for the smallest glimpse of land, there was nothing but water.
If fish could cry, Anedra would have raised the sea level by several inches. But she couldn’t cry, so she drooped in the water, her fins hanging listlessly.
Something smacked into her so hard that she flipped over in the water, gasping, bubbles rising toward the surface.
“You must come with me,” a gravelly voice said.
Anedra turned and saw a fish so heavily textured that his sides looked like the thatch of a roof. “I want to go home,” Anedra said.
“That’s where I’m taking you.” The fish turned and headed off through the water. Anedra hung back, unsure if she could trust the strange fish. Before she could decide whether to follow him or not, he came zipping back through the water, as fast as a pistol shot. Alarmed, she jerked upward with a flick of her tail, arcing up over the fish as he zipped past beneath her.
He spun in the water. “That’s better than the swimming you did before, or just plain luck,” he said. “You come with me now, or I’ll have to push you into line.” When he puffed up, the thatch on his sides stiffened into spines that stuck straight out from his body. They looked painful. Anedra realized she had no choice but to follow him.
The puffer fish led the way down into water so deep it shifted from blue to purple. Just as Anedra was despairing of ever seeing light again, she spied a golden glow beneath her, so warm that it disoriented her. She thought she’d been swimming downward, but had she really been going up toward the sun? The light pulled her onward, as welcoming as the windows of her own warm house. If she could only get back home, she would do everything for her mother and father. She would obey them in whatever they told her, never talking back or making a fuss.
The puffer fish glanced back at her, frowned, and then put on a burst of speed. Anedra swam faster to catch up, feeling awkward in her fish skin. The puffer fish stopped beside a doorway of coral taller than Anedra’s father, the golden light coming from within. “Go on,” the puffer fish growled.
“What’s in there?” Anedra asked, suddenly wary. She tried to see inside, but the doorway didn’t reveal any secrets.
“For water’s sakes, go in already,” the puffer fish grumped. “It’s your new home.”
“No.” Anedra shook her head and backed away from the coral doorway. “My home is with my mother and father. I don’t belong here.”
“You do now.” Faster than she thought possible, the puffer fish circled around her, cutting off her escape and bumping into her with his cruel barbs.
“Ouch!” Anedra cried, swimming forward to put distance between them. With her eyes on the puffer fish, she scraped against something rough. When she whirled to face the new danger, she saw that she was just inside the coral doorway.
“Welcome,” a voice called out as soft as waves on a sandy shore.
Trembling in her scaly skin, Anedra turned, transfixed by the sight of a lovely lady with turtle green hair and pale skin sitting on a chair carved of rock.
“I know this must be strange to you,” the woman said, her mild blue eyes on Anedra, “but you will get used to it, as I have.”
Anedra sensed that she could trust this lovely woman with cheeks as pink as sunrise and lips as red as coral. She swam toward her, then stopped suddenly at the sight of the green tail fins waving gently in the current. “What are you?” she asked.
“I am Queen Belvedere,” the woman replied. “I used to live on land, as you once did, but a cruel giant stole my crown for his daughter, Durlynn, and threw me into the water. It was my fortune to be rescued by the water spirits who decided to turn me into my current form so I would not drown.”
Anedra gazed upon Queen Belvedere’s human half with longing. “But why am I a fish? Why don’t I have a human head and arms as you do?”
The queen fixed Anedra with her green gaze, which had suddenly gone cold. “Because you ate the fish who was my son.”
A sudden shock made Anedra’s fins tremble. “It was an accident,” she said. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“But you intentionally ate him.” Queen Belvedere gestured to Anedra. “I see the mark of his tail on your forehead.”
Anedra spread her fins. “I only had one bite. He was dead, he was a fish, and I was hungry. I didn’t know he was not what he appeared to be.”
“Your father warned you.” The beautiful queen gave a humorless smile. “And now you are a fish. Do you think if someone caught you and you begged them not to eat you that they would be so kind as to listen to your pleas?”
Anedra warmed with shame, wondering about all the fish she’d eaten over the years. Her stomach lurched. “Was every fish once a human?”
“No. Most fish are simply fish. Only a few were transformed into fish from their original human selves.”
“Can they go back?” Anedra thought of her mother and father and their warm embrace. She longed to feel their arms around her again. She would scrub a thousand floors to feel her mother’s hug, cook a thousand dinners to feel her father pat her hair.
“Very few manage to find a way. As for me, without my crown, I will stay as I am.”
“I’m sorry,” Anedra said. “If I had legs and lungs, I’d get your crown for you and restore you to human form to show you how sorry I am.”
“Do you mean it?” the green gaze sharpened.
“Of course,” Anedra said. “But what can I do? I am a fish.”
Queen Belvedere began singing, a strange, echoing song that resonated from the coral walls around them. She reached up and pulled three strands of green hair from her head and carefully braided them, still singing, then moved close enough to slip the braided hair around Anedra’s middle, tightening the green band behind her dorsal fin.
Queen Belvedere fell silent. The sea seemed ominously quiet without her song vibrating through the cold, dark water. When she spoke, her voice was low and solemn. “Now you can change yourself into any animal you choose by thinking of that animal and hitting yourself on the forehead over the fish tail mark.”
Anedra put a fin to her head. “It’s still there?”
Queen Belvedere gave a single sharp nod. “Always.”
Anedra dropped her gaze. “I’m truly sorry. If I could bring your son back, I would.”
The queen’s voice was gentler when she said, “The giant gave my crown to his homely daughter, Durlynn, who used it to enchant a prince. Even though the giant died, the wedding is scheduled to take place tomorrow in the mountain country north of here. If you can get my crown back before they are wed and return it to me, then the spell will be broken.”
“I shall do it,” Anedra said. She turned toward the coral doorway, then paused. “Will the puffer fish leave me alone?”
“With my green weaving, you have complete autonomy in the sea. No one will bother you.”
Anedra nodded, then flicked her tail and swam through the doorway. Angling upward, she swam as fast as she could manage toward the surface. The sun was high when she poked her head out of the water, blinking in the brightness. Then, with a mighty wrenching of muscles, she managed to slap herself in the forehead with her tail while imagining a seagull soaring through the salty air. Before she could think twice, she was skimming above the green water on strong and slender wings, Queen Belvedere’s green braid weaving in between fresh white feathers, behind her wings and before her dangling black feet.
Anedra’s small bird heart raced as she skimmed the surface of water, fearful that her feet would catch in the waves and drag her under. She tried tipping her wings to angle her body upward. Soaring higher, her initial alarm gradually gave way to the thrill of wind flowing against her body, the superior sensation of watching miniaturized objects passing by beneath her.
She circled, her round, black eyes scanning the horizon until she spotted what looked like land to the north. Mama, Daddy! Without a second thought, she zoomed toward the smudge of brown, excited to find her parents again. As soon as the land came into focus, she studied the shoreline, searching for the stream that emptied into the ocean. Once she spotted it, she’d follow it back to her parents’ house. Somehow she’d make them realize she was their daughter. Somehow she’d find contentment just to live near them.
Suddenly she became aware of something moving toward her through the sky. She turned her head and looked over her beak to see an eagle arrowing toward her. She squawked and dove just as the eagle flew past her head, ruffling her feathers. She beat her wings in panic, unsure of how to evade this baffling new attack.
The eagle circled back, beak open, cawing, “You have a mission to fulfill.”
Anedra called back, “I only want to see my parents.”
The eagle swooped close and Anedra shied away. “There is no time. Head for the mountains.”
To be continued…

Anedra and the Fish Prince, part 2

Anedra put the last dish away and turned toward her mother. Not only had working made her hungry and ready for lunch, but she wanted her mother to see how nice she’d made the kitchen look. “Mama?” she said. “I’m hungry.”
Her mother didn’t reply. She lay with her head on the back of the chair, her eyes closed, mouth slightly open as she breathed the deep and even breath of sleep. Even though her mother looked pale, Anedra called to her again, “Mama? I’m hungry.”
Her mother shifted slightly, but didn’t respond.
Anedra put her hands on her hips and tightened her mouth, hunger raising her ire. She had just spent an hour cleaning for her mother and now her mother had fallen asleep on her. She knew that her mother liked taking care of her, and thought about shaking her mother’s shoulder to force her to awaken.
But before she could walk over to her mother’s chair, she heard a thump at the front door. She turned just as her father bumped the door open. His eyes swept over his daughter, slanting upward at the corners as they always did at the sight of her dark curls and sea blue eyes. “I have found the most marvelous thing! He cried, setting a tightly woven basket on the table. “Where is your mother? I must tell you both.”
Anedra pointed at the chair where her mother slept, then turned to look in the basket while her father rushed to her mother’s side. The most beautiful fish she’d ever seen lay twitching beneath a layer of greenish sea water. The fish was as long as her forearm, its scales thickly colored in gleaming shades of red, orange, and deep purple with flashes of rich metallic glimmer, like silver and gold woven into the tips of the scales. The fish was breathtakingly beautiful and looked absolutely delicious. Strangely enough, it seemed to be looking up at her. Tiny bubbles like silver beads rose to the top of the water and broke through the surface. “Pretty.”
Did that fish just call me pretty? Impossible. It was her hunger talking. Anedra reach into the basket and grasped the fish by the gills. It arched in a powerful spasms of muscles, its gleaming iridescent tail swinging up with all the power in it to slap her forehead. Dazed, she fell back against the cupboard, her fists instinctively tightening on the fish as she fell.
“Anedra!” her father called, his heavy footfalls running toward her. “What happened?” Darting a glance into the basket, he cried, “Where is the fish?” His eyes focused on the lifeless fish body still clutched in Anedra’s hand, its head kilted at an odd angle. Anedra’s father fell to his knees at her side. “No!” he cried.
At first Anedra thought he was worried about her, but to her shock, he slid his hands under the fish and took it from her, cradling it gently while tears spilled down his grizzled cheeks. “No, it can’t be dead.”
“Papa? Where is your concern? That thing hit me in the head. I think it left a mark.” Anedra rubbed her forehead.
Her father looked up at her, his eyes mournful. “This was no ordinary fish.”
Mama stood in the doorway, her hair pressed up flat on one side of her head from sleeping on it. “It is more colorful than most, Henry, but what is all the fuss about?”
His gaze shifted to his wife and he gave her an apologetic smile. “It spoke to me, Maureen.”
Anedra thought she’d been hit harder than she realized. Before she could say anything, her mother said, “It spoke to you?”
“I know it seems crazy, but this fish said not to eat it or there would be dire consequences. It said it was a prince.”
“You are bewitched,” Anedra said. “Enchanted. Don’t let anyone hear you talk that way or else we will lose you.” Anedra got to her feet and pulled the fish from her father’s hands. “I am famished and I will have this fish for my lunch.”
“You must not eat it!”
“Why waste food? And what difference does it make if it’s already dead?” Anedra pulled out a pan and set it on the stove.
“You shouldn’t do that, no, you shouldn’t do that.” Her father’s voice sounded lost and scared.
“Mama, I think Daddy needs to go lie down,” Anedra said. “Why waste food?”
So she cooked the fish while her parents left the room, although she was awkward about it since it didn’t quite fit in the pan. It looked rather pitiful with its head over one side and its tail over the other, bobbing slightly in the heat waves. But that didn’t deter Anedra. Her stomach rumbled as she turned the fish over, the browned scales looking even more appealing in her hunger than the bright, clear scales on the raw side.
At last she flipped the fish onto a plate and pried the smallest bit of skin back with a fork. The flesh steamed white and moist. Anedra put her fork in and lifted a small block of fish to her mouth. She’d never tasted anything better. It was rich and buttery and seemed to infuse energy into her cells.
Anedra’s father stepped through the doorway and strode toward his daughter, tears rolling down his face. “I cannot let you do this.” He swept his hand across her plate and the fish was gone, carried in his big hand to the door.
“No!” Anedra cried, jumping up from the table. Her father had never denied her anything she wanted before, and she wanted that fish.
“Where is he?” Mama asked, hurrying into the kitchen.
“Out there. We must stop him.” Anedra ran through the door into the yard and saw her father heading for the stream bank, the fish held slightly back from his body, ready to throw.
“Is he going to jump in?” Mama asked from behind her.
“Papa, don’t!” Anedra yelled, just as the fish arced up into the air, its scorched scales catching a hint of color from the sunlight.
Anedra reached her father’s side just as the fish splashed into the water and sank from sight. Inexplicable tears welled up in her eyes. “Why?” she whispered.
“To save you, my girl,” Henry said, reaching out to touch her dark curls.
Anedra wobbled, the bones in her legs seeming to flatten out into a substance as thin as sheets of paper, unable to hold her weight. Her father’s arm swept around her, trying to support her, but she slipped through his grasp.
“Anedra!” her mother gasped. “What’s happening to you?”
Her father sank to the ground beside her. “You didn’t eat the fish, Anedra, you didn’t eat the fish, did you?”
“Just one bite,” she gasped, then her mouth moved up and down, up and down, and no more sound came out. Her arms shortened and thinned, shriveling to stubby, paper thin limbs that wafted ineffectually in the air. Anedra’s lungs shrank, and she gasped for air. Her stomach squeezed so tightly that she threw up, the flow of vomit arcing out into the stream.
“No!” Mama shrieked. “My daughter! Where is my daughter?”
Why are you asking? I’m right here and I don’t feel well. Take care of me, Mama.
“Why did you eat the fish?” Henry cried, his voice wobbling with emotion. “You weren’t supposed to eat it.” With a gentle caress, he slid his arms under Anedra’s body and lifted her up from the bank. Then he tipped her upside down and slid her head-first into the water.
Anedra gasped in shock and flailed her limbs as the cold water slid through her new gills, giving her oxygen. She flipped her tail and moved to the surface of the water, looking up to see her parents bent over the stream, staring down at her, their faces full of sorrow, tears raining down to dimple the water over her head.
I’m a fish, Anedra thought with surprise. But she was not a fish. Not inside. She was a girl who wanted to go home. Gazing up through the water at her parents’ faces, she realized how much she loved them and didn’t want to leave them. Why hadn’t she listened to her father? More importantly, how could she get back to the way she was supposed to be?
(To be continued next week.)

Kindles for Kids & Anedra and the Fish Prince Fairy Tale

KINDLES FOR KIDS is asking for fairy tales to load onto kindles so hospitalized children will have something to read. I've wanted to contribute, but... well... who isn't busy? (Click here for more info on this worthy cause.)
I don't know if I'll make the deadline, but I thought I'd start a fairy tale here and see where it goes.
Ahem.
ANEDRA AND THE FISH PRINCE
Not so very long ago, a middle aged fisherman and his wife and daughter lived by a stream that tumbled into the sea. The fisherman was mild-mannered and steady in his work, his wife was diligent in keeping house and caring for her family, and the teenage daughter was remarkably beautiful and quite lazy. With her head of dark curls and blouse of scarlet, she'd usually leave her room in a mess and skip down the stairs to coax her mother for money so she could go to town and socialize and buy sweets.
Her mother, looking upon her only child's bright blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and endearing smile, would say, "Anedra, I cannot refuse you, but I do wish you would help me around the house."
"Later," Anedra said, her hand outstretched, her smile sparkling. "Thank you, Mama." She kissed her mother on the cheek and bounced out the door, giving her father an enthusiastic wave on her way to town.
Then one day, with her father out fishing as usual, Anedra came bouncing down the stairs. When she saw her mother's face, she stopped. The way the light came in through the small window showed lines on her mother's skin that Anedra hadn't noticed before. Shadows sat beneath her mother's eyes, and her mouth was drawn down until she looked 100 years old.
"Mama, are you all right?" Anedra asked, moving to her side.
Her mother looked up and tried to smile. "I don't feel well today, dear. That's all."
Anedra felt a wave of concern crash over her heart. For the first time, she thought about how her mother might feel. "What can I do to help you?" Anedra asked.
Her mother stared at her with concern in her eyes. She placed a hand on Anedra's forehead. "My daughter, are you well?"
Anedra laughed at her mother's expression. "I am doing better than you. Come over here and put your feet up. Let me make you something soothing to drink. Shall I wash the dishes for you? I think I can figure it out."
Although she walked like she was in a dream, Anedra's mother followed her daughter's instruction to sit on a chair and put her feet up. Then she watched her daughter bustle about the kitchen, wiping up spills, cleaning dishes, sweeping the floor. What had come over her daughter?
To Be Continued Next Week...