Here are some more Free Stories!

Curse of the Vicious Sea Hares ~ A Dragonson Story

By: Walter G. Esselman

“Pav?” called out the young boy Gideon. He was deep inside the castle of Bon Su Pear, which was slowly sinking into the sea. His torch sizzled as a large drop of water hit it. Gideon felt very alone waist deep in the black water. “Pavataro?”

The water rippled behind him. Slowly a head, on a long neck, slithered out of the water drawing itself up right behind the boy.

“Boo!” whispered the creature.

“Gah!” shouted Gideon as he jumped out of his skin. The head reared back to reveal the young dragon Pavataro laughing uproariously. “Stop that!”

“You shoulda seen your face, Lunchmeat,” grinned Pavataro letting his tongue loll out in glee.

“We have work to do,” snapped Gideon.

“No,” said Pavataro.

“’No’? What do you mean ‘No’?” asked Gideon.

“Can’t go,” said Pavataro.

“And why not?” asked Gideon.

The dragon shrugged. “I’m a big, mean predator.”

“Definitely big, especially in the butt region,” said Gideon.

“Shut it Lunchmeat,” snapped Pavataro, using his old schoolyard nickname for the boy.

But Gideon stared him down.  

“Besides, this is all your fault,” said the boy.

“My fault?” asked Pavataro. “It was you who knocked over the table at the party.”

“And you who pushed me,” said Gideon.

“You deserved it,” sniffed Pavataro, though he was a little fuzzy on why the boy had deserved it. “But I don’t deserve this. It’s beneath me to hunt these…whadyoucallem?”

“Sea-Hares,” said Gideon.

“Who ever even heard of a Sea-Hare?” demanded Pavataro.

“I don’t know,” said Gideon. “Regent said that we didn’t have to hurt them really. 

It isn’t until they’ve established a big nest that they’re really dangerous.”

“So throwing some stupid jar at them is supposed to scatter them?” asked Pavataro.

“I guess,” said Gideon in a dubious voice. He fished a clear jar full of an off-white substance and they both peered at it in the gloom.

“I don’t want to know,” declared Pavataro.

“But we still have to be careful,” said Gideon.

“Seriously? From anything called a Sea-Hare?” asked Pavataro. “Give me a break.”

Which was when the Sea-Hares attacked.

They exploded out of the water gnashing at the boys. 

Gideon caught sight of a creature with the body and tail of a fish but the legs, ears and teeth of a hare before it bit him. Pavataro thrashed in the water trying to throw the creatures off.

“This is embarrassing,” whined the dragon as they batted the Sea-Hares off of them.

“Run AWAY!” cried Gideon and they both took off in a random direction. It was a hard slough to run in knee high water. Sea-Hares bit at him when he spotted the creature’s burrow down the rise from them.

“There it is!” cried Gideon as he surged forward. He fumbled in his pack for the suspicious jar that Regent had given him. Grasping the jar he pulled it free.

There was a crack beneath him and the ground went out from under him. He was sucked into a waterfall as he tumbled down into a pool of water below. Gideon hit the bottom and pushed himself up to get air. Just as he tried to suck in oxygen, Pavataro landed next to him knocking the boy back with a tidal wave.

Gideon emerged to say something nasty to the dragon when he realized that his hands were empty. He had dropped the jar when he fell. 

Pavataro stood out of the water and shook off a group of Sea-Hares. Gideon moved out of the way of a flying Sea-Hare without hardly noticing. He looked into the black water but he could not see a thing.

A cry erupted from the top of the half-built city.

“Snail burgers,” said Pavataro as more Sea-Hares rushed out of the city.

“I can’t find it!” shouted Gideon.

“Your brain?” asked Pavataro.

“No, the jar,” said Gideon. He was reaching blindly into the dark waters.

The Sea-Hares were almost upon them. Pavataro turned and stuck his snout under the water. The dragon let out a bright flame that lit up the water. The jar immediately glinted in the light.

“Got it!” cried Gideon. Grabbing the jar of suspicious fluid, he leapt up and threw it at the miniature city. The jar smashed in the middle of the Sea-Hare’s burrow. 

The approaching Sea-Hares screeched to a halt. They whuffled the air and suddenly scattered to the four winds. 

Gideon sat in the water and took a deep breath.

“Why...why did they leave?” asked Pavataro.

“Dunno,” said Gideon. “Maybe your breath.”

Pavataro whapped Gideon on the shoulder, but not too hard. The dragon leaned his head forward and sniffed the air.

“Lemon and tartar sauce?” asked Pavataro.

“Regent said it was his Mom’s old recipe,” said Gideon.

“And why do we hate Sea-Hares again?” asked Pavataro. 

Gideon opened his mouth for a moment and then shut it.

“Don’t remember,” shrugged the boy. He got up slowly and took a look around. 

“One question.”

“Shoot,” said Pavataro.

“Where are we?” asked Gideon. Pavataro looked around.

“I got nothing,” replied the dragon.

“Snail burgers,” muttered Gideon.

Professor Whizzbang’s Balloon Flute
By: Walter G. Esselman

Professor Whizzbang was a teacher. But he found that his classroom was too short for someone so tall.  And he was very tall. 

So, he and his bear, Milton, decided to make the world his classroom.

They packed all their belongings into a Thingamabob from the Great Lakes Expedition Company before heading out on to the open road. 

Milton and him took turns pulling the Thingamabob because that is only fair.

One bright morning, Whizzbang was walking along the street when he heard a little girl named Carmen crying. 

“Are you alright?” asked Whizzbang.  His white, fluffy eyebrows drew together in concern.

“My cat’s stuck in the tree,” she said pointing upwards.  “His name is Rascommon and he’s being bad.”

Up in the tree there was indeed an orange cat.

Whizzbang tried to reach the cat but even he was not tall enough.

“Please come down cat?” requested Whizzbang.
“Don’t want to,” spat the cat. “And you can’t make me.”

“This could be difficult,” he said scratching his fuzzy pointy beard.  He looked at the bear. “What do you think Milton?”

“I think we need tea,” suggested Milton while adjusting his silver spectacles.

“Young lady,” said Whizzbang to Carmen. “You better tell your mother that you’re going to be a while longer.  We wouldn’t want her to worry.” 

And the bear made tea while Whizzbang set up a little table with cream and sugar.

Carmen returned with her mother Ann just as Whizzbang finished setting out the cups and saucers.    Everyone shook hands and had tea.

“We could try the music steps,” suggested Milton.

“That’s a brilliant idea,” said Whizzbang slapping his forehead.

Whizzbang touched a button on the Thingamabob and the Thingamabob changed to create an organ with little pipes above.

With a flourish, Whizzbang began to play Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik”.  The black notes rose up out of the pipes and floated over to the cat who eyed them suspiciously. The notes reformed into little stairs all the way to the ground.

“Please come down,” pleaded Carmen.

“Don’t wanna,” grumbled the cat, Rascommon.

Whizzbang stopped playing and the notes drifted off on the wind.  They thought again.

“How about food, he loves tuna fish!” suggested the mother, Ann. She sprinted off and got a can of tuna fish.  They left it at the base of the tree.

“Come on down, you love tuna fish!” pleaded Ann.

“Not today,” said Rascommon.

“Now I’m hungry,” moaned Milton.  He pulled at his red and blue vest. 
So with Ann’s permission, they ate tuna fish on crackers and it was great.

“It’s too bad that the tree can not bend over,” said Carmen.

“Trees complain terribly when they have to bend,” said Milton the bear.

“We could try the balloon flute,” said Whizzbang.

“That might work,” said Milton. The bear went and got the balloon flute.  It was shaped like a wooden native flute.  Whizzbang put it to his mouth and began to play. And as he played part of Bach’s “Badinerie”, brightly colored balloons came out of the holes.  

Long strings dangled under the balloons.The rainbow of balloons ducked around the sharp branches and floated over to the cat.  They picked him up with their strings.

“Hey, stop it,” complained Rascommon but the balloons held the cat fast.

Carefully, the cat was carried down to the little girl and put into Carmen’s arms.  She hugged him tight until his eyes almost bulged out.

“What were you doing up there?” asked Carmen.

“Not telling,” said Rascommon.  He avoided her gaze.

Whizzbang looked from the tree to where Rascommon had been looking. He took out a little telescope and down the street, saw a pretty female cat in a window.  Professor Whizzbang looked over at the cat and tried to hide his smile.

“What is her name?” asked Whizzbang gently.
“What’re you talking about?” asked Rascommon guiltily.

But Whizzbang just looked at the cat with an arched fluffy eyebrow.

“Mabel,” mumbled Rascommon in embarrassment.

“Well, you must go and talk with her,” stated Whizzbang.

“But she is too beautiful to like me,” said Rascommon sadly.

“You never know until you try,” said Whizzbang.

And so, they went down the street and introduced Rascommon to Mabel.

The Assassin’s Penny is one of my favorite screenplays that I never finished. I have no idea where the story goes from here, but I love this opening scene, now in prose. And it vexes me that I have no idea what happens next. 
The story is born out of my belief that life is never too bad to kill yourself. If life is that bad, walk away. “Kill off” who you were and hit the road. Leave behind that other life and go forth. It’s less messy, and less selfish, than killing yourself. And you can come back once you’ve gotten yourself sorted out, which you can not do after you are dead. 
But once you are on the road, call your family every month from a non-traceable phone so they know that you’re all right. Don’t be a jerk and let them worry needlessly. 
This philosophy is embedded in another character, The Saracen, as well.

But, if you need someone to talk to:

National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 800-273-8255.

The Assassin’s Penny
By: Walter G. Esselman

The wind teased at Penny’s waitressing skirt as she stepped out onto the roof. She held the skirt down as she walked forward. Soon the wind quit as if it did not have the strength to go on. The rooftop was like a dark island surrounded by a circus of Las Vegas lights below. But up here, she was high enough that she only heard a susurrus of the cars, laughter and song below. Up here, they did not penetrate into the darkness that wrapped around her. 
Stepping to the edge, she climbed up onto the lip of the roof. Below was a garden courtyard just removed from the bustling street. She checked again to make sure that there was no one directly below. Penny closed her eyes.
“You’re going to miss the pool,” A voice said helpfully behind her. Her eyes snapped open and she looked over. Sitting, just a little ways away, was a thickly built man named Saber in a blue-grey suit. His tie was loosened at his neck and a cigar burned in his hand. 
“What makes you think I’m aiming for the pool?” Penny asked and she was proud that her voice did not crack.
“Wouldn’t recommend jumping otherwise,” Saber suggested languidly. “It’s a long way to sea level.”
“Twenty stories,” Penny replied.
Saber reached into his lap and lifted up a bottle of Glenfiddich.
“Well, I have a hundred stories,” he replied. “Would you like a swig before you go? Not good to travel on an empty stomach.”
“Thanks, but I’ve already had dinner.”
“That’s good.”
“Lobster and salad.”
“Better than Mickey D’s,” Saber nodded approvingly.
Penny hesitated because Saber still held the bottle of Glenfiddich out. Finally, he took a long pull from the bottle. He wiped the mouth of the bottle and then set it closer to her on the rooftop.
“If the lady so desires,” Saber said. His voice was deep, but smooth like the whiskey.
“And what are you doing up here?” Penny asked. Her slim shoulders were still bunched up under her work polo.
“Can’t smoke in my hotel room so I headed up here. It’s quite nice actually. All the light without the noises. The cacophony sets my teeth on edge after a while.”
“Too loud everywhere these days.”
Saber barked in laughter and Penny jumped. Somehow the laughter slipped in past her defenses and brushed her spirit like a caress.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Saber grinned. “Besides, I got a murder to plan an’ I think better in the open air.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m in town to kill someone. Quite dead.”
Penny took a step back and almost went over the edge.
“Careful!” Saber said in concern. 
Penny moved off the edge of the roof, but eyed Saber wearily as if she had just found herself up here with a tiger. But Saber just grinned kindly at her reaction. 
“That’s nice. You might be the only person who would be sympathetic if he dies.”
“Why does he have to die?” Penny asked.
“Dude made someone furiously mad and cut his own throat,” Saber said in a sad tone. “Now we’re here to clean up.”
“Why tell me?” Penny was thrilled that the question came out without a quiver in her voice, since there was certainly a tremor in her stomach. But the big man just shrugged slowly.
“You’re going to be at ground level soon,” Saber said thoughtfully. “Who can you tell then?”
“True,” Penny admitted reluctantly. But she did not step back onto the lip of the roof.
Saber nodded his chin at the bottle. “That bottle’s getting lonely.”
“It’s whispering to you?” Penny asked with amusement. 
“Bawling its damn head off!” Saber barked. “Feeling lonely, forgotten.”
Penny’s shoulders turned inward to her chest and she deflated. Sitting on the edge of the roof, she picked up the bottle. Penny looked at the bottle for a moment.
“Sorry, no glasses,” Saber admitted. “I am not only a heathen, but a barbarian as well.”
Penny looked over at the big man for a moment and then took a long pull. It burned a little, but she swallowed easily. With a bright grin, she handed the bottle back to him. He nodded in respect.
“Thought I’d be coughing my head off?” Penny preening with a sly smile.
“Just a little,” Saber admitted.
Saber took the bottle and drank from it without bothering to wipe the mouth. His phone started chiming the song, “Ding dong, the witch is dead.” But Saber ignored it as he handed the bottle back to her.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Penny asked in between swigs from the bottle. “You can, you know.”
Saber sighed. “Probably just my old lady grumping about something.”
“A married assassin?” Penny chuckled and Saber considered that. 
“Actually, I knew a guy who had twelve grandkids,” Saber said. “He killed a guy by pretending to fall beside the street. When the guy came to his aid, this old geezer pushed the guy in front of a bus.”
“That’s awful,” Penny grimaced.
“Murder is murder,” Saber said as his tone grew dark and thoughtful. “I don’t think you have any cause to make judgements.”
“I’ve never killed anyone!” Penny exclaimed defensively.
“You were going to join the rest of us, down in the fire,” Saber said.
“How do you know,” Penny said sharply. “Maybe I’ll be forgiven. I don’t think He wants his children to suffer.”
“I can’t say,” Saber said. “I’ve never met the man. But what do I know, I’m Catholic…”
“I’m sorry.”
“…Thanks, and I believe that jumping to sea level is going to tick him off.”
“Las Vegas isn’t at sea level.”
“You know what I mean.”
“And you don’t know for sure what happens after.”
Saber shrugged. “When Judas killed himself, God was sad because he would have forgiven him before that. Maybe he still would.” Saber gave a short, bark of a laughter. “I’m just saying that I’m not going to chance it.”
Penny upended the bottle and then blinked. She looked in it surprised and now a little tipsy.
“And I killed the bottle. Sorry.”
Saber did not comment but looked at the stub of his cigar. There was barely anything left.
“And I killed my cigar. Well, I guess it’s time.”
Giving a clap of his hands, Saber threw the cigar over his shoulder and stood up.
“Bottle please?” asked Saber. 
Penny, with the precise, planned motions of someone who had had too much, handed over the bottle. He took it in one hand and held out his free hand. After a moments hesitation, she took it. Saber led Penny up onto the lip of the roof. He let go of her hand and stood behind her. Wrapping his free arm around her waist, he pulled her lithe body close. Penny’s heart charged at the press of his warmth.
“Mistah,” Penny drawled in an excellent Southern accent. “I don’t even know you.” But the effect was ruined by her girlish giggle.
“They call me Saber,” the man whispered warmly into her ear. He held the empty bottle over the plummet.
“But that’s not your real name.”
“Ah! You haven’t earned that knowledge yet.”
“You won’t even tell a dying woman?”
“What’s your name?”
“P…Penny.” Her heart raced, but she was not sure if it was because of Saber’s closeness or her impending drop.
“Okay, P…Penny,” Saber whispered. “Are you ready?”
Penny’s heart felt like a lead brick in the darkness. “Yes.”
Penny closed her eyes and began to step forward but Saber pulled her back tight. She opened her eyes in surprise as Saber dropped the bottle off the edge to the empty pavement below.
“There you go,” Saber said.
“What?” The woman was confused.
“You jumped. You’re falling.”
The bottle smashed on the pavement far below.
“Penny’s gone.” Saber declared.
“But I’m still alive.”
“A minor technicality. Penny went to sea level. She’s gone. Now YOU, you can go on.”
Saber led the confused woman off the edge of the roof. She sat down heavily on the lip of the roof and squinted up at the big man in confusion.
“I don’t understand,” She muttered.
“We dropped the Sorrow-That-Was-Penny off a building, quite unceremoniously.”
“But…what do I do?”
Saber gave a sly smile. “Come with me.”
“What?”
“YOU don’t have to be at work tomorrow because Penny is dead, an’ if you’re dead, no one expects you to come to work. In fact, they might wish you had not if you’re starting to decay. Health code regulations and all that. But I, on the other hand, really need you.”
“You do? To do what?” 
“This and that. Does it really matter to a spirit?” Saber wondered.
She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “It does actually. You want me to help you kill someone?”
“Yep.”
“And that’s a better option than what I was going to do?”
“You won’t know until you try,” Saber said. “Besides, you still have a chance now at redemption.”
“By killing someone?” She asked in an arch tone. “And what about you?”
Saber looked down at the ground thoughtfully before he spoke. “He would have forgiven Judas for killing his only son…maybe there’s hope for me yet.”
“I’m not sure about this.”
“Would it help to know that the guy we’re after is a really bad guy, even by my…” Saber paused for a second. “…my rather loose definition of morality.”
“How bad?”
“You could say that he’s a real Son Of A Bitch. And we’re going to stop him from ever harming another kid again.”
The woman’s brow furrowed in deep thought.
Saber’s phone rang again and he answered it after the “Ding dong” but before “the Witch is dead”. 
“Yeah?” Saber asked. “I’m up on the hotel roof…I didn’t feel like answering earlier…I know we’re busy, but I had stuff to do. I think I found our Cinderella…I found her at my hotel…no, I’m not sleeping with her…”
Saber made an exasperated face to Penny and she giggled despite herself.
“Who’s that laughing? It’s our Cinderella. Where are you?…Why the hell didn’t you tell us you were downstairs? I’ll be there in a second.”
Saber hung up his phone and looked at the woman.
“Your old lady?”
“Yep.”
She looked pensive studying the gravel rooftop.
Saber stepped closer to her and squatted down before her. He put one finger gently under her chin. She looked up at him lost.
“Come with me tonight. Have a drink with an umbrella in it. If you’re not interested in joining our little job, I’ll kill you myself. Painlessly.”
She gave a bark of laughter and spoke sarcastically. “What a flattering offer.”
But Saber just continued to look at her seriously. “At least then your hands will be clean. Give you a chance at the clouds.”
She stopped as she realized the gravity of what he meant. Her voice faltered. She rallied and then she spoke.
“But why do that for me?”
Saber just grinned at that. “I’m a big softie?”
And for a moment, he almost leaned in to kiss her. Her breath caught again, but for a different reason.
The roof door banged open.
“We’re late!” Swirling out the door, a wiry young man with a receding hairline stalked out. The wiry man, Lemming, stormed up to them glaring at Saber. “What are you still doing up here?”
Saber just smiled at Lemming indulgently as he stood up.
“We’re not late,” Saber replied. “Polo is always behind.”
“What if he’s not, huh?” Lemming demanded. “What’ll we do then.”
“We’ll tell him we’ve been on the other side of the bar all this whole time AND where the hell has he been?”
Lemming spluttered and threw up his hands. He turned to look at the woman.“This Cinderella?”
“Yep,” Saber acknowledged. He turned to her. “Cinderella, this is My Old Lady.”
“Stop that!!!” Lemming cried. “It makes me sound like your girlfriend.”
“Old Lady,” Saber corrected.
“Whatever!” Lemming snapped. He looked at the woman, Cinderella. “You can call me Lemming. And me and the ton of meat over there are not in a relationship. We’re very unattached.”
Saber chuckled. “Lemming’s been nagging me for about…what? Fifteen years now?”
“Too fucking long,” Lemming admitted, but without much rancor.
Saber smiled. “Somedays.”
“Can we get outta here?” Lemming demanded.
“After you sunshine,” Saber said.
Lemming made an exasperated noise and went to the rooftop door. Saber turned to Cinderella and held out his hand.
“Where are we going?” Cinderella wondered.
“To get the bad guy,” Saber grinned.
Cinderella stood dropping her waitress’ half-apron behind her and a smattering of pennies rolled out. She took his hand and it was warm in the night.
Lemming just rolled his eyes to heaven. “God help us.”

Just after my 1st niece, Kara, was first born, I wrote a story about her and for her.  
It follows a magical little girl named Kara who is befriended by the trickster god, Coyote.  I am a big fan of Coyote so he occasionally runs through my writing.  
Now, this is actually the second story I wrote about my niece when she was first born.  Ultimately, I gave “Kara’s Coyote” to her Mother for her first birthday.  At the time, Kara was not into it, since she was more interested in Jean Paul Sartre’s work.  You know how babies are.  Anyhow, here it is.
[Update — 10/3/2020: Last year, my niece got married to a really nice fellow, and at the beginning of next year, she’s going to have her own little one.  Time flies!]

KARA’S COYOTE

By: Walter G. Esselman

“I want a doggy.”

This was said in the solemn, thoughtful way that philosophers reveal their findings after several weeks under a waterfall.  The little girl, Kara, looked up at her Mommy expectantly.  Kara's little dark eyes seemed to glitter. 

Her mother smiled in that benign way allowing the child to speak their mind, consider what they had said, and, hopefully, not promising a thing.

“Let your father and I discuss it Kara,” said her Mommy.

“You don’t want a doggy?“ asked Kara.  "We could get a nice one.  Molly got one for Christmas.  They got it from the an-i-mal shelter.  AND they put it in a white box with a red ribbon around it.  EXcept the dog chewed its way out and winkled on the carpet.  My doggie wouldn’t winkle on the carpet.”

“We’ll see,” said Kara’s Mommy.  “Now Mommy needs quiet work time.”

“Can I go in the back yard?” asked Kara.

“Only if you stay where I can see you,” said Kara’s Mommy.

Now as this conversation was going on, Coyote had been caught in a snare.  He was understandably surprised since he had figured that there were few if any poachers in the Detroit suburbs.  At least poachers that didn’t wear suits.  But he figured it just went to show something or other.  He wasn’t quite sure what.  He looked after the friend he had been playing and chasing with, but she was long gone. 

This was quite embarrassing for a demi-god like him.  The more Coyote struggled against the snare the more it held his hind leg.  He could call on a friend in town but he would just laugh at the poor creature.  He considered changing form when a squeaky voice interrupted.

“Who are you?” asked a small blue beetle.

 “I am Coyote,” said Coyote.  “Traveler and trickster.”

“Don’t look like you're traveling too far,” said the blue beetle.

“I’ve been temporarily laid up Blue Beetle,” said Coyote.

“You the Coyote from the south west?” asked the blue beetle.

“Yes,” said Coyote preening, at having his name so well known.

“Thought you’d be bigger,” said the Blue Beetle.  “Why’re you out so far?”

“Thought I’d see the world,” said Coyote.

“Looks like all you’ll see is a digestive tract,” laughed the Blue Beetle.

So Coyote ate him.  Or, at least chomped the Blue Beetle into his mouth and let it squirm awhile.  It was at that moment that Kara came upon him.  She had wandered into the woods to explore and now found something interesting.

Coyote spit the beetle out without even paying attention.  It hit the ground rolling while its body collected spitty mud.

“Gull-darnit what did you go and do that for?” grumbled the beetle as he wandered off.

Coyote looked at Kara and began to whine pitifully.

Kara walked over and stood a safe distance away.

In the background, she heard her mother calling but she would answer soon.  After she figured out what to do with the doggy.

“Help me fair maiden help me,” whined Coyote in his dog tongue.  “Help me and I will grant you a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” asked Kara.

Now Coyote had been around too long to let a minor thing like a girl, who shouldn’t be able to understand him, faze him.  This was along the same lines as if your pet explained in calm, easy tones one day why they would like your steak rather than their pet food.

Without blinking, Coyote replied.   “Anything your hearts desire.”

But Coyote was looking at her in a new way.  He had planned just to run off when she freed him but now he was not sure what to do.  Coyote peered deep into her and saw something special about her.

“I want a doggy,” said Kara in a tone of voice that left no doubt that she was going to be persuaded to settle for a Barbie.  “You’re a doggy.  So you be my doggy.”

“I am a coyote,” said Coyote.

Kara shrugged.  She didn’t care what Coyote said because he still looked like a skinny doggy.

Her mother was getting closer now.

“Sure, sure,” said Coyote.  He figured that that was the mother and she would probably take his ticket at easy freedom away.

Kara nodded and pulled open the snare.

Coyote was off like a shot!

“Doggy?” called Kara to the still-moving bushes.  “doggy?”

Kara began to cry in huge gulping sobs.

Her mother appeared immediately.  She crashed through the bushes ignoring the cuts she received.  Kara’s mother wrapped her arms around the little girl as she cried.

“Are you okay?” asked Kara’s Mommy.

“He…He…HE promised!” cried Kara.

“Who promised?” asked Kara’s Mommy.

“The…the…(Big sniff)…the doggy,” said Kara.  “He said he’d be my…DOGGY!”

And the tears started up again.

There was a bark behind Kara.  She turned around to see Coyote standing at the edge of the clearing.  He was doing his best martyred look.

“Doggy!” cried Kara as she tried to run to Coyote.

Her mother grabbed her by the overalls.

“No Kara,” said Kara’s Mommy.  “That’s not safe.”

“But he’s a good doggy,” pleaded Kara.  “He's nice, an’ smart, he won’t winkle on the cats, an’…an’ he even does tricks.”

“No I don’t,” said Coyote.  All Kara’s mother heard was a sharp bark and she started to edge away.

“Yes,” said Kara.  “He does.  Roll over.”

Coyote opened his mouth to speak and then he looked at her expectant face.  He dropped to the ground and rolled over.

“Sit up,” ordered Kara and he did so.  “Shake hands.”

Coyote whined pitifully, not wanting to debase himself even farther.

“SHAKE HANDS,” said Kara.

Sighing inside, Coyote did so.  Then he hopped on his hind paws toward them.  When he was close, Coyote dropped to the ground and walked the rest of the way with his head down.

Kara reached out a hand before her mother could stop her.  Coyote let Kara and then her mother scratch him behind the ears.

I guess I can stay a little while, thought Coyote.  Just to look after the girl.

Now Dad was none too happy to have gained another member to the family.  But he warmed up when Coyote appeared with his slippers.  A moment later Coyote sneezed them out because they had been forgotten under the parent’s bed for a long time.

It was an odd transition.  Coyote preferred to be free.

But he found, to his horror, that he was enjoying his suburban prison.  True, he couldn’t go and do as he pleased when he wanted to, but there were certain advantages to this life. 

Warmth was one of them.

He had traveled a long time and had spent too many nights under a cold bush with nothing to keep him warm.  Also, he knew it was a long way to Arizona and a harsh winter was setting in. 

The food was awful, but on the other hand, you didn’t have to chase after it.  It just waited placidly while you ate it.  He had never had deer do the same.

Coyote could leave anytime he wanted to.

He just didn’t want to.

But suddenly he was having second thoughts about that.

“You stink,” said Kara as she wrinkled up her nose.  She stood before a bathtub set against the vine-covered house.  The tub was crowned with bubbles.

"What?“ replied Coyote.  "It’s taken me a long time to get my scent just right.”  He preened.  “Even a little tiger in there.”

“Can’t smell like that here,” said Kara shaking her head.  “Too stinkee.”

Coyote started to back away.

“Now come back here Coyote,” said Kara.  She was getting upset as she circled around to try and back Coyote into the water.

Nice tactic, thought Coyote.  She’s smart and…what’s this?

Coyote was too busy trying to get a fix on her aura to notice that she had planted herself opposite the wall, with him in the middle.  Kara’s aura began to crackle with energy that she must have been storing up over the course of her life.

Like a battery, thought Coyote.

“Get in the water now!” said Kara who was obviously frustrated.

And she’s about to explode…at me no less, thought Coyote.

The blue aura flushed with red and the combination of colors turned a green until all the blue had been flushed out.  All that remained was a brilliant red.  Coyote felt the pit of his stomach drop.

Kara stomped her foot and the ground crackled with energy.  Coyote knew that once started Kara, she did not have the maturity to stop the flow of power emanating from her.

I’ll have to…, started Coyote’s thoughts when instinct took over.  He tossed himself to one side as several vines grasped at the air he had just vacated.  Coyote looked back at the house and the vines creeping up its side were now pulsing with life.  They pulled off the side of the house like an octopus’ tentacles and arced toward Coyote.

Kara stood rooted to the spot.  Her mouth gaped as the vines were attempting to snatch Coyote.  He bobbed and weaved as he leapt in and about the vines.  Coyote did not have time to see how much energy was pouring into the ground from Kara.  She did not even know she was doing it.

Coyote looked at Kara desperate for a plan to help the girl not to mention himself.  A vine snatched his leg.  It began to drag him towards the bathtub.  Another vine snapped toward a front paw.  Coyote dodged at the last second.  Then a plan came to him.

Coyote took a large leap toward Kara but the vines slowed him down.  As more and more of the vines began to grasp him, Coyote took step by agonizing step toward her. 

Kara just watched his advance as if it were a dream.

The vines on Coyote pulled him back a few steps but he fought against them.  He regained those steps and more.

All of Coyote’s attention was focused on Kara’s hand.  He reached out with his head and touched his wet nose against it.

There was a red arc like a static shock from her hand to his nose but it did not go away.  All of Coyote’s hair stood on end as he drained the latent energy from her.  Her aura turned green and then sea blue. 

The vines let go of Coyote and went back to the wall where they stayed.  Kara sat down.

“Tired,” was all she said.  She curled up on the ground and fell asleep.

Coyote sat down heavily.  His black nose smoked a little bit.

“All in a good day's work,” grinned Coyote as he curled up next to her.

They slept for a while until Kara woke.

“I fell asleep?” asked Kara.

Coyote blinked once or twice.  Need coffee! thought Coyote.

The past in Kara’s mind drifted across her memory like a bad dream.

Kara shook him.

“What happened?” asked Kara.

“You were tired so you took a nap,” shrugged Coyote.  He yawned showing all his teeth and then smacked his mouth a few times.  He regarded Kara.  The power was almost completely drained from her.  She would be safe for a good while; but just in case, he would have to hang around in case she built up another charge like that one.

Kara shook him.

“You’re not listening,” said Kara.

“What?  Sorry?” said Coyote.

“I said, we still haven’t given you your bath,” said Kara.

“Oh no,” moaned Coyote.