Caught

the boys swarmed the tower in the middle of the lake. They had not seen any girls since their moms had dropped them off at dawn to enjoy the excruciating fun of summer sports camp. Now, twenty feet in the air on a square of concrete, ringed by a single, and slightly reluctant metal bar, the boys who had fought and pushed and run to beat the time of the best and fastedst boy, pushed and shoved, competing for proximity to the barefooted lifeguard girl. Her primary adornment was an old lady's rain-scarf that she used as a headband, which headband she had sequestered from the rubble of her great-aunt's house once they'd moved the ancient lady elsewhere. She did not come from money. One glance would tell you that she came from a different place than these boys that she watched over. She was the offspring of pioneers and preachers. Her car was old and sturdy. And like her hair, unwashed, except by either lake water or natural forces.

The boys pushed and shoved their way up the concrete stairs, arriving all at once in a wave of adolescent exuberance. The one deliberate iron bar that wound it's way resignedly around the threshold of the tower, with the gat-toothed openings on its west and south sides corralled the boys much as a belt around the overflowing girth of a fat old man. As a group they yelled and pushed and pawed the tower until the pushing of the group found the one boy closest to the open edge, and with a forceful snap, expelled him. She gave a primal scream as his falling body hung suspended for a moment, and as a dozen arms reached out and pulled him back.

the girl and the grasshopper - part II

Reginald and the girl sat and talked for hours, or hundreds and hundreds of minutes, though neither of them realized the passing of the time, but only vaguely noticed the darkening sky, not paying it a whit. Reginald told her what the world looked like to him, and how his family was, and what his friends did for fun. (They played chess and Loved to eat tomato leaves, and occasionally read Emerson essays to their chess-playing companions.) The girl told Reginald what her world was like. They had different experiences, though they lived so close to each other. And then it was dark, and the outside lights of the coffee shop came on like winking smile-eyes, and both were expected home for dinner. So they made plans to meet again, since they both realized that friendship like this was a rare treat.

Reginald un-cricked his legs as he got up to say goodby, and adjusted his hat as he bowed a heart-felt bow to the girl. "Good evening, my dear Lady." The girl nodded to him, smiling. "God-speed, my dear fellow." And they both walked off into the gathering dusk.

the girl with the golden brain

whose thoughts created a world where little boys could build robots with their words,

and who as babies could run at light speed through an afternoon of sunshine, and see through the pith to the core of each creatures' heart.

her brushes painted doors into different dimensions where hidden truths were laid bare, and danced all day on a deep blue see.

and where everyday was a climbing up an altar to lay down on it her rights to her own story, and where the Truth she served set her rights on fire and turned them into songs, which he sang back to her until the wee hours of the next day's morning.

the girl and the grasshopper

the grasshopper

did not go to the coffee shop expecting to make a friend, (though this is certainly the frame of mind in which one is the most likely to make a friend).

He was green

and they were giants.

Also, he preferred tea to coffee, but this did not stop him.

He was a friendly sort, and did not take to heart

the shrieks of lady patrons.

it was a beautiful sunny day, and he was wearing his new spectacles,

so the world was crisp and bright.

He went merrily along the patio, his abdomen warmed by the pavement, and he relished being alive, more so than usual.

However, he came to a table at which sat what appeared to the small adventuring hopper to be the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. It may have been the golden sunlight, or the way her glasses reflected her smiling eyes, or the orange-sun glow of her brown hair. It may have been any one of these things. It did not matter a gnat knee. He had no words. He was a man (relatively speaking) of words. He chewed and tasted them like the finest tomato vine. He wanted to sing to her, but his mouth would not make words, and certainly not music. He gaped. The grasshopper, whose name was Reginald, proceeded toward the girl's table with shy curiosity.

He decided that the best thing to do was to broach the issue of an introduction, so that he did not have the opportunity to falter. Being a much smaller species, Reginald bounded up the back of the girl's chair, and reaching the top, cleared his throat. The girl did not move.

She was reading what would be her favorite book. Reginald cleared his throat again, and bowed. The girl did not even blink. In her book, the protagonist was hanging by two fingers from a ledge outside of his beloved's prison. She heard nothing.

Reginald, whose resolve was fading, did something desperate. He, with his heart brimming, jumped, and landed on the girl's glasses. The girl then did what a great many free-thinking and rational girls would do under the circumstances. She screamed. The blast from the scream wrinkled Reginald's face skin, the decibles issuing from her perfect mouth wrapped around his every organ and shook his insides mercilessly. He had not thought this far ahead. Reginald remained calm. The girl, seeing that he was not trying to chew upon her face, began to relax her defensive posture.

Reginald stared. The girl stared. They both stared in order to ascertain the intentions of the other. Reginald discovered more from his staring, since the girl's face was considerably larger, and thus easier to read. The girl found that the green grasshopper was curious and friendly.

"Would you like some coffee?" the girl offered. She had taken manners classes, and knew that eating or drinking something with a new friend was a good way to solidify the connection - plus it was pleasant to share food and drink on a sunny day.

Reginald nodded. He did not care for coffee. But she was beautiful, and he thought his coffee indifference an unimportant detail at the time. He sat on the table across from her, his green legs folded.

to be continued...