Tell Me A Story

"Mommy, tell me a story." Most of my evenings ended this way, with Jessica begging for a bedtime story and Timothy nodding his tiny head in agreement. "What kind of story do you want tonight, squirts?" They always wanted a scary story; my children teethed on ghosts, goblins and various boogeymen. They slept like logs so I didn't worry too much about how this was affecting their psyche.

The tale always started the same and the children liked to say the first part with me. "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away ," they chanted with me.

I paused for effect, making them squirm and wiggle in anticipation before I continued the story.

...lived a gnarled, old warlock. He lived in a hut on the edge of the woods. The hut used to be in the middle of the woods but as the town grew, the forest shrank. The villagers knew the warlock lived in the woods and so they forbade their children to play there.

Like all children, Jessica and Timothy were curious about everything, especially things their parents forbade. One day, while taking a walk, they came to the edge of the forest. Timothy had his baseball with him as always and was pretending to be a major league pitcher.

"It's fourth and nine, and the bases are loaded," he said in his best announcer's voice.

He wound up for the pitch and let it rip as hard as he could. The force of the pitch knocked him over right onto his butt and he tumbled into a tree. Jessica laughed merrily and went to help her brother up. Grumpy, as most little boys are when embarrassed, he brushed her hand away and pushed himself off the ground. Jessica rolled her eyes and turned away to save him further embarrassment. Singing quietly to herself, she put out her arms and began spinning in circles. Faster and faster, she spun until she fell into a carpet of wildflowers. Timothy, still sore from falling on his rump, yelled at her to be quiet, she was ruining his concentration.

Nonplussed, Jessica responded with, "If you can't take the heat, give it to someone else. I mean really Timothy, it's not as if the crowd would be quiet in a real game so you better get used to noise while you pitch." Turning her nose up, she began singing again, this time at the top of her voice just to make a point.

Timothy, grumpier than ever, wound up for the pitch and threw the ball as hard as he could at his sister. Being better at winding up than actually pitching, the ball bounced twice before it got near Jessica and then hit her on the leg. It didn't really hurt, but tired of Timothy acting like a brat, Jessica turned on the waterworks and yelled, "All I wanted to do was sing... is that too much to ask?"

Timothy immediately regretted throwing the ball and went to make sure his sister was all right. "Sorry Jess," he mumbled, with his head down. Jessica, intent on something else, didn't respond. Grabbing the ball and stomping away, Timothy yelled, "Be that way, then! I didn't really mean it anyways, I just didn't want you to tell Mom and Dad." Realizing Timothy was talking, Jessica turned around in time to see him stomping away.

Jessica ran after him. She had heard a noise coming from the woods and wanted him to explore with her. Timothy, still pouting, stuck out his tongue and kept walking until he heard leaves crunching behind him. He spun around just in time to see Jessica enter the woods. Not wanting to miss the adventure, he ran as fast as he could to catch up. Entering the forest, the darkness crept upon him like roaches in an all-night diner. His eyes shifted nervously from right to left scanning the darkness for Jessica.

Seeing a dark shape up ahead, he crept quietly toward it, hoping it was his sister and not a monster. As he got closer to the shape, he could hear someone whispering, but when he got to the clearing, he was alone. Looking around, he wondered aloud, "Was that the wind?" Not expecting an answer, he jumped when his sister responded from behind him, "No silly, it's a kitten in that tree. I'm going to climb up and get it.You stay here."

He watched as she shimmied up the tree one branch at a time. When she reached the kitten, she put her arm out, calling to him, but he jumped to a higher branch. Sighing, she climbed up a little more and tried again. This time the kitten didn't have a branch close so he swiped at her arm with his claws. She rocked back, barely catching the branch in time to stop her fall. Timothy watched this from below praying she wouldn't hurt herself. Deciding to give it one last try, she lunged for the cat. Grabbing him before he had a chance to react, she climbed back down the tree.

"Do you think he has a home?" she asked, hoping all the while that Timothy would say no and they could take the kitten home with them. Her hopes plummeted when he pointed out that the kitten had a collar so he probably had an owner. Looking around, Jessica noticed a small cottage to their left. Pointing it out to Timothy, she headed for the cottage. Timothy followed close behind not wanting to be alone in the woods again.

Worn down, the house looked a little spooky but Jessica bravely knocked on the door. They could hear shuffling behind the door and then a little man poked his head out. "What do you want? You are on private property, leave at once," he grumbled.

Jessica, smile quivering, held out the kitten and said, "We just wanted to return your kitten, it was stuck up a tree and we rescued it."

Eyebrows furrowed, the man responded, "That thing is not mine. I hate cats. My girlfriend had seven of them."

Struggling not to show their surprise that the wrinkled old man had a girlfriend, Jessica and Timothy thanked him and turned around to leave. "Wait a minute," he yelled running back into the hut. Timothy didn't want to stay, but Jessica was curious so they waited while the man threw things around in the house and shuffled back to the door. He threw something at Timothy who ducked and threw his arms over his head. Something hit his hand and he looked up to see the old man scowling at him. "What are you hiding for boy, are you a little girl? Pick it up." Mortified at being called a girl, Timothy bent over grabbed the can and replied in a quiet voice, "Well, you didn't have to smack my hand with that tuna, mister."

"It's for the cat. Take it home with you."

Jessica and Timothy thanked him and headed for home, Timothy throwing his ball into the air and catching it all the way. Their parents let them keep the cat and didn't even ask them where they found it. Timothy and Jessica decided not to feed the cat the tuna since the expiration date was marked as the summer of 1950. They threw it out in the barn where it rolled into the hay next to the cow's pen. The children went to bed that night dreaming of kittens and cottages belonging to little wrinkled old men and the cow began eating the tuna. The end until tomorrow.

"That was a nice story Mommy," Jessica managed to say before succumbing to a yawn. Timothy was sleeping with his head on his chest. I tucked Jessica under the covers and gave her a kiss goodnight before carrying Timothy to his bed. While tucking him into his bed, Timothy managed to rouse himself enough to murmur, "But where does the striped cow come into play?"

Smiling to myself, I kissed him on the head and told him to go to sleep, I would tell the story about the striped cow and the kitten tomorrow.