There were two trucks pulled into the front of the garage. A large golden dog sat next to Kaitlin. Polly was always with Kaitlin. The truck next to Olympia was really a panel truck, faded gray with red lettering. It was familiar, but the details of who it belonged to would not come until the man climbed from behind the wheel. His side-winding gait leaned him at a forty-five degree angle. His broad smile reached through the window at her. Jacob. He'd forgotten something, signaled with his pointing finger and reached for a carrier of dark amber glass bottles, and then continued toward the house.
Kaitlin pulled the emergency brake taunt, and climbed down. She checked the brake a second time just to be reassured. "We've been to the water's edge. Polly wouldn't let Jacob go, but of course, she wouldn't leave my side. So ... Jacob brought himself." That wasn't entirely true Jacob was not completely alone. The slight ripple of Being collected on the space outside his van. Rabbit had come as well, and for the next little while the tea ceremony was to include parts of a story that was thought complete but isn't. Jacob the Surveyor and Rabbit the Watchful had something to offer and even I, the storyteller couldn't have known. Till now.
So often people who say they know a lot about books, and stories will say the most unkind things about a simple tale. I was there just the other day. Flipping through the wobbly reality of the cybernetic library, I was on the sniff. There was a story I longed for, and my local library would not allow me access. In fact, their search engine did not recognize the title. Should have been a clue to how favorites become such. But it made no never mind. I found something about the story, and came to the doorstep of this idea: Anthropomorphism, giving life to inanimate objects. The book expert, the reviewer, was addled by the annoying habit of an author who was giving life to wine bottles. The very thing that had endeared me to the story was an annoyance to an expert. Just so you know I am partial to anthropomorphism and in practice it's what I love most about this brand of storytelling.
"Never arrive empty-handed!" Jacob said shyly. "Kaitlin said you'd be pouring tea. Hope you don't mind. Not much of a tea-drinker, but I've not seen you all summer. Freshly tapped."
"Come in. There's room for a mixed treat of brews. My Gran would be proud of me for taking the broad view of things, and if Aunt May decides to show up ... well. You know she'd approve of some of your beer." Larkin shook her head, hugged the leaning man and rolled her eyes at her friend who was smothering a laugh with little success.
The table was laid with a proper 5 o'clock tea. China tea cups and saucers. A platter of still-warm almond cookies, and plates waiting for the grilled cheese sandwiches still sizzling on the not griddle. A combination of thinly sliced old cheddar and Swiss melted on the olive oil and butter-smeared homemade white. A small clear jug of half-and-half. Lumps of sugar cubes. And the oddly quirky second jug of golden liquid that was Larkin's personal sweetener of choice. Maple syrup.
"I brought along a packet of my own personal tea-time favorite. Salmon Candy. Goes well with beer, and who could tell? Maybe your tea will enjoy a little brown-sugar and salt brine on Brother Salmon." Jacob had never been to Calypso's cottage. He still called it that, though Calypso had not lived in it for a half dozen years now. That, the time, he was sure of and as he sniffed the air in the cottage he was reminded of the approaching Winter's Solstice. By one calendar this was December 1st. Normally, it was Calypso would come for a Solstice drink at the Muli Wai.
"Here's a bowl for the Salmon Candy. Smells great!" Polly willed a piece from the package, waited for it to hit the smooth worn floor and snapped it up with appreciation. Rabbit spoke clearly into the Retriever's ear. "No more than two!"
Kaitlin pulled the emergency brake taunt, and climbed down. She checked the brake a second time just to be reassured. "We've been to the water's edge. Polly wouldn't let Jacob go, but of course, she wouldn't leave my side. So ... Jacob brought himself." That wasn't entirely true Jacob was not completely alone. The slight ripple of Being collected on the space outside his van. Rabbit had come as well, and for the next little while the tea ceremony was to include parts of a story that was thought complete but isn't. Jacob the Surveyor and Rabbit the Watchful had something to offer and even I, the storyteller couldn't have known. Till now.
So often people who say they know a lot about books, and stories will say the most unkind things about a simple tale. I was there just the other day. Flipping through the wobbly reality of the cybernetic library, I was on the sniff. There was a story I longed for, and my local library would not allow me access. In fact, their search engine did not recognize the title. Should have been a clue to how favorites become such. But it made no never mind. I found something about the story, and came to the doorstep of this idea: Anthropomorphism, giving life to inanimate objects. The book expert, the reviewer, was addled by the annoying habit of an author who was giving life to wine bottles. The very thing that had endeared me to the story was an annoyance to an expert. Just so you know I am partial to anthropomorphism and in practice it's what I love most about this brand of storytelling.
"Never arrive empty-handed!" Jacob said shyly. "Kaitlin said you'd be pouring tea. Hope you don't mind. Not much of a tea-drinker, but I've not seen you all summer. Freshly tapped."
"Come in. There's room for a mixed treat of brews. My Gran would be proud of me for taking the broad view of things, and if Aunt May decides to show up ... well. You know she'd approve of some of your beer." Larkin shook her head, hugged the leaning man and rolled her eyes at her friend who was smothering a laugh with little success.
The table was laid with a proper 5 o'clock tea. China tea cups and saucers. A platter of still-warm almond cookies, and plates waiting for the grilled cheese sandwiches still sizzling on the not griddle. A combination of thinly sliced old cheddar and Swiss melted on the olive oil and butter-smeared homemade white. A small clear jug of half-and-half. Lumps of sugar cubes. And the oddly quirky second jug of golden liquid that was Larkin's personal sweetener of choice. Maple syrup.
"I brought along a packet of my own personal tea-time favorite. Salmon Candy. Goes well with beer, and who could tell? Maybe your tea will enjoy a little brown-sugar and salt brine on Brother Salmon." Jacob had never been to Calypso's cottage. He still called it that, though Calypso had not lived in it for a half dozen years now. That, the time, he was sure of and as he sniffed the air in the cottage he was reminded of the approaching Winter's Solstice. By one calendar this was December 1st. Normally, it was Calypso would come for a Solstice drink at the Muli Wai.
"Here's a bowl for the Salmon Candy. Smells great!" Polly willed a piece from the package, waited for it to hit the smooth worn floor and snapped it up with appreciation. Rabbit spoke clearly into the Retriever's ear. "No more than two!"
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