00:06:00
Ouchies! Ouchies! Ouchies! I got an ouchie!
I don’t know what happened. I was sleeping and then suddenly I got an ouchie! Now Aunty Gina is holding me and crying and saying she’s sorry. Did Aunty Gina give me an ouchie? WHY? Have I been bad?
I’m sorry Aunty. I hurt too much. Head thump thump thumps. I sleep now.
----------------------------------------
00:07:00
I’m awake again, but I don’t know where I am.
There’s a strange person looking over me. She has a happy-sad-wrinkle face. My ouchie is gone now though! Did wrinkle-woman fix me? She’s got pretty eyes.
She’s talking to someone, but I don’t know who. “It’s OK, dearie.”
Is that me she’s talking to? Is “dearie” another name I’ve got now? I seem to have many! I’m confused.
Wrinkle-woman is still talking, “You didn’t mean to drop the little precious. He’ll be just fine now. You just need to calm down a bit yourself, and then you can take him again. He’s fine.”
I’m little precious -- I know that name! That’s me! That means dearie must be someone else – probably Aunty Gina. She must have dropped me when we were rocking! “Gakka Blakka Kkkaa!” I tried to tell her that I was OK and that I forgave her, but I still can’t make this mouth work like I want. It’s so frustrating now being able to fix this broken body; I’d curse me, if me wasn’t I!
I hear Aunty Gina say, “I can’t. I hurt him!”, and then the sound of crying comes loud. It’s OK Aunty! I don’t know why you dropped me, but I forgive you! Odie is tough! A dropping won’t make me not like you.
Wrinkle-woman moves away from me and is now making soothing sounds elsewhere. I wiggle and kick to look around, but I seem to be in a hole filled with clothes. I’ve seen this at Aunties! I’m stuck in a close basket, and I can’t see out. I don’t know what’s going on, but Aunty is sad. I don’t like it.
I want to fix it, but I don’t know what to fix!
----------------------------------------
00:08:00
Wrinkle-woman is back and she’s holding me now. I can see around some now, and it appears that I’m in a small bedroom. Aunty Gina is laying on a tiny bed that barely seems big enough for one person –- an Uncle couldn’t feed her on it!
The old woman has my cup and is giving it to me with something not-milk in it. I don’t know what this not-milk is, but it looks almost like the water I make from the teet between my legs. Wrinkle-woman is starting to sing a song I’ve never heard before. She’s got a pretty voice. I like her. I must remember this song.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Little rabbit dancing in the sky,
How can you fly so high?
You’re not a bird, no wings can I see,
Oh, Little rabbit, what can you be?
Little rabbit dancing in the sky,
How can you fly so high?
Little rabbit, Little rabbit, are you crying on me?
How can you be so sad, when you’re so free?
Little rabbit, little rabbit, what’s that you say?
The cold north wind is going to blow you away!
Little rabbit dancing in the sky,
Please don’t scatter and go bye-bye.
Little rabbit. Little rabbit. Now he’s gone.
But where he was there’s now a dog with a bone!
As she finished up her song, Wrinkle-woman laughed and cackled wildly, and waved me around like a leaf in the wind. It was fun! She was happy! I liked it a lot!
“And little one, do you know what that song was about?” Wrinkle-woman asked me.
“Bibbta Spippt Plpprrr!” I told her with confidence. It was a song about a sky rabbit and the mean north wind. When I find that north wind, I’ll fix it for making the little rabbit scatter and run away!
“It’s about the clouds,” Wrinkle-woman told me, not even paying the least attention to what I’d said. Taking my cuppy away from me – it was empty now anyway, so I didn’t mind -- she sat it down on a dresser and we walked outside. What I thought was a bedroom must’ve been Wrinkle-woman’s whole house, because all we had to do is go out the one doorway and we were outside!
Slowly going over to a rocking chair, Wrinkle-woman sat down in it and pointed up at the sky. It was a pretty blue once again, just like it had been ever since I fixed it when it was crying.
After a while, a small white streak moved across the sky, and Wrinkle-woman pointed to it. “That, Odie, is what we call a cloud. Normally they carry rain, but we haven’t had any for a long time around here. If this keeps up much longer, people are going to have a terrible time come this winter. There’s not going to be enough hay or harvest to feed everyone.”
That’s sad! “Pbbitty Bbrtt Ptttpth!” Wrinkle-woman seemed smart, so I asked her; why isn’t the cloud carrying rain anymore? Did someone steal it? Did it lose it?
She didn’t answer me, and instead we sat and simply rocked back and forth for a while.
What is this rain? Why doesn’t the cloud have it? Why can’t I fix it?
“Dibbit Bliiitt Pooof!” I kept trying to ask Wrinkle-woman, but it didn’t do me any good. She was already asleep and snoring, while we rocked back and forth gently.
Poor Wrinkle-woman -- so tired. I might not know how to fix the rain-thing that the cloud doesn't have, but I can fix her at least!