Prunella's Visit

Grace Tenderstitch slept in a brass bed. The mattress was too hard and needed to be replaced, and that was her thought for the 1000 time before she lay down to sleep that very late night. Around her was a stack of books, in various shapes and in a state of disarray, almost like a defensive wall against harm. The books rose up at precarious angles on her nightstand, threatening to spill over and take the lamp with them to the floor. They were somewhat dusty, a commentary on what Grace thought about housekeeping and where her personal space fell on the list of priorities. She didn't like that she was low on the list, and occasionally struggled to change it without much success.

Murray slept on the floor next to her. He had a bed of his own which he had abandoned to Swain the Cat. He preferred the floor next to Grace.

And this is where they all were, in there places softly snoring, when Ernie the weasel woke Murray with the News.

This next part of the story is difficult and complicated for me to write about. I guess its just best to tell the truth without much of a slant in any one's favor.

Murray felt that his job in life was to protect and guide Grace Tenderstitch. He knew that she needed to sleep and wanted her to not be disturbed with any more drama and what he considered to be unnecessary interruptions. For this reason, he growled softly at Ernie's News. It was like swearing in dog language. I won't translate, but you can use your imagination.

"I am not going to wake her," he hissed to Ernie.

"I think you should," insisted Ernie, "otherwise what am I to do with her?" I am not sure that Grace would even want her to bed down on the couch...she has an abundant odor...an I know odor..." this he added lamely, nodding his head.

Murray paused for a second and wondered how to deal with the situation. He had thoughts of running the Fig-Pink woman off, and swearing everyone to secrecy. Something told him that Grace would not approve of this behavior, or appreciate it.

He got up from his spot and stretched. His joints ached. He was not a young dog anymore. He took his giant black nose and rooted it into the armpit of Grace Tenderstitch, flipping her arm a little in the air. Waking her. "Whaaaat?" said Grace in an irritable voice. She sat up and laid her hand on Murray's soft woolly head.

"Grace, "said Murray, "Prunella Fig-Pink has come to us. The pie-rats have taken her home. She is here for help...and..." Murray couldn't think of what to say after this, he just didn't know how to finish.

Grace sighed. She lifted herself up and felt around for her robe which was cast over the top of a bookcase. As an after thought she switched on the light. Found her slippers.

"Come on," she said to Murray and to Ernie the Weasel.

In the living room of the Baggaraggs, a light glowed from a lamp that cast a shadow over the hunched form Of Prunella Fig-Pink. She was cold and despite her coat, shivered as she waited for Grace to get up. She argued with herself inside her head, and managed to quell the thought that she should just leave, and go home.

Grace stood in the doorway and watched Prunella for a moment before she spoke. She wanted to recoil in horror at the sight, but stood her ground. "What a night," she thought to herself. Out loud she said hestitantly, "Prunella?"

Prunella Fig-Pink looked up and in a pressured voice said "Grace why didn't you come to my Party?"

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The Rag Ocean, where the Kelp Beds are daisy Chains...Irene has one draped across her lovely shell. Now on sale at Etsy.

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Prunella's Walk

Prunella Started into the Forest. Her breath came out in little fluffy clouds before her face, although the darkness of the night kept her from seeing much. She walked like someone who carries another life upon their shoulders, one that is heavier than their own. Her shoulders were rounded and hunched against the the cold, and braced to carry the burden that others could not see. Her footsteps were heavy, and inside her brain an argument raged that sometimes emitted fragments of verbalizations. Prunella was ambivalent at best about going to Grace for help. "why should I?" she blurted in anger. "The Rats," she answered herself. "She never came to my Party...she was my friend," she said in resignation. "I will not cry," she said, and answered herself: "after all this time, you should."
Whatever the argument that battled in her head, Prunella's feet knew the way to Grace Tenderstitch's home , even in the black night, even in a forest of naked trees armed with daggers of ice upon their limbs. Sometimes feet are the best deciders, and have the very best judgement when all else fails.
Meanwhile at the Baggaraggs, the residents were trying hard to settle. There was a restlessness that did not result in any kind of Peaceful sleep, and tension hung in the air, with apprehension holding its hand. The creatures of the Baggaraggs dozed but their little bodies were still partially vigilant, trusting not the silence of the night. Ernie the Night Watch- weasel was fully awake at his post for a change, and heard the footsteps before he could see who approached. "Who is that? Who goes there? Who comes to the Baggaraggs?, " he challenged into the night.You can imagine his surprise when Prunella Fig-Pink materialized from the darkness.
"Its Prunella Fig-Pink...I was once a friend of Grace Tenderstitch...I need help," she said wearily. "The Pie-rats have taken my home," she added.
There are places to leave a burden like Prunella Fig-Pinks. Sometimes the bearer simply decides that life is too interesting to carry such a trouble with them, and leave their anger, and sadness in a place called Forgetting. There are some who seek to tell another when their hearts are troubled, and do so in love. The joining of thoughts like these are sometimes a magic for sadness, and the empathy that results is like a tangible balm, that evaporate the trouble. It is like the sunshine that clears the cloudy day. There are those whose coping muscle is weak, however. They are the Collectors of troubling thoughts. They are the storers of anger, misdeeds and outrage. They have their reasons for doing so, and would deny these angry collections if confronted with it. It is a choice, I suppose. Prunella had the unfortunate disposition of being a Collector. In seeking Grace's help, she had a chance of seeking healing in the magic balm of Love, and empathy.

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sEA hAG

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Prunella's decision

Prunella Fig-Pink paused before the bathroom mirror to once more check her appearance. She could feel her heart skipping a beat or two as she carefully arranged the remains of her party hat. There was an old wooden spool attached to the hat that acted as a tassel and hung at an angle, with little threads spinning out like tiny legs. She applied another coat of Black Lipstick, and smacked her lips. She Looked Great! They are almost here, she thought with great excitement.

The doorbell sounded. She rushed towards it, and jerked it open with a smile of anticipation. "So glad you could make it," she said nervously. "Please come in, come in, I am so glad that you are here."

Peg-leg the pirate motioned to Big Punzee to move the wagon through the entrance. As their eyes met Big Punzee shrugged her shoulders, as Peg-Leg lifted her eyebrows in surprise at their reception. Big Punzee looked around. The entrance hall to Prunella's home was papered in faded pink cabbage roses. There were some dark stains along the ceiling that had dripped down the wall in long jagged stalactites. There was an odor of mildew that permeated the air. Oh," said Prunella, "What have you got there? What have you brought to the party...is that for Me...for me," she repeated when no one answered. "Thank you so much for coming to my Birthday Party...I've been waiting for you," she gulped a little nervously. Peg-Legs thoughts raced ahead of Prunella. Her opportunist instincts were honed to a fine predatory edge. It was only a moment before she sized up the situation and had it turned to her advantage.

"We are honored to be your guests," said Peg, who waved her hands in encouragement for the other pirates to speak up...."Yes, thank you for inviting us," some chorused in. There was a crowd of cold and Hungry PIe-rats that were introduced to Prunella. As the names were given and pleasantries exchanged, Peg-leg had an opportunity to further scan the scene. She spied out the Dining Room with its cobweb of stretched and faded streamers, and eyed the Castle shaped cake that was in danger of crumbling into green dust upon the table.

"What's that smell? asked Big Punzee as she glanced around looking for the source of a most unpleasant smell.

"Is that my Present?" Prunella queried, impatiently waiting to be answered. She gestured towards the wagon with the Thread Pusher inside.

"Oh Yes," answered Peg, "We got you this here Thread Pusher as a birthday present...ain't that right Big Punzee?" Punzee eyed Peg with a look that seemed to say "What are you crazy?' and nodded her head.

"Well, thank you, Thank you...a most unusual present I would like to say. Prunella added.

"Well come into the dining room and we'll begin the festivities."

Looks amongst the rats were exchanged. They hesitantly followed her through to the middle part of the house where the party was set to go, many years ago.

Big Punzee realized that the smell was actually coming from Prunella herself.

The rats hopped up onto the table and looked about. It takes alot of something unsavory to put a rat off their food, but this offering set them back. Big Punzee stepped backward. She looked around the dining room sniffed the faded streamers, and the green castle cake that smelled of Raid. "Something bad is happening here," Punzee thought to herself.

Prunella hurried to the kitchen to find extra dishes for all of her guests, and to retrieve the beet juice for her empty punch bowl. She was very nervous and anxious to please, but something else was happening to Prunella that no one would have been able to predict. As she opened the refrigerator door, and saw the little light burning within, a thought came to her that she had tried not to think about for many years. Feelings of hurt and anger rose up in Prunella's throat. Why had no one come to her Party all those years ago? Why, oh why, had no one come? And now more importantly, Who were these rats that had arrived with a Thread-Pusher in a Wagon? Confusion entered into Prunella's brain and she wrestled with her thoughts to try to sort them out. It had been a long time since she had tried to, and her ability to wrestle was weak. "I will simply have my Birthday with these Rats, everything will be Fine." The denial attempted to re-assert itself. Gathering some of the jars of beet juice, she returned to the Dining room, with a smile plastered on her face. "Help yourselves to refreshments,"she said, waving a hand towards the platters of moldy cookies and cupcakes that she had carefully made so long ago. She watched the faces of the Pirates and realized then that there was a look of dismay on every face. No one was going to help themselves. Even Pie-rats will not eat a cupcake that is moldy and rotten. The Pie-rats looked at Peg-Leg for instruction...surely they would not be expected to eat this ghastly food.

Prunella watched, and then frowned. She remembered the extra plates that she had left in the kitchen and went to retrieve them, hurrying off.

Prunella's Mother had taught her that "THose who listen, never hear Good of themselves.' She tried not to listen to the whispers on the other side of the kitchen door, but she had been listening to her thoughts whisper to her for such a long time...and these were real Whispers. And so it was that Prunella Fig-Pink hovered at the kitchen door and heard the PIe-rats talking about her. The things they were whispering went something like this: "What is we doing in this CRazy Woman's house Peg? We can't eat this moldy food...I think she is a wack-job! She's got a squirrel loose in her attic! Let's get rid of her Peg! Then we can set up shop here. This place is OURs Now!"

Something happened to Prunella then that should have happened a long time ago. You can call it a crack in the wall of denial if you like, or maybe just a leak. Never the Less, Prunella understood that she was in danger from these Pie-Rats. They had not come here for a party. She did not know what they had come for...but it was not to have a piece of her Birthday Cake.

The whispering continued as Prunella, very quietly slipped her coat off the hook in the kitchen closet and wrapped herself in its warmth. She had made a decision that both frightened and exhilarated her. She hastily opened her kitchen door and stepped out into the winter night. She was going to ask Grace Tenderstitch for help.