The magical tree was only the beginning. Elmer first took me through the green room. There was another door when we entered. That’s the door we went through. The next room was purple and it was very, very long. It was more of a cooridoor rather than a room. It was lined with doors all down the wall, the same mahogany color contrasting against the creamy white. It was so long I couldn’t see the end. It was quiet too. The only sounds were the steady pounding of Elmer’s hooves and my tiny dress shoes. I was holding my fingers in front of my legs, I was so nervous, but I didn’t care what I had to do to get home.
Ahead of me, Elmer’s rear end started to slow. I got up on the balls of my feet, trying to see above the Appaloosa ahead. My head was too close to the ground, no matter how high I treid to make myself, the horse Elmer was just too tall. Failing to look above him, ventured to look around, hoping to catch a glimpse of what made Elmer seem so cautious. I squinted and found a giant portcullis. That’s the door to the castle, I guessed.
I was right. Elmer stopped completely and looked behind. “Stay here.” The request sounded more like an order. Seeing how nervous I was, I didn’t dare disobey. He went into the closest wooden door. I waited. Minutes that seemed like hours later, Elmer came back. He was holding and orange scratchy wool blanket.
“Wrap this around you,” Elmer continued forward, doing something to the portcullis that seemed like he was biting it.
Daisy Ann's Tree of wonder, part two
I woke up and Jessie was missing. I could only think of “thank goodness” being that the whole tiger-thing was just a dream, even if the whole magical-tree-thing wasn’t. It was now that I realized I had been in the bed since I appeared in the crimson room. To this realization, I plopped down off the silky sheets and landed straight on the floor, which I had just figured out was a creamy yellow sort of concrete material.
The next thing I wanted to find out was first, hot to get out of the room, and second, how to get home. I walked over to a giant red swirl reaching to the ceiling and I started to run my hands over it, hoping to find some kind of trap door. To my great disappointment, there was nothing to be hound. I turned around to look at the bed once more but it was missing. The bed was gone, as suddenly as the tree in the meadow had appeared. In its place, there was a small red box about the same size of my foot. I walked over to it and picked it up. I opened it and found a small golden ring that I was sure would not fit on my finger I lifted out of the box and then the world went black.
I opened my eyes with one long yawn. That was the last time I would fall asleep in one day. With so many naps I’ve had today, I was starting to wonder which parts were dreams and which parts were real. Really, though, the whole day seemed to be one large dream. I was hoping and praying it was. How else would I be able to get home?
I looked around me and found that I was no longer in the crimson room. I was in a different one. The same swirly tile designs were on the walls: but these were green, and the floor was the same yellowish concrete. There were two things taht this room had that the other room didn’t: more area, and a door. Being still destined to get out, I decided that going through the mahogany door would be a good start. I was outside. There was a large garden with shrubs and multicolored roses. I walked carefully past each one; the sun was shining in my eyes. It was beautiful and bright. It wasn’t at all like the blizzard I had first found myself in.
I got to the end of the path and remembered how everything I had walked through once I looked back it was gone. I hurried and looked behind me at the door I had recently come through hoping I would be able to see the process of an object disappearing into thin air. Much to my disappointment, it was still there. But now, I could see the castle Jessie had been talking about. It was made of hard black stones that looked veil against the bright sun and the delicate roses. It was like something you’d have read in a fantasy book. I eased toward it slowly.
Something made me jump. I was shaking and panting when I turned around to find a horse standing in front of me. HE told me his name was Elmer. HE had a dark blackish-brown hide. His rear was made of creamy white and had a plaint-splatter design of reddish brown showing. He whinnied so loud I had to lift my hands up and cover my ears. He did not seem to notice how he had scared me. When he finished making that horrifying sound, his cracking voice came out to say, “And what might ya...oar name be young lady?” to this I responded, feeling more trust in Elmer than I did in Jessie.
“Daisy Ann”
“Can I call you Dai...see?”
“That’s what everyun at home calls me.”
“Al’ight then Daisy.” He was swinging his hind leg as if he felt an urge to move. I was about to start asking him all the questions on my mind when he did sort of a clickety-hop, sort of heel-click thing with his front hoofs making me jump a foot backward in surprise.
“Horses are strange, aren’t they,” I muttered under my breath, talking to myself as I often did. But to cover it up in case he heard me, I quickly began. “Excuse me Elmer,” I swallowed the saliva gathering in my throat. “Do you know how I might be able to get home”
“Well, Daisy, that really is something that I can’t tell you: seeing as that I don’t quite know where you came from.”
“The little country home by old Mr. Compton.”
“Daisy.... I am a slave in a castle of mystery, I don’t know where Mr. Compton lives.”
“You’re a slave?” I was more interested in his life story than acknowledging what he said. He simply just shook off the question. I sat down on a marble bench.
“C’mon Daisy,” Elmer said, moving forward to the black image of the castle showing the end of the garden. “I wanna show you something.”
I raised myself off the bench and carefully followed.
The next thing I wanted to find out was first, hot to get out of the room, and second, how to get home. I walked over to a giant red swirl reaching to the ceiling and I started to run my hands over it, hoping to find some kind of trap door. To my great disappointment, there was nothing to be hound. I turned around to look at the bed once more but it was missing. The bed was gone, as suddenly as the tree in the meadow had appeared. In its place, there was a small red box about the same size of my foot. I walked over to it and picked it up. I opened it and found a small golden ring that I was sure would not fit on my finger I lifted out of the box and then the world went black.
I opened my eyes with one long yawn. That was the last time I would fall asleep in one day. With so many naps I’ve had today, I was starting to wonder which parts were dreams and which parts were real. Really, though, the whole day seemed to be one large dream. I was hoping and praying it was. How else would I be able to get home?
I looked around me and found that I was no longer in the crimson room. I was in a different one. The same swirly tile designs were on the walls: but these were green, and the floor was the same yellowish concrete. There were two things taht this room had that the other room didn’t: more area, and a door. Being still destined to get out, I decided that going through the mahogany door would be a good start. I was outside. There was a large garden with shrubs and multicolored roses. I walked carefully past each one; the sun was shining in my eyes. It was beautiful and bright. It wasn’t at all like the blizzard I had first found myself in.
I got to the end of the path and remembered how everything I had walked through once I looked back it was gone. I hurried and looked behind me at the door I had recently come through hoping I would be able to see the process of an object disappearing into thin air. Much to my disappointment, it was still there. But now, I could see the castle Jessie had been talking about. It was made of hard black stones that looked veil against the bright sun and the delicate roses. It was like something you’d have read in a fantasy book. I eased toward it slowly.
Something made me jump. I was shaking and panting when I turned around to find a horse standing in front of me. HE told me his name was Elmer. HE had a dark blackish-brown hide. His rear was made of creamy white and had a plaint-splatter design of reddish brown showing. He whinnied so loud I had to lift my hands up and cover my ears. He did not seem to notice how he had scared me. When he finished making that horrifying sound, his cracking voice came out to say, “And what might ya...oar name be young lady?” to this I responded, feeling more trust in Elmer than I did in Jessie.
“Daisy Ann”
“Can I call you Dai...see?”
“That’s what everyun at home calls me.”
“Al’ight then Daisy.” He was swinging his hind leg as if he felt an urge to move. I was about to start asking him all the questions on my mind when he did sort of a clickety-hop, sort of heel-click thing with his front hoofs making me jump a foot backward in surprise.
“Horses are strange, aren’t they,” I muttered under my breath, talking to myself as I often did. But to cover it up in case he heard me, I quickly began. “Excuse me Elmer,” I swallowed the saliva gathering in my throat. “Do you know how I might be able to get home”
“Well, Daisy, that really is something that I can’t tell you: seeing as that I don’t quite know where you came from.”
“The little country home by old Mr. Compton.”
“Daisy.... I am a slave in a castle of mystery, I don’t know where Mr. Compton lives.”
“You’re a slave?” I was more interested in his life story than acknowledging what he said. He simply just shook off the question. I sat down on a marble bench.
“C’mon Daisy,” Elmer said, moving forward to the black image of the castle showing the end of the garden. “I wanna show you something.”
I raised myself off the bench and carefully followed.
Daisy Ann's Tree of wonder, part one
I stared behind the freezing snow at the strange shape in front of me. The sky was dark, the stars blending in with the snow. The wind was blowing; the cold air was burning the skin on my arms. Looking at the figure ahead, I trudged through the hard white snow. I looked around, searching for the source of whence I came. There was nothing around me but snow and sky for miles. I had been traveling for hours, y eyes were drifting shut. One step, two step, three step, it was gone. The snow, the figure, the sky, everything was gone. Only blackness remained
When I woke, I was in a silk bed, the comfort of the glossy gold pillows closing in on me. The walls were full of tiles making crimson and pearly white decorative swirls lining my view. The ceiling was pure blood crimson, so rich it stung my eyes. The overwhelming softness took over and just as soon as my eyelids closed, I heard them. Footsteps. The ominous pounding was even and steady. My eyes flashed open, looking for the creator.
That’s when I realized I was some place new; that I was no longer in the blizzard. With surprise, I propped myself up with the heels of my hands and found myself panting frantically. The footsteps continued at their steady pace: almost like dripping water. I panicked. Where was I? My panting continued; my forehead filling with sweat. The world seemed to spin; the crimson surrounding me swirling in my head. The quiet steps got louder and louder as they neared the room of which I was being held. The pounding in my head made the steps sound like stamping elephants. Just when the feet reached what seemed to be just outside (although there was not a door in sight) the steady beat of feet on a hard floor went silent.
I half expected the person, whoever it was, to walk through the wall after everything that’s happened today. I waited. There was no audible sound. Minutes passed. Then hours. I was sliding in the silk. My eyes were drifting shut once more. I awoke, but my eyes seemed to be held together by a thick sticky glue. Before I could open my eyes, I heard a sharp, high-pitched shrieking sound. The ferocity of the piercing sound seemed to release the binding glue holding my eyelids together. As if on cue, I screamed.
Standing before me was a white and black striped Bengal tiger. There was nothing I could do but scream. I couldn’t hide, I couldn’t run. I couldn’t do anything but scream and cry. The image of the furry animal in front of me started to blur behind the tears swelling in my eyes. My screams gradually got softer and softer due to the stinging in my throat. When the screams ceased altogether, I heard a soft voice whisper close to my ear to be quiet. Startled, I looked around.
The tiger approached again and looked me straight in the eye. “Sweetie, don’t cry,” it gestured in a gentle raspy voice that reminded me somewhat of what you’d expect a lamb would sound like. As I thought of this irony, I didn’t notice that the fierce but gentle cat had its paw resting on my shoulder, the other one carefully petting my back. What was going on?
Its eyes were a magnificent ice blue. I looked deeply into them at the pure cold feeling that came with them. I was so entranced that I soon found my hand resting on the back of the large creature. I felt its glossy for, the velvety smooth surface. I gulped. I was standing face to face with a tiger twice my size. If it wanted to, it could kill me at any moment. This is where I started panting again. It heard my pains, almost as if it could read my mind. It took its paw off my shoulder and stood. It walked over to the other side of the gold silk and sat on the pillow closest to the wall.
“Now dear,” it started. “Tell me why you’re scared. Tell me where you’ve been today and tell me how you got here.” I thought at this beast’s simple request. I had barely even took the time to think about it for a minute since I’ve been here. I was questioning the trust of the tiger. Why did it want to know? Again, by some mystic power, it seemed as if the cat knew what I was thinking. “Now my dear, don’t be scared. I want to get to know you.” it still saw the questions in my face so it continued, “Please dear, I’m not to be feared. Let me introduce myself. My name is Jessie. I’ve lived in this castle for all eternity. I always have and I always will.” This was a start: at least I knew I was in a castle. I just wanted to know how to get out.
With a large here-it-goes gasp, I began. “Where did I come from?” Jessie’s response never came. The question was true and more to myself that to Jessie. After so many strange things happening, I was actually starting to wonder where exactly6 I did come from. “Right. It was earlier this morning. I was playing hide-and-seek with my elder sister Clara. I was searching for her when I heard a rustle form behind the bushes. I looked carefully behind it when I realized there was nothing but a family of quails. I looked back at the meadow and our old little cozy country home. I found a tree. Not just any old tree, the tree. The tree that wasn’t there when I looked behind the bushes. It was very large and bulky. I walked past it with caution: questioning the power strong enough to make an item appear out of thin air.”
While I was telling my story, Jessie the tiger sat quietly nodding her head. There seemed to be a faint smile on her face: half mocking and half mischievous. With a questioning glance, I continued on. “Just when I looked up, I saw behind a tree yonder the silky brown hair of my sister Clara. I tried to run straight to her and claim my glory of hide-and-seek champion when I tripped on the roots of that awfully large and mysterious tree. Down I plummeted face first into the dirt. I pulled myself up and found a small hole in the curious tree. I stuck my fingers in it and started to pull. It seemed to be the opening of a small door that would only fit my head. I looked inside and found a powerful blizzard. With all intention to pull my head out, run to Clara and tell her I found a snow storm in a tree, I pulled my head out. There was only one problem. There was no tree to pull my head out of. I was in the blizzard. My pale pink dress was all I had, no winter coat, no warm stockings.
The tiger was still nodding, its freezing blue eyes and cream white coat reflecting my experience in the snow. When she finally stopped the careful up and down motion of her furry head, I expected her to say something. She never opened her mouth. I thought this was because she maybe hadn’t known I’d finished my story. “And, now I’m here,” I stated, showing her I was done.
To this she replied, “I know.” there were another few seconds of awkward silence. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she started so suddenly it made me jump,. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” Those words echoed in my head. I promise, I promised. Did she really promise? Did she really want to help me? These questions remained in my thoughts. Could I really trust the beast I saw in front of me?
When I woke, I was in a silk bed, the comfort of the glossy gold pillows closing in on me. The walls were full of tiles making crimson and pearly white decorative swirls lining my view. The ceiling was pure blood crimson, so rich it stung my eyes. The overwhelming softness took over and just as soon as my eyelids closed, I heard them. Footsteps. The ominous pounding was even and steady. My eyes flashed open, looking for the creator.
That’s when I realized I was some place new; that I was no longer in the blizzard. With surprise, I propped myself up with the heels of my hands and found myself panting frantically. The footsteps continued at their steady pace: almost like dripping water. I panicked. Where was I? My panting continued; my forehead filling with sweat. The world seemed to spin; the crimson surrounding me swirling in my head. The quiet steps got louder and louder as they neared the room of which I was being held. The pounding in my head made the steps sound like stamping elephants. Just when the feet reached what seemed to be just outside (although there was not a door in sight) the steady beat of feet on a hard floor went silent.
I half expected the person, whoever it was, to walk through the wall after everything that’s happened today. I waited. There was no audible sound. Minutes passed. Then hours. I was sliding in the silk. My eyes were drifting shut once more. I awoke, but my eyes seemed to be held together by a thick sticky glue. Before I could open my eyes, I heard a sharp, high-pitched shrieking sound. The ferocity of the piercing sound seemed to release the binding glue holding my eyelids together. As if on cue, I screamed.
Standing before me was a white and black striped Bengal tiger. There was nothing I could do but scream. I couldn’t hide, I couldn’t run. I couldn’t do anything but scream and cry. The image of the furry animal in front of me started to blur behind the tears swelling in my eyes. My screams gradually got softer and softer due to the stinging in my throat. When the screams ceased altogether, I heard a soft voice whisper close to my ear to be quiet. Startled, I looked around.
The tiger approached again and looked me straight in the eye. “Sweetie, don’t cry,” it gestured in a gentle raspy voice that reminded me somewhat of what you’d expect a lamb would sound like. As I thought of this irony, I didn’t notice that the fierce but gentle cat had its paw resting on my shoulder, the other one carefully petting my back. What was going on?
Its eyes were a magnificent ice blue. I looked deeply into them at the pure cold feeling that came with them. I was so entranced that I soon found my hand resting on the back of the large creature. I felt its glossy for, the velvety smooth surface. I gulped. I was standing face to face with a tiger twice my size. If it wanted to, it could kill me at any moment. This is where I started panting again. It heard my pains, almost as if it could read my mind. It took its paw off my shoulder and stood. It walked over to the other side of the gold silk and sat on the pillow closest to the wall.
“Now dear,” it started. “Tell me why you’re scared. Tell me where you’ve been today and tell me how you got here.” I thought at this beast’s simple request. I had barely even took the time to think about it for a minute since I’ve been here. I was questioning the trust of the tiger. Why did it want to know? Again, by some mystic power, it seemed as if the cat knew what I was thinking. “Now my dear, don’t be scared. I want to get to know you.” it still saw the questions in my face so it continued, “Please dear, I’m not to be feared. Let me introduce myself. My name is Jessie. I’ve lived in this castle for all eternity. I always have and I always will.” This was a start: at least I knew I was in a castle. I just wanted to know how to get out.
With a large here-it-goes gasp, I began. “Where did I come from?” Jessie’s response never came. The question was true and more to myself that to Jessie. After so many strange things happening, I was actually starting to wonder where exactly6 I did come from. “Right. It was earlier this morning. I was playing hide-and-seek with my elder sister Clara. I was searching for her when I heard a rustle form behind the bushes. I looked carefully behind it when I realized there was nothing but a family of quails. I looked back at the meadow and our old little cozy country home. I found a tree. Not just any old tree, the tree. The tree that wasn’t there when I looked behind the bushes. It was very large and bulky. I walked past it with caution: questioning the power strong enough to make an item appear out of thin air.”
While I was telling my story, Jessie the tiger sat quietly nodding her head. There seemed to be a faint smile on her face: half mocking and half mischievous. With a questioning glance, I continued on. “Just when I looked up, I saw behind a tree yonder the silky brown hair of my sister Clara. I tried to run straight to her and claim my glory of hide-and-seek champion when I tripped on the roots of that awfully large and mysterious tree. Down I plummeted face first into the dirt. I pulled myself up and found a small hole in the curious tree. I stuck my fingers in it and started to pull. It seemed to be the opening of a small door that would only fit my head. I looked inside and found a powerful blizzard. With all intention to pull my head out, run to Clara and tell her I found a snow storm in a tree, I pulled my head out. There was only one problem. There was no tree to pull my head out of. I was in the blizzard. My pale pink dress was all I had, no winter coat, no warm stockings.
The tiger was still nodding, its freezing blue eyes and cream white coat reflecting my experience in the snow. When she finally stopped the careful up and down motion of her furry head, I expected her to say something. She never opened her mouth. I thought this was because she maybe hadn’t known I’d finished my story. “And, now I’m here,” I stated, showing her I was done.
To this she replied, “I know.” there were another few seconds of awkward silence. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she started so suddenly it made me jump,. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” Those words echoed in my head. I promise, I promised. Did she really promise? Did she really want to help me? These questions remained in my thoughts. Could I really trust the beast I saw in front of me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
