From: li@Data-IO.COM (Phyllis Rostykus)
Subject: Re: 'Tis the Season to Hibernate?
Organization: Data I/O Corporation
Date: Fri, 16 Oct 1992 23:24:45 GMT


Phee smiles to watch StM's special treatment by the rest of the felines of
the Place.  It's wonderful to hear such a huge cat purring...  Liralen
walks by and the little girl looks up at Liralen.  She holds up her small
arms to get picked up, so Liralen does so, gently.  For a quick moment,
the little girl is held close and warm.  Then she disappears with a single
giggle.

Liralen sighs softly once, but then hears the music and the laughter of a
birthday celebration.  She walks closer and finds that it is Bear's
birthday.  Remembering the gifts that she got she blinks and wonders what
she can get a Bear that has so many people's love already.

For a long, long moment, she thinks; and then smiles.

She shrugs on her blue leather jacket, as dark blue as the sky half an
hour after sunset.  She walks out of the Place, back into the gravel
parking lot, and then out to the forest by the lake.  It is the Sammamish,
now, that she walks by, the alders all gold, the maples flame with reds,
browns, and oranges.  The air is brisk and plays with the dried leaves that
scatter in a cloud along the ground.  The lake's surface is ruffled and
rough grey, the wind and the waves sometimes kicking up scatterings of 
water.  The water is grey because the sky is grey, but Liralen doesn't seem
to notice as the sky starts to sprinkle water like the wind kicked water
from the lake.  It is only a bit of rain.

She walks for a while, and nears her own home.

Down a gravel driveway, so steep it's almost an excuse for not going to
work when it snows, and down towards a tiny, one-horse barn with ivy growing
up it side and the scent of hay in its loft.  She ducks into the barn for
a moment and comes out with a wicker basket, worn and pale with time and
age.  Then she walks on.  Past a bunch of wooden posts that look like tiny
telephone poles, with wire strung between then and a mass of now brown and
drying raspberry plants hanging from them.  And, on the left is a tree.

An apple tree.  

Gnarled and grey green of leaf, it is a fairly young tree, still, its trunk
only as big around as Liralen's waist.  It's branches pruned back harshly
each spring.  It is now covered with fruit.  The apples are gold with a
red blush, usually along the side or on the bottoms of them.  She pulls
down five of the apples, having to use two hands to handle them because
they are *huge*, and puts them in the basket.  Most of them have a few
pock marks from being nibbled at by birds and insects, and are dull with
their natural wax and the dust that's accumilated over the summer.

She looks around, and then picks up each apple and polishes it on her
t-shirt until the apple is bright and shiney, the gold and red showing
through as brightly as the colors of the trees that stand over her.
Liralen grins, and starts walking back towards the Place.

A black creature streaks at her from the driveway, and Fezzik slides to a
stop that slams him, bodily, into Liralen's legs.  It seems that she is
used to it, as she braces herself when impact seems inevitable and manages
to stay standing up.  The fuzzy black dog buries his head in her lap, and
so she just stands there and rubs his neck behind his ears for a while.
She grins down at the dog, and then walks back to the tree to find an
apple that is rather smaller than the others that she picked.  She
polishes it on her t-shirt like the others and takes a bite.  The crunch
gives her Fezzik's full attention.  Then, she climbs the hill of the
driveway with Fezzik beside her, his pennaent of a tail waving gently in
the air above his back.

The two enjoy the walk through the NorthWet Fall.  Fezzik occassionally
jumping at a leaf and ferociously growling as he tears the thing to
pieces; and in the middle of the process looking up at Liralen to see if
she's watching him.  She laughs at him and he opens a white toothed mouth
to yawn at her.  Each bite of the apple is crisp and always manages to
surprise her with it's tartness.  The flesh is pale gold green and dense
with juice.  She's always wondered what kind of cider these apples would
make, but they only get a grocery bag's worth of them each year, so they've
never found out.  They're too good for eating and baking.

They reach the lake, and Fezzik, of course, heads straight for the water.
He goes in and starts swimming, the only thing dry of him a single strip of
fur on his back, making him look like a long, skinny platform with a head
looking up on the end.  Liralen's John always says that it reminds him of a
submarine.  Liralen keeps going, and, eventually, Fezzik climbs out of the
lake, looking ridiculously skinny with his fur flattened to his huge frame.
His legs look way too skinny for the size of his still-dry head.  He shakes
and sents a spray of water six feet to either side, and the puts his head
down and runs after Liralen.

This time, when he plows into Liralen, it's from behind.  She flies
forward, and then tucks and rolls around the basket of apples, managing,
just barely, to save them.  "Fezzik!!" she yells and ends up sitting,
wrapped around the apples and laughing her head off as the wet dog starts
kissing her on the cheek in apology.  She pushes him away, so that she can
get up.  He takes the time for another good shake.  "Arrrggghhh!" she says
and Fezzik cocks his head at the funny sound.  She thumps him on his broad
head, and says, "You silly dog."  He takes it as a compliment and proudly
waves his now wetted down tail in the air.

She giggles and walks on. 

She stops for a moment by a blooming rose bush, uncharacteristic of the
time and the year, yet beautiful nonetheless; and breaths in the purfume
of its purple blooms and moves on.

Fezzik rolls in a pile of leaves, and gets up matted with the crunchy
things.  He shakes, and most of them fall off, with more of the water from
his black coat.  Then he bounds off after Liralen.

Eventually, she reaches the Place, and carefully pushes open the door.
Fezzik crowds close, and she says, "No.  I don't think folks want to deal
with a wet dog, right now.  Maybe later."  He looks at her, "You stay." she
says, and his tail droops a little for a second, but then Fezzik takes off,
back in the direction of the lake.  

Liralen grins and walks into the warmth of the bar.

She finds Bear and says, "Happy Birthday."  And then holds out the basket
with its apples, "These are for you."  Liralen smiles, "Along with my
little adventure getting them... I hope you enjoy your day and that you
have many birthdays to come that are fun."

----
Liralen Li
li@inigo.Data-IO.com
Newsgroups: alt.callahans