Remember

Everybody Needs Friends

Even though it had been less than a week since I had started coming outside, my face had begun to look a lot healthier. My cheeks even became flushed with pink. I made my way to the place where I'd first met Cheshire. I looked around for him, but I didn't see him. My heart dropped. It was a bit too much to hope for that he'd be in the same exact spot. Luck was not usually on my side. I suppose it should have come as no surprise.

I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I bent down to get a closer look. In the midst of the weeds was a small budding flower that was struggling to grow; it was too small for me to distinguish what kind of flower it was. My eyes began to water as I realized I knew exactly what this flower was going through. I carefully pulled away the weeds around it and dug the flower out. Cradling it as carefully as I could, I brought it into the storage room to pick up a container and a small hand shovel. After filling the container with soil from the garden, I brought the whole thing to my room. With my fingers, I dug a small hole in the center of the container and carefully placed the flower in and covered the hole up.

Seeing as how I had no idea what kind of flower I was dealing with, or how to take care of it, I was very glad for the flower dictionary by my window. The book was filled with all kinds of beautiful flowers, but it was still too early to tell for sure which plant mine was. I came to find I had done most everything right. I went to the kitchen to get some water for it, then moved it to my windowsill.

I decided to try to talk to the bird on my own once more. As I approached the tree, I saw a small black shape curled by the roots of a tree several feet away.

"Hello Cheshire, it's wonderful to see you again," I said, but the figure continued to lie still, his body slowly moving up and down with each breath. "Cheshire, are you sleeping?"

The little cat slowly turned around to glare at me with complete irritation. "I was, how completely inconsiderate of you. Sleep is the earth's universal sign to go away."

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry."

He groaned. "Don't do that, you'll make me feel bad. I don't like feeling bad."

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"Sor— um, okay."

Cheshire stood and stretched. "What do you want?"

"I was wondering if you could help me. You see, after we met, I tried to introduce myself to the scrub jay, but she wouldn't let me. I thought maybe you could get her to talk to me."

He yawned. "Is that it? Don't mind Meya. She's just a bit high­strung. She's really a doll." He walked next to me as we headed to Meya's nest, his slim body moving with grace only a cat could achieve.

"Meya, I'd like you to meet my human. This is Winnie," he purred up the tree to Meya.

"Your human? I thought you didn't like humans?" she twirled down from her nest and settled onto a branch just eyelevel to me. She cocked her head to the side and examined me. "Oh! I remember you. Sorry dear, I thought you were after my hatchlings. You can never be too careful."

"It's quite alright; I suppose I would have done the same," I said, examining the tiny creature. She had such detailed feathers.

"What a reasonable human. She speaks, too!" she said in amazement. Just like Cheshire, she must have never had a conversation with a human before.

"Yes, why can I speak with you? Cheshire says it's because humans never slow down long enough to try," I asked curiously.

"Cheshire? Oh, you mean Luli!" she exclaimed in amusement.

I turned to Cheshire and mouthed, "Luli?" which earned me quite the cat glare.

"I suppose that is right. I do however recall a few humans trying to speak with me, but it sounded like gibberish. Maybe it's just a special know-how for you. Still, it's indeed peculiar. Is there perhaps a chance you've gone mad?" Meya asked.

"Oh, more than likely, I'd say," Cheshire said licking his paw indifferently. "Being raised in that house, it wouldn't surprise me if you were completely bonkers."

"Well, aren't you just a peachy ray of sunshine," I snapped. "You have no right to insult my family."

"I wasn't insulting your family; I was insulting your house. Get it right," he retorted.

We continued to glare at each other, with dislike growing on both sides. I looked into the sleek cat's eyes and realized just how silly it was to argue with a cat. I began to laugh.

He looked confused. "What are you doing? Stop that— stop it!! It's not funny, why are you laughing?"

"Sorry," I said after I'd stopped. "It's just that I thought just how silly we must look. You almost looked like a human, with your puffed-out chest."

He looked shocked and embarrassed. I imagine, if he could, he'd be blushing. "You are so strange, human."

"Will you please stop calling me human? My name is

Winnie."

"Well, you are a human."

"And you are a cat, but I don't call you cat."

"Fair point. Very well, you are so strange, Winnie."

"Thank you."

"Will you to please stop fighting, you'll upset the little ones," a deep, gravelly voice said. I looked up to see a great big barn owl swoop down and land gently on the branch next to Meya. He was dark brown with freckles of a lighter brown and white. Thin black rings surrounded his eyes. He looked ancient and wise. I wondered if that was because owls were presented as wise, or if he really was.

"This is Alister," Cheshire sighed in exasperation. "He watches the hatchlings while Meya goes out and takes care of whatever she needs to; usually at night of course."

"Oh. It is very nice to meet you, sir." I said with a shallow curtsey.

He puffed up just a bit and inclined his head. "Likewise, now my dear Meya, may I relieve you?"

"You may," she said as she took flight. "Be safe, my little ones."

As I watched her fly away, I couldn't help but be wistful for a mother who showed that level of concern for me. I shook my head. What an idle thought. My mother would not change. But perhaps, I could be a better one. No, I didn't think I'd ever be a mother at all, and especially not with Benedict.

After she had gone from view, I turned to Alister. "So why do you watch the nest for Meya? I thought birds were all single parents."

Cheshire and Alister exchanged looks before he answered me. "That is typical, yes. However, Meya is a scrub jay. They are usually group birds where the males mate and adult children stay to help build the nest and take care of the young ones."

I felt my heart clench and I swallowed. "What happened?"

"This is Meya's first time nesting," Alister continued. "Her

mate abandoned her and now she's all alone."

0m%3;