Well, I actually decided to post a story this week... I'm not really sure where this came from, but I like how it turned out. Enjoy! ❤️ 

The Scarecrow and the Girl

“You look like a scarecrow,” I muttered. Usually, insults distracted Jack Oliver enough for me to get my own way. “A scarecrow that’s never seen the light of day.”

“Scarecrow?” Jack turned and raised his blond eyebrows, which looked almost white on his tanned face. “Why a scarecrow?”

I waved a hand. “The overalls, for one. And you’re dusty under the hat.”

Jack yanked his straw hat off his head, pulled a red handkerchief from his pocket, and made a show of running it around his head. “Clean now.”

“Please, Jack.” I clasped my hands to my chest like some medieval lady. “I can’t go out there—there’s pollen.”

He guffawed. “Pollen? That’s what you’re choosing as an excuse?”

My shoulders slumped. “Well…”

“It’s a farm, Lucy.” Jack pulled open the old, peeling front door and waved his hand at the wide expanse of fields just beyond the front porch. “Of course there’s pollen.”

I made a face at his back—and followed him out into the dry, dusty air.

The fields stretched like a golden ocean of ripening grain, ending, it seemed, where the sky began. My grandparents’ Kansas farmland had been fallow far too long, and though my eyes itched with unshed tears and the familiar scent of dirt and growing things made me yearn for things long gone, it was good to see crops flourishing in the fields again…good to see the dust turned to fertile soil…good to see green filling in the barren patches of dirt.

“You coming?” Jack stood at the bottom of the porch steps, hands in his overall pockets. His feet were bare and his brown eyes twinkled with a smile, even though his mouth was stern.

I groaned, sniffed, and crossed my arms. “You know how I feel about pollen.”

“And emotions?” He grinned.

“Shush,” I said. “Where are we going—and is it worth the pollen?”

Jack pulled his hands from his pockets and extended his right to me. His fingers were long, calloused, and dirt-stained…like my grandfather’s had been. “Come on, Lucy. I want you to see this before the sun sets.”

Stop putting up walls, Lucy. I swallowed my fear and put my hand into Jack’s. “Alright.”

We walked together through the fields. Jack’s bare feet sent tiny puffs of dust up into the cool evening air, and I kicked off my tennis shoes so I could walk barefoot too. The sunset cast gold, purple, and pink light over the fields.

As we wended farther into the fields, I saw that some of the patches in the farm quilt were golden—ripe and ready for harvest. Some were pale green, still waiting for enough sunshine and warmth to complete their alchemy. Others were the richest, deepest, warmest, most Irish green I’d ever seen, emeralds cast carelessly on the farm landscape, promising richness and satiation to whatever animals would graze there.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered as Jack paused on the rutted path. “You and your dad have done so much more than Gramps was ever able to accomplish. He only dreamt about doing what you’ve done.”

“Well, it ain’t harvested yet.” Jack dragged a hand through his blond hair. “But it’s a fulfillment of every dream we’ve dreamed too.”

“So, what were you wanting to show me?” I tried not to notice that Jack still clasped my hand in his calloused, steady grip.

“Oh, yes.” He dropped my fingers and ran ahead. “Come on!”

I grinned and chased after him. “Wait for me! I’m coming with you.” The walls can come crashing down…because here, in this moment, I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier.

Breezes brushed over my hair and face, carrying the scent of sunlight and ripening grain which always reminded me of Jack. My childhood friend had grown into manhood well—and though I wouldn’t have ever wished Gramps dead, I was glad that the men who’d bought his farm were the kind who would make Gramps proud.

“Close your eyes.” Jack stopped so suddenly that I nearly crashed into him.

“Why?”

He laughed. “Because I asked, Lucy.”

“What’re you gonna do? Shove me into the pollen-infested field of my nightmares?” I put my hands over my eyes as I reused my flimsy excuse yet again. Pollen and I never were on bad terms…but it’s fun to tease Jack. “You’re a scheming scarecrow, Jack Oliver.”

His laughter was as warm and golden as the sunset spilling over his fields. “Hold out your hand.”

I reached out into the empty air, reaching for him, reaching for a desire that bubbled in my chest even though I couldn’t put a name to it.

“Here I am.” He caught my hand in his strong, warm one and we stood for a moment, the breeze blowing around us, one blind and searching, still grieving, with a fragile heart, one seeing and yet searching, still rebuilding, with a yearning heart.

“Jack?” My voice trembled. “What is it?”

He squeezed my hand. “Follow me. But keep your eyes closed.”

I took careful steps, following him, clinging to his hand. Look, Gramps. I’m walking by faith, not sight.

“Here we are.” Jack stopped and positioned me carefully so that I was facing towards the setting sun—its golden light pierced through to the darkness behind my eyelids. “Open your eyes, Lucy.”

I did, and for a moment, I was blinded by the brightness of the sunset. The field in front of me was bathed in the light; tiny insects were turned to flecks of pixie dust in the brilliance; the world was suspended in the liquid gold spilling over the horizon.

The field itself was abloom with wildflowers, knee deep with lush grass. The sweet scent rolled over me and I breathed deeply of the aroma.

“So, is it worth the pollen?” Jack whispered in my ear as he swung an arm around my shoulder.

I smiled. “Yes, it is, you scarecrow.”

“Are you afraid now?”

“No.” And I clasped his hands in mine.

Nothing to Sneeze About

My boy, George, and I became best friends when he opened my box on Christmas morning. His eyes and smile were so big when he saw me. It was love at first sight. He gave me hugs, and I gave him lots of licks, making him laugh. He asked what kind of dog I am, and his Mom and Dad told him that I am a black Labrador Retriever. That’s when he said, “I’m going to call him Retro.” I decided I liked it and barked my approval when he called me to come see his room. His dad laughed, saying, “Retroactive is more like it.”

Over the next couple months, we spent all our time together, except when he went to school. I especially liked when we went outside to play with his friends. As the days started getting warmer, I couldn’t wait to go outside to play and feel the sunshine. One day, I heard his friends arrive and started to bark, jumping up and down at the door. I was so excited! George put his shoes on and grabbed his ball and bat, shouting, “Mom, I’m going out to play ball with the guys!” She responded, “Okay! I’ll start making some sandwiches for everyone!” He put his cap on and said, “Come on, boy!” He opened the door, and I ran. It felt like freedom. l welcomed the boys by jumping up to lick them and wagging my tail. 

I loved watching them play ball. It was fun chasing after the ball and being able to bring it back. The boys took turns trying to get it out of my mouth. They ended up yelling for George to get it - evidently they don’t like my slobber. Eventually, I needed to lie down. I guess all that running tired me out. I dozed off, but I kept needing to scratch and lick. Everything was so itchy. I couldn’t take it any more so I ran to the door, whining to be let in. One of the boys pointed at me and asked George, “Hey, what’s wrong with Retro?” George spotted me sitting there scratching, and ran to me. He petted me and asked, “Hey, boy. What’s the matter? You want in?” I whined, gave my head a good shake trying to get rid of the itching, then barked a yes to him. He opened the door, and he and the boys followed me in. 

Once inside, George called, “Mom! Come here and look at Retro. I think there’s something bothering him.” Mom came in, wiping her hands on a towel, and took a look at me. I sat there and scratched until it hurt. I whined and licked my paws. Mom crouched down to get a better look at me. After carefully checking me out, she placed her hands on either side of my head, and that was when I sneezed right into her face. All the boys moaned, “Eww!” Mom just took her towel and wiped her face off. Staring into my eyes, she said, “Well, boy, I think you might be having an allergic reaction to something.” She patted my head and told the boys to go eat their sandwiches quickly. They were going to have to go home, because she and George had to take me to the vet. 

After arriving, we went inside to see the doctor. Mom explained what was happening just as I sneezed all over the table I was on. The doctor said, “I see what you mean. Let’s get a good look at you, Retro.” He put gloves on and placed this cold thing on my chest and belly and used a poker thing to look up my nose with a light. After thoroughly examining me and doing a skin test, he asked Mom, “Was he outside recently?” Mom told him that I had been out playing with George and his friends when my scratching started. He ran his hand over my fur, and showed Mom the glove. She gasped, “Is that pollen?” The doctor said, “It is indeed. I believe that is what is causing the itching and sneezing.” George asked, “What about him licking his paws?” He answered,  “He is doing that to soothe the irritation.” Then the doctor explained the different treatments Mom could do at home. He gave me a shot that stung, but then he brought out the cookies. I wagged my thanks and gladly took one. After stopping at the desk for Mom to talk to the nice ladies, we went to the car.

At home, Mom let me in and told George to watch over me until she came back from the store. Once she came back, Dad was home from work and he, along with George, gave me a bath in special bubbles. That helped me feel so much better. After getting dried off, Mom gave me a pill and then put this weird thing around my neck so I couldn’t lick, and it bothered me. I whined and laid my head on my feet. George petted me and told me it would be alright. Then he asked Mom how long it would be until I could go back outside. When I heard “outside” I lifted my head. Mom said it would be about a week for the treatment to work. I didn’t understand what she said, but I could tell it wasn’t good. I put my head back down and huffed my disappointment. 

The next time George went to go outside, he called, “Come on, boy!” I thought, “I can’t go out there. There’s pollen.” George knelt down to me, patted my head, and smiled, saying, “It’s okay for you to go outside, Retro. Your medicine is working, and we’ll make sure to give you another bath when we come back in.” All I heard was that it was okay to go outside. He hugged me, and I gave him lots of licks. Then he opened the door, and I ran.

Go team otter!

Melanie

            “I can’t go out there, there’s pollen. I’m allergic,” Melanie said as she stared at her friends choice for their picnic spot.

            “Aww, c’mon. You’ll be fine. You don’t have to pick any flowers,” Melanie’s friend begged, “And you can’t die from pollen. It’s never happened. It’s not going to happen. I’m tired of your stupid allergy. I bet it’s fake, anyway.”

            Melanie’s feelings were hurt, “No! I wouldn’t make anything up, especially something as atrocious as that! You know me better than that!”

            “C’mon. You’re not allergic, and here’s my chance to prove me right.”

            “But-”

            “Aww, Melanie’s a scardy cat. Melanie’s a scardy cat.”

            “Alright! I’ll come. But it’s your fault if I fall over dead!” she reached down to scratch her leg for emphasis.

            “Good. And now you’ll see. You’re not allergic.”

            Melanie had her doubts, but she followed her friend into the meadow.

********************************************************************************

            Melanie awoke to the beeping of machinery, the sound of muffled voices, and the feeling that something was very, very wrong. Then she knew. She had fainted in the field.

            “Is she okay? Will she live? What happened?”

            “We were having a picnic and she just fell over and looked like she had seen a ghost. I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.”

            Sorry! Likely story. Melanie opened her eyes.

            “She’s awake!”

            “How do you feel?”

            “Do you need a drink?”

            Melanie was overwhelmed, “Yes, can I have some water? I feel fine. And, yes I’m awake.”

********************************************************************************

            Ten days later, Melanie was back home. She was fully recovered, but the doctors warned her that she could die if she ever did something like that again. And, her friend finally believed her.

How many weeks do we have left? I have no clue

Don’t Sneeze!

It was a dark and stormy afternoon when the teens trooped into my office. I heard the shuffling feet outside my door. It creaked open, and I looked over the top of my battered paperback. They were thirteen, maybe fourteen. They wore jeans and shirts that were faded and worn. Their shoes were barely held together with duct tape. 

“Are you Glen H.E. Robin, P.I.?”

“That’s what my door says. What can I do ya’ for?” I asked.

“We need you to find our friend who’s been missing for a couple of days.”  

The taller of the two girls set a pair of crumbled twenties on my desk and said, “We can pay.”

Months without a paying case. Living on peanut butter sandwiches. This wouldn’t pay the rent. But their grim faces told me this wasn’t a social call.

I knew what it was like to be alone, unwanted, and these kids looked the part. There was no way I couldn’t take the job, if their friend was really missing.

“What makes y’all think she’s missing?” 

“She’d never skip out on Thursdays at the skatepark.” The boy said. 

The second girl slid an old cell phone across the desk towards me. “This is the last text we received from her.”

I looked at the cracked screen then up, confused. “This it?”

“Yeah. Got that yesterday morning and after that nothing. Angelo tried checking with her stepmom, but she was no help.”

Angelo seemed distracted, not looking at anything but the floor and pulling at a loose thread on his T-shirt. He nodded when the girl said his name. “Cora’s right.”

I read the text aloud scratching at the two-day stubble on my chin. “I can’t go out there, there’s pollen.” 

“Did she have allergies?”

“Lucy, do you know if Amanda had any allergies?” Cora asked the taller girl.

“No. That is why we were confused.” 

"Is there anything special I need to know before I go snooping around?”

“Nooo?” Angelo said.

I leaned back, crossed my arms and gave my best glower. He shifted his weight and picked at a hole in his jacket. He was hiding something.

"I can’t help you if you aren’t gonna be honest with me.”

“We ain’t human.” 

Only then, I noticed their aura and scent. The boy even had a slight yellow glow in his aura. I wasn’t human either. When I lost control of the Wild Hunt, I left that world behind. 

“Changlings?”

“Yeah, we were told you could help.” Angelo said

It made me wonder who told them that. I had been living outside the Realm for ages. I didn’t think there was anyone left alive who knew what I was. 

The rain had let up, so we walked to the skatepark. The slick pavement and continued drizzle kept the mortals away. The veil here was thin enough that the Realm pulled at me. I looked over to the kids to ask if they had used the portal.

“AAAchoo!” Suddenly Cora disappeared into a cloud of yellow dust. In a crack in the concrete, a dandelion sprouted where she had just been standing. My goblin senses picked up the scent of Summer: humidity mixed with sweet floral and cut grass. An ancient memory of prior hunts. 

Gowan… He was a wyldfae, and it seemed he was up to his old tricks. Sowing chaos in my town. Even if I don’t lead the Wild Hunt anymore, I am still Herne Goblin, former Erlking. 

I looked back at Lucy and Angelo. 

Lucy’s nose was scrunched. Her chest shuddered. Her hand went up to her mouth. “Ah-ah-”

“LUCY! NO!” I yelled. “Don’t-”

“Choo...”

There was another poof of yellow, and a second dandelion sprung up. I just stared at the space where the girls had been standing moments ago. The only sound was the intermittent rain drops hitting the ground around us. Two changlings taken on my watch, and one more missing.

Angelo stared down at the flowers in the crack. I dropped to my knees and put my head in my hands. I could run away; forget I met the kids and go back to my dusty office and battered books. No one would know.  

No. Gowan was not going to get away this time. I may not lead the hunt anymore, but I still belonged to the Realm, and I was still one of its greatest trackers.

“Angelo, do you have a pocketknife?”

“Yes?”

“Use it to dig out both the flowers. We need to keep those with us. I believe if we find the creature responsible for changing your two friends, we will find the third.”

I pulled out a bottle of nasal spray and handed it to Angelo. “First take preventative measures so you don’t end up a poof of yellow too.” 

He looked at me skeptically, but sprayed his nose, and handed the bottle back. 

I took a good look at Angelo as he dug the flowers out. I shook my head. He was still hiding something.

The hairs on the back of my neck tried to crawl into my hat. There was a shimmer on the wet pavement behind Angelo and the heavy smell of humidity, and a tall, thin Sidhe appeared. Gowan. 

“Good Job, my son. Hand me the flowers. I will take it from here.”

“Wait? What?!?” I looked at them both.

Angelo looked at me and grimaced. “Dad needed the power. Lucy and Cora were acceptable, so I turned them in.”

“Amanda figured it out and tried to warn Lucy and Cora, but they didn’t make the connection.”

I was reminded of our initial meeting, the scent and the color I saw in his aura. It made sense. I had been duped. 

“You were hoping I would find Amanda, so you could take her too.”

Father and Son disappeared without answering. I was on the hunt again.