Kelly's Secret Paws- Chapter 3 The Pigtail Monster

Kelly's Secret Paws- Chapter 3 The Pigtail Monster

by Eva Marie Woywod and friends.

Dedicated to Mom.

After the warriors leave Berta’s table,

after the last bowl is wiped clean,

after the faeries slip away on threads of moonlight to dance between the pines,

the cottage grows quiet enough for even the stars to hear a heartbeat.

That is when he comes.

Four soft paws on the threshold.

He checks once, twice, three times (ears pricked, tail low)

to be certain no one follows, no one watches.

Only when the night itself gives permission does he leap,

light as a wish, onto the old wooden table.

Kelly.

Seal-brown points against cream, eyes the color of temple sapphires,

a Siamese who carries centuries in his whiskers

and somewhere, far back along the silk-road of his blood,

the sly laughter of a red-coated leprechaun.

He sits in front of Berta without a sound.

She is always there at this hour: apron loosened, coffee gone cool,

tears finally allowed to fall now that every child, every warrior, every small winged helper has been fed.

Kelly waits.

He has waited before.

He waited in a bombed village when a little girl named Berta

hid in a closet so dark her own heartbeat frightened her.

He waited through seasons of silence while war’s iron frost clung to her soul.

He waited until the first tear dared to fall,

and when it did he caught it on his velvet paw

and lifted it high so the sun could turn it into gold,

and the faeries could carry its color into the forest,

until the scarred land bloomed like stained glass

and the child remembered how to breathe.

That was the beginning of their secret covenant.

Night after night, ever since,

when the last warrior sleeps and the last faery light fades,

Kelly returns.

He curls against Berta’s wrist,

lets her tears fall into the warm fur of his neck,

then carries them (one by one) to the open window

where the waiting stars drink them in

and send them back as tomorrow’s gentle dawn.

Even Selene, wise as she is, does not know this part.

Even Lior, whose hair holds a skyful of saved tears, has never seen it.

Only the moon and the old table and the flax flowers outside

are witnesses to the quietest healing in the forest.

So keep this chapter folded close, little one.

Guard it behind your ribs where only the worthiest dreams are kept.

Kelly is listening at the foot of your bed tonight.

Berta has left the window cracked, just enough for starlight and cat-whiskers to slip through.

The warriors are resting, but they are never far.

You are safe to cry if you need to.

Every tear you give will be carried, softened, and returned as morning.

Sleep now.

The secret is safe.

Love never stops working,

even when the whole valley is asleep.

-----------

My Very Best Friend

Growing Up

My Guardian - My Secret Keeper

He Saved Me More Than Anyone Knows

Kelly