Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Competitive Nature

The first bunch of these, inspired by the Thursday Prompt over at Poetigress's place, are as follows: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 and 19. Then comes #20, taken from the word "race."

     "Our first goal," El Brujo said, "is not to panic."  

     She'd settled herself once more all smooth and unruffled on 

the foot of the bed, her paws and tail tucked underneath her, 

the very image of feline contentment.  If you didn't know her, I 

mean: the slight tremor that kept twitching her whiskers told me 

quite clearly that she wasn't entirely comfortable with the 

squirrel perched on the bedpost.

     Serena's tail was twitching, too, but then it always does 

that.  And the butterflies in my stomach were so quickly 

evolving into hornets, I couldn't help but sputter a laugh.  

"Don't see that happening, Bru," I told her.

     Her dark eyes narrowed.  "A positive attitude, please, 

August.  After all, we've accomplished every step we've taken 

toward that goal so far, have we not?"

     "We have!"  Serena gave the bedpost a sharp whack with a 

hind paw.  "For you are seated once more correctly in your 

chair!"

     Of course, I'd only flung myself out of the chair in a 

last-ditch effort to stop El Brujo from killing Serena, but I 

refrained from pointing that out.  It didn't seem the sort of 

statement that could further any of our goals, after 

all...

     "Indeed."  El Brujo looked as smug as only a cat can.  "And 

now that we've--"

     A commotion at the window, a large scruffy crow flapping in 

from the afternoon to land on the sill while a slightly smaller 

and sleeker crow grabbed the top of the frame where it stuck out 

toward the De La Vega's house next door.  "Hey, hey, hey!" the 

big one screeched.  "What's the beef, here, huh?  Honoria said 

she heard shouting, and--!"

     "Sounded to me," the smaller crow interrupted, "like there 

was gonna be a carcass or two coming out this window in a couple 

minutes."  She cocked her head.  "But nobody's eating nobody!  

Talk about disappointing!"

     Serena huffed out a breath and drew herself up to her full 

height on the bed knob.  "There will be no eating of 

anyone today!  Today is only for happiness because today 

Mr. Augie will begin courting his future mate!"

     My lungs turned to stone in my chest, and I was sure I was 

going to suffocate there in the silence that greeted Serena's 

statement.  But then both the crows seemed to explode, Jefe 

pounding his wings against the windowsill and shouting, "It's 

about damn time, y'know??  You been miserable like that long as 

I've known you!"

     Honoria swooped in over her brother's head and skittered to 

a stop beside El Brujo, her talons tearing the top of the 

unzipped sleeping bag I use for a bedspread a lot more than 

Serena's little claws had done in her earlier mad dash.  "This 

for true, Gata?"

     "Apparently so."  El Brujo flicked her whiskers at Serena.  

"I was advocating a 'slow but steady' approach in opposition to 

August's preferred method, which I believe I referred to as 

'frozen solid.'  But when Miss Serena involved herself--"

     "Yes!" Serena chittered, doing a little dance on the 

bedpost.  "I am proactive by nature!"

     Jefe made a rattling sound deep in his throat and dropped 

from the sill to land with a floof on my pillow.  "We gotta go 

all out for this, you get me?  Flowers, a zoot suit, a few 

racing stripes for the chair--"

     "Oh, please!"  Honoria clicked her beak.  "You got the 

taste and style of a mockingbird, Jefe!"  Hopping forward, she 

looked me up and down with those solid black eyes.  "Flowers, 

OK, but a tuxedo's the thing, and--"

     "Oh!"  Serena scrambled into my lap.  "One of those great 

big jackets I have seen humans wear when the rains come!  They 

have many pockets, and all of them could be filled with food!"

     Which was just about enough of that.  "Folks?" I said as 

loudly as in animal talk.  "This isn't a race to see how quickly 

I can die of embarrassment, y'know."

     "Alas, August," El Brujo said as dryly as a desert wind.  

"I fear that's exactly what it is.  And you've only 

yourself to blame for it."

     "Me?"  I glared at her, Honoria and Serena staring at her, 

too.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

     She yawned, her tongue curling, then gave us all a slit-

eyed kitty grin.  "What is it your little pony program calls it?  

'The magic of friendship?'"  She nodded her head from the 

squirrel to the crows.  "These are the friends you've made in 

this neighborhood.  And we're going to help you with this no 

matter how much it kills you."

Which leads us into 21.

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