Cool Breeze

          Miss Kitty had hoped for a flash of light, angels floating above the white pine, fiddles and harps, or a visual of Harold and Lilith walking up a golden stairway to heaven, arms entwined. But after Miss Kitty and Miles finished reading “Luke Havergal” for Harold the ghost, the red winged blackbird cawed three times and then, flew away. There was no flash of light, no hallelujahs from an angel choir, no music, and no golden stairway to heaven.

            Miles, perched on Miss Kitty’s shoulder, stifled the tears that longed to flow down his handsome snout and flood the meadow. A cool breeze cleared the clouds from the sky, painting the horizon in an assortment of blues, and the grass, dry and yellow, looked like it had been brushed by God. Together, the two friends trudged back to the silent cabin. The flowers on the deck had withered and died, and Miss Kitty had already harvested and dried the herbs in the front yard garden.

            Miss Kitty walked up the sturdy steps and into the clean and refurbished house. Miles scampered down from her shoulders, and jumped on to the oak table, sitting on top of the deed to the house. “Miss Kitty,” he said, standing tall in his red jacket and looking important, “You need to see this document.”

            Miss Kitty’s eyes grew big, because suddenly, I know I’m not supposed to say that, but really, it’s quite late in the evening and I have tears in my eyes and just can’t focus long enough to come up with a descriptive text describing how wide Miss Kitty’s eyes grew, it was as if they had turned from dimes into half dollars in the wink of an eye, and Miss Kitty exclaimed, “Miles, I understood what you said.”