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Yep, it's my 29th birthday again, and just for you, I have a present!
Easter in Carter’s Cove
“Come ON, Schrodinger, where are you? We’re going to be late!”
Molly stood on the front steps of her townhouse, hands on her hips, and glared around. Predictably for the coast of Maine in early April, there was still snow on the ground, a light frosting from the storm that had blown in the night before. But there were also crocuses, lovely little purple flowers crusted now with a shimmery ice edge, pushing their way up through the snow, stubborn reminders that yes, even here, spring was on its way. Even if there was still snow.
There were also paw prints in the snow – a lot of them. Some of them, Molly knew, were Jack’s, because she’d heard the distinctive belling of the half-blue tick hound earlier. When she’d let Schrodinger out, in fact. Which meant the CrossCat and at least one of his partners-in-crime were out in the early morning air.
Somewhere.
The only good news was that Molly didn’t see any shoe prints in with the paw prints. So her niece Lily wasn’t involved. But there seemed to be an awful lot more paw prints than just Schrodinger and Jack would make – and some of them were, well, odd.
Molly glanced at her watch one more time – it was nearly 6 am; the sky to the east was rose and gold as the sun peeked over the horizon. The smell of spring hung in the air: a moist, damp smell that spoke of loam and mud and playing in the grass.
It was not, unfortunately, late enough on the Sunday morning to howl Schrodinger’s name, no matter how much she wanted to.
“Damn it, Cat, where are you?” She looked up and down the street again, then shook her head. “Screw it. I’ve got to get to work.”
Picking up her hamper, Molly stepped down the steps, began to trudge up the street and then stopped, puzzled. There on the sidewalk in front of her was…an egg. A pink and green striped egg, to be precise. A pink and green striped egg that hadn’t been there a moment before.
As she stood looking at the egg, she heard Jack’s belling bark again from behind her, and managed to step aside as the hound thundered up, Schrodinger hot on his tail. The egg stood no chance at all.
Jack, stop, there’s another! Schrodinger called excitedly. We’re getting closer!
Jack bounced around her, howling in agreement, and Molly saw that he’d missed the egg somehow. It still sat on the pavement, unmoving and unbroken.
“Stop, guys! You’ll wake the whole neighborhood!” Molly shushed both of them, trying to sound stern, but with the two of them dancing around her, it was hard. They were so adorable, even when they were getting into trouble. “Where have you been? It’s time to go bake!”
We’re following the eggs! Schrodinger told her. Watch! We’re lucky – it hasn’t hatched yet!
Hatched? Molly looked down at the egg. “Guys, Easter eggs don’t…” Her voice trailed as the egg started to rock.
Both Schrodinger and Jack fixed their eyes on the gently moving ovoid. We can’t lose it this time, Schrodinger warned. Remember, they’re fast!
“What are?” Molly asked.
And then the egg split open with a musical crack, and out tumbled a tiny ball of pink fluff. It shook itself, scattering what looked like pink spun sugar in a cloud around it, and then stood on spindly little legs.
“Okay, this is weird.” Molly blinked and reached down, gently picking up the chick. It chirruped at her. “Easter Eggs hatch…Peeps?”
The last one was a chocolate bunny! Schrodinger told her, and Jack nodded his head. We lost it by the library.
“Well, this one doesn’t seem to be going very far,” Molly said, as the chick snuggled up to her thumb, making happy little noises. “Let’s take it to the book store. Maybe we’ll find more eggs.”
By the time they made it to CrossWinds Books, the chick riding comfortably in her jacket’s chest pocket, Molly had lost Schrodinger and Jack to another egg that had, in fact, hatched a chocolate lop-eared bunny that had immediately run off. They were right. The bunnies were fast. Very fast. Molly wondered where they were heading.
But she couldn’t chase them. She had things to do. So she set down her basket and unlocked the door, letting herself and the chick into the shadowy darkness of the bookstore she spent most days in. After disarming the alarm, she headed back to her own personal domain – the kitchen.
The chick cheeped and hopped out of her pocket onto the counter, and began to investigate as Molly put her hamper on the table in the corner. “Don’t eat anything,” she warned it. “You don’t need any more sugar, I’m sure.”
The pink chick paused and looked over at her, and chirped. Very seriously. Molly sighed.
“Just what I need. Another odd pet.” Although it would be interesting to see just exactly what kind of eggs a pink chicken laid. Molly shook her head and pulled out her first batch of dough, then turned the oven to preheat.
“What, Schrodinger isn’t enough?” Her aunt asked from the doorway.
Molly laughed. “Oh, he’s enough, but look what I found on the way to work today.” She nodded at the chick, who was investigating again. “Schrodinger and Jack are off chasing chocolate bunnies.”
“Oh my.” Aunt Margie came in and looked at the chick. “Well, well, well. I don’t remember them being quite so docile. He must have changed the recipe.”
“Oh?”
Aunt Margie nodded. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You couldn’t have been more than two the last time I saw one of these.”
Molly paused. “You mean you’ve seen these before?”
“Of course.” A loud bang interrupted them as the front door slammed open. Both turned towards the front of the store just in time to see a furry white blur come running through the doorway, nearly taking Aunt Margie out at the knees. It fled into the pantry and the door slammed shut before Molly could do more than blink. The front door slammed open again, and Jack and Schrodinger barreled into the kitchen, Jack howling enthusiastically.
“ENOUGH!” Molly shouted and then, in the silence that fell, she said quietly, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Jack looked at Schrodinger, who was intently staring at the shut pantry door and didn’t answer. Molly stepped in front of him, cutting off his view, and repeated, “Schrodinger, what are you doing?”
It’s in there, isn’t it? The CrossCat’s eyes sparkled. You caught it?
“Caught what?” Molly demanded. “What are you chasing?”
Her aunt started to laugh. “You can’t have him, Schrodinger. There will be some very unhappy children if you don’t let him finish his rounds.”
But why? Schrodinger demanded. Why is he sneaking around?
“No.” Molly looked at the chick, who was fluffing its feathers, and then she looked over at her aunt. “Really?”
“You’ve lived in Carter’s Cove all your life, and you can’t believe in the Easter Bunny?” Aunt Marge said, chuckling. “After everything else you’ve seen?” She picked Schrodinger up in one hand, and hooked her other hand through Jack’s collar. “I’ll hold these two. You let him know the coast is clear.”
Molly opened the door to the pantry. There, in the back, was a very large white rabbit, his ears flat back against his skull, and a basket under his arm. “I’m so very sorry,” she said. “They’re a little too…enthusiastic about some things.”
Slowly, first one ear and then the other came up, and he stood up.
“We’ve got them, and we’ll keep them in here until you’re done,” Molly added, glancing over her shoulder at Schrodinger. “And explain to them exactly what they almost interrupted.”
The rabbit crept out cautiously, twitching his nose. He nodded at Aunt Margie, then looked over at the chick and cocked his head. The chick chirped twice, and the rabbit blinked. Then he shrugged, and hopped out quickly.
Aunt Marge didn’t let the CrossCat or the hound go until they heard the door close. Then she let them down, and shook her finger at them. “No more chasing the Easter Bunny! Or I know at least one child that will never forgive you!”
Molly tried to smother her laughter at their downcast postures and failed. “Cheer up, guys. I think he left some eggs in the pantry. The gods only know what will come out of them.”
Easter in Carter’s Cove
“Come ON, Schrodinger, where are you? We’re going to be late!”
Molly stood on the front steps of her townhouse, hands on her hips, and glared around. Predictably for the coast of Maine in early April, there was still snow on the ground, a light frosting from the storm that had blown in the night before. But there were also crocuses, lovely little purple flowers crusted now with a shimmery ice edge, pushing their way up through the snow, stubborn reminders that yes, even here, spring was on its way. Even if there was still snow.
There were also paw prints in the snow – a lot of them. Some of them, Molly knew, were Jack’s, because she’d heard the distinctive belling of the half-blue tick hound earlier. When she’d let Schrodinger out, in fact. Which meant the CrossCat and at least one of his partners-in-crime were out in the early morning air.
Somewhere.
The only good news was that Molly didn’t see any shoe prints in with the paw prints. So her niece Lily wasn’t involved. But there seemed to be an awful lot more paw prints than just Schrodinger and Jack would make – and some of them were, well, odd.
Molly glanced at her watch one more time – it was nearly 6 am; the sky to the east was rose and gold as the sun peeked over the horizon. The smell of spring hung in the air: a moist, damp smell that spoke of loam and mud and playing in the grass.
It was not, unfortunately, late enough on the Sunday morning to howl Schrodinger’s name, no matter how much she wanted to.
“Damn it, Cat, where are you?” She looked up and down the street again, then shook her head. “Screw it. I’ve got to get to work.”
Picking up her hamper, Molly stepped down the steps, began to trudge up the street and then stopped, puzzled. There on the sidewalk in front of her was…an egg. A pink and green striped egg, to be precise. A pink and green striped egg that hadn’t been there a moment before.
As she stood looking at the egg, she heard Jack’s belling bark again from behind her, and managed to step aside as the hound thundered up, Schrodinger hot on his tail. The egg stood no chance at all.
Jack, stop, there’s another! Schrodinger called excitedly. We’re getting closer!
Jack bounced around her, howling in agreement, and Molly saw that he’d missed the egg somehow. It still sat on the pavement, unmoving and unbroken.
“Stop, guys! You’ll wake the whole neighborhood!” Molly shushed both of them, trying to sound stern, but with the two of them dancing around her, it was hard. They were so adorable, even when they were getting into trouble. “Where have you been? It’s time to go bake!”
We’re following the eggs! Schrodinger told her. Watch! We’re lucky – it hasn’t hatched yet!
Hatched? Molly looked down at the egg. “Guys, Easter eggs don’t…” Her voice trailed as the egg started to rock.
Both Schrodinger and Jack fixed their eyes on the gently moving ovoid. We can’t lose it this time, Schrodinger warned. Remember, they’re fast!
“What are?” Molly asked.
And then the egg split open with a musical crack, and out tumbled a tiny ball of pink fluff. It shook itself, scattering what looked like pink spun sugar in a cloud around it, and then stood on spindly little legs.
“Okay, this is weird.” Molly blinked and reached down, gently picking up the chick. It chirruped at her. “Easter Eggs hatch…Peeps?”
The last one was a chocolate bunny! Schrodinger told her, and Jack nodded his head. We lost it by the library.
“Well, this one doesn’t seem to be going very far,” Molly said, as the chick snuggled up to her thumb, making happy little noises. “Let’s take it to the book store. Maybe we’ll find more eggs.”
By the time they made it to CrossWinds Books, the chick riding comfortably in her jacket’s chest pocket, Molly had lost Schrodinger and Jack to another egg that had, in fact, hatched a chocolate lop-eared bunny that had immediately run off. They were right. The bunnies were fast. Very fast. Molly wondered where they were heading.
But she couldn’t chase them. She had things to do. So she set down her basket and unlocked the door, letting herself and the chick into the shadowy darkness of the bookstore she spent most days in. After disarming the alarm, she headed back to her own personal domain – the kitchen.
The chick cheeped and hopped out of her pocket onto the counter, and began to investigate as Molly put her hamper on the table in the corner. “Don’t eat anything,” she warned it. “You don’t need any more sugar, I’m sure.”
The pink chick paused and looked over at her, and chirped. Very seriously. Molly sighed.
“Just what I need. Another odd pet.” Although it would be interesting to see just exactly what kind of eggs a pink chicken laid. Molly shook her head and pulled out her first batch of dough, then turned the oven to preheat.
“What, Schrodinger isn’t enough?” Her aunt asked from the doorway.
Molly laughed. “Oh, he’s enough, but look what I found on the way to work today.” She nodded at the chick, who was investigating again. “Schrodinger and Jack are off chasing chocolate bunnies.”
“Oh my.” Aunt Margie came in and looked at the chick. “Well, well, well. I don’t remember them being quite so docile. He must have changed the recipe.”
“Oh?”
Aunt Margie nodded. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You couldn’t have been more than two the last time I saw one of these.”
Molly paused. “You mean you’ve seen these before?”
“Of course.” A loud bang interrupted them as the front door slammed open. Both turned towards the front of the store just in time to see a furry white blur come running through the doorway, nearly taking Aunt Margie out at the knees. It fled into the pantry and the door slammed shut before Molly could do more than blink. The front door slammed open again, and Jack and Schrodinger barreled into the kitchen, Jack howling enthusiastically.
“ENOUGH!” Molly shouted and then, in the silence that fell, she said quietly, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Jack looked at Schrodinger, who was intently staring at the shut pantry door and didn’t answer. Molly stepped in front of him, cutting off his view, and repeated, “Schrodinger, what are you doing?”
It’s in there, isn’t it? The CrossCat’s eyes sparkled. You caught it?
“Caught what?” Molly demanded. “What are you chasing?”
Her aunt started to laugh. “You can’t have him, Schrodinger. There will be some very unhappy children if you don’t let him finish his rounds.”
But why? Schrodinger demanded. Why is he sneaking around?
“No.” Molly looked at the chick, who was fluffing its feathers, and then she looked over at her aunt. “Really?”
“You’ve lived in Carter’s Cove all your life, and you can’t believe in the Easter Bunny?” Aunt Marge said, chuckling. “After everything else you’ve seen?” She picked Schrodinger up in one hand, and hooked her other hand through Jack’s collar. “I’ll hold these two. You let him know the coast is clear.”
Molly opened the door to the pantry. There, in the back, was a very large white rabbit, his ears flat back against his skull, and a basket under his arm. “I’m so very sorry,” she said. “They’re a little too…enthusiastic about some things.”
Slowly, first one ear and then the other came up, and he stood up.
“We’ve got them, and we’ll keep them in here until you’re done,” Molly added, glancing over her shoulder at Schrodinger. “And explain to them exactly what they almost interrupted.”
The rabbit crept out cautiously, twitching his nose. He nodded at Aunt Margie, then looked over at the chick and cocked his head. The chick chirped twice, and the rabbit blinked. Then he shrugged, and hopped out quickly.
Aunt Marge didn’t let the CrossCat or the hound go until they heard the door close. Then she let them down, and shook her finger at them. “No more chasing the Easter Bunny! Or I know at least one child that will never forgive you!”
Molly tried to smother her laughter at their downcast postures and failed. “Cheer up, guys. I think he left some eggs in the pantry. The gods only know what will come out of them.”
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Happy Birthday!
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And thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it!
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I love it! As usual! Thanks for sharing your wonderful worlds with us.
Happy Birthday dear!
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I love your gift!
My grandfather's birthday was april fools too
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This is why I like the day, though. I get to give gifts to others! :D
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Now, don't you miss my out of key singing at DII? ;)
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