Word: waif

               

waif

\ weyf \  , noun;

1. a person, especially a child, who has no home or friends.

2. something found, especially a stray animal, whose owner is not known.

3. a stray item or article: to gather waifs of gossip .

4. Nautical.  waft.

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               “Mommy, Mommy, come quick!” Shouted Julie as her small legs carried her through the lightly crowded city streets as quickly as they could.

               “What’s the matter dear?” The girl’s mother, Amy, asked.  She knew she should have been more concerned with her daughter’s urgency, but she knew the girl too well.  The six year old girl was easily excited, and tended to find even mundane items and events worthy of urgency.

               Julie didn’t answer her mother’s question.  Instead, she grabbed her hand and started pulling.  Amy sighed, but remained planted for a moment, trying to read a magazine article from a small newsstand.

               “Come on Mommy!”  Julie said as she pulled.  Amy might have been a bit jaded about Julie’s antics, but she also knew better than to ignore her completely.  She set the magazine back on the rack and let herself be pulled along.

               Julie led her to a small ally that was being guarded by her husband, George.  When he saw them coming, he looked at Amy apologetically.  Julie let go of her mother and rushed to the ally, looking at something with great interest.

               “I tired, I really did.  But you know how she gets.”  George said quietly once Amy had gotten close enough.

               “What are you…?”  She started to ask.  But, when she saw he was pointing to a box that had so absorbed their daughter.  “Oh.”  She said simply when she saw what was in it.

               Quietly sleeping inside the box was a tiny, scrawny waif of a puppy.  It’s short, solid brown fur was matted and covered with dirt.  One of its droopy ears looked like a piece of it had been torn off, giving it an awkward, lopsided appearance.  And it was so small that it could only have been to runt of the litter.

               “Can we keep it Mommy?  Can we please?”  Julie asked, looking hopefully up at her mother.

               Amy and George looked at each other nervously.  They had always planned on getting her a pet, but not until her ninth birthday.  It was something of a tradition in George’s family.  Something about teaching responsibility when they were old enough to appreciate the lesson.  But this was three years too soon.  They couldn’t get a pet that early.

               “Sorry honey, but I don’t think we can afford to have a puppy right now.”  Amy said while trying to sound sympathetic.

               “Why not?” Julie asked.

               “Because our apartment isn’t big enough for one.”  George said.  It wasn’t true.  They had more than enough room for even a medium sized dog.  But it was the best he could come up with on such short notice.

               “But she’s really little.”  Julie pointed out.  Amy was silently panicking.

               Julie had decided the puppy was a female, regardless of its actual gender.  That meant that she had started to bond with the animal—or at least was trying to.  That would make it harder to convince her to give it up.  The only thing that would make it worse would be giving it a name.

               “Well, even so, our home isn’t ready for a puppy yet.” Amy said.

               “It’s not?”

               “Nope.  See, just like people, puppies need all kinds of things.  They need food, a bed, a leash, special toys, and a lot of other stuff before we can even think of taking one home.

               “So why don’t we get all that?”

               “Because…” Amy started.  She had no idea of what to say next.

               “Because all that takes a long time to get.”  George said, coming to his wife’s rescue.  We can’t just go and get the first things we see.  We need to make sure we get the best we can, so the puppy will be happy.  But that take a long time.  So, someone else might come and take her with them before we can.”

               Julie’s eyes widened with terror at the idea of that happening. Amy looked at her husband, thanking him with her eyes.

               “But what should we do then?”  Julie asked.  George raced to come up with a solution.

               “How about this.  We take her to a nice kennel—“

               “What’s a kennel? Julie asked, interrupting her father’s plan.

               “It’s a place where dogs and puppies without homes can stay until they do.”  George said, “So, we take them to one of those.  That way, she can be around lots of other puppies and make lots of friends.  But, we might not be able to take her home for awhile, even if we do that.  But, you can still visit sometimes.  How does that sound?”  Both parents desperately hopped she would accept the offer so as not to continue the conversation.  Julie thought about the idea for a moment.

               “How long will it be before we can take her home?”  She asked.

               “I don’t know.  Once she makes friends, the other puppies might not want her to go right away, so it’ll probably be awhile.  But, like I said, you can still visit.”

               “But what if someone likes her and takes her from the kennel?”  Julie asked.

               “We can tell the owners not to let her go for anyone but us.  That way she’ll be waiting for you when we’re ready to take her home.”

               “Well…okay, I guess.”  She said.  A large, pouty frown was plastered to her face, even as she spoke.  It was still very obvious she didn’t like the idea too much though.

               She watched her father carefully pick up the box like a hawk.  Amy reached down and scooped Amy up into her arms.  The young girl wrapped her small arms around her mother’s neck, never taking her eyes off the box and its contents.  

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Everyone loves puppies!  Right?  Right? 

Word: residuum

residuum

\ ri-ZIJ-oo-uhm \  , noun;

1. the residue, remainder, or rest of something.

2. Also, residue. Chemistry.  a quantity or body of matter remaining after evaporation, combustion, distillation, etc.

3. any residual product.

4. Law.  the residue of an estate.

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“Think we’ve gone far enough?” Jill asked as the two of them continued their running bounce through the cave.

               “I guess so.  It didn’t look like it was interested in us at any rate.”  Kyle said, looking behind him for any signs of the large creature. 

               “Thank god for small miracles.”  Jill said as she came to a stop.  Kyle nodded as he came to rest next to her.

               “Yeah, but now I’m wishing one of us brought something other than a pocket knife to defend ourselves with.”

               “Can’t be helped.  It’s not like we knew this was going to happen.”

               The two sat down on the soft, springy moss to rest, each looking around them.  As she looked at one of the colonies of glowing butterflies, a random thought crossed Jill’s mind.

               “What do you think they eat?”

               “What?” Kyle asked, looking confused.

               “The butterflies.  They hang out on those rocks, so what do they eat?”

               “No idea.  Maybe there’s something growing on, or even in, the rocks.  Why?”

               “No reason.  Just kind of wondering, you know.  I mean, so far, we’ve seen two animals eating something.  But there’s two others that we don’t know anything about.  The butterflies are just more common, so I guess I was just thinking about them more.”

               “I see.  Are you sure it’s not something else you’re thinking about?”  Kyle asked.  He was figuring she was hungry herself.  He had to admit, he was starting to feel some hunger pangs himself.  They hadn’t brought much to eat, so they would soon have to find something edible.

               “Er, maybe.”  Jill admitted.  “Guess it has been awhile since we ate, hasn’t it?”

               “Yeah.  Hopefully what we have will last until someone comes to find us.”  He was already taking his bag of trail mix from his backpack. 

He had intended it as a snack, but since it was about to become his only meal, he would have to ration it out carefully, as would Jill with her bag of the same mix.  The two carefully nibbled on the nuts and raisins while keeping an eye open for more of the carnivorous creatures.  When they both agreed that they had enough to keep them going, they got up and resumed their aimless journey through the cavern.

“Do you smell something?”  Kyle asked suddenly.  Jill took a deep breath before replying in agreement.  There was an odd smell in the air.  Something like paint residue left out in the sun.  It wasn’t a strong smell, but it was there.

They followed it as best they could, and soon found themselves at the wall of the cavern.  There, about two feet off the ground was what looked like some kind of crude painting.  It was a small spiral with a single vertical line through it, painted in the same color as the butterflies, although not as bright.  The mark was faded, like it had been painted a long time ago.  Probably the remnants of some kind of long forgotten civilization.  Kyle knelt down to take another look at the simple painting. 

“What do you think it mean?”  He asked.

“No idea, but there’s more of them.”  Jill said.  Kyle looked.  There were indeed several more of the simple paintings scattered along the wall, each one slightly different.  All were the same color, but the patterns varied.  Most had a spiral incorporated in them somewhere, and for most it was the main aspect.  They were also nearly level with each other, forming a ring around the cavern wall.

They followed the rows of paintings, trying to find some kind of pattern or purpose to them.  Neither was able to figure anything out though.  There was something about them though that nagged at both their minds.  When they started, the paintings were faded and dull.  Mere remnants of something else.  But as they went, they became brighter, and seemed to have been done more recently.  They looked at each other, both coming to the same realization.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”  Jill said nervously.

“Yeah, I think I am.  There’s something intelligent down here.” 

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Hm, what could it be?  Sorry, but you'll have to wait to find that out.  

Word: sidle

 

sidle

\ SAHYD-l \  , verb;

1. to move sideways or obliquely.

2. to edge along furtively.

noun:

1. a sidling movement.

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The midday sun beat down hard on the two hikers as they sidled along the narrow rock ledge, one moving slowly but calmly, the other moved even slower and clung to any handhold possible with a white knuckle grip.  The rapidly moving river below them roared menacingly, as if it was just waiting for one of them to fall into it.   

               “Why are we doing this again?”  Said the hiker in the rear over the sound of the river.

               “I told you, because it’s there.”  Said the other, equally loud.

               “That’s not a reason, and you know it.”

               “Sure it is.  You know, it’s an adventure.”

               “My idea of adventure is going to the mall and getting something I didn’t plan on.  This is what I call crazy and suicidal.”

               “Oh come on, Deb, live a little.” The first hiker said, trying to stifle a laugh at his companion’s expense.

               “Frank, I swear, if I fall and die, I’m going to kill you!”  Deb shouted.

               “It’s fine.  Even if you fall, we’re not high enough for you to get hurt, and there are plenty of things in the water to grab onto to keep you from getting too far away.” 

               Deb didn’t answer, preferring to shoot Frank an icy glare that was completely lost on him, as he was looking where he was going, and not at her.  When she saw that her look went unnoticed, she went back to clinging to the rock.  She moved her hand only when she was sure she saw a stable handhold within reach, and then she moved with lighting speed to get it.  Frank moved with much more surety, taking hold of the nearest outcropping of rock, and trusting it not to break, allowing him to progress much quicker than she did.   He even had to stop and wait for her to catch up a few times. 

               “Come on Frank, I know there’s a reason for this.  You never do anything crazy without reason.”  She said eventually.

               “You’re right, I do have a reason.  But you’ll have to wait to find out what.”

               “Oh come on!  You owe it to me for dragging me out here in the first place.”

               “No I don’t.  Don’t worry, you’ll like it, I promise.”

               “Uh huh.  Can you at least tell me if it’ll take much longer?”

               “It will, but we won’t be on this ledge the entire time if that helps.”

               “A bit, yes.”  Deb said.  It was a bit of a comfort, but since she didn’t know how long they would be up there, it wasn’t much of one.  She kept quite though, since she didn’t know how much he was willing to divulge, and didn’t want to waste her time asking things that wouldn’t get a proper answer.

               After another half hour of inching their way along the narrow ledge, they finally came to a notch in the rock big enough for the two of them to sit on.  Deb collapsed, panting and grateful for the stable ground.  Frank sat with his legs dangling over the edge while he waited for her to recover.

               “So, where to next?”  She asked.

               “Down that way.”  He said.  He pointed into the notch. When she looked, she saw that it led into a cave.  Where it went, she didn’t really want to know.  All she knew was that it was small and narrow, which meant more crawling along sideways. 

               “This had better be good.”  She said. 

               Once both of them were on their feet, Frank led the way into the mouth of the cave.  Deb had been right.  It was a very tight fit.  She had to press up against the cold, damp wall of the cave just to avoid the other.  She was a little grateful that they were out of the sun, and that she wasn’t in any danger of falling to her death, but she still wasn’t too happy about their current trek.  The fact that they seemed to be going up didn’t make it any better either. 

               “So, there’s no poisonous spiders of scorpions in here, are there?”  She asked nervously.

               “Probably not.  But if you feel something crawling on you, hold real still and let me know.” He said.  She couldn’t tell if he was joking, but was desperately hoping he was.  She slowed down a bit, just to be on the safe side.

               The two made their way through the tunnel slowly because of the awkward way they needed to move.  Because of this, it took them the better part of two hours to get through it.  By the time Deb saw light up ahead, she was so miserable she was about ready to collapse right there and not move an inch.  But, Frank excitedly spurred her on.

               She followed him out of the tunnel and found herself on a wide outcropping of rock.  She blinked a few times when the light hit her eyes, but they soon adjusted.  When she looked around though, she immediately understood hen Frank had taken her there.

               All around them, the mountains rose up majestically.  The red, yellow and orange rock weaving patterns in the air like they came from a painters brush.  The sound of the river below them echoed among the great mountains.  She looked down a bit and saw the arches and pillars that the river had carved out over the eons, like some ancient sculptor.  Far off in the distance, she could see a wide field of various shades of green that came from the fields and forests that bordered the mountain range.  The sky was clear blue, with only a few wispy clouds the mar its mirror like surface.  Just on the horizon, she could even see a few smatterings of reds, golds, and oranges that came from the late afternoon sun that had only just started to set, but still with several hours of good light left in it.  The screech of a bird came to her ears, and she looked for the source, soon finding a large eagle soaring overhead.  The large bird landed on a nearby pillar of stone and rested there.  Deb couldn’t tell if it was sitting on some eggs or not though.

               “So, glad you came now?”  Frank asked.

               “Ok, yeah, it is pretty neat.”  Deb said.

               “Just wait though, it gets better?”

               “How?”

               “Wait till you see the sunset once it really kicks in.”  He sat down, folding his legs under him to make himself as comfortable as possible.

               “Er, sunset?  But that’s still a few hours away, isn’t it?”

               “Oh sure.”

               “And after that, it’ll be dark.”

               “Yup.”

               “So does that mean what I think it means?”

               “Sure does.  It’s too bad that we won’t be able to see the sun rise from here though, isn’t it?”

               Deb groaned in frustration as she slumped down on the rock.  This was going to be a long night.

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Everyone should be a little adventurous sometimes, even if it's only once in a lifetime.  There's some things that you just can't see on a screen after all.