Fiction Friday - The Gnarly Old Tree

Everyone was in the car ready to go home when Liam exclaimed, "My phone! I can't find it!" His parents exchanged a look before turning around to face the kids in the back seat. "Where did you see it last?"

His face twisted in a blend of worry and confusion. "I don't know. I'm sorry." At eleven, Liam and his twin sister were on a trial run with these cell phones, mostly so the kids wouldn't get lost during this family trip. 

His sister Lianna never looked up from the puzzle game on hers. "You took that picture on the way down. Some tree."

Liam had been using his phone to try his hand at photography. "Oh yeah! That gnarly old dead-looking thing! It made me think of Halloween." Even in the relief of remembering, the strain showed in his face. "It's near the top of the hill."

His dad nodded in resignation. "Well, that's a place to start looking. We'd better go before it gets dark."

"All of us?" Lianna whined.

"No." He got out of the car, then leaned in and addressed Liam. "Come on, Sport; let's get stepping." Then to his wife, "You guys might want to wait in the visitors' center."

Up by the "gnarly old dead-looking" tree, the phone was nowhere to be found. "It's gotta be somewhere, son. You used it here. Let's go back down more slowly, and search the area around the path as we go." As they went, Liam kept stopping to check places he might have paused to take pictures.

Nothing.

He was on the verge of tears when they reached the parking lot. He read blame in his father's eyes. 

"You're sure you put the phone away after that photo?" The question was unnecessary. The whole family had seen Liam zip his phone away after every holiday snapshot or video. Lianna had taken to calling him an old man every time he did it.

Hope bloomed in Liam's eyes as his head bobbed rapidly. "Of course. Always." He watched his dad do something on his own cell phone. Liam didn't interrupt. Dad was on it. Dad could fix anything. He was like magic that way.  

Then his dad frowned at his phone. Glancing at Liam he said, "Let's go find your mom and sister." 

Inside the Visitors' Center, Dad ordered both kids ice-cream sundaes and had a whispered conversation with Mom.

"How did it get there?"

"We'd better ask if we can..." Liam was too focused on his ice-cream to notice his dad cringe at his mom's suggestion. Dad walked away. Soon he was back with a park ranger in an impressive green uniform.

The ranger watched Liam's face as his dad questioned him. Dad showed the screen of his phone to Liam. "It's okay, you're not in trouble, but how did your phone get here?" The cell-phone screen showed a map of the area. In a wide green section far from the path they had just walked, a little red dot was blinking on and off. "I don't know," Liam said. 

"Did you leave the path, son?"

"No! I don't even know where that is!"

Lianna had squeezed in to see. She jumped to his defense. "We were talking most of the way down. Even if he stepped off the path, he couldn't have got that far without me noticing." For once, Liam was grateful for her incessant teasing.

"You weren't playing a game? Throwing things? Maybe it was an accident?"

"I wouldn't accidentally throw my phone!" His dad angled his eyes to Lianna.

"Nuh-uh! I'm not that stupid!" she protested. Suddenly defiant, she asked, "Wait a minute, why did you guys waste all that time re-hiking the trail if you knew where it was?"

"I didn't turn on the Find-It app until Liam had searched for himself. You kids need to take responsibility if you're going to get cell phones permanently." Before either of them could respond, he switched gears. "Now, Ranger Stevens is going to go with us to look for it in this area. That grassland is protected." 

Lianna's eyes had stayed on the phone while her dad spoke. "Wait. It moved. It just jumped!"

They all looked. The blinking dot had shifted several hundred yards north. 

Dad stared at the screen. "That far? That's not possible." 

Ranger Stevens turned to Lianna. "What do you mean, jumped?"

She pointed at the phone impatiently. "It was there, and then it was there." 

Liam was frantic. "I haven't been out there!"

"We know," his sister said.

The dot moved again.

"Well..." Stevens adjusted his utility belt. "Let's go check it out." Liam went to follow his dad and the ranger, but the ranger turned to him. "Sorry kid, not you. Just your dad."

Liam watched as another ranger joined them outside the big glass doors. As he sat back down with his mother and sister, he saw the dot on his mom's Find-It app move once more.

To Be Continued...

This story was inspired by a young boy in my English Club who lost his phone and found it in a strange place. 

Wednesday Poetry Corner: Lazy Cat

Beaker chills below.
Airborne army nests above.
Why won't he stop them? 

(Haiku written by me September 2, 2026)

The lazy cat in question

Bird in the rafters. See it? (They kept flying away when I'd come out.)

This was inspired by seeing Beaker loafing on my yoga mat, while a cacophony of birds building their nests rang through our upper story. How do I know they were building nests? Because in recent days, I've been seeing nest-building debris littering the stairs up to the second floor.

We knew the house was open to birds when we moved in. In fact, Brett removed an abandoned nest within days of our taking occupancy. It's okay. I call this architectural style a sort of "Industrial Chic," and the upstairs definitely has that "abandoned warehouse" feel to it. (Great for breezes! Open to wildlife!)

At first, the birds really irritated me, but I realized it's not healthy to be irritated all the time. I still don't love their chatter, but I've decided to take the view that we've simply moved into a summer camp building for the next few years! 

The top of the stairs, and an example of our warehouse-ian view.

 

Monday Coffee Klatch: To All the Books I've Loved Before

Just for variety, I want to introduce you to a coffee shop I don't love. This place is a back-up coffee shop for me. The coffee is ... okay. Croissants are good. Apparently, their specialty is churros, which I haven't yet tried. 

On the plus side, they have comfy seating and a super-convenient location if I was going to meet someone. 

But really, I only come here when I've walked down to my favorite place only to find that it is closed for some random reason, which, as a mom and pop shop, is a respectable choice even if a little inconvenient for me sometimes. This place is around the corner and a few doors down, so I haven't wasted my walk.

Less cute view, wimpier coffee, but comfy.

Now, regarding The Books That Got Away!

I've complained before about losing books due to moving overseas. It's one of those critical, difficult decisions. They're heavy, they take up space, and with internet access, it's hard to convince yourself the physical book is critical.

In years past, I've given away a LOT of books.

Sometimes I tried to make sure they went to someone who would really appreciate them. If I had a whole collection by an author, I'd post online: Does anybody love this author? I've got the complete set and I'd be happy to send it to you! Because if someone loves the books, I'd much rather see them go to a good home than break up the set.

I've also donated plenty to thrift stores, and later to the library where my sister worked.

And honestly, I'm glad most of those books found new homes.

But every now and then, I wish I still had certain ones.

The recent culprit is Gregory Maguire. After watching Wicked and Wicked: For Good, I found myself wishing I still had my collection of his books. I'd read all of them at least once, and they're wonderfully written, although VERY different from the light, funny version presented in the stage musical. Maguire's version of Wicked is dark.

Those I could replace fairly easily, since I could get them electronically and put them on my Kindle.

I also had a biography of Alec Guinness that I'd ordered through a book club. I never actually got around to reading it before I gave it away. Now, every time I watch a movie with Alec Guinness in it, I think, I wish I still had that book.

I know I could replace that one, too.

But then there are the books I can't really replace.

I once had a hardcover edition of Beowulf, with a new English translation on one page and the original Old English on the facing page. I think it was published sometime in the 1990s. I love multi-language books. (I have several English+Chinese ones now, and used to have a copy of Faust in English+German.) I think the dual language gives me hope that I'll up my linguistic game.

But for me the biggest loss is my original Star Wars trilogy written as Shakespeare plays. My sister gave me one of these lovely hardcover books for Christmas or my birthday three years in a row. They were beautifully illustrated, and the language was part of the fun. (Sci-fi iambic pentameter except Yoda, whose lines were written in haiku.😄) I could probably find electronic versions somewhere, but I don't think I'd enjoy them nearly as much that way. 

Because sometimes it's not just the book you miss.

It's that book.

The particular edition. The illustrations. The feel of it. The memory of where it came from.

The hard fact is that when you have to reduce your possessions to what is genuinely practical, you sometimes end up giving away things that weren't practical, but were precious.

Have you lost a favorite book to time or location or circumstance? What do you miss about it?

Friday Fiction? No

I have a story almost ready to post, but my internet is giving me fits today. The story is handwritten. I can't even put it in blogger. 

I'm sending this from the app on my phone, but I'm not about to try accurately writing a story with one finger on a cell-phone keyboard!

This is the second day of it. I might be screwed. Send good vibes and prayers at this trying time. 😉

Wednesday Poetry Corner: Petrichor

Smell of petrichor,
Grey above the green palm fronds,
Nature's gifts abound.

(Haiku written by me on Aug. 26, 2026) 

 

Coffee Klatch - Beer Edition!

Coffee and books are a natural pairing. Give me a quiet garden, delicious coffee, an uninterrupted hour or two in the morning, and I'm happy.

But sometimes it's evening, and coffee isn't what I'm after. Sometimes I want a beer. And I want to take my book with me.

There's something comfortable about reading at my local. My usual seat faces out toward the street, where I can catch the breeze, watch the world go by, and enjoy being out in public while staying in my own little world.

No Kindle in this picture, but you get the idea

 

Which brings me to one of my favorite inventions for an international traveler: the e-reader. I happen to use a Kindle these days, but I'm not particularly loyal to the brand. The important thing is that it holds a library without weighing anything like an actual library.

A big advantage of bringing your e-reader to a bar? Anonymity.

A physical book invites conversation, and as much as I enjoy bookish chats at times, I do not crave that kind of attention in a bar. With my Kindle, nobody knows what I'm reading, and nobody asks.

Now, I know a lot of women feel self-conscious about going out alone, so allow me to suggest one more big bonus of the e-reader: it acts as a sort of social shield! Bar, restaurant, coffee shop, wherever you are - with your Kindle, you're not alone, and you don't look it. You're reading.

Nobody questions it. 

At least, I don't think they do. I'm too busy reading to notice what anyone else is doing. And maybe that's the point. 

There are plenty of reasons to go out alone. You don't need an excuse or companion. All you need is a good book, drink of your choice, and if you're lucky, a seat with a breeze. 

Fiction Friday - Need To Know

"Have you seen your sister lately?"

Beckett hid his instinctive "freeze" response by looking up as if in thought. "Not really. Why? Should I have?" He turned a passably curious look toward his mother. She was preparing dinner and he had come into the kitchen to grab a can of Monster from the fridge before returning to his work in the basement.

His mom wasn't actually looking at him, but said to the vegetables she was washing, "I know she's old enough to do what she wants, but it's been a few weeks since she's called. I thought maybe you ran into her during one of your campus runs."

"Nah, sorry." He shook his head and closed the fridge door, anxious to get back to his fortress. He should have graduated last year, but got a lucrative job with a digital company and now worked more hours than he studied. One class per term, with a hard push over the holidays, and he should get his degree next spring. 

He was almost out of the kitchen when his mom added, "Well, keep your eyes open for me, will you? I know she has friends around there." Beckett raised his can in a toast of agreement, hoping she saw it. He didn't dare turn to face her and risk giving up the game. 

Sascha was on the run. He hadn't lied to his mother. Not exactly. Personally, he hadn't seen her for a month, but since becoming a Gatekeeper for the "Hidden Kitty" underground movement, he was aware of her progress through coded second-hand messages.

Neither Beckett nor Sascha liked keeping their mom in the dark. She had always been a supporter of Sascha's... difference. But when laws began changing against different innocent segments of the population, her head had stayed firmly in the sand. "Just because they've outlawed this one type of person," she would tell Sascha, "Doesn't mean that someone like you is in danger." 

Sascha disagreed and wasn't willing to risk it. When they came after a group, they came suddenly. When they started coming for people "like her", it would be too late to formulate a back-up plan. 

Fortunately, Beckett was still active at the university. Sascha had graduated and moved on, but had heard about a rebellion growing there. Together they found the right people who could help her.

As she prepared to go into hiding through Hidden Kitty's network, they realized their mom would not only be a liability to Sascha, but would herself be in danger. They had to keep her out of it. During the weeks of Sascha's prep, Beckett had become more involved with the organization. Now he was in a position to send and receive the coded messages. 

Sascha was safe at the moment. Mom was worried. Beckett could stop the worry, but at the risk to countless others in positions like Sascha. Small price to pay.