The portal opened. A kaleidoscope of soft lights floated around me, humming like musical snowflakes. Each was unique and lifted my spirits, making me long for something I couldn’t quite touch. An image came to me of a quiet, secluded park where one might go with a best friend. The experience lasted until the musical snowflakes turned to bubbles and then dissipated. The soft mist lifted, revealing a display of endless flowers that covered everything.
The view in the woods was a glimpse of the garden that now spread in all directions. Greens, blues, reds, purples, oranges, and colors I didn’t have a name for covered the ground. The place looked like Oz. Maybe the Munchkins were hiding. All I needed was Toto— or a charming prince to kiss me so I would turn into a princess. Then I’d live happily ever after—except I wasn’t ready to get married—or maybe it was a frog I was supposed to kiss.
Where was I? The doorway had disappeared, but I noted it was near an alcove of diamonds. Colorful flowers covered the embankment. The rock I tripped over while chasing the dog mysteriously glowed. The sizzling letters carved into the surface spelled e-b-e-n-e-z-e-r.
“Much-Afraid!” I called her several times. I heard a female voice, but was it the dog speaking to me?
The grassy knoll was like a carpet in front of the hidden doorway. Surrounding the knoll were ribbons of more multi-colored, sun-loving plants—lavender catmint, zinnias and roses. Black-eyed Susan’s basked in the sun on the adjacent rolling hillside.
Along the pathway, crystal rocks, accented by clusters of smaller blooms, created a labyrinth of color and texture with alternating flowers and crystals. The large formations reflected the delicate blossoms where butterflies danced. The crystals seemed alive.
I squatted down to examine one. A distorted image emerged on the face of the crystal. I waited to see if it would materialize completely. Winged creatures flying around in a dark cave came into focus. Then I saw the white dog. Heavy ropes bound me as I sat on a rock slate. “No!” I cried—and the image dissolved. I staggered back from the rock and shook my head to erase the disturbing vision. What had seemed so perfect until now apparently wasn’t. I would stay away from the crystals.
I followed the trail lined with flowers. The double and triple blooming roses were striking—without the rust the flowers had in our yard. Other plants were more exotic looking. I couldn’t identify them.
As I strolled along, rose heads followed me like gyroscopes. When I stopped moving, they stopped. I reached over to pick one of the red blooms. As I bent the stem, a snake slithered though my fingers. I screeched and yanked back my hand. When I examined my fingers, they looked normal—no bite wounds, redness, or indication that something had touched me, but I could still feel the soft skin of a snake. The stem was indented where I had bent it.
Worry crept into my heart. Who brought me here and why? Was anyone watching?
I headed back to the grassy knoll spooked. I didn’t want to follow the path anymore, but distant voices from farther along the trail now piqued my curiosity. The voices came and went, rising and falling, though not loudly enough for me to hear what they were saying. Child-like laughter followed a deep male voice. Although I worried about what I might find, I couldn’t resist checking them out.
I walked several yards farther. Around a bend in the path, a long stairway was carved in the rocks. At the bottom lay Fifi. My heart skipped a beat, and a hot flash swept over me. Who was doing this? Why would I see that here?
As I stepped forward, the stairway faded. A descending path lined with more flowers sprouted up on both sides. I rubbed my eyes that seemed to be playing tricks on me. Did I want to keep going or head back? The doorway had vanished. Panic gripped me—whether I stayed or went back. Paralysis of thought swept through my emotions.
“Who’s there?” My voice seemed small and insignificant in the garden.
The trail opened to a large grove of apple trees. Unexpectedly, I spotted a large, gray donkey and a small white rabbit lounging under a tree. The donkey was warming himself on a brown blanket, staring up at the sky with his legs crossed. The rabbit, wearing a blue bonnet with white flowers poking out the top, sat perched on a rock. They looked like friends on a leisurely picnic.
I crept closer sneaking behind some blueberry bushes. The plump gray donkey with extra-long eyelashes had a brown knapsack beside him. He stuck his head into the bag and rummaged. The bunny jumped off the rock and onto the blanket. I gawked at the animals.
The fresh aroma of apples and blueberry aroused my appetite. I tasted a blueberry, but it was sour, so I spit it out.
The donkey pulled out a bright red apple and chomped down. “Yummy.” He rolled his eyes. “But I only have three left.”
The rabbit licked her fur and wiggled her nose. “You and your apples. Don’t you get tired of eating them?”
He took another bite. “Do you get tired of cleaning yourself?”
“Humph! Why would I get tired of that? I like to be pure white.”
“I feel like that about apples.”
“You like them to be pure white, too?”
The donkey twitched his tail. “No, that’s not what I mean. I mean I like to eat them.”
“How many donkeys eat apples?”
“How many have you met?”
The rabbit squinted. She held up her front paw as if indicating one—“Oh, my, a tiny speck of dirt.” She went back to her scrubbing.
The donkey burped. “Maybe I should save the rest for tomorrow.” He inspected the knapsack and twitched his ears. “I can’t wait.” He took one more and closed his eyes.
“Cool,” I said, under my breath, giggling quietly—a fat donkey and a silly, talking rabbit.
The pleasant sound of trickling water reached me, and I fell under its spell. I had forgotten about the strange apparitions when out of nowhere a gryphon—half-eagle and half-lion—sky-bombed me. The creature came within inches of my face, lunging at my eyes.
“Help me!” Falling forwards, I anticipated talon-like claws hooking into my back or head. Why had I worn a dress? I buried my face into my arms and waited, huddled in a ball, too terrified to look up. Nothing happened. When I peeked out, I didn’t see anything but a surprised donkey and startled rabbit staring at me.
Their curious looks miffed me. They could have done something to scare the creature away. I fumbled for words as I tried to catch my breath.
“A strange-looking bird attacked me. It came from that direction. Did you see it?”
The donkey shook his head. “Did you see anything?”
The rabbit laughed. “I saw an animal with two legs that rolled along the ground that scared the bejeebers out of me.”
“Humph.” I gawked at the rabbit who had insulted me. “You had to have seen it,” I exclaimed. “It was large, and part of it had legs like a beast and—he almost poked my eyes out. I pointed to the blueberry bushes where a white dove was preening. “He was in my face. Over there.”
The donkey finished chomping on another apple. “Who are you?
“How is it you can talk? Donkeys can’t talk.”
The donkey strolled up close to me, almost touching my face with his nostrils.
I slapped him across the nose. “How rude.” I jumped back. “You’re a smelly donkey at that.”
“I don’t smell,” the donkey retorted. “And, fortunately, you don’t either.”
“Of course I don’t smell.”
“I wanted to see if you smelled like an underling. Besides, you’re too pretty. You must be a princess.”
I wiped my face, even though he hadn’t actually touched me. “You need to mind your manners.”
“Heehaw. Who is the visitor here, you or me?”
What was the point of arguing? “Whatever.”
“You don’t smell like an underling. You must be a princess,” the donkey insisted.
I scoffed. “A princess? What do you know about princesses?”
“If you’re going to insult me, you can go someplace else.”
I glared at the donkey that seemed to be doing his best to irritate me. I stomped my foot. “I didn’t like you being so close to me—and I sure don’t like being smelled. It’s insulting.”
“I wanted to sniff you—to see if you had that stench on you.”
“I don’t smell.”
“But the underlings do,” retorted the donkey.
“What are you talking about?”
The rabbit wiggled her nose. “You aren’t as pretty when you have a scowl on your face.”
“What?” I touched my face as her words sunk in. How could a rabbit make me feel so irritable?
“I’m not angry,” I shouted.
The two of them exchanged glances. “Are you sure she’s not an underling in disguise?” the rabbit asked.
“An underling? What’s that? And where in the universe am I?”
The donkey shook himself—like a dog shaking off water— arched his neck, and held his head high. He spoke like an orator. “You’re in the king’s garden, where it’s always light and never dark—except when the underlings sneak in and steal what doesn’t belong to them. Beyond the river and the forest is the king’s palace—a mansion on the mountain where you’re always welcomed. Never a stranger has visited the king.”
“Are you a princess?” the rabbit asked.
“I’m no princess, although I wish I was.”
The gullible creatures displayed an innocence that was disarming. Where on the planet did talking animals exist? Surely, Disney would have discovered them.
“What are you doing here?” the donkey asked.
My anger had melted so I told them my strange story, ending with the elusive dog. “She disappeared in an invisible doorway, and I can’t find her.”
The donkey’s eyes got wide. “A doorway? I came through a gate guarded by an angel with a flaming sword. I was afraid, but the king called my name.”
“Someone called my name, too.”
“I hope you find your dog, little lady. I haven’t seen one in the garden. We have a brown puppy that comes around to play with Cherios.”
“My name is Shale,” I corrected. “Not little lady.”
“Pardon me, but you seem bossy for a girl.”
I glared at him. “Don’t donkeys say something like heehaw? I’d like you better if you were a normal donkey.”
“I am normal. I have a larger vocabulary than heehaw.”
How could an obstinate, fat donkey with extra-long eyelashes get me so upset? “You’re rude, in case you didn’t know it.”
The donkey softened his words. “I once had a friend like your dog—sweet and all white, back in the cave at the grand estate of my former master.”
“And I bet your name is Baruch, huh?” I said sarcastically.
“Yes, that’s the name the king gave me.”
I shook my head. “I admit you look like that other donkey in the book—gray with a white belly, and a fat one at that—even the extra-long eyelashes. Of course, I’ve never met a donkey. Was the name of your friend Much-Afraid?”
Baruch’s eyes lit up. “How did you know?”
The white bunny wiggled her nose. “Where did you say you’re from? Most of the king’s animals don’t come to our part of the garden. You seem to know a lot about the king’s animals.”
“She’s a girl,” corrected Baruch. “Not an animal.”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. A pretty girl.”
I did a slight curtsy. All the similarities to my favorite book when I was young seemed more than strange—an outlandish tale of fantasy and mystique. I shook my head—was I dreaming? There must be an explanation.
I put my hand on my chest. My heart was beating. I blew on my hand, and cool air hit my palm. I was alive. How could all of these strange things be happening?
The rabbit hopped up beside me holding a white flower in her mouth. She had pulled it off her bonnet.
I gently took the flower out of the rabbit’s mouth. “Is this for me?”
“Your present,” the rabbit said.
I blew on the blossom, and the petals, carried along by the breeze, floated away. I scratched her behind the ear. “Thank you.”
“Cherios.” She pointed to her white fluffy chest. “I’m a garden bunny.”
I patted her head, and she planted a kiss on my cheek.
Baruch stomped his hind legs. “Why can she kiss you, and I can’t even get close to you?”
“Because she’s a cute rabbit.”
Baruch showed his white teeth in a pretentious smile.
“Besides, you’re a male—go find a female donkey.”
Baruch hung his head apologetically. “I want you to like me.”
“Well, I do like you. I just—I grew up in the city. I’m not used to being around donkeys.”
Neither one of us said anything for a minute—we had gotten off to a bad start.
Baruch changed the subject. “Tell me more about that book with the donkey.”
I shrugged. “One day I found it on my bookshelf. Mother never bought me books because we didn’t have any money.”
Baruch’s lopsided ears perked up. “Keep going.”
“You ran away—sort of like me—and met a powerful king.”
“And—”
An imminent coughing attack tickled my throat. “I’m thirsty. Can we get some water? And then I’ll tell you the rest.”
We meandered through tropical ferns, shady plants, and water oaks with delicate moss gracing the branches. The winding trail opened up to a clearing that led to a sandy beach bordering a luminescent river. Water lilies floated in the middle where lazy turtles had fallen asleep on a log that stretched across to the other side. They plopped into the river as we approached. The ripples spread out to the water’s edge and lapped the sandy beach. I peered at my reflection.
“What’s wrong?” Baruch asked.
“Nothing, but my hair is a tangled mess.” I lifted the long strands over my head and rolled them into a bun. Then I caught movement among the tree canopy. Several dozen crows had gathered—spooky-like because there were so many. I couldn’t ignore their loud, irritating cackles.
Baruch squinted and blinked his long eyelashes several times. “The crows have returned.”
“Oh, dear, oh, dear.” Cherios hopped about in a circle, wringing her paws. “I don’t like it when the crows return.”
Chapter six
BANISHED FROM THE GARDEN