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The skeletons in the bird’s memories weren’t as easy to dispose of as those that littered her life, but she shook them to the dark bottom of her mind with a noisy, full body feather ruffling.
“I beg your pardon. Where are my manners?” she asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Welcome. I’m Yvonne. And you are—?”
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“Plummeting is not an altogether unpleasant sensation,” Elliot thought as they fell into the chilly night. “If I didn’t know how it has to end, I might be enjoying it.” He was beyond panic, and the sight of Cassandra tumbling beside him left him feeling only regret.
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Humiliated and furious, the Holy Man of the Holy Mansion took a howling swipe at Cassandra, slicing her neck with his jagged arm.
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From his painfully prone point of view, Elliot caught a glimpse of the underside of the overhang above the stranger’s head — there hung Cassandra, suctioned to the rock.
As the edges of her foot began to curl under, Elliot understood her plan. He had to give her time. He had to make sure the stranger stayed where he was.
Before Elliot could speak, more little green guys leaped from their circle to join the Brother on Elliot’s back. Horrified, Elliot felt them all tugging on his shell, dislodging it bit by bit, exposing his soft vulnerability.
Elliot hadn’t much time left to give.
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“Please allow me to introduce you to a few Members of the Brotherhood of the Holy Mansion. They are here to collect your Donation.”
Scritchy-scratchy tiptoes scraped from every crack and crevice as tiny green versions of the large orange stranger closed in on Elliot in a creeping, tightening circle. He swiveled his eye stalks wildly searching for Cassandra. He didn’t find her. She must have escaped, he thought. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her! But he kept looking. He needed to be sure.
The stranger stepped up onto a rocky outcrop against the far granite wall beneath a sheltering overhang, and observed the scene with a look of beneficence.
“Little Brothers!” he called, “The Great Spirit Man’Tis, Granter of Prayers, is well pleased with the Work you have done so far. Now, in answer to our Prayers, he brings us yet another Gift — a fine, if smallish, Donation of Construction Materials! This Child of the World, heavy with the World’s Burdens, has come here of his own Free Will. It is your Job to relieve him of the Weight he bears and transfer it to our Hallowed Hill of Shells.”
“Wait!” Elliot yelled. “I’m not giving you my home!”
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“And how,” Elliot began, “might we be of service to you?” Out of the corner of his mouth, he whispered to Cassandra, “Get ready to run!”
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Side by side, Cassandra and Elliot followed the lowering sun. They laughed their way through a grassy meadow, slipping over broad ribbons of green, sharing stories of childhoods so vastly different Elliot knew they created an entirely new world by weaving their tales together. The future spread before them, a blank tapestry awaiting their design.
He was happy. Every breath was blissful proof that love was more than an ideal to dream of; it was as real as life itself, and he deserved Cassandra’s gift of eternal love just as surely as it was his destiny to bestow his unending love upon her.
Nothing would ever part them.
“Excuse me, my young friends,” a silky voice called to them from the lengthening shadows. “Might a weary Traveler trouble you for a little assistance along the Road?”
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“There’s something I must do before we leave,” Cassandra announced. “Would you mind making one stop?”
“Of course not! Just tell me which direction to go.” Elliot couldn’t believe his recent trials had led him here. There was no way he was going to mess this up.
“Just beyond the mossy knoll, and then behind the fern, you’ll see a tall stalk not quite ready to bloom. That’s where we have to go. I need to say goodbye to my mother.”
Elliot was glad Cassandra couldn’t see his face; his smile had disappeared as he bit his lips, nervous about what her mother might say. Would she think he was a cad and a bounder? Would she try to talk her daughter out of going with him? Would she take away his one chance for love? Would she ruin his life?
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Elliot’s touch was as soft as breath, as gentle as love, but it did not resurrect the divine creature laid out before him. He wept.
Juliet leaned her head against James’ neck, her own tears flowing.
“Hey, Jules,” James wrapped his wing around her, “maybe that CPA stuff you do can, like, help her. You know, like you helped the little guy.”
“You mean CPR?” she asked, looking up at him with bemused affection.
“Sure, whatever.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late.”
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One by one, the ducks bobbed upright aiming toward the mossy knoll. Unable to see their faces, Elliot waited, anxiety swelling within his chest, squeezing his frozen heart with an iron fist of dread.
Space, Time, and Raspberries 
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