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Moms View Message Board: Short Stories, Poetry and Articles : The Lullaby Of Love Part 1
By B. V. Dahlen © His cage was polished brass, placed on the hearth by the fireplace. His food was plentiful, and came twice a day without fail. Surely he was the luckiest cricket in the world. He often saw other crickets there in the bedroom but felt no envy. They were a motley bunch, starving and ragged, often ending their days as playthings for the palace cats. His master, Melchior, had named him Ling. Often in the evening, the Master would talk to him and feed him personally. The cricket was proud when his master praised him for his soothing night songs. The palace had been buzzing for days with preparations. Master Melchior was leaving on a long journey. Ling overheard the servants discussing the trip as they packed. "Following a star? Are you sure that's what he said?" They were mystified. It was common knowledge that the Master spent long hours each evening on the parapet of the castle studying the constellations. Although they thought this behavior odd, he was the Prince, and his actions were never questioned. "But why would anyone try to follow a star?" The little cricket was worried. Except for Melchior no one paid much attention to him. If the Master was gone, he could starve there locked in the shining cage. Who would care for him? The morning of the great journey dawned, and as the servants carried the baggage to the waiting camels, Ling realized that he was being left behind. He was frantic. He threw himself against the door of the cage again and again. No one notices him. He chirped as loudly as he was able, but could not make himself heard above the chattering of the busy serving women. He became desperate as he saw the last of the bags being readied. He made one final lunge. The cage went over, on to it's side, and off the edge of the hearth. The latch gave a click. He pushed against it, and it sprang open. He was free. He jumped swiftly to the nearest bag. Scurrying up the side he ducked under a flap just as a servant hoisted it to his shoulder and carried it out the door. Ling was shaken and very frightened. What was to become of him now that he was on his own? He felt the bag thump down and soon was bouncing about. The rhythm was constant and the little insect was weary from excitement. He was soon rocked to sleep. He awoke with a jolt as the bag was lifted down. Tentatively, he pushed open the flap and looked out. It was night. Nearby were fires and the babble of voices. He was very hungry and wondered how he was going to find his evening meal. Carefully he climbed from the saddle bag and hopped closer to one of the fires, but giant feet crashed down all around him threatening to squash him at any second. "This will not work", he thought as he spied a rock that could offer some protection. With two great hops he was behind it and safe at last. "Hey, This is my rock. Who do you think you're shoving?" a voice growled in the darkness. With that, a gray snout covered with whiskers poked out of the shadows. The tiny insect gulped and tried to sound dignified and important. "I am Ling, royal cricket of the hearth to Master Melchior." "Ling who? Royal What?" questioned the owner of the bristling snout. "This is my rock, not a royal hearth and you can keep moving pal." A much more humble Ling pleaded, "If I step out there they'll step on me. Please let me stay." Now two tiny eyes followed the snout out of the shadows. "A cricket? "Did you say a royal cricket"? Ling quickly told his story. The mouse was incredulous. "You lived in a cage and a human fed you?" "Yes, and I have no idea what to do now. I can't find my master's tent among so many without being stepped on. I'm so hungry and afraid. Please let me stay. I'll be very quiet and I promise I won't bother you at all." begged the little cricket. "Oh, all right, stay if you like. I won't be here much longer anyway." "As soon as the fires die down I'll be busy getting my dinner." With the word "DINNER" Ling looked up. "But who feeds you?" he asked. "No one feeds me," growled the mouse. "I can take care of myself." Ling looked at him with new respect. "How do you feed yourself sir?' "It's easy," the mouse boasted. "When they have finished their meal and go to sleep, I simply go out and gather what has been dropped." "Do you think that I could do that also? Would there be enough for me?" asked Ling, his stomach growling in anticipation. "There will be enough for twenty mice and twenty crickets," answered the mouse. "I'll show you how it's done. Now be quiet and wait." Not long after, the fires were only glowing embers and the milling servants retired to their beds. "Now we can eat, but go quickly," cautioned the mouse. The two crept tentatively from behind the rock. Near the warmth of the closest fire pit they found more food than either could eat. After stuffing themselves and gathering a little extra for a midnight snack, they retired to the sheltering rock. "That was easy," giggled Ling. "Thank you for your help Mr. ......?" "Mespar" finished the mouse. "The name is Mespar." "Thank you Mr. Mespar. I would have been lost without your guidance." "No problem," the mouse assured him. "Now tell me again why you are here and where this caravan is going" Ling told his new friend about his life in the palace and of the journey that his master had undertaken. "How much room is there in this bag of your's?" questioned Mespar. "Oh lots." replied Ling. "After this caravan moves on in the morning it might be a while before the next comes through", mused the mouse, "It's so much easier this way than finding dinner out in the desert alone. How would you like a traveling companion?" Ling was pleased. He realized that he was very ignorant of life outside a cage, and besides in his own gruff way Mespar was nice. He was all alone and he sorely needed a friend. They agreed and snuggled down together under the protective rock for the night. Before the sun was up Mespar was nudging the cricket from his slumber. "Come on. We have to get our fill before they are up and about." They scampered back to the cooking pits, gathered up as much as they could hold and carried it to the saddle bag. They were soon up, under the flap and cozy in a soft corner between two ornate boxes. They ate their breakfast slowly, and soon after were shaken as the bag was lifted and slung across a camel. They were on their way. For many weeks the two traveled, talked, searched for food and helped each other. Ling grew more confident as he learned from Mespar how to take care of himself. Mespar in turn grew to love the little cricket. He enjoyed teaching him how to survive in the world and also learned from his new friend about the wonders and beauty Ling had known at the palace. Ling no longer tried to seek his master's tent. He had found that freedom was worth much more than a warm cage and regular meals. For the first time in his life he had a friend. He tried to show his gratitude in the only way he knew. He sang for Mespar each evening as he had for his master, but now the song was even more soothing and sweet as it was sung with love.
Bea, I want to say that I can clearly "see" your story because of the way you have written it. I can't wait for the next chapter. You are so creative, it kills me!
Ditto everything Amy said
Yes, you are creative Bea!
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