Eleven-year-old Rory sits in the low crown of a walnut tree, her face turned down to a pad of paper on which she's contently sketching. Her nine-year-old brother, Mitchell is happily skipping in random patterns around the tree and in one hand is flying a silver rocket over his head. Each of them vocalize their respective endeavors into creation-
"Today is the big ball, and Cinderella is busy trying on her new dress that all the mice made for her with their little paws. Snow White busy in the kitchen baking pies and trying to get the dwarves to help straighten up. 'You sweep that floor, Grumpy!' 'But I don't want to sweep the dumb floor!' 'Now Grumpy, don't you want the palace to look nice when all the royal princes and princesses arrive? Even Peter Pan himself is going to be here!'"
"Ppppssssssssgggt! To Mars, to Mars! Ah! Asteroid! Watch out!"
Somehow their distinct fantasies synchronize harmoniously to fill the rows of walnut and orange trees that stretch out in every direction from where they play.
Drawn on Rory's pad are a pair of princesses- Snow White and Cinderella- each posing in their traditional outfits. Gus the mouse and Dopey the dwarf are there also. A palace upon a hill adorns the top of the drawing. The representations are nicely done and recognizable, even in the lines are a bit stiff.
Rory continues, now apparently addressing her brother more directly-
"This is the big ball extravaganza, for the new princess, Mitchell... remember?" She looks down at her brother to assure that she still has his attention.
Reminiscent of a bored Alice in mid-History lecture, Mitchell rolls his eyes and says "I'm listening". Then acting on a sudden though, and with a sneaky smiles he quips-
"You're more beautiful when you're asleep, ya know?"
"Shut up you."
Looking off through the trees, Mitchell's face suddenly turns anxious.
"Maybe we better start for home, mom will be mad."
Rory doesn't even look up from her drawings. "Ah, she's always mad, so what?"
Brushing off his sister's stubbornness, Mitchell says- "No, I think it's time to go, supper will be ready. Spaghetti tonight, remember?" This time his smile is one of eager anticipation.
"But I haven't... I haven't even gotten to the ball and where Prince Charming comes."
"Ah, your stories never end anyway. I'm leaving." Mitchell says with a dismissive wave of his hand as his rocket takes to the air again, then blasts off- trotting boy in toe- down the row of trees and back out of the grove.
With a soft sigh, Rory closes her sketch pad, hops down out of the tree and follows him at a more reluctant pace.
