Dragonfly Web: Whitestuff

Two | Don't Leave Me!

In all of her ten years, Ciara hadn't found a single thing she loved more than Whitestuff. Her greatest wish was that he would heal his wing and be able to fly again. Together Ciara and Whitestuff enjoyed the life of the marsh and the farm.

The moment Ciara woke up in the morning, she would dash to the the best patch of water and suck up more algae to feed him through the length of a reed. She knew how to safely do this from school, by using an extra long tube attached to the reed so she wouldn't get sick. Then, she'd climb up the tree to peek under the leaf she'd protected the dragonfly with, and move her hand ever so gently into the fluff, to coax the tiny front legs onto her finger.

"Good morning! Come on!"

Whitestuff would climb on her hand, and try to flutter. Ciara would watch him and tell him a story.

Every afternoon, when her classes were over, she'd jump off the bus, before doing her chores and rush to get nutrients Whitestuff might need. She hoped he'd grow and get healthy and mend.

For the first week or two, as he got better, Ciara created a platform of sticks so he could sit in the sunlight in a place she'd noticed the sun fell onto a perfect spot, for the afternoon's warmth.

Then one sunny day, as Ciara sat with her book leaning back on a branch, reading her homework to Whitestuff, she saw him crawl to a nook between several branches. It worried her because there was a big hollow space on the other side of the trunk. "No, don't go in there! I might lose you," she cried out, balancing her book on a rock so that she could scramble over to him.

The space was dark—too dark for her to see. "Whitestuff? Are you in there? Where are you? Come on!" She saw him shimmer and blew out a deep breath. "Whew. There you are."

Slowly, light brightened the space in the tree and she saw something much larger move. "Oh, no! Something lives there! Whitestuff, come back! Come here, quickly!" But then the lights she'd seen flared and went out with no sign of her dragonfly friend. She called his name again.

She didn't want to put her hand in. Something inside the tree-hole was mewling and crawling around. Ciara didn't know what it could be, and she was scared to put her hand in, in case it was dangerous.

It didn't look like a dragonfly, or a crow either, for that matter. But its color was very pale.

"Whitestuff?"

Out of the dark, at first came a nose—more properly, a snout. There were nostrils and a wet pad to the nose, just like a miniature deer or a calf, but the nose was quite white and the creature seemed scaly. Then a head poked out, a little bit further.

"Hello! Who are you? You're only a baby."

The biggest, and somehow familiar, round eyes looked into her own. They were timid, but loving.

"Helloooo," she breathed, taken by it. "Are you frightened? Can you come any closer? I want to see you. I wouldn't hurt you. Oh, my! You are a baby. What are you? You can't be!" As the creature came further out of the hole, Ciara got a much better view.

"You— You look like a dragon!"

The whitest creature she'd ever seen, the size of a cat, now came from the space in the tree.

"Oh, my. Are you? You can't be. "

One little clawed foot clutched onto her finger.

"Oh!"

Then two—

—And she realized—

"Whitestuff? But, what—? How did you—? Oh, dear, what happened to your wings?"

Ciara peeked further into the hole. In there it was dark, but she could see two shortened stubs where his wings should have been.

"You're hurt. It's worse this time—"

The moment she put her hand in, the light flashed again. Then, she blinked, stared to focus, and felt his poor little body shudder and the wings sprout, widen as he pushed out into the light, and lifted—

˜ ˜ ˜

Arvy, riding his bike in the lane, had seen the light flash. He thought he saw Ciara fall into the stream and shouted in fear. "Ciara!"

When she didn't answer, he went for help. "Mom! Come quick!"

But Ciara was not in the stream when the Runyons all looked. Ciara had totally gone.

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