Found

I’m in the mood to write. After scouring the internet for blog topic ideas and finding everything from making a top ten list to ranting about current events, I decided to try a different approach. I googled “creative writing prompts.” Bingo! I found enough resources for teachers, students, and bloggers alike to keep me busy forever!

What I wound up doing didn’t even come from one of the prompts, though there were so many good ones. I’ll at least have plenty of ideas for future blog posts!

One day, while sitting in a used book co-op I came across a book called FOUND. In it, there are pictures of items (letters, photos, etc.) found. Check out the website to see what I mean.

Anyway, for some reason that book came to mind while I was trying to find inspiration and I decided to pick a found item and write a story about it.  The picture below is the found item.

I sat watching Jacob, my eight year old brother try to tie a homemade “rocket” to Cheshire, our orange cat.

“Make sure you bring me back a moon rock. OK, Chess?” he said. The cat glared menacingly.

 

The outside of rocket consisted of a discarded piece of PVC pipe  (with a small decorative broom tied to it) as the body,  a small funnel held to the top with gorilla glue as a nose cone, and a Fourth of July Sparkler as the fuse. He had been working on this thing for days. He was so certain that he could send Cheshire into outer space.

Cheshire, though clearly not pleased with the idea of having something tied to him, was surprisingly contained. He suffered silently, perhaps hoping that if he didn’t kill the boy, he would be rewarded with Fancy Feast. He looked at me pleadingly.

 

“Jake,” I said, “Don’t you think that poor cat has suffered enough? He really doesn’t need to go to outer space.”
“No. He does,” Jacob said, without looking up at me.

“He’s never even been past the front porch,” I reasoned, “What makes you think he can handle space?”

“Don’t worry. I told him everything. He knows what to do.”

“How will he get back?”

“Hitch a ride with the astronauts.”

“What if he gets lost?”

“He won’t.”

“Ok. What if he gets caught in a meteor shower?”

“Well…” he hesitated, “See, this front part is supposed to turn so he can go around the meteors, but I couldn’t make it do it.”

“So….”

“So… if he sees a meteor shower, he’ll just stop until it’s out of the way.”

Adult logic wouldn’t work on this kid. There was no way for me to get it through to him that a cat-rocket couldn’t stop mid-space. As far as he could see, his plan was perfect. I was determined to make him see some kind of a hole.

“How will he breathe?” I asked.

Jake reached behind him and pulled out a plastic fishbowl. He popped it on to the cat’s head.

“Oh jeez!” I said, “Listen, Jacob. This won’t work. You can’t send Cheshire into space. Especially not on that thing you call a rocket.”

He finally looked at me.

‘Shit…’ I thought.

His face turned red, tears welled up, and he wailed. The kid’s got pipes, let me tell you! He probably woke up people in Australia.

“Oh, come on, Jake.” I said soothingly, “There’s no reason to cry…”

He looked so pathetic with his face all red and soggy, but he finally let go of the cat.

Cheshire ran faster than I’d ever seen him run.

Jake screeched something unintelligible and stomped off to his room.

‘Oh well,’ I thought, ‘He’ll get over it.’

I went into the bathroom and took a shower that was so relaxing I quite forgot the incident.

When I came out of the steamy bathroom, I found the house far too quiet.

I wandered around, calling out to my cat and my brother and receiving no answer from either. I looked in closets and under beds with no luck.

Then it occurred to me.

I ran out the back door into our fenced in yard. Jake was sitting on the ground and staring at the bright red cat scratches on his arm.

“Where’s Cheshire?” I asked in my “Pissed off mom” tone.

“In space,” he told me, “He scratched me.”

He held up his arm for me to see.

“You probably deserved it,” I said, “What do you mean he’s in space?”

“I lit the rocket. I closed my eyes so the take-off explosion wouldn’t blind me,” Jake explained, “Then Chess was gone. He must be halfway to Venus by now!”

“Go inside and wash your arm. I’m going to find the cat,” I fumed.

“He’s in SPACE!” he yelled as if I was a complete idiot.

I found Cheshire the next morning, hiding under the blueberry bush.  His tail was singed, as well as the fur on his back, and he looked mad as hell.  I pulled the fishbowl from his headn and untied the rocket from his back.  In his eyes, I was a savior.