Spring’s Golden Light

Spring’s Golden Light

By Intricate Knot

“Pouring through our windows and doors, straight into our hearts,
All but one of us danced and sang
Welcoming Spring’s Golden Light…”

“You want me to do what?”

“Let me in, Wilbur and I’ll tell you.”
Impatiently Wilbur motioned Fiddler into his abode and then stood, his black wings folded across his chest.

“Well?”

“Well, we need your help.”

“We?”

“Yes, Loy and I.”

“Aloysius? And why should he need our help? He hasn’t asked for our help since-”

“Yep, since then.”

“Why-”

“Are you sure you want to ask that question?”
Thinking for a moment, Wilbur quickly shook his head,

“No, I suppose not. So, we are to help decorate eggs, then? Just like-”

“Before, yes.”

“I do wish you would stop finishing my sentences, Fiddler. It’s getting quite annoying. I’ll get my floppy-painting-the-eggs hat.” And with that Wilbur stomped upstairs.

Fiddler-the-Cat knew that Wilbur would help. He just knew that with that help came Wilbur’s peevish owly-ravenish ways. Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re magically part owl and part raven. Fiddler wouldn’t know, as he was purely, magically black silky cat. What? You think the services of these magical fellows are only needed during the Halloween season? Hardly. These two are kept busy year-round. Saving holidays left and right, that’s what these two do. The only difference was, Wilbur liked to complain: often and heartily. Whereas Fiddler just preferred to get on with. The sooner the deed was done, the sooner he could get back to hunting, playing his fiddle, or curling up on his porch with a good book on a lovely, Spring day such as today and perhaps taking a nap. Cats are famous for their napping, you know.

Wilbur returned wearing a ridiculous canvas hat that looked like a cross between a safari helmet and a bee keepers bonnet. Very strange. However, being accustomed to Wilbur’s penchant for odd hats, Fiddler (wearing his perfectly respectable witch hat) made no remark.
On their way out the door though, Fiddler stopped Wilbur,

“Good Naps! I nearly forgot. We’ll need some of your mani-sparkles.”
Though it seems impossible, Wilbur’s face fell even further,

“That bad, eh?”

“Yes.”

When they arrived at Loy’s place, Wilbur couldn’t help but remark on the white rabbit’s disheveled appearance,

“What is going on here, Aloysius? You look like you’ve taken a turn in the wood cutter.”
The buttons on his purple velvet doublet were mis-buttoned, his white fur (normally pristine) was dusty and quite brown in spots, his right ear leaned to the left and his left ear bent backwards.

“Really Wilbur? You know we hand carve all our eggs. And the chocolate eggs are all hand molded. Wood cutter. Pfttt. Indeed. Are you here to help or to criticize?”

“Help of course. I’m only worried about you.”

“Less worrying please, and more decorating.”

It wasn’t like Aloysius (or Loy as Fiddler liked to call him) to be short-tempered. The holiday is tomorrow though and when the three entered the workshop they could see very well the reason for Loy’s distress.

Long, battered workshop tables held boxes filled with human child palm-sized unfinished wooden eggs. Not a lick of paint on them, although it appeared that there was plenty of paint to be found. A myriad of glass jars held pinks, greens, yellows, blues, oranges, and purples. Light colors and dark colors. Fine-tipped paint brushes sat unused at hundreds of stations. Where were all of Aloysius’ bunny holiday helpers?

“I don’t know where they are! I know that they would never abandon their posts. Not at this time of the year. I can only be grateful that the chocolate and sugar eggs are complete. But these,” he gestured desperately to the wooden eggs, “these are all undone. We will have to work the rest of the day-”

“And well into the night.” Fiddler finished.

“Yes,” Aloysius agreed.

“We’re going to need help. Has anyone asked the faeries?”

“The faeries are busy enough with the flowers, Wilbur.”

“Why? The flowers should be doing very well on their own right now.”

“Normally, yes, but it looks like whoever took Loy’s bunny helpers took the flowers, as well.”
A million thoughts shot through Wilbur’s head, but instead of sputtering expletives, he shut his beak and broke out the bag of mani-sparkles.

“It’s a very good thing Fiddler asked me to bring this, then.”
Loy and Fiddler exchanged a glance, both knowing that had the circumstance been less desperate Wilbur would most certainly have argued, long if not loudly.
Knowing his friends as well as they knew him,

“Yes, well there isn’t time to argue and question right now, is there? However, after this lot,” he gestured to the thousands of unfinished eggs, “are done and you’re making deliveries, Fiddler and I will be looking for the thief. And I have a sinking feeling that I who that is.”

“So do I,” Fiddler nodded to Wilbur.

Sprinkling the mani-sparkles, Wilbur called to the Ancient Artists of Old, Bringers of Holiday Spirit Untold.

“They will set things right. They will bring us Spring’s Golden Light with hands to help us decorate.”
And then there they were, hundreds of iridescent helpers looking like miniature ghosts of ducks and chicks, cats and dogs, even ponies and goats. All held brushes in one webbed foot, claw, paw or hoof and a wooden egg in the other, painting beautiful swirly designs and rich symbols on each and every egg.

Once again, the holiday was saved. Saved by Magic, it’s true, but isn’t that what all holidays are? Magic?
Early the next morning, Aloysius used his own special brand of Magic, delivering baskets and hiding eggs in the grass and brush near every young child’s home. Hearts filled with delight as the egg hunt was back on. Although, no one but Fiddler, Wilbur, and Aloysius knew how close the holiday came to not happening at all.

Fiddler and Wilbur had their own mission. They had to discover who stole the holiday helpers and every wildflower in every field. A grim Spring, indeed without bunnies and flowers. Who could do such a thing? And why? They only had two clues left on the floor of the Loy’s workshop: a single blue feather and a torn and dirty piece of a muddy-gold colored scarf…

To be continued next month!


Illustration “Aloysius Dilemma” by Angelique Duncan.
Illustration “Decorated Eggs” by Intricate Knot.

Intricate Knot is proprietor of Cards For A Gloomy Day.Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for more adventures of Fiddler the cat.