Tales

‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œI’™m hurting,’ Adam said to his Bubbles over breakfast. ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œWhere?’, she answered. ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œHere,’ he said, placing the tip of a bony finger over his breast bone. ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œWell, you’™re forever claiming you lost a rib because of me, maybe that’™s the place and it’™s just begun to hurt.’ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œDon’™t be funny ‘“ could be serious.’’  ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œNot if I know you, Adam. Fit as they come, you are.’ But a flash of worry passed over Pamella’™s face as she spoke. Adam loved his wife with a passion and a wonder that was rare. Wonder must be a strange word to mark love, yet this was, perhaps, the main aspect of his love for Pamella. ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œAs …

‘  ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  My name is Felix. I’™m a a cat who, by an extraordinary stroke of good fortune was rescued from a life of hardship and of poverty; of harsh smells and constant struggle. Not only am I now in comfort but able uniquely also to speak out for other strays and appeal to certain humans wherever they maybe. How this came about I shall relate later but first and foremost I feel I must bring to public attention the’  sorry plight of so many of my kind. I speak out primarily on behalf of my town and city namesakes upon whom fortune did not smile as it did upon me. The thousands of homeless cat vagabonds who eke out …

‘ ‘ ‘  It was to be a truly special and joyous occasion; Pamella was getting married to Tony. ‘œThey make such a beautiful couple,’ I thought. ‘œCould be taken for a Grecian God and Goddess.’’  ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  My thoughts were relaxed and lazy as I gazed rather dreamily through my kitchen window to our small garden. Pamella’™s mother, Grace, is my best friend and I was as happy as she at the coming marriage.’  The jangle of the phone cut my thoughts. ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œOddy, listen.’ It was Grace. Ever since college she has called me that. Actually my name is Odette but as far as Grace is concerned, it was always Oddy; ‘œThe Manor has thrown in two crates of French Champagne …

‘ ‘ ‘  Lillian Coleman, a young, caring home-maker was In her kitchen baking and preparing dishes her family would remember their lives long. The aroma of baking bread in her oven spread far. As practical a mother as Lillian was, she was also responsive to spiritual needs. ‘œJust as the body requires care,’ she would say, ‘œthe spirit can know hunger and thirst, too and longs for expression and understanding.’ ‘ ‘ ‘  The house was now quiet from those loud and happy noises that seemed to follow her eldest son, Richard, aged seven wherever he went. He and his two sisters had been taken to school by her husband, Raymond who worked in Nairobi. ‘ ‘ ‘  Lillian, suddenly startled by a knocking at …

‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  The thought often saddens me that my father did not live to enjoy his grand children. Living close to mine, being with them, watching them grow, is a great joy.’  I’™m just that lucky. ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  My wife and I live in the still small city of Ra’™anana. I do most of my local running around by bike and when Assaf, my youngest grandchild’  – I have four, two girls, two boys ‘“ turned eleven he found himself with a grand gift – his first ‘œbig-boy’™s bike’. What could have been more natural then for me to say, ‘œCome winter, my dear boy, we are going to have a whale of a time. We’™ll ride through the rough; through orange …

‘œYorum,Yorum, gingey, gingey, where did you get your red, red hair!’.’  Giorah’™s words stung me’  like bees as I ran from him. I felt terrible. If Giorah didn’™t tease me about my hair it would be my name. How much bad luck can a kid take? If only I had a couple of wishes! That would be really great. When my Mum and Dad gave me my name, didn’™t they know Yoram to the boys means a nerd ‘“ a bum? When my teaser was far enough behind, I began walking. I didn’™t pay attention to an old man sitting on a low stone wall. When I was opposite, his: ‘œHello, young man. Why so sad?,’ surprised me.’  I looked …

‘œAre you ready,’ Kossy asked. As scared as I was, I nodded and waited. But the truth is I was not ready at all. All kinds of colours were swimming around in my head. Then I heard Kossy say. ‘œThere. It’™s done. Looks good to me. Dark brown. I hope you’™ll be happy, Yory.’ Kossy didn’™t have a mirror anywhere. ‘œGo home. Look in your mirror. I’™m sure you’™ll be pleased.’ ‘œG’™bye Kossy. I’™ll come back and tell you,’ I said. Very excited I went quickly home to see for myself. As I came through the door Mum screamed: ‘œYory, what have you done to your hair?!’, ‘œThe kids at school tease me, Ma! You don’™t know what it’™s like …

‘œLet go ‘“ it hurts!!’, I shouted with Giorah’™s fist in my hair. Of course it hurts. But maybe I’™ll pull some out and it will grow back black, that way I’™ll be doing you a favour, wont I.’  Ha! Ha!’ ‘œLet Go!’¦’ and as I said it I pulled away from his grip.. My head hurt badly but his ‘œYoram, Yoram, gingey, gingey,’ stung even more. He’™s big and fat and two years older than me. Then I thought that maybe with my friend Shimi, together we could teach him a lesson he would remember. It was time to get even with Goliath. ‘œCome on, Shimmi, the two of us can beat him easy ‘“ teach him not to …

Kossy smiled at Yory and held out his hand for the Giggleweed leaves. ‘œThat’™s the giggleweed alright – you did it, Yory. You remembered to think hard of Giorah. Now we better be getting back. You remember my room well, don’™t you? Well I want you to close your eyes, picture the room in your mind and hold my hand. Open your eyes only when I tell you.’  Okay?’  Here we go again!’ My heart was beating hard as I pictured the wooden box-like room with the dusty window. Suddenly Kossy’™s loud ‘œWhere are we?’, forced my eyes open and I stared in amazement about me. It seems I made a mistake.’ ‘  We were in a small wooden room alright …