THE TURTLE AND THE RABBIT: A LOVE STORY

THE TURTLE AND THE RABBIT: A LOVE STORY

By Teri Weefur

A series of short stories woven together by the theme of the turtle and the rabbit, and their search for love.​

Part I: When Turtle Met Rabbit

F​or centuries, Turtle has been known to take his time, to procrastinate even, to move patiently through life. Turtle, known in cultures around the world as a steadfast creature, lived for a 100 years without knowing the true meaning of love. He migrated for miles throughout the depths of the ocean, where he lived and felt safe, protected by his sturdy shell.

One day, Turtle, yearning for a life without solitude, decided to venture onto land. The threat of predators much bigger than he was no deterrent to his deep desire to find this love.

As he made his way from the depth and darkness of the seas, up towards the light, fighting through the currents and then through the surf, he washed up on shore. One slow, steady step at a time, he ventured warily and cautiously toward the lush thickness of life on land.

Turtle, peaceful and solitary by nature, saw around him the harshness of a world so alien to him, and began to regret leaving his aquatic home. Among the howls of land animals, and the cries of winged creatures, he retreated into his shell and there he remained, safe in his isolation, and resigned to the fact that love was but a myth in his mind. ***

W​ay above the wispy clouds, and into the blackness of space, somewhere on the desolate landscape of the moon lived Bunny. The rabbit, since the dawn of time, was created by the gods as a symbol of fertility—though in an ironic and sardonic twist of fate, was given a lunar home where she dwelled alone.

Day after day, she watched Earth come in and out of view, and she longed to journey to the mythical land where she knew she would find love.

One night, as a shower of shooting stars whizzed towards the moon, on their way to Earth, she decided to hitch a ride to finally discover the planet, so connected to her home, yet so far away.

Arriving safely on Earth, Bunny thanked her lucky stars and hopped on in exploration of what appeared to her to be a magical land, filled with colors and sounds unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Earth was beautifully detailed as she’d always imagined. Excited, she raced through the world, certain she would find someone with whom she could share a life.

Bunny, so sweet and naive, befriended many creatures in her adventures on Earth: Tiger, who promised to protect Bunny, nearly devoured her one night in a fit of hunger; Snake, who claimed to always be truthful with her, wrapped himself around her and nearly suffocated her; and Eagle, who vowed to love her, couldn’t stay still long enough to do so.

Despondent, Bunny hopped away into a forest, wishing now for the life she had left behind. At least, there she was safe from harm. She settled on a rock, looked up at her moon, which seemed so far away now, and wept gently. Through her tears and pleas to be taken back home, she began to notice that she was somehow getting closer to the moon. She thought that maybe her wish was coming true, until she looked down and saw that the Earth too was moving beneath her. Confused, she hopped off the rock—only to find out that it wasn’t a rock!

Turtle spoke softly to her: “I didn’t mean to frighten you, dear Bunny. I only wanted to give you what you seem to desire.”

Bunny’s heart soared. Many others had claimed to want to give her her heart’s desires, but until now, no one had ever really tried. In that moment, Bunny knew, undoubtedly so, that Turtle, more than anyone else on Earth, was the one she had searched for all her life…and they lived happily ever after.

Part II: The Playboy and the Bunny

S​he had never felt more insecure. There she was, sitting in an outrageous outfit, among unfamiliar faces, waiting for a man who was a virtual stranger.

She had let her friends talk her into being set up with him three weeks ago. They had begun talking on the phone, and she ​thought​ she liked him, and she ​thought​ he liked her. They had agreed to meet at a masquerade party, where he said he’d come as Hugh Heffner, the famous Playboy icon, if she’d come as a sexy Playboy Bunny. She had agreed, and they’d plan to meet at the bar, where she hoped kismet would finally catch up to her.

She was nervous, and excited. She was ready to feel butterflies--when would they come?

Even her friends had thought that he could be her “one,” and she’d started to believe them, until now. She glanced around the room, the bass of the music in sync with her heartbeat. There was a sea of bodies, undulating to the sound. There were people disguised in elaborate costumes, uninhibited by the secrets their masks hid. Among the bodies, however, there was no Mr. Playboy. He was already 45 minutes late.

As if on cue, her cell phone buzzed--it was a text message. From him. It read: ​Friends forced me to some other party. Thought I could make it to you. Sorry! Rain check?

She pressed the delete key, sighed, and dropped her phone into her bag. She reached up for her glass, and saw it was empty. She decided to order more wine. Just one more, she thought--she may as well enjoy ​something​ of the night. She wasn't going to berate herself for thinking that love would show up dressed for the night as a suave millionaire. It was what it was.

She hailed the bartender, and asked for her bill. As she lifted the glass to her lips to take her final sip, she caught her reflection in it. Only then did she feel like a fool. She reached up to take the fake rabbit nosepiece from her face, when she heard a voice beside her.

“Please don’t do that just yet. You are the most adorable bunny I’ve ever seen,” he, a juvenile, masked child superhero, said.

Feeling the effects of the wine now, she giggled at what he was wearing.

“And you’re supposed to be. . .?” she asked, her speech slightly slurred as she bordered the line of sobriety.

“Ah! I, mademoiselle, am a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle!” he said proudly.

This time she laughed out loud.

“You do know that this is an ​adult​ masquerade party, right?” she teased.

“Oh, don’t let the costume fool you—I’m all man underneath this hard shell!” he boasted jokingly, patting his plastic chiseled chest.

“From the looks of you, seems like you're more of a big kid!” she joked back.

“Maybe. Sometimes.”

She could hear the smile in his voice, even muffled behind his face mask.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he added.

“Long story,” she mumbled and took a long sip of wine.

“Was it a guy? Because if it was, he better be either dead or in jail to not be here by your side right now.”

She smiled shyly, feeling the sincerity of his flattery.

“Do you mind if I sit?” he asked politely.

She shook her head and he adjusted his turtle shell to sit on the bar stool to her right. He only left a few silent moments before he inhaled a breath and turned to face her.

“So, not to sound like some kind of stalker or anything," he laughed, nervously now, "but I’ve been sitting at this bar for the past hour, and ​I​ think you have some kind of magical bunny spell that only appears to work on turtles.”

Her face lit up in amusement.

“Either that, or you've got the smoothest pick-up lines in this joint," she laughed.

“I wish this was just a line, because it would have made coming over here like this that much easier." His eyes, peeking from behind the mask, were brown and warm, and she felt her heart palpitate, just for a split second. She had to catch her breath. She was tipsy, she thought, and was only ​imagining​ the butterflies beginning to flutter inside her.

“Oh yeah? And why is that?” she said, trying now to keep her own invisible shell safely around her.

“Because I see what that guy who didn’t show up, couldn’t. I see ​you​.”

“You don’t even ​know​ me,” she said.

“Well,” he began, looking her squarely in her eyes, “while you’ve been sitting here, I’ve seen almost every range of emotions come across your face.”

She sat up in her seat, interested in what he would say next.

“First, there was hope, excitement, nervousness. And that changed into doubt, insecurity, and maybe even a little despondency.”

Had she been that easy to read, she wondered, or only to someone who had cared enough to see her for who she was.

“But then," he said emphatically, "appeared strength and resilience. And I see a smile inside you, which only needs to be lured out.”

She smiled again, and his eyes lit up seeing the glory of her joy, even if only in small doses.

“And as I watched you, I couldn’t help but wonder how so much more beautiful you would look. . ." he swallowed, ". . .when you’re filled with love.”

Okay, this was too much, she thought. This man couldn't be for real, telling her things she'd only heard in Hollywood movies. She looked over at him, wondering if she should ask him to remove the mask now, to reveal to her the face of the man who seemed to sweetly stoke her joy. She decided instead to enjoy the man and his words, not for what he looked like. Not yet at least.

And as they talked, drank, and laughed the rest of the night away, swapping stories of life, she realized that he was no trick being played on her. He was different, special, and as real as she could ever have imagined.

Emboldened now, she reached over to lift his mask, to reveal the face of the faceless man she had seen in her dreams many a night. To her, he was simply beautiful. His eyes sparkled with sincerity, his lips overflowed with passion, and his aura glowed like gold. She smiled again, wider still than before, as he reached out to brush away the locks of hair that had fallen in her face.

“So, you think there’s any chance a beautiful bunny could ever go for an atypical turtle?” he said, wishing he had the courage to lean in and kiss her.

“I don’t see why not," she blushed. "Worst case scenario, our meeting becomes the intro for a bad joke I'll tell my friends…you know, ‘a turtle walks into a bar and falls in love with a bunny rabbit!’” She laughed heartily, a laugh that gave him the courage to pull her into his arms in an embrace. There she let herself be held, her face nestled in the safety of his arms.

She had never felt more secure. There she was, sitting in an outrageous outfit, among unfamiliar faces, falling for a man who was a virtual stranger.

Part III: Boy {Turtle} Meets Girl {Bunny}

S​he pedaled as fast as she could, jumping curbs as needed, as she maneuvered deftly through the back roads. Her hands squeezed the brakes on her handlebars as she swerved to avoid hitting him. He was going nearly as fast as she was on his skateboard.

"Hey, watch it!" she yelled at the back of his head as he kicked and pushed off and away, unperturbed by her.

"Stupid boys," she mumbled before picking her pace back up.

She reached the store, hopped off her bike in one smooth swoop, and threw her lock around her bike and the lamppost. She skipped into the store, the smells of fur and feces wafting over her. It was a smell she adored--and couldn't wait to finally get her first pet. She had worked odd jobs for her parents and neighbors for two whole months in order to save up the money for this.

She picked up her pace and headed straight for her aisle with the huge red MAMMALS sign hanging over it. She walked straight up to the cage she had become familiar with over the past three months. She breathed a sigh of relief: her bunny was still there! She looked around slyly, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a baby carrot. She slipped the carrot into the cage where her rabbit inched over to her, first sniffing her fingers, then quickly opening its mouth to nibble on the carrot.

"Hi, Bugs. I'm here to finally take you home," she whispered to the white and brown-spotted rabbit she had already named. She looked up, through the cages, where she could see through to the other side of the store--the side with the big blue sign REPTILES hanging over it.

She recognized him, the stupid boy on the skateboard, standing with his face pressed against the glass. He looked funny, the features of his face distorted as it appeared through the water in the tank. He was watching the swimming sea turtles, one in particular it seemed, as intently as she'd ever seen a boy be. His brown eyes were even larger through the magnification of the tank, and just then, his eyes shifted and he saw her watching him. She hopped out of his line of sight, close to the hamster cages and held her breath.

He was cute, for a stupid boy, she thought to herself. She peeked back around to see if he was still there, when he appeared right behind her, startling her half to death.

"First you try to run me over, and now you're spying on me?" he stated.

Had she been any other girl, she would have been speechless, caught off guard. But she was no average nine-year-old.

"Well, I believe I got here first, seeing that I was faster on my bike, so it looks like you're following me!" she said, folding her arms and cocking her head to the side.

"What are you getting?" he asked, completely changing the subject.

"A bunny. . ." she replied.

"Bunnies are for girls," he said, as if an insult.

"Well in case you didn't notice, that's what I am," she responded, sarcastically.

"I couldn't tell, the way you rode that bike," he retorted.

"Excuse me if I'm athletic," she boasted.

He smiled, showing off his two front teeth, which, to her, looked like big rabbit teeth.

"I'm getting a sea turtle," he said, switching gears again. Boys just couldn't stay focused, could they, she thought. "I love amphibians. I have three frogs, too."

"Turtles aren't amphibians." she corrected, blatantly.

"Whatever," he dismissed. "Come see them," he added, unexpectedly grabbing her hand and pulling her to the reptile aisle.

They stood, both their faces pressed up against the glass this time, their eyes bug-eyed and wide, watching the turtles swim around the tank. After a few moments of silence, he asked her which he should pick. She concentrated, studying each turtle carefully. She lifted her index finger to the glass and pointed to one, who stayed separated from the pack.

"That one," she said, emphatically.

"What shall I name him?" he asked, already easily convinced.

She shrugged.

"I dunno. . ." She looked up and saw a family standing in front of the rabbit cages. "Oh no!" she cried out and raced towards the cages.

Five minutes later, as the store clerk prepared her rabbit in its case for transport, he showed up beside her.

"What did you name it?" he asked her, startling her once more.

"Sheesh, don't you know how ​not t​ o sneak up on someone?" she asked, this time smiling.

"I got a name for mine," he said ignoring her comment, again.

"What is it?"

"Rabbit." His face lit up as he showed his buck bunny teeth.

"That's silly," she laughed.

"You should name yours Turtle," he suggested.

"That's dumb!" she laughed harder. "His name is Bugs."

"Bugs is ​so​ unoriginal," he said dryly.

"You think so?"

"Yes. It should be Turtle and Rabbit. Makes sense to me," he explained.

"Yeah, but you're a boy." She giggled nervously now for the first time.

"Wanna ride back together?" he proposed, skilled in the ways of evasive conversation.

"Why not," she said, following his lead.

He threw his skateboard down, looked back once as if to urge her to follow him, and cruised out the entrance.

She looked down at the bunny, nibbling at some unknown thing in its mouth.

"Turtle, huh?" she whispered to the rabbit. "Don't tell anyone, but I kinda like it. Turtle it is," she said, then skipped out to the front of the store, where he was waiting impatiently for her.

Part IV: Full Circle "​I​ love you."

The memory of the words uttered just months before brought a smile to her face--and moments later, when the smell of turkey wafted through the dining room, two little ones popped into the kitchen with complaints of hunger pangs.

"Dinner will be served soon, my darlings," she said as she slipped her gloved hand into the oven to pull out the golden-brown bird.

"But Grandma, we're staaaarving!" they pleaded.

"I know," she said, pulling both of her grandchildren into her still-strong arms and planting their foreheads with kisses. "Why don't you go call your fathers and tell them to come up?" she added, patting their behinds as they raced out of the kitchen to see who could reach the basement first.

Her daughter, a spitting image of herself at that age, the age she met her husband, walked over and placed a gentle hand on her mother's back.

"You okay, Mom? Why don't you go sit down? I've got the rest," Anaïs said, worried about her mother doing too much in her condition.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," her mother insisted. Anaïs knew better than to argue with her bull-headed mother, and grabbed a handful of cutlery to set the table with.

In no time, they were all standing around the table, holding hands in preparation for the blessing of the meal.

"Who wants to say grace?" Anaïs' husband asked as a flurry of tiny hands went up in the air.

"Noah, how about you, since you're the eldest grandchild?" Grandma interjected. It wasn't that she thought he should say grace just because he was the eldest, but also because he was her husband's namesake.

Noah stuck his tongue out at his cousin before any adult could see and began to bless the food.

Anaïs sat next to her mother, in the spot where her father usually sat. This was their first Thanksgiving without him and she wanted to care for her mother more than ever now. Her brother and she exchanged glances and he rose to carve the turkey; symbolically taking over his father's role.

Dinner was pleasant enough, and when the women returned to the table with dessert--fresh-baked apple pie, their mom's famous pineapple-upside-down cake and Arabian coffee--they began their usual tradition of saying what they were thankful for.

"Oo oo me me!" little Noah called out his hand extended in the air, always the eager one.

"I am thankful that Grandma is still alive," he said in the tactless way that is only acceptable of a seven-year-old. Everyone looked at Grandma to see how she would react, and she smiled and hugged Noah.

"So am I, Noah," she indulged, "ao am I." Everyone else around the table took turns telling each other what they were thankful for, and when it was their mother's turn, she cleared her throat.

"I am thankful for love. . .for the love this family has shared over the years. I am thankful for every moment your father and I had together, and even though he isn't here in the flesh, I know he's here in spirit, and for his love, I am eternally grateful," she said with the strength and

elegance that was inherent to her. Then she reached under the table to pull out two gold-wrapped boxes with big, elaborate purple bows. Anaïs smiled, knowing her mother all too well.

Presentation was everything to her, and even if the boxes had contained dirt, she knew her mother would have taken the time to make them look as beautiful as possible.

"These are for Noah and Nyemadi," she said, handing the boxes to the eager children.

"My two favorite grandchildren!"

"But Grandma, we are your ​only g​ randchildren," Noah corrected, his droopy brown eyes and quick tongue so much like his grandfather's.

Grandma winked at him and nudged her head as if to encourage them to open the gifts. In three seconds the beautifully wrapped gifts were torn apart, gold scraps of paper littering the floor around them. Noah opened his first and pulled out an old, but still in mint condition, stuffed animal: a dark-green turtle.

"Ooo! Another buddy to add to my collection!" he squealed, hugging the turtle close to his chest. Inspired now by her cousin's excitement, Nyemadi finished ripping open her box and also pulled out a stuffed animal, a bunny rabbit with big floppy ears and an oversized puffy tail.

Anaïs looked over at her brother--both of them knew the stories behind the animals that once belonged to them.

"Oh my God, Mom, where did you find these?" Anaïs's brother asked incredulously. It had been decades since he'd seen the two animals that had been his and his sister's favorite bedtime companions for many years.

"Your father had insisted on keeping them, even when I was going through a purging phase and almost tossed them out. He wanted me to give them to you two," she said looking at the kids now. "They were. . ." she swallowed to keep her composure, ". . .they were very special to him, as were all of you."

Anaïs felt herself well up and turned to look out the window toward the swelling ocean to keep from breaking down. She was hurting so much, but knew as much as it pained her to lose her father, that heartache was a hundred-fold for her mother. Her mom loved her father more than anything she'd ever before witnessed. And he loved her back. She had been there at her father's bedside the week of his passing, and her mother had doted on her love hand and foot, spending every waking second by his side, snuggled up next to him, kissing him as if on their honeymoon all over again. Anaïs had looked at them lovingly, happy to have just a fraction of their love in her own marriage.

She had eavesdropped on their conversations late at night, which she couldn't help hearing through the old vents in her parents' home. She'd wept in bed silently hearing them reminisce about the moments in their lives that had been the most memorable.

He'd recalled how they met, and they'd laughed about how crazy it had seemed to their families at the time. He'd apologized again, for the umpteenth time in their long, loving marriage, about being late for the delivery of their son, showing up out of breath and still in his suit from a business meeting overseas, with a stuffed turtle for his firstborn son. And she'd poked fun at him for being way too early for the birth of their daughter and coming prepared, this time with a rabbit for his little girl.

"If I remember correctly," her mom had reminisced, "you got to the hospital from the airport before even I did!"

Her father had giggled like a schoolboy. Then she'd heard her mother weeping in his arms, telling the love of her life that she didn't want him to leave her, that she didn't think she

could survive this life without his love.

"Baby," he'd whispered just loud enough for Anaïs to hear, "you'll never be without my love. I'm in here forever." She'd heard his voice strong and sure, the way she'd always remembered him. She knew her mother was comforted, though still aching, by this assurance.

"You've made me the luckiest woman in the world, sweetheart. God is going to be very pleased with you," her mother had said half-joking, her voice cracking a bit.

"We must both be very lucky," her father had added. "Look at you...still as beautiful as the first day I laid eyes on you." She'd heard them kissing, and for the first time in her life didn't wince at the thought of her parents making out as they often did.

And before she’d fallen asleep that night, Anaïs had taken into the depths of her heart something that would forever stay with her: the last thing she had heard her father say: "I love you."

THE END