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Mystery In The Sky

by Ruthie Alekseeva  
9/21/2024 / Short Stories

(Based on the author's testimony)

Chapter One

“GRUNT!” Lucy climbs onto the brick letterbox in her front garden. “LEAP!” She jumps off the letterbox, grasping the lower limb of the leopard tree which grows beside it. Swinging back and forth on the tree branch, she raises her legs. She hooks her feet around the branch, then hangs there like a sloth, thinking, My favourite animal! Wish I had a pet one!

Next, Lucy pulls herself up, so she now lays on top of the slender tree limb. Then, she shimmies herself towards the trunk, stands up and climbs onto a branch higher up, nestling herself in the tree fork.

Lucy smiles. “I love it up here! I feel free!”

Then, Lucy closes her eyes. She hears a chorus of bird sounds singing all around her. A little bird sings, “Wee-wit! Wee-wit!” Another bird cries, “Ark! Ark! Ark!” Then, Lucy hears, “Tchip! Tchip! Tchip!” then a fast sounding, “Wee! Wee! Wee! Wee!” followed by a “Hait! Hait! Hait!”

A soft breeze flops Lucy’s fringe from the right side of her face onto her nose. She lifts her arms above her head, feeling the breeze blow against her armpits. She sighs. “Glorious!” Then, “Woah!” Lucy wobbles. She opens her eyes, grabbing the tree branch she sits on with both hands. “Better not shut my eyes while I’m sitting up so high. It makes me feel dizzy!”

As Lucy waits for her head to stop spinning, she experiences another uncomfortable feeling. She rubs the centre of her chest. “Something is missing right here. It feels like I’m not connected to something. What is it?”

Chapter Two

Another breeze flutters over the front of Lucy’s face and underneath her ear lobes. Then, the breeze changes direction, running under her chin, tickling it and pushing it upwards, as if the breeze is saying, “Look up! Look up! What do you see?”

Lucy tilts her face heavenward. She stares through a gap in the branches. She stares hard at a patch of bright blue sky that shines between the leaves. Then, SHA-WUSH! SHA-WUSH! A harder breeze blows the leaves and branches all around her, making her feel like she’s on the cusp of finding out something new and on the verge of having her missing-feeling question answered.

Then, the mystical moment is broken. “Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Lucy breaks her gaze. She pulls her eyes away from the shining window of bright blue, and stares at the ground below her. Lucy frowns, then shakes her head at the little, barking dog. “Biscuit! What a moment to cut in on!”

Lucy casts her eyes back up at the sky of blue, but the breeze has gone now and so has the feeling that she’s about to discover something new and perhaps something a little bit secret.

Lucy sighs. “Oh well, I guess, I’ll climb down now.”

Back on the ground, Lucy rubs Biscuit’s pink belly with the knuckles of her fingers. “What was all that barking for, hey, boy? What was all that barking for?”

Then, Lucy picks up a brown stick. FLING! She hurls the stick through the air. Biscuit jumps up and down on his hind legs. “Woof! Woof!” He races after the flying stick. Then, Biscuit slides to a halt, picks the stick up off the ground with his shiny, white teeth and sprints back towards Lucy. Lucy takes the stick from Biscuit’s mouth.

She giggles. “Eww! It’s covered in slimy drool.”

Lucy throws the stick again. This time, Biscuit leaps, catching it in his mouth. Lucy hugs Biscuit tight. “Clever dog!”

Then…DUNT! DUNT! DAH! Something awful happens.

 Chapter Three

Mum opens the front door. She smiles then says, “Okay, Lucy, that’s enough playing. Now, it’s time to practice the piano.”

Lucy’s shoulders slump. Her face slants towards the ground and Her voice becomes whiny. “Aww, Mum! Do I really have to? You know I hate it.”

Mum places her hands on her hips. “Dad paid lots of money for that piano and for lessons. So, yes, Lucy, you must.”

Lucy continues to pout, but she drops the stick she and Biscuit have played with and casts one last reluctant look at the sky and the mystery she felt she was about to discover.

Her shoulders still slouched; Lucy dawdles towards the front door while Mum disappears back inside. Lucy sits down at the brown piano. She frowns at the small white bust of George Frederic Handle, a famous composer, that sits on top of it. As she places her hands on the black-and-white keys, his smile seems to turn into a smirk, as if he’s enjoying her misery.

Lucy ignores him. “I’m not gonna take any notice of you, George! Instead, I’ll practice my scales. Mrs Poniris asked me to.” 

Lucy plays C, D, E, F, G, A and then B, plonking the piano keys so hard, the piano sounds grumpy.

Mum reappears. She folds her arms across her chest. “Lucy, you can play better than that. Now, I don’t want to hear any plonking or see any pouting or slouching.”

Lucy rolls her eyes, then straightens her back. She pastes a smile across her lips. She plays ‘Moonlight Sonata,’ trying not to sound angry. Mum smiles, then disappears again.

Lucy pushes the bronze piano peddles with her feet, making the piano notes blend and swell in volume. Then, SCRATCH! SCRATCH! SCRATCH! Biscuit pounces on Lucy’s bouncing feet.

Lucy giggles. “Yowch! Biscuit! Stop it!”

But Biscuit doesn’t stop. He continues to claw and lick Lucy’s toes, as she presses and releases the piano peddles.

Soon, Mum returns. She places her hand on Lucy’s back, then kisses her forehead. “Well, done, sweetie. I know you didn’t want to. I know you’d much rather climb that old leopard tree of yours, but I’m sure one day, you’ll appreciate that you learnt the piano.”

Lucy rolls her eyes, thinking, I doubt it, but she kisses her mum back, saying, “Can I play again now?”

Mum nods. “Play away, but don’t get too dirty. I forgot to buy soap.”

Chapter Four

Lucy closes the piano. What should I do now? It’s too late to climb in the leopard tree again. Then, Lucy’s little sister, appears.

“Lucy, do you want to read a book with me?”

Lucy makes a face. “Read? No, not really. I mean, I don’t like sitting down. That’s why I hate playing the piano. You can’t move and I’m always moving.”

Fia’s mouth turns downwards. “Pleeease, Lucy, Dad got it from the library.”

Lucy shrugs her shoulders. “Well, all right then. What’s it called?”

 Fia smiles. “It’s Pinocchio. You know, the little puppet who can sing and dance?”

Lucy nods. “I remember that one. It’s good! Pinocchio doesn’t like that he’s made of wood. He wants to be a real boy but he keeps telling lies.”

Fia nods, “That’s right!” Then, they sit on a big lime-green beanbag in Dad’s study, as Lucy reads the library book to her little sister.

When Lucy gets to the part where the Blue Fairy gives Pinocchio a conscience named Jiminy Cricket, Fia dances her hands around in the air, singing a line from a song in the Pinocchio movie. “So, always let your conscience be your guide!”

Lucy laughs, then reads, “Listen to your conscience, Pinocchio. It will help you resist temptation and find the straight and narrow path.”

As Lucy reads, she thinks about what it would be like if she started listening to her conscience as well. Not a conscience like Jiminy Cricket, but a real conscience; the conscience she has always had right inside her. I guess I’ve always heard my conscience but I’ve never really obeyed it. But, what if I did? Maybe, I would become a better person. Maybe, Mum and Dad would get mad at me less. Or, cool! Maybe, I’d go to Heaven and meet Jesus.

Lucy smiles. I’d like that. I’ll do it!”

Chapter Five

A week or so passes. Then, Saturday comes. The yellow sun shines bright outside. Then, KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Lucy’s neighbour from down the road, knocks on her front door. “Hi Cain! Let’s play bolf with Fia and the other kids in our street.”

Cain draws his eyebrows together. “Bolf?”

Lucy picks up a stick. “It’s baseball and golf mixed together. Me and Fia made it up yesterday when Dad glued this old wooden mallet to the end of this broken broomstick.”

THAWCK! Lucy hits the white bolf ball hard, then dashes to first base. Fia scrambles after the ball, then lobs it towards Cain. The ball completely misses Cain’s hands. Cain’s eyebrows slant downwards and his mouth hardens. “Fia! That’s the second time. You’re too small to play with me and Lucy. You’re just a baby. You should play with dolls instead.”

Fia’s forehead crinkles. “I am not too small! Lucy likes it when I play with her.”  But Cain continues to grumble. “You can’t run fast and you can’t throw straight.”

Another one of Lucy’s neighbours chimes in, saying, “Yeah, we want someone else on our team,”

Fia’s eyes shine with held-back tears. “If you won’t let me play, I’ll tell my mum.”

Then, Lucy calls Cain a bad word and shouts, “Leave Fia alone! It’s not her fault she’s only five.”

THUD! A thunk is heard inside the garage, then Lucy’s dad steps outside. His eyebrows are raised. “What’s going on out here?”

Lucy furrows her brow. “Cain won’t let Fia play. He says she’s too small.”

The tears moistening Fia’s eyes finally break their banks. She howls! “Cain said I can’t run fast and I can’t throw straight. He said I should play with dolls instead.”

Dad’s eyes shine with kindness. He places his arm around Fia’s shoulders, hugging her tight. Then, he says, “Come on, kids, let’s play nice. Include everyone.”

Lucy crosses her arms. She says, “We were, but Cain spoiled it.”

Dad frowns. “Lucy, I think I heard you call Cain a bad word. Please apologise.”

Lucy’s mouth becomes round. It becomes as round as the frisbee they’re using for first base. She sputters. “What? Apologise? But Cain started it. He called Fia a baby!”

Chapter Six

Dad nods. “Yes, I heard, and I’ll ask him to apologise too, but you go first.”

Lucy crosses her arms across her chest even firmer. She pauses, then says, “No!”

“GASP!” Fia, Cain and the rest of the neighbourhood kids stare at Lucy their eyes as round as custard cream doughnuts. Dad’s voice grows loud. “Lucy! I love you so much but you have a terrible temper. Go inside right now. You’re not playing bolf today.”

Lucy’s brow crinkles, then tears slide out from the corners of her eyes. She runs inside the house, her cheeks burning, shouting, “No fair!”

Once inside, Lucy throws herself onto the lime-green beanbag in Dad’s study. SMOOSH! SMOOSH! SMOOSH! the beans in the beanbag slide all around, as she wriggles around in it, trying to find a comfortable position. Then, Lucy stares out the window. The sky is brilliant and blue again and the sun is still shining. Lucy sighs. “What a day to miss out on. The weather is perfect.”

Then, Lucy feels something pointy poking into her butt cheek. “What’s that?” She shifts her position, then feels something flat. “It’s Fia’s book about Pinocchio.” Lucy reads the book again, killing time, but when she reads the part about listening to her conscience, allowing it to be her guide, Lucy’s cheeks burn hot again.

She thinks back over her morning, then groans. “My conscience warned me that I shouldn’t say bad words. It told me I shouldn’t shout at Cain and when Dad told me to apologise, my conscience said I should, but I didn’t listen. Now, my conscience is pricking my heart. It feels awful!”

Over the next few weeks, although Lucy continues listening to her conscience, she finds that lots of times she ignores it and does the opposite of what it has said. What’s worse, her conscience reminds her of her disobedience for days and even weeks afterwards. Overtime, Lucy’s chest feels heavy. “The guilt won’t go away, and it’s building up inside my heart and on top of my shoulders.”

The guilty feeling grows and grows until one day, it feels like she has a set of giant gym weights sitting on her shoulders. “It’s so heavy, it feels like I can’t stand up straight, like I’m standing bent over. I don’t like how my shoulders feel. How can I get rid of this terrible, awful, heavy, no-good sack of guilt?”

Chapter Seven

Dad steps into the study. “How are things going in here?”

Lucy’s cheeks burn, then she says, “Dad, I’m sorry I disobeyed you.”

Dad smiles, then gives her a hug. “I forgive you, Lucy, but I think there’s someone else you must apologise to also. After that, you can go play.”

Lucy takes a deep breath, then runs towards the front door, shouting, “YIPPEE! A sunny day like today is way too good to miss out on.”

Once outside, Lucy finds Cain playing sardines with the other children. Lucy’s cheeks burn. “Cain, I’m sorry I called you a bad word and yelled at you. Are we still friends?”

Cain grins. “Of course! I’m sorry too. You’re right. It’s not Fia’s fault she’s only five.”

Lucy gives Cain a big hug, then she plays sardines too.

That night, Lucy can’t sleep. She sits up on the edge of her bed, then tiptoes to the bathroom. She gulps a handful of water, then stares at her reflection in the mirror. “Why do I still feel awful and my shoulders so heavy? Why do I still feel as though I can’t stand up straight and like something’s missing, like I’m not connected? I mean, I said sorry to Dad and Cain. What else can I do?”

At sunrise, Lucy is still awake. Feeling bored and restless, she does something she’s never dared to do before. While everyone else in the house is still sleeping, she slips out the front door and climbs the leopard tree. “It feels better up here. I can hear a far-off siren and a magpie bird and the air smells sweet like a stick of chewy.”

Then, while she’s high in the sky, Lucy plays one of her favourite games. She imagines she has her very own pet sloth. Tugging on some nearby leaves, she pulls them off the tree branch. Next, she pats the air with her other hand, pretending she’s patting the furry head of her very own pet sloth. “Here you go, Cherry. Have some dinner!”

Chapter Eight

Then, the sherbert-orange sunrise blurs into shades of blue and, as it does, the air shifts from slightly cool to moderately warm. Sweat sticks in the crook of Lucy’s elbow, then a soft breeze runs over her shoulders and across the back of her neck.

Lucy stretches her arm straight allowing the breeze to relieve her sticky elbow. “Ahhh! That feels better!” Then, once again, SHAW-WUSH! SHA-WUSH! A harder breeze blows up, belting the right side of Lucy’s face and ear. Then, the wind changes direction, tickling her under the chin, pushing her face skyward. Once again, the breeze seems to say, “Look up! Look up! What do you see?” And once again, Lucy feels as though she’s on the cusp of experiencing something powerful, real and completely vital. “I feel like I’m about to discover something new and a little bit secret!” And this time, Lucy sees it.

Lucy stares at the leopard tree branch she has her legs wrapped around. “White with patches of grey. I guess that’s why they call it a leopard tree.” Then, Lucy stares at the brilliant blue sky and the white puffy clouds floating in it. She shouts, “I see it! I see it! The sky is massive, but looking at it, somehow, I know there’s something even bigger and its stronger and more powerful than me. Its guiding the whole world, and, somehow, I know that powerful thing isn’t a thing at all. It’s a spirit; a spirit called God.”

Now, Lucy remembers something she once heard at Kid’s Church. She remembers her teacher saying, “It’s easy to know that God exists. All you have to do is look at His creation.”

Then, Lucy’s old and eccentric neighbour pops out of his front door. He’s wearing his pajamas. Not polka-dot ones like the ones she’s wearing but what his equally unusual wife calls travelling clothes - that is, a hat, cane and coat. He spies Lucy sitting in the tree and, hearing her shouting, looks at her as though he thinks she’s the crazy neighbour.

Then, Mum and Dad appear. They look left. They look right. They look worried. Mum shouts, “Where is she?!”

Lucy waves her hands back and forth. “Mum! Dad! I’m up here.”

Mum and Dad look up into the leopard tree. “Lucy! What on earth are you doing up there and so early in the morning?”

Chapter Nine

Lucy giggles, then calls back. “I couldn’t sleep, so I climbed the leopard tree. And guess what? I saw God in His creation.”

Mum creases her brow. “What do you mean?”

“I looked at the leopard tree. I looked at the sky, and I looked at the clouds and somehow I knew. There’s something much bigger, stronger and more powerful than me. It’s guiding the whole world and it’s guiding me, and that powerful thing isn’t a thing at all. It’s a spirit; a spirit called God.”

Mum’s eyebrows relax, then she smiles. “Oh, I understand what you mean now. I had a similar experience. I guess, it was when I was around your age. I saw God in His creation too, but it happened while I lay on hot rocks beside a creek.”

Dad nods his head. “I saw God in His creation too. It was the same way you did, Lucy, while gazing at the sky, but come down now. There are two hot pancakes if you do!”

“Yum!” Lucy crawls out of the tree fork she sits in, then slides down the trunk of the leopard tree. Biscuit runs out the front door, then, barking and leaping, chases her inside.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, Lucy throws the yellow dress her mother has laid out for her on, then combs her hair into a side ponytail securing it with a ribbon.

Lucy bounds down the stairs. “Pancakes! Heavenly!” But as Lucy eats her breakfast, she sighs. That heavy weight is still sitting on my shoulders and I still feel like something’s missing.

Once breakfast is over, Mum, Dad, Lucy and Fia pile into their yellow van. Mum slides a praise and worship cassette tape into the stereo, saying, “This will help get our hearts and minds ready for church.” Then, they arrive.

Dad parks the car in the church carpark, then walks Lucy and Fia to Kid’s Church. “I wonder what the story will be about to today.”

Chapter Ten

At Kid’s Church, the teacher smiles. “I have a wonderful story to tell you! Jesus died for all your sins. If you ask Jesus to forgive you, He will and when you die, you will live with Him in Heaven instead of Hell. Now, everyone shut your eyes. If you want God to forgive you, pray this prayer after me. Don’t pray it out loud, mind you. Instead, pray it inside your head.”

As she waits for the prayer to begin, Lucy shuts her eyes. I’ve done lots of bad things. It makes me feel awful! Should I pray the prayer?

Lucy’s heart pounds. It grows fiery and hot, like a war is blazing inside of it. It feels like my heart is being fought over, as if God and Satan are fighting over me. Who will win?

The teacher starts her prayer. “Dear Jesus, I’m so sorry I have sinned. Thank you that you died on the cross for me, making a way for my sins to be forgiven. Please, forgive me today and help me repent. Make me your friend. Let me live with you in Heaven. Amen.”

Lucy prays the prayer inside her head. Then, POP! The feeling that a battle is raging inside her heart, between God and Satan, evaporates and it’s replaced by feelings of warmth, love, peace and joy. Lucy smiles. God won!

Then, Lucy realises something else. YAY! That heavy weight is gone too! I guess It wasn’t good enough to only say sorry to Dad and Cain because they aren’t the only ones that I hurt. I had also sinned against God, so I must stay sorry to Him too.

Lucy stands tall. And guess what? I can stand straight again! I don’t feel like I’m standing bent over anymore. Then, Lucy smiles. And that feeling that I’m missing something inside of me has disappeared. It’s God I wasn’t connected to, but now I feel full and joined to Him!

Chapter Eleven

September ends. October arrives. The sun shines brighter and the air feels warmer. Then, out of the blue, a freak heatwave strikes. Dad says, “My oath! It feels like December!”

Lucy’s eyes light up, then they become round and pleading. “Dad? Can we go swimming?”

Dad looks at the pool, then he looks at the sky, He looks at it as if he’s surveying the weather. He says, “Sure.”

Biscuit barks and Lucy shouts. “YIPPEE! I’ll go tell Fia.”

The girls splash around in the pool with Mum, then Dad comes by, holding a spanner. He says, “You’re not going to believe this.”

Lucy draws her eyebrows together. “Believe what?”

“Come and see for yourself.”

They all jump out of the water and follow Dad around the corner, up the path and to the open door of their garage. The garage is not like any other garage in our street. There’s no room for a car. Instead, it’s full of air bed pumps, eskies, bottles of brake fluid, containers of engine oil, leaf blowers, fishing rods, sanders, saws, drills, cans of old paint, timber, nails, screws, bolts, squash rackets and even a colourful sombrero!

Lucy pushes a fishing rod back into place. She shakes her head. “Dad! This isn’t a garage anymore. It’s a shed.”

Dad ignores her comment, then points behind a big plastic box. The box bears a white label which says, ‘odds and ends.’

Lucy and Fia stand on tiptoes, craning their necks to see. “What is it? What is it?”

Dad places one finger over his lips. He says, “Stay quiet.” Then, he lifts Fia up under her arms, holding her high, so she can see over the plastic box.

Fia sighs. “Aww! So cute!”

Lucy stands on tip toe, saying, “Let me see.”

Then, Dad lifts Lucy.

“Oh, wow! It’s a possum!”

Lucy stares at the possum. “So, sweet! It’s sleeping on its back, it’s arms and legs spread out wide like a starfish and its pink fingers curled over as if griping the handle bars of a zippy little motorcycle.”

Lucy stares a long while, her eyes softening as she watches its yellow tummy heave up and down, little puffs of air escaping from its mouth as it hangs wide open.

Dad says, “It’s dead to the world.” Then, he places Lucy back down on the ground, saying,  “It’s so hot. It must have taken refuge in here.”

Lucy places her hands together, as if pleading. “Dad? Can we keep him? Pleease?”

Chapter Twelve

Fia’s eyes light up, then she joins in too. “Yeah, pleease? Can he be our pet?”

Dad says, “It’s against the law to keep Australian native animals as pets but if the possum chooses to live here, I guess it can be our kind-of pet.”

Lucy and Fia shout, “YIPPEE!” Then, remembering the possum is asleep and that they don’t want to wake him up or scare him away, they clamp their hands over their mouths, whispering again, “Yippee!”

Mum fetches an orange from the kitchen and a shallow dish of water to make the possum welcome. Then, Dad lifts Lucy up again, so she can see the possum. “What a month you’ve had, Lucy. First, a new relationship with Jesus and now a new pet. What will you call it?”

Lucy looks at the sleeping possum, then looks over at Fia. “Well, I’ve always wanted a pet sloth, but as we live in Australia and not in the Amazon jungle, I guess that will never happen. So, I’ll just have to have a pet possum instead; a possum called Cherry!”

 

The Heavens declare the glory of God;

And the firmament shows his handiwork.

Psalm 19

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