Somewhere Over the Rainbow Bridge

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NEW PROMPT:
Write a poem or story about a ghost rabbit that has begun to haunt your backyard. How do you discover its presence?
Why is it there each night? What do you do about it?
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“Hey scoot, get away from the Cheetos! I put them out there for my darling possums.” The frail and sickly old woman leaned out her open window and yelled down at the offending rabbit. She nearly fell out the bedroom window in shock when the long-eared animal instantly winked out of sight at the sound of her voice.

Must stop drinking so much Earl Grey tea in the evening. All that caffeine before bed can’t be good for me, she thought, rubbing her eyes in disbelief. Now I’m seeing things. Once more she looked out the window to check for the rabbit, but dusk’s dim light only showed the orange snack food scattered on the ground. Satisfied it was the tea and not her imagination that made the rabbit disappear, the old woman slowly shuffled over to her bed and was soon peacefully snoring.

The next morning when she looked outside, the Cheetos were gone. The old woman smiled at the sight, knowing her possums had once again been fed. For years, she had been throwing out food for these wild animals, Cheetos, stale cookies, and anything else from her cupboard she thought they might eat. Every morning, whatever she shared with them was gone.

That evening just as it was getting dark, she tossed a couple handfuls of the snack food out her bedroom window. When she looked down, once again she saw the shape of a rabbit. Tonight, though, she noticed something strange about the animal. “It must be the light since last night I vowed never to drink tea before bed again,” she muttered aloud. “I can see right through that little beast.”

She closed her eyes tight, and then opened them again, hoping the opaque animal was a figment of her imagination. If a rabbit could smile, this one was doing just that. In fact, the animal sat up on its hind legs, raised one front paw in greeting, and waved.

“Go away,” she cried out, her voice shaking in fright. The sight of a ghostly rabbit, even one seemingly as friendly as this one, had her questioning her sanity. “Please,” she whispered, tears starting to flow down her aged, wrinkled cheeks. “I don’t believe in you, you’re not real. Please go away.”

Instead, the rabbit hopped up to the windowsill of her open window. When the old woman let out a scream of terror, the ghostly rabbit quickly turned into an animal she wouldn’t fear, a possum.

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From the wide mouth of the marsupial, the woman heard the following. “Since the rabbit, I mean, I was the last one to die naturally after enjoying your food, the other animals you’ve fed over the years chose me to return and lead you over the Rainbow Bridge. I’ve been coming into the yard all this week, hoping you’d look out at the right time to see me.”

When her legs suddenly buckled at the shock of hearing a possum speaking in a deep masculine voice, the old woman collapsed on the bedroom floor. She couldn’t, however, take her eyes off the ghostly animal. As she watched, she saw it trying unsuccessfully to retain the body of a possum, but reverting once again to a big gray rabbit.

The friendly animal continued speaking, but now the voice had changed to a high-pitched, more feminine soprano. “You do know what the Rainbow Bridge means, don’t you?”

The old woman, still sitting dazed and silent on the hardwood floor, shook her head.

“Simply put,” the rabbit said, in a reverent tone, “those animals that die and have been loved by a human are allowed to go to a place located over the Rainbow Bridge. We no longer are sick or injured, but are restored to strong, vigorous health. All is perfect for us there, except we miss the human who loved us during our lifetime.

“Over the years, you have done just that to all the generations of possums coming into your backyard to eat what you lovingly put out each night. Without you knowing about it, even other animals like rabbits have shared the food. When we died in the fullness of time, both possums and rabbits crossed the bridge because of your unconditional love of all animals. You are to be with those of us who have enjoyed your backyard’s bounty.”

The old woman finally found her voice to say, “But I’m not dead.” Using a chair to pull herself up on her feet, she walked unsteadily back to the window. “Am I?”

Ignoring her question, the rabbit started slowly to fade away. The last words the animal said and the last words the old woman heard in her life were, “You soon will be. I am now ready to guide you over the bridge.”

The next morning, the woman who came every morning to cook and clean for the old woman found her cold, stiff body lying peacefully on the floor by the open window. The happy smile on the dead woman’s face and the few bits of gray rabbit fur on the windowsill momentarily confused the housekeeper.

Somewhere else, a healthy young woman walked through a field of fragrant wildflowers, surrounded by all the animals she had fed and loved during her 92 years.

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Microsoft Word count = 880

"The Writer's Cramp - Poetry Week"  daily contest runner up for 07/07/08
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