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Happy Down the Rabbit Hole Day!
Jan. 27th, 2007 08:13 amYou may be wondering why I'm posting at 8 in the morning. You may be thinking, "Surely, if Carrie didn't have somewhere to be this early, no power on earth could force her from underneath her snuggly electric blanket." And you'd be right. I do have somewhere to be... or at least, I did.
Dad was driving me to Target for a morning shift. We'd managed to leave about eight minutes earlier than we usually do, but since he seems subconsciously determined to make me late every day, he compensated for the early start by driving about ten miles per hour slower than average. I tried to hurry him up by allowing billowing waves of silent disapproval to roll off my body, but he was impervious. Typical.
But it turned out to be a stroke of luck that he was poking along, because when a deer stepped onto the road in front of us, we were going slow enough to stop the car without hitting it.
The deer stood about twenty feet in front of the car and looked at us. Not at the headlights, not at the car--it was clearly looking right through the windshield, shifting its gaze from my father to me and back.
It was a bit unnerving. "Honk," I suggested. Dad tapped the horn, but the deer didn't even twitch. And more, I suddenly realized, were stepping out of the woods behind us. In less than a minute, we were completely surrounded.
"This is interesting," Dad said lightly. Before I could reply, one of the deer walked up to the driver's side door. It reared up onto its hind legs, bracing one dainty hoof on the back door for balance, and--I shit you not--tapped on the window with its other hoof.
"I think it wants you to roll down the window," I said, figuring my father wouldn't actually do such a thing. But I figured wrong. He shrugged, cranked down the window (the deer had hopped off the car at this point), and jokingly said, "Can I help you?"
The deer swiveled its ears. "Are you the Seed Family?" it asked us, its tone brisk and business-like.
"We're the Rivard family," Dad corrected. "Part of it, anyway."
The deer looked vexed. "We have no interest in what you call yourselves. At your dwelling place, do you or do you not put out seeds?"
"The bird feeders, yeah," I said.
The deer snorted in a satisfied sort of way. "The birds have vouched for you. Return to your dwelling place."
"But I'm late for work!" I didn't mind missing it, I just figured my employers wouldn't accept "a deer told me to go home" as a valid excuse for my absence.
"As are we," the deer said, it's tone decidedly grim. "When it's over, we'll talk again. For now--for the last time--go home."
Dad and I exchanged a glance. "Okay," he said. The herd turned away and headed towards town, some walking boldly up the street, many more in the woods on either side.
Dad rolled up the window, and we turned around and came straight back.
I wish I had more time. There's so much more I could say. But the power's gone out, and my battery never had much of a life span to begin with. I have to post this before my lappy dies, or before the phone lines go.
Just... stay inside, you guys.
ETA: Down the rabbit hole
Dad was driving me to Target for a morning shift. We'd managed to leave about eight minutes earlier than we usually do, but since he seems subconsciously determined to make me late every day, he compensated for the early start by driving about ten miles per hour slower than average. I tried to hurry him up by allowing billowing waves of silent disapproval to roll off my body, but he was impervious. Typical.
But it turned out to be a stroke of luck that he was poking along, because when a deer stepped onto the road in front of us, we were going slow enough to stop the car without hitting it.
The deer stood about twenty feet in front of the car and looked at us. Not at the headlights, not at the car--it was clearly looking right through the windshield, shifting its gaze from my father to me and back.
It was a bit unnerving. "Honk," I suggested. Dad tapped the horn, but the deer didn't even twitch. And more, I suddenly realized, were stepping out of the woods behind us. In less than a minute, we were completely surrounded.
"This is interesting," Dad said lightly. Before I could reply, one of the deer walked up to the driver's side door. It reared up onto its hind legs, bracing one dainty hoof on the back door for balance, and--I shit you not--tapped on the window with its other hoof.
"I think it wants you to roll down the window," I said, figuring my father wouldn't actually do such a thing. But I figured wrong. He shrugged, cranked down the window (the deer had hopped off the car at this point), and jokingly said, "Can I help you?"
The deer swiveled its ears. "Are you the Seed Family?" it asked us, its tone brisk and business-like.
"We're the Rivard family," Dad corrected. "Part of it, anyway."
The deer looked vexed. "We have no interest in what you call yourselves. At your dwelling place, do you or do you not put out seeds?"
"The bird feeders, yeah," I said.
The deer snorted in a satisfied sort of way. "The birds have vouched for you. Return to your dwelling place."
"But I'm late for work!" I didn't mind missing it, I just figured my employers wouldn't accept "a deer told me to go home" as a valid excuse for my absence.
"As are we," the deer said, it's tone decidedly grim. "When it's over, we'll talk again. For now--for the last time--go home."
Dad and I exchanged a glance. "Okay," he said. The herd turned away and headed towards town, some walking boldly up the street, many more in the woods on either side.
Dad rolled up the window, and we turned around and came straight back.
I wish I had more time. There's so much more I could say. But the power's gone out, and my battery never had much of a life span to begin with. I have to post this before my lappy dies, or before the phone lines go.
Just... stay inside, you guys.
ETA: Down the rabbit hole
