The Boat That Carried a Reflection

Omi's toy boat was meant to carry pebbles.

Tonight it carried a tree.

A very flat, very silver tree, small enough to fit the deck.

Its branches rippled across the deck.

MOTE settled by Omi's shoulder.

'A reflection,' Omi said.

Cat Sea reflections sometimes wandered.

This one had found a boat before it had found its way home.

She carried it to the apple pool.

The real tree stood round and busy above the water.

Her passenger was long and trailing.

'Not your branches,' Omi decided.

At the next pool stood a fir.

It pointed upward like a tidy brush.

The little silver branches bent down.

MOTE followed Omi to the next bend.

On the broad low bridge, Omi rested the boat.

Its silver passenger stretched toward the water.

The deck held only the middle of the shape.

Omi leaned closer.

There were more branches than she had first seen.

Thin ones, all leaning the same way.

Beyond the bridge, something brushed the pool.

MOTE hovered beside her.

A willow stood over the quietest pool.

Its leaves hung almost to the surface.

Omi looked into the water.

The place beneath the tree was strangely plain.

She set the toy boat in the shallows and kept one paw on its side.

The silver branches pointed away from the willow.

Omi turned the boat.

Now they pointed toward it.

One silver branch slipped off the deck.

It touched the water and grew long.

Another followed.

Omi held the boat still.

The reflection unfolded across the pool.

Above it, the willow stirred.

Below it, the silver branches stirred, too.

The boat was light in Omi's paw.

On the way back, Omi put a smooth pebble in the boat.

It stayed exactly where she put it.

This was useful.

It was also a little less surprising.

She stopped at her own pool.

A small silver cat looked up at her.

Omi tilted one ear.

Her reflection tilted one ear, too.

Everything appeared to be home.