Page 1 of Moon Chosen

1

The contagious sound of women’s laughter filled the warm, tidy burrow.

“Oh, Mari! That isnotan illustration from the myth I just told you.”

Mari’s mother held the sheet of handmade paper in one hand and pressed the other hand against her mouth, unsuccessfully trying to hold back another bout of laughter.

“Mama, your job is to tell the stories. My job is to sketch them. That’s our game, right? Ourfavoritegame.”

“Well, yes,” Leda said, still trying to fix her expression to a more sober one. “I do tell the stories, but you tend to sketch what youthinkyou hear.”

“I don’t see the problem with that.” Mari moved to stand beside her mother and studied the newly finished sketch with her. “This is exactly what I saw as you were telling the story of Narcissus and Echo.”

“Mari, you made Narcissus look like a young man turning into a flower. Awkwardly. He has one hand that is a leaf and the other that is still a hand. The same with his—” Leda stifled a giggle. “Well, with several other parts of his anatomy. And he has a mustache and a silly look on his face—though I do admit it is an amazing talent you have that can bring a silly-looking half flower, half man, to life.” Leda pointed at the sketch and the ghostly nymph who Mari had somehow made to look bored and annoyed as she watched the transformation of Narcissus. “You made Echo look—” Leda hesitated, obviously searching for the right words.

“Fed up with Narcissus and his ego?” Mari offered.

Leda gave up all pretense of admonishment and laughed out loud. “Yes, that is exactly how you made Echo look, though that is not the story I told.”

“Well, Leda.” Mari used her mother’s given name as she waggled her brows at her. “I was listening to your story and as I was drawing I decided that something was definitely left out of the ending.”

“The ending? Really?” Leda bumped her daughter with her shoulder. “And stop calling me Leda.”

“But, Leda, that’s your name.”

“To the rest of the world. To you my name is Mother.”

“Mother? Really? It’s so—”

“Respectful and traditional?” This time Leda offered to finish her daughter’s thought.

“More like boring and old,” Mari said, eyes shining as she waited for her mother’s predictable response.

“Boring and old? Did you just call me boring and old?”

“What? Me? Call you boring and old? Never, Mama, never!” Mari giggled and held her hands up in surrender.

“That’s good. And I suppose Mama is fine. Better than Leda.”

Mari grinned. “Mama, we’ve been having this same discussion for eighteen winters.”

“Mari, sweet girl, I can happily say that even though you have known eighteen winters, you haven’t been able totalkfor all of them. I did get a couple of winters respite before you started, and never stopped, speaking.”

“Mama! You said youencouragedme to start talking before I’d known much more than two winters,” Mari said in mock surprise as she reached for the sharpened charcoal twig with which she’d been sketching, and took the drawing from her mother.

“Yes, and I also never said I was perfect. I was just a young mother trying to do her best,” Leda said dramatically, releasing the sketch to her daughter.

“Really,reallyyoung. Right?” Mari said, sketching quickly while she cradled the drawing so that Leda couldn’t see it.

“That is absolutely right, Mari,” Leda said, trying to peek over Mari’s arm. “I had known one winter less than you when I met your wonderful father and—” Leda broke off, frowning at her daughter as Mari couldn’t contain her giggles.

“All fixed,” she said, holding up the sketch for Leda to inspect.

“Mari, his eyes are crossed,” Leda said.

“The rest of the story made me think he wasn’t too smart. So I made him look not very smart.”

“You sure did.” Leda’s gaze met her daughter’s, and both women dissolved into laughter again.