A Wink of Moonlight

    I woke up with a start, my head throbbing with pain. My brain was pulsing madly against my sore skull and I groaned, attempting to open my eyes against the harsh sunlight. Slowly regaining awareness, I tried to remember what happened and it gradually came back to me. That board had really knocked me hard, putting me to sleep for an unknown amount of time, long enough to stop the blood oozing from my head where I was hit and harden it into a sore scab. Raising myself with shaking arms, I ventured into a sitting position, holding my head tightly and attempting not to twinge with the violent sting of the salt air on my open wound. After a few minutes, my headache subsided enough for me to crack open my eyes and glimpse where I was. My throbbing body, stiff from lying in an unusual position for so long, had remained on the crude raft, but I quickly discerned that I was nowhere near the harbor or anything else for that matter. All around me as far as the eye could see was a vast expanse of endless ocean, calm and taunting with its serenity. No land or harbor or anything could be seen at all. As I tried to focus on the horizon to search for land, a huge burst of pain seared my aching head back into its former glory and I lay down again, clutching my skull for fear that it would explode. With the pain, a draft of drowsiness swept over me, and the last thing I spotted before sleep overtook my eyes was a bright, colorful speck of light on the horizon, glowing invitingly.
   
    The second time I woke was much more peaceful. The pain in my head had lessoned, as had my drowsiness. Taking a deep, calming breath, I gladly sucked in the glorious, sweet-smelling air around me. Something oddly soft and comforting was draped over my body, rising and falling with my chest as I took in each wonderful gulp of air. I could hear soothing waves, breaking gently upon white sand, the sounds of leaves shifting lazily in a sleepy, afternoon breeze, and even the consoling caress of dappled sunlight, illuminating my face with a sun-ripened warmth. I did not quite care where I was or how I got there, only that, for those few spare moments, I was drenched in a carefree bliss of relaxation, enjoying the sounds nearby. Suddenly, my wandering ears captured a foreign, approaching sound: a strange sort of dialect, a language, but not like any I had ever known. Every word seemed quick and sharp, with a smooth and sensual rhythm. Unmoving, I listened quietly for a minute, thankful that the two people conversing seemed not to notice my consciousness and continued their conversation.
    
Muhw guh heymd fêmd pahtahr heymd brêmg hên hahrah tuh nah suh sheyt ê nheyi spahheyk tuh hên heybuhiyt suh gêrl.

    At this point my curiosity overtook my caution and I slowly and silently turned my head, wincing slightly from the pain of opening my eyes, and looked upon the strangest sight I had ever witnessed in all my life.  Sitting without a care, not ten feet from where I lay were two animals conversing as though they were humans. The first one, who spoke with an air of dignity and authority, was a cat, as black as night, its whole body as dark as the deep water of the harbor, save for a single white spot shaped like a crescent moon upon the cat’s forehead. Its fur looked silk-soft and smooth and its eyes were sparkling green, shining with a powerful inner light. The cat was talking to a small white and blue bird whom I quickly realized was Lila.
    “Lila…?” I gasped in astonishment, my voice raspy with lack of energy and use. Both animals, now realizing I was awake, abruptly ended their conversation and Lila departed into the trees, causing my pained head to assume I must have imagined it. The cat then stood up on its hind legs and walked gracefully toward me, confidence and superiority written in each delicate step. Scrambling backward in fear, I tried to get away but my head was throbbing again, draining my energy and holding me still. With my last ounce of strength, I challenged myself to get up, but the cat promptly pounced and landed on my chest, pushing me back down onto where I had been serenely sleeping minutes before.
    “Do not try and get up my dear…you are just going to hurt yourself more. You need rest.”
I remained silent and frightened, looking into the deep green eyes of the cat whose face was not more than six inches from my own, scaring me motionless, my fear radiating through my dark blue eyes. My whole body was shaking with the overwhelming need for rationalization. How could this cat talk? Was it going to hurt me since I could not fight back? Why was Lila associating with the cat? How could Lila talk? Was that in my head? Was all of this? Questions poured in and out of my petrified mind.
    “Come now dear.”
The cat purred soothingly, taking her silky paw and brushing a stray strand of fiery hair from my forehead.
    “Do not be afraid. My name is Moonlight.”