The Golden Guitar of Silver Strings - Part Two
Tabatha was woken up in the morning by a branch of the willow
tree tickling her face. The wind was blowing hard and the branches were flying
everywhere. Tabatha stretched and rubbed her eyes.
She yawned and said to herself, "What a weird
dream last night! Magic guitars? Yeah right!" Tabatha looked up and screamed.
There, high above her, sticking vaguely out
of the tree's hollow, was the golden guitar. Tabatha grabbed it. The engravings
of the Cybunnies were sleeping! A cute small one woke up, yawned then began
jumping around as usual. Tabatha was still in shock that she hadn't been dreaming
this whole time.
Suddenly, Tabatha thought of something interesting.
If the Cybunnies could hop, and if they could sleep, could they talk too? She
thought it would be strange to be talking to a guitar, but she went ahead and
said hello. To her surprise, the awake Cybunny stopped in its tracks and turned
to Tabatha. It started right at her and began talking!
"Hello there!" said the cute Cybunny.
"Oh my gosh," Tabatha replied. "Are you talking
"Who else do you expect to talk to you? The
tree?!" The engraving started laughing.
Tabatha turned around to look at the tree, checking
to make sure the tree really wasn't talking to her. She felt relieved that it
was a normal blooming willow tree. She didn't want anything else in her world
to be strange at the moment.
"So… uh, what's your name?" Tabatha asked and
stared without blinking at the guitar.
"Well my name is Hopper! Glad you asked, Tabatha!"
Tabatha did a double take. Now this was starting
to freak her out. How could a guitar talk? How could a guitar know her name?
She realized, then, that didn't know much about the golden guitar except that
it was definitely magical.
"So Tabatha," the Cybunny engraving continued,
"what would you like to know?"
Tabatha was confused. "What do you mean?"
"What do you think a talking guitar is good
for?" Hopper scratched his head and muttered, "Well, I guess there is always
being able to play it…"
Tabatha was curious about what a talking guitar
could know, so she asked a question. "What are the names of the other Cybunnies
in the meadow?"
Hopper laughed. "That's an easy one! Let's see.
There is Buttercup." He pointed to a beautiful Cybunny that was still asleep.
"She is named that because we all think she is as pretty as a flower!"
There was one thing that Tabatha liked about
Hopper. He definitely told the truth! Buttercup had long, swift hair and when
her eyes finally opened, she could see her amazingly green, glowing eyes.
"And over there, that is Thumpy…"
Tabatha saw a Cybunny that was just waking up.
He stretched then began to thump his foot as hard as he could. Tabatha could
feel the vibrations run along her hands as Thumpy went on thumping.
"Last, that one over there, his name is Chip.
We don't know why. He just liked that name and stuck with it. So are you going
to keep asking dumb questions like that or get some real information out of
"Ok, well…" Tabatha thought for a moment before
saying, "Are there other types of guitars like this? And why is my name on the
strings? Do the other Cybunnies talk? Oh, and how is it even possible that you
"Now we're talking!" grinned Hopper. "Nope,
there is only one guitar as elaborate as this. Not to mention, there are no
other guitars that have talking Cybunnies. Isn't it obvious? Onto the next question.
Someone made this guitar for you before you were even born. This guitar is magical,
and the Cybunny who made it for you has magical powers. And, yes, the other
Cybunnies talk, but Thumper is always busy, Buttercup is too stuck up to talk
to anyone, and Chip is shy."
"Someone made it for me? Magical powers?! Who
made it?" Tabatha gasped.
"Now that," Hopper answered, "I cannot tell
you. You have to find out on your own who made it."
Tabatha was frustrated now. "But why can't you
"I can't tell you because you need to find out
on your own. The Cybunny who made this is extremely important in your life,
and you need to make your own important decisions and find the creator yourself."
"FINE!" Tabatha was angry with Hopper now.
She stopped talking to him and dragged the golden
guitar on the road. Tabatha had a temper, and she knew the guitar was indestructible
so she didn't mind dragging it across the stone and rock street. She finally
stopped when she saw a small inn where she might be able to sleep. When Tabatha
got inside, she found out that she would not be able to pay the rent, but she
made an offer to the owner and was able to make a deal with him. The deal was
that Tabatha was to play music for the guests. With the deal settled, she was
allowed to stay at the inn as long as she wanted as long she played every night.
For about two months Tabatha played music at
the inn. One day, a traveler came in and saw Tabatha's guitar. The traveler
was an old Aisha with black fur. She had a satin bandana over her head that
was blue; it covered blonde hair that was turning white. She also wore seven
rings on one hand, and four on the other. The traveler staggered as she walked,
and her colorful, baggy clothes sagged. As soon as she saw Tabatha and her guitar,
she stopped in her tracks.
"It's the… its t-the," the old lady couldn't
even get a whole sentence out. "It's the Tabatha!"
She fainted on the ground and a few people surrounded
her while other stared at Tabatha like she was some kind of freak. Since when
was Tabatha being called 'The Tabatha'? Or was it the guitar the lady was talking
about? There was one thing that Tabatha needed more than anything. She had to
talk with the old traveler and get some information. She might even, Tabatha
realized as her mind bounced around the possibilities, know information about
her mother! Or maybe she might even know where her mother was!
Tabatha looked to the golden guitar for help.
"Who is that lady? And am I 'The Tabatha' or
you?" Tabatha asked the guitar nervously.
"Ah," sighed Hopper, "I had a feeling this day
was going to come soon. You are not 'The Tabatha'. You are just plain Tabatha.
And that lady just so happens to be… well I cannot tell you now. You will have
to find out for yourself."
"You mean you can't tell me who she is?! What
good are you anyway!? I thought you knew everything!" Tabatha was furious.
"No, I do know everything; I am just not allowed
to discuss people who have been part of 'The Tabatha'." Hopper winced and quickly
added, "I have said too much."
He stopped talking and began to jump through
the meadow as usual. Tabatha yelled to him, but he ignored her and hopped around
with long strides.
* * *
Two hours later, the old traveler was fully
conscious. Tabatha had put the golden guitar away so that the lady would not
faint once again.
"I need your help. I think you might have information
that I need to contact my mother." Tabatha looked straight into the traveler's
The traveler looked frightened. As she stared
upon Tabatha face, the Cybunny could see cold fear in her eyes.
"The T-taba-ta-Tabatha is back!' The traveler's
eyes filled with tears. "Please save us! You are our only hope. The Black Magic
is destroying our land!"
Tabatha was dumbfounded. What the traveler was
saying to her made no sense, yet she felt pain in her heart as the words came
"I don't understand." Tabatha was scared. "What
is going on?"
"You mean you don't know? Oh dear child, no!
I must tell you, you have to save us!"
The traveler grabbed Tabatha's hand and began
pulling her out of the inn. Tabatha was sure to take the guitar and followed
the old lady. The traveler brought her into a home a fair distance away. The
house was small, but comfortable. There were sheets or colorful satin hanging
on the walls of the one roomed space. In the middle of the room was a table
with a crystal ball. There were no chairs.
"Come sweet child," the old traveler began,
"and I will show you the past."
The traveler led Tabatha to the crystal ball.
She placed her hand on the surface and the center turned black with smoke.
"First I will show you your past"
Tabatha was frightened and wanted to ask what
was going on, but she was too scared and confused to speak. Inside the glass,
the black smoke turned into clouds, and the ball showed the outside of the Cybunny
Foster Care Center. It was unharmed! But how was this possible when there had
been a fire at The Center only a few months ago? Tabatha was baffled, but then
she saw a small blue Cybunny. It was her when she was four years old! Tears
streaked Tabatha's face as she watched the small child run after an Eyrie cab,
then give up and go inside The Center. This was her past.
"Oh you poor child," the traveler began. "You
had such a dark past."
The setting changed in the crystal ball. Once
again, it filled with black smoke, and then it turned into fire. It was from
the years, months, weeks, days, and hours before The Center had burned down.
"Ah, now that I have seen your past, I will
show you the past of our nation."
To be continued...