Hello, Invisible Friends.  Bear here.

You may not be able to hear it, but I am wuffling in dismay.

Why? Because I am mistreated.

I am unappreciated.

I am unloved.  Wuffle, wuffle, wuffle.

You see, when Ben’s parents came down to celebrate his birthday, they had all sorts of delicious treats.

Cupcakes…

Krispy Kreme….

Blueberry Muffins…

Blueberry Pie…

Homemade oatmeal raisin cookies…

BBQ and steak…

And they didn’t share.

Wuffle, wuffle, wuffle.

Ok, so maybe they gave me some bbq turkey.  And brisket.  And chicken.  And more turkey.  And beans.

But I still didn’t get any pie.  Or cupcakes.  Or muffins.

Wuffle, wuffle, wuffle, wuffle.

While I wuffle, you can read Miss Pickles.  For the previous editions, go here.

To read the original Miss Pickles published book, go here.

Meanwhile, I’m going to stay here.  Without any pie or cupcakes.

I’m so mistreated.

Wuffle, wuffle, wuffle.

—————————————————————————————————————————

Deciding to go to Forlorn Falls didn’t take long.

Figuring out how to get there, however, was another matter entirely.

Spreading out a old, yellowed map across the Seabreeze’s oak table, Miss Pickles and Ladybug peered at the ancient ink drawings.

“I think we should go down the river,”Miss Pickles announced, her eyes glittering.  “I’m sure I’ve got canoes and kayaks in here somewhere…”  She began to dig in her pink handbag.

The Ladybug shook her head.  “That will take forever.  The smartest thing is to go by air.  If we take the lift that runs through the jungle…”

The Seabreeze ground her beak together.  “The lift can be unreliable in this part of the jungle,” she murmured.  “The train might be the fastest…”

“The train?” Miss Pickles protested.

“Isn’t the conductor a bit crazy?” Ladybug questioned, her black brow furrowed.

“Canoeing is much more fun than a train,” Miss Pickles murmured, still digging in her handbag.

“Pardon me,” Mason interrupted, seeing as this could go on for an eternity, “But isn’t the most important thing time?  Shouldn’t we pick the fastest route?”

“And the safest,” Don added, who had begun to hyperventilate at the thought of canoeing down rapids.

“And the one nearest food,” Ralph chirped.  Everyone turned to look at him.  “What?” he asked, raising his shoulders.  “We need to eat.  We have to keep our strength up.”

Don eyed Ralph’s stomach.  “I don’t think you have a problem with that.”

“Mason has a point,” the Ladybug interjected.  “We’ve only got a few hours to get to the Falls and get the tears to the Giggler before my party tonight…So what is the fastest way?”

Miss Pickles shrugged, her head swallowed in the tiny pink bag.  The Seabreeze thought for a moment, then smiled.  “Let’s ask the map.”

Don narrowed his eyes.  “How do you ask the map?”

“So suspicious,” the Seabreeze muttered, fluttering her wings and flying across the room to a large shelf.  Plucking a large purple jar and a tiny green vial in her talons, she dashed back over to the map.  Mason watched as she sprinkled a shimmering white powder from the purple jar and dark blue crystals onto the map.  Perched on the table, she flapped her wings and cried:

North and south,

East and West,

Tell us, O’ Map,

Which path is best!

Don snorted.  “That is the cheesiest spell I’ve ever heard!”

“I miss cheese,” Ralph whimpered, rubbing his stomach.  “Cheese pizza…cheese enchiladas…cheese sandwiches…cheesy potatoes….”

Ignoring Ralph, Mason leaned forward and watched as the white and blue powders rolled across the map, gathering into a thin line.  Curling into a spiral, the powder swirled in a white and blue whirlpool in the center of the map.  As it swirled faster and faster, dark blue lines began to crinkle across the map, spreading like tiny cracks in glass.  With a brilliant flash, a dark blue line surrounded by two white borders shimmered across the map.  All the children leaned forward to look closer, their breath in their throats.

The Ladybug leaned across the table and raised her eyebrows.  “The Lost Path?”

The Seabreeze shrugged.  “You asked for the fastest way.”

“But the Lost Path?” the Ladybug pressed.  “How is that the fastest way?”

“Of course it is!” Miss Pickles cried, emerging from her purse with a triumphant grin.  She pulled out a golden compass and waved it in the air.  “For the best way to find a Lost Path is with a Found compass!  For then the Lost Path isn’t lost anymore, is it?”

Don leaned over to Mason.  “Is it just me, or is Ladybug Island like a giant opposite day?”

Mason nodded.  “It seems that way.”  He turned to the Seabreeze.  “Is the Lost Path dangerous?”

“All paths are dangerous.”  The Seabreeze’s blue eyes glittered.  “But with the compass, you stand a greater chance then most.”

For the second time this adventure, Mason reminded himself never to underestimate what was in a woman’s purse.

“You must hurry,” the Seabreeze continued, fluttering her wings as if to usher them out.  “There’s not much time.”

“She’s right,” the Ladybug replied.  “Come on, kids.  Let’s get organized outside.”

With a chorus of thank yous, the class filed out of the tree.  Mason glanced up at the Seabreeze, who winked at him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she mummured.  “And you don’t have to worry.”

Mason bit his lip.  “This all seems impossible,” he admitted.  “How are we going to find the Forlorn Falls, defeat the Giggler and get Ladybug back to her party in one night?”

The Seabreeze cocked her head, her golden feathers glimmering in the soft light of her treehouse.  “Before you came to Ladybug Island, did you ever think you’d see a parrot turn into a girl?  A entire Ladybug castle in the clouds?   Sharks that crave sugar instead of flesh?”

“No,” Mason admitted.  “But…”

“But remember this,” the Seabreeze mummured, perching on his shoulder.  Her golden talons dug in his skin.  “What is lost can be found and what is found can be lost.  But what is never found can never be lost.”

Wrinkling his brow, Mason turned to look at her.  “But that doesn’t”–  He started, whipping his head around.  “Where did she go?”

“She doesn’t like goodbyes,” Miss Pickles said gently, shoving the long map in her tiny handbag.  “They’ve always bothered her.”

“She bothers me,” Don muttered, crossing his arms.

“I can’t imagine why, duckie,” Miss Pickles replied cheerfully.  Plopping a fake patch over her eye and clipping on her giant hoop earrings, she pulled out her fake rhinestone-covered sword.  “Shall we go?”

“What did she mean?” Mason interrupted.  “What is never lost can never be found?  If you don’t know something is lost, how can you look for it?”

Miss Pickles shook her head.  “This is your adventure, duckie.  Your path.  It’s time you found out.”  Sweeping out her sword, she stormed out the door.  “To the Lost Path!”

“To my lost saniety,” Don muttered, following behind her glumly.

Glancing around the empty treehouse, Mason bit his lip. “Goodbye, Seabreeze.  Thank you.”

As he left, he could have sworn he heard the flapping of wings.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we introduce some new Spring Creatures to the Pond, and Wednesday a new Pet story!  Then Thursday we have a delectable recipe, and Friday, a new Dallas Jean!  Stay tuned!