Peggy and her mother were sitting in the garden. Peggy had only been home from the hospital for a few days and she was sitting in a wheelchair. She was looking at the big stone fountain in the middle of the garden and listening to the splashing of water. After a long time of just looking and listening, Peggy turned away from the fountain and looked at her Mother.

“Mother,” Peggy asked. “Where did Miranda come from?”

“Who?” Peggy’s mother didn’t have the faintest idea who Peggy was talking about.

“Miranda, Mother. The swan in our fountain.”

“Oh, Peggy,” Mother smiled. “That’s just a statue.”

Peggy looked back at the fountain, at the beautiful stone swan rising from the fountain’s bowl.

“But I call her Miranda. Where did she come from, Mother?”

Mother sighed.

“I don’t know, darling. It’s been in the garden as long as I can remember.”

“Even when you were a little girl?”

“Yes, even when I was a little girl-“ Mother laughed, “-a hundred years ago.” Mother sponged Peggy’s forehead with a handkerchief.

“Isn’t it hot today! The sun’s just like a big orange. You’re not too warm, are you, honey?”

“No,” said Peggy. “I like being in the sun today.” She stared hard at the stone swan.

“Mother, was Miranda ever real? I’ll bet she was. Once.”

“Of course not.” Mother put the handkerchief away in her pocket.

“She – it’sjust a statue, Peggy.”

“You know, Mother,” Peggy was thinking of the day she’d been knocked down by the speeding car, “if I could walk like I used to, I’d get up right now and walk over to Miranda. Then I’d climb up on her back and it’d be so cool with all the water running down on me. All over. Then I could be cool whenever I wanted.”

Mother was wishing Peggy wouldn’t brood so much over the accident. She forced herself to laugh so Peggy wouldn’t know how worried she was.

“Peggy, what an imagination you have. I don’t know where you get it from. Certainly not from me.”

“But if I could walk, Mother, that’s what I’d do.”

Mother patted Peggy’s hand.

“Honey, honey….”

Peggy turned quickly to her Mother.

“Do you think some day I’ll be able to walk again?”

“Of course, darling.” Mother’s voice went all brisk and casual.

“Now don’t start fretting about it. You’ll make yourself ill.”

“Mother…”

But Mother was standing up and brushing bits of grass from her skirt.

“Honey, I’ve got some quick chores to do inside. Will you be okay out here for just a bit?”

Peggy pulled on her Mother’s hand.

“Couldn’t I have a pet all of my own? Please. Please, Mother….”

Mother’s voice got even more brisk.

“Peggy, don’t whine. No, honey. You know your father and I have discussed it and we don’t think it’s a good idea. Not right now. Maybe later. You’d just tire yourself out playing with it.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I promise.”

“Oh, yes, you would.” Mother gave one of Peggy’s pigtails a little tug. “I know you. You have to get much stronger first.” Mother started back into the house. “I’ll be back in a little while with some lemonade, the way you like it.”

And Mother was gone. And Peggy was alone in the garden with just the hot sun and the water splashing in the fountain. And the stone swan.

Peggy whispered to herself.

“I am strong enough to have a pet. Just a small one. All my own. So I could talk to it and not be so alone all the time.

“…Maybe a little rabbit. If I had a rabbit I’d call him – Toulouse!”

Peggy stretched her arms out to the fountain and whispered,

“Miranda, I wish you could hear me.”

And then Peggy thought – “Maybe if I shut my eyes and just listen to the water …”

She did shut her eyes, tight. All she could hear was the water splashing-splashing-splashing, getting louder and louder, splashing…

…splashing …

            …splashing…

Now Peggy could hear some strange distant music. The harder she listened, the louder the music sounded. It was soft and delicate and very, very beautiful. It was like a harp, but, more than that, it was like a harp being played deep, deep under water. And then, from the watery harp, came a voice, light and deep at the The voice said – “Hello, Peggy.”

Peggy slowly opened her eyes. She saw the stone swan looking at her from the fountain. The swan bowed her long graceful neck – and then winked.

Peggy said, “Hello, Miranda,” and the words sounded far-far away, almost as if she wasn’t saying them herself and yet Peggy knew she was.

Miranda nodded at Peggy’s wheelchair and said, “Move over here, Peggy. Closer. It’s nicer here by the water.”

Peggy did as she was told and when she was right beside the fountain, she looked up at Miranda and asked, “How long have you lived in the fountain, Miranda?”

Miranda’s eyes glowed with a soft, golden light.

“Ever since the sun first began to shine.” The swan arched her long neck towards Peggy. Soft drops of water rained down like sparkling white feathers. “Now …” and Miranda’s neck was right beside Peggy, “you grab hold, around my neck. That’s right.”

Peggy could once again hear the watery sound of the harp as she held tight around Miranda’s neck and she was lifted up…up… onto the swan’s feathered back.

“Hold fast, Peggy,” Miranda called out. “My wings are a bit rusty. I’ve been sitting idle too long.”

Miranda started flapping her great wings and the flapping sound joined with the harp sound until they both filled Peggy’s head and she couldn’t hear her own heart beating anymore, she could only feel it beating into the swan’s feathers.

“Ohhhh,” cried Peggy as Miranda started slowly up from the fountain, “the water’s dripping from my legs, Miranda. It looks all like – like silver falling.”

Higher Miranda rose, her great wings flapping harder and harder, Peggy hanging tighter around Miranda’s neck. Higher. Higher.As the swan finally flew up and free of the fountain, her voice filled the whole of Peggy’s world as Miranda trumpeted out – “We’re going to fly to the sun and return with the moon.”

And Peggy and Miranda flew high into the sky.

The wind was blowing through Peggy’s hair and her pigtails were coming loose, streaming out behind her like silken banners.

“We’re – flying, Miranda!”

The swan looked back at Peggy and winked.

“What else were you expecting?”

Peggy looked down, miles down, through billowing clouds.

“I can see – houses – and tiny cars – and tiny people. They all look like my brother’s tin soldiers. This is wonderful, Miranda!”

Miranda nodded her great snowy head.

“Glad you like it.”

“Now there’s water everywhere. And boats. Miranda – some day I want a boat. I’d share it with you. We could go on trips all – “

“Duck!” Miranda called out sharply. “Rain clouds coming up!”

The swan stretched her neck and body out even more. Peggy clung tight as they flew straight through the black rain clouds, fierce winds tearing at their heels.

“Are you still there, Peggy?”

“Oh, yes. I’m all drenched.” Peggy was laughing and feeling warm and so free and so completely comfortable.

“Don’t worry,” Miranda was laughing too. “You’ll dry off in a couple of seconds. We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” Peggy couldn’t wait to find out where they were headed.

“Why, almost where we’re going.” Miranda’s deep laugh was beautiful to hear. “Straight ahead. High by the highest.”

The swan pointed her head at the giant golden ball growing bigger, growing nearer. Peggy’s eyes opened wide, opened wider as Miranda sounded her trumpeting call and they flew towards the sun.

The swan set herself gracefully down on the sun. Peggy looked around, slowly, and said, slowly, “It’s so beautiful, Miranda. Gold and red everywhere. And orange. And all the colours are runny, like spaghetti rain.”

Miranda chuckled.

“Spaghetti rain? Well, I’ve never heard my home described quite that way before.”

“Your home?” Peggy was surprised. “Is the sun your home? You said the fountain in our garden was your home.”

“Ah,” Miranda winked one great eye at Peggy. “I said I’d lived in the fountain ever since the sun began to shine. That’s true. That’s where my body lives, Peggy. In your garden. But the sun is my true home. This is where I truly live. This is where my feelings live and are all mine and all free.”

As Miranda finished speaking, her voice trailing off with a swan sigh, there was a sudden rushing sound all around them, like flames. Peggy looked past Miranda, into the sun’s vast distance.

“Miranda – look!” Peggy could feel excitement building in her whole body. “What’s that? It’s so wonderful.”

Miranda said, quietly, “The Spire.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” whispered Peggy. And she never had. Not even in dreams. Nothing could be so beautiful.

“It’s like a – a rainbow of fire. I can see every colour in the world, Miranda.” Peggy shivered. “But it’s scary.”

“Why, Peggy?”

“Because … I guess because it’s so big.”

The Spire suddenly seemed to grow smaller. It didn’t disappear … but it did seem to grow smaller. Almost to back off a little. And the rushing sound, like flames, wasn’t as loud either.

“Peggy …” Miranda’s voice was very low, very gentle, a feathery whisper, “… would you like to visit the sun whenever you want to? Or anyplace else?”

“Whenever I want to?” Peggy asked. “Anytime?”

“Anytime.”

“With you?”

“Yes. With me.”

“Yes, Miranda. Yes!”

Miranda nodded.

“Then you must grab hold of The Spire and pull free a ribbon of fire.”

Peggy shrunk back.

“I have to touch it?”

“Yes, Peggy – you have to touch the sun’s spire.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, thanks,” said Peggy. “It’s too scary. It’ll burn me.”

Miranda was looking Peggy straight in the eyes. Her voice was still low, still feathery soft.

“If you pull free a ribbon of fire, you’ll have it with you always. Then, Peggy, then you’ll be able to fly here anytime. With me. And even without me. By yourself.”

Peggy shook her head.

“I wouldn’t want to go without you. But … it’ll burn me.” She sat very still on the swan’s back and tried not to think about touching The Spire. At last Peggy asked Miranda, “Has anyone else ever been to the sun with you?”

“Yes,” answered Miranda. “Once. A long time ago.”

“Who?”

“Your Mother. When she was a girl.”

“Did she – you know – did she touch The Spire?”

Miranda didn’t answer right away. When she did she said, sadly, “No. She almost did but – no.”

The Spire flared alarmingly huge again. Brilliant and almost blinding and filling the air with the rushing sound of its flaming colours. Peggy thought about everything Miranda had said, about everything the great snowy swan had told her. She clenched her fists.

“Okay, how do I do it, Miranda?”

Through the rushing of the flames, Peggy had to strain to hear Miranda as the swan called out to her …

“Hold tight around my neck with one hand, Peggy. And just reach out with the other….”

“Like this?”

“Lean out, Peggy. Way out…”

Peggy leaned out a bit more but then she started to pull back.

“I-I-can’t, Miranda! I’m scared. It’s so burning.”

Miranda’s voice was strong and steady, almost hard.

“Way out…!”

Peggy could feel her whole body shaking but she forced herself to listen only to the swan’s singing voice, forced herself to reach out … way out…

“I can’t see anything. It’s too bright. I can’t do it!” Peggy started crying. “I can’t do it. No, Miranda …”

The swan stretched her neck out, way out.She called to Peggy – “Don’t pull back. You’re so close, Peggy. A bit more. Go on. Reach. Now. Grab. Grab hold!”

Peggy stretched – stretched.Her fingers came close, so close, closer….

Until-

“I’m touching it! I’m touching it!”

“Grab, Peggy!” Miranda’s voice was a mighty singing command. “Grab the sun! Pull– pull!”

Peggy could feel her fingers pulling colours from The Spire.

“The colours are all over me. I can see everything in the world, Miranda – I’ve got it – I’ve got all the colours there ever were.”

And Peggy’s voice was filled with all the sun’s flaming colours as Miranda trumpeted in victory and Peggy sang out with the swan,

“Oh, Miranda – I’m holding the sun!”

 

Peggy sat in her wheelchair. She was looking at the big stone fountain in the middle of the garden and listening to the splashing of the water.

“Peggy…,” Mother called from the house. “I’ve got the lemonade ready.”

Mother came into the garden with a tray of glasses and a bowl of ice cubes.

“It’s blazing out.” Mother put the tray on the garden table. “Honey, maybe I’d better move you into some shade.”

“No, Mother,” Peggy fiercely shook her head. Her pigtails had come loose and they flopped sloppily about. “No, don’t move me. I love it in the sun.” She smiled at the stone swan in the fountain.

“Isn’t Miranda just so beautiful?”

Mother looked at Peggy’s sloppy hair and sighed.

“Miran-? Oh, the statue.”

“She’s not just a statue, Mother. Look – isn’t she beautiful in the sun?”

“Yes, of course, darling.” Mother started in straightening Peggy’s hair. She smiled down at Peggy who was still looking at the statue. Mother followed Peggy’s look over to the fountain and she couldn’t believe what she saw. She wouldn’t believe it. Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. She blinked many times.

“Peggy – what’s that around the statue? Around the neck. It looks like a – a ribbon. It can’t be….”

Peggy smiled.

“It’s sunshine, Mother.”

Mother’s legs felt weak, the colours were so beautiful. She just looked at them for a long time. Finally she said, almost to herself, “All those colours – why it’s like a rainbow. Isn’t that beautiful. A rainbow ribbon.”

Mother knelt down on the grass beside Peggy’s chair and held her daughter’s hand. Mother was looking at the rainbow ribbon with a faraway look in her eyes.

“I think, when I was a little girl,” Mother whispered, “I saw colours like that. Once.” But then she shook her head and stood up.

“No, I’m being silly.” She sighed. “The sun’s shifting. It’s going to storm later, I think.

“… Oh, the colours are fading, Peggy. Soon they’ll be gone.”

“No, Mother,” Peggy squeezed her Mother’s hand. “They won’t be gone. Not ever.”

Originally published in White Wall Review 12 (1988)