A Nest for Celeste by Henry Cole

been hiding from me! Shame on you, Puss! Time for your breakfast!” Eliza carried the cat down the stairs, fussing and cooing. Celeste made a dash for the attic knothole.
    It was a relief to be within the relative safety of the attic, and Celeste smiled contentedly at the thought of her warm, cottony bed with the soft satin pillows.
    She unpacked her goodies, stowed her baskets, and nibbled a bread crumb as she made her way up the steps to her bedroom.
    “Well, well, well,” squeaked a vaguely familiar voice. “You finally made it home. I hope you brought back something to eat.”
    Celeste stared as the cool, gray, dawn light came creeping into the bedroom. There, stretched across her bed, pinched face and beady eyes poking out from beneath the pink blanket, was Trixie.

 
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
An Unwanted Housemate
    C at got your tongue, Celeste?” Trixie yawned, showing her pointy teeth and fleshy gums. “What do you have there…a bread crumb? I’d have thought you’d bringhome something more substantial than that. There better be more downstairs.”

    Celeste felt all her blood surge to her feet; they seemed frozen to the floor. Her ears buzzed, and her mouth was dry. She stifled a gurgled cry, as suddenly her nest seemed unsafe, uncertain, and unhappy.
    “Yes, it’s me,” continued Trixie. “Don’t look so surprised. Aren’t you happy to see me?”
    “Trixie! Yes…yes, of course!” Celeste felt her voice stumble. “It’s just so unexpected!”
    “I hid in the cellar for weeks. I saw you one night from the dining room as you were heading up the stairs. I wondered why you were going up and so I followed you. That darned cat almost got me this morning. Well…don’t just stand there like a ninny; go fetch me something to eat. I found your stash of raisins, and the piece of pork rind.”
    “You ate the pork rind? All of it?” Celeste had been saving it for several dinners that week.
    “Yes, all of it! That snively little morsel was barely a mouthful. And what’s that thing?” Trixie pointed to the nearby gondola on the windowsill. “Still making these silly baskets, I see. It looks like you got a little carried away with this one.”
    “Yes, you could say that,” replied Celeste.
    “How do you carry food in this? It’d be too heavy once it was filled.”
    “It wasn’t made for food, Trixie. It was made for me.”
    “Come again?”
    “I took a ride in it. A friend, an osprey, carried the basket with me in it and took me for a ride.”
    “What?”
    “My friend Lafayette carried the basket, and we went all over the countryside. It was wonderful.”
    “You’re lying. That’s impossible.”
    Celeste was quiet.
    Trixie glared at her. “If this osprey—whatever thatis—who took you on a trip around the countryside is such a good friend, then he wouldn’t mind taking me on one, too, would he?”

    “Oh, I couldn’t ask Lafaye—”
    “Why not? You think you’re so, so special, don’t you? So high and mighty, living in this fancy place, going on flying trips…. You’re just too good for your old friends now, is that it?”
    “No, Trixie, it’s just that I couldn’t ask…”
    “Look, you tell your friend that Miss Trixie wants to be taken for a ride. Tell him that I want to go higher , and farther , than you ! Tell him that!”
    “Well, you see, Trixie…”
    “Tell him!”

 
     
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Trixie Takes Off…
    C eleste watched for Lafayette above the treetops, returning from a fishing trip; and after a few days she spotted his flapping and gliding silhouette. She waved and raced back and forth across the sill, signaling to him.
    Lafayette was surprised to meet Trixie. He didn’t understand why Celeste seemed different, too. She was very quiet and wouldn’t look him in the eye. But he agreed to take Trixie for a ride in the gondola, and Trixie clambered in.
    “You made this thing too small!” she complained.
    Celeste and Lafayette exchanged looks. Trixie was a