Original SWAT Kats Story

Summer in Dreams/Autumn GoodBye

By Cheese Danish

  • 2 Chapters
  • 4,348 Words

Chance suffers from a bad case of crytpomnesia, and it gives Jake and Chance a valued opportunity to examine their friendship.

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Chapter 2

Autumn GoodBye

Have you ever watched kids
on a merry go round?
Or listened to the rain
slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight?

You better slow down
Don’t dance so fast
Time is short
The music won’t last.

Do you run through each day
on the fly?
When you ask “How are you?”
Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done,
Do you lie in your bed?
With the next hundred chores
running through your head?

You better slow down
Don’t dance so fast.
Time is short
The music won’t last.

Ever told your child,
We’ll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,
Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die?
‘Cause you never had time
to call and say “Hi”?

You better slow down
Don’t dance so fast.
Time is short
The music won’t last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere,
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry
Through your day,
It is like an unopened gift
Thrown away.

 Life is not a race,
 Do take it slower
 Hear the music before
 the song is over

  Author Unknown

 

The leaves fell in orange and red cascades down in front of his nose. Jake looked up from the moist green grass and into the old climbing tree. It still towered with enormousness in front of him. Its branches had become more splayed, more climbable. As he gazed through the dying leaves that remained on the branches, the sun caught his eye a bit painfully. He looked down and saw something he had lost years and years ago.
Kneeling down, he ran a paw across the engravings that scarred the base of the tree. They read, in oddly formed cuts:

CF+JC
 Friends 4-ever

Jake smiled lightly, tearfully. He couldn’t believe that it was still there. After nearly twenty years. His claw picked a little dirt from the riffs.
All around him it was the silver smell of September. Beside him, at the junglegym in the sandbox, the tired play equipment lay untouched, the swings swayed in the lukewarm breeze, emitting their own squeaky song to the world. The falling leaves rustled as the chorus, and Jake’s voice provided the rhythm. The sun of the begrudging August that was trying to hold over until December hit his brow as he stepped from the shade of the tall tree. He walked through a foot-deep ocean of leaves to get to his car.
Doing so, he thought back to the day he and Chance had that gigantic leaf fight.
Of course, Chance started it.
He unlocked his door and climbed in. The tune on the radio was House of the Rising Sun. He blasted it to himself and sped down the road, toward the Salvage Yard. When he walked in, Chance was lying on the couch, asleep. He looked peaceful, for once.
Since his episode earlier in the year, the near past summer in fact, Chance had been doing a lot better. He was calmer, for one. In a way, it was a different Chance than the one he had known. He had grown to deeply care for a Chance that he always had to console. Jake was a fixer. And Chance was the seeker. It worked that way.
Jake realized he was staring at Chance, and turned to set his keys on the counter.

The End?

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