The Creek Games

Once every summer, when the creek runs bright and the meadow hums, the Land holds its favorite festival: the Creek Games.

C came chasing a butterfly, curious and clever. K came hopping through the meadow grass, kind and never still for a second.

"Good morning!" said C. "Kuh." "Good morning!" said K. "Kuh."

They stopped. They stared. Two different letters. One exact same sound. K's hopping slowed. C's smile drooped. Both friends thought the very same worried thought: if we make the same sound... maybe the Land only needs one of us.

A horn made of honeysuckle sounded, and the games began. "First event — the Word Sprint! When you see me, or O, or U standing next," said A, "C takes the field."

So C sprinted to the front. C. A. T. A soft gray cat strolled across the clearing and curled up in the sun. C. O. T. A little cot appeared, and the cat moved right in. C. U. P. A cup of creek-cold water for every player.

K stood at the edge of the meadow, kicking a pebble.

Then E and I stepped onto the field. "Second event — spell KEY!" called E, looking right at K. "When you see me or I standing next, the field is yours."

K blinked. Then K hopped to the front, heart kicking like a grasshopper. K. E. Y. A small golden key dropped into K's hand, warm as a sunbeam. K. I. T. E. Up over the creek sailed a red kite, looping and diving while the whole meadow cheered.

"K! You were wonderful!" called C. "So were you!" laughed K. "I suppose we both have our own positions to play."

"But now," announced the vowels, "the final event — the Creek Relay! Spell the ending of DUCK... ROCK... KICK!"

C ran to the end of the first word. K tried the next. Alone, something was always missing.

"Some endings," said U, "are too quick for one letter alone. After a short, quick vowel sound, it takes two."

C looked at K. K looked at C. And right there at the creek's edge, they linked arms and became team CK — dapper and diligent, gliding together like two dragonflies flying as one.

D  ·  U  ·  CK DUCK A mallard splashed down in the creek, quacking applause.

R  ·  O  ·  CK ROCK Stepping stones rose in a path across the water.

K  ·  I  ·  CK KICK Every letter in the clearing kicked up their heels at once.

The games ended in a tie. On purpose. They end in a tie every single year.

"Because the Land does not need one of you," said A, hanging a daisy-chain medal on C, on K, and a long one across team CK together. "It needs all three. C has C's field. K has K's field. And some endings can only be finished together."

C and K walked home along the singing creek — the golden key in K's pocket, the gray cat trailing behind them, the kite bobbing at C's wrist in the evening blue.

Two letters. One sound. Three positions.

And a whole Land that needed every one.