The old grandfather clock in the hall chimed the half-hour. Owl looked up from his book and over his reading glasses at the hands of the clock face; it was 12:30 in the morning. They were late. He turned his head toward the picture window overlooking the western meadow where blithe spirits of light and shadow played under a full moon. He looked back at the grandfather clock, and blinked one eye.

He swung around at the sound of a knock at the door – urgent, yet quiet. Owl padded to the front door and opened it. Standing there in the circle of his front porch light were Sparrow and Mole. “Come in, come in,” said Owl with animation.

The two entered and Owl took their coats, and as he hung them in the hall closet, motioned them in the direction of the sitting room. Owl followed them into the room, and the two visitors sat down next to the fireplace. Owl remained standing and put his wing on the mantle. He smiled gently, and said, “Now, children, tell me what is so urgent that we have to meet at this hour.”

Earlier that day, Owl was sitting at a table in his courtroom at the House of Burgess, putting the finishing touches on a document for the field mouse twins, new arrivals to the Evergreen Forest, when Mole entered, and begging their pardon, quietly asked Owl if he had time to talk about something terribly important.

“Of course,” Owl said, “Come sit down. I’m just concluding some business for the twins; I won’t be long.”

Mole thanked the judge, but said he wanted to speak in private, and besides, Sparrow wanted to be present as well.

“May we come by your oak tree tonight around midnight?” asked Mole.

“Hmmm, that is a bit unusual, but if you think it’s important, why not? Besides, I tend to be awake at that hour anyway,” said Owl.

Mole thanked the judge a second time, and apologized to the twins, and turned and left. Owl blinked his large eyes.

Mole cleared his throat, and looked at Owl standing near the fireplace. “You know that my parents are from the Woodlands to the south,” said Mole.

“They came in the late 30s, as I recall,” said Owl; “from near the Painted Desert, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” nodded Mole. “And, you know that Sparrow’s parents have lived long in the Evergreen Forest.” Mole paused. “You’ve known the two of us since we were children, Judge Owl,” said Mole.

Owl nodded and smiled.

“We played together down by the river during the summers, and bundled up in woolens when the snows came,” continued Mole. “We even went to the same school near the shifting dunes of the Painted Desert. And when Sparrow went away to Flight College and I stayed and entered the mining engineering program at Evergreen University, we kept in touch with each other through Pigeon-mail.”

“Yes; I recall Sparrow’s parents telling me so,” said Owl. “And when you both graduated with honors from your respective universities, all creatures of the Forest and Woodland were so proud,” smiled Owl.

“Yes,” said Mole. Mole looked at Sparrow, and took her wing and squeezed it. She smiled, and the two looked back at Owl.

“You’re telling me that you are what your generation calls ‘an item?’” said Owl.

Mole looked surprised, while Sparrow, embarrassed, smiled and nodded. “How did you…,” stammered Mole.

“How did I know?” interrupted Owl, smiling broadly. “Come, come,” he said. “You are both so obviously in love, I would have had to have been sleep-flying to have missed that,” he continued. His smile broadened even more, his large wide-set eyes gleaming. “So, what is the problem, then, children? Why the secrecy, and why this midnight meeting?” asked Owl.

Sparrow sighed, and said. “It had been so easy when we were young. No one said anything when we played together; and when we had classes together in school, it didn’t bother anyone that we were together a lot.”

“All of a sudden being different became a problem – an issue – and some creatures began to whisper behind our backs when they heard that she and I were sending Pigeon-mails back and forth while we were away at college,” said Mole. “And during holiday break more so-called friends raised eyebrows and clucked tongues when they saw us together at Finch’s Fountain after a movie.”

Owl nodded, and came and sat down across the coffee table from his young guests. “Ahh,” nodded Owl, “the transiency of relationships,” and his eyes blinked twice.

“Do any of your friends understand?” queried Owl.

A smile came over the faces of Sparrow and Mole, and they nodded together.

“Hummingbird and Tortoise have stood by us through all this, and Finch and Beaver are happy for us,” said Mole. “But the others have avoided us since we’ve returned to the Evergreen Forest, and that hurts.” Sparrow had a tear in her eyes, and Owl rose and brought her a box of tissues.

“What about your parents,” asked Owl. “Where are they in all this?”

Owl listened intently, as Sparrow shared that her parents were quite stunned at first, and had wanted her to marry a nice bird of a feather from the Evergreen Forest. She said, “They’re taking it very hard. They know Mole and like him as a friend,” she said, “but the idea of us getting married – well, they’re really very upset.”

Mole sighed, and interjected, “My parents are having a difficult time with this relationship, too. They wouldn’t talk with me about it for a long time. God knows I tried – but they are pretty upset,” said Mole.

“This has never happened in our family before, ever. And, of course, they’re more concerned with what creatures in the Woodlands and Dunes will say,” said Mole. “And what hurts most, they can’t face telling our family in the Painted Desert at all!”

“What do you think they’ll do?” asked Owl.

“I don’t know, Judge Owl. My parents still have a hard time talking with me about it – I don’t know what they’ll do,” said Mole.

Sparrow nodded her head, and added, “Mine, too.”

Owl got up and went over to the large picture window. The lights and shadows under the full moon were slipping into deeper shades of darkness as the moon slipped beyond the Purple Mountains to the west. The night was passing, and the skies to the east were taking on their predawn lavender hues.

Owl was deep in thought, but his demeanor was light and upbeat. Sparrow felt anxious, and not a little depressed by all this. Mole cleared his throat, and the sound brought Owl back from some distant place.

“Well, children,” said Owl, “I think the time has come to take some forthright steps in this matter!” and he turned to them and took a small slip of paper from the inside pocket under his wing and held it out to Sparrow.

“Here, this will gain you audience with a friend of mine who is versed in these matters. I have mentioned this to him, and he awaits your call.”

Mole looked at Sparrow, and both looking puzzled, turned to Owl.

“Hmmm,” said Owl, “yes, well, I took the liberty of discussing your plight with my friend several days ago, and he said of course he would meet with you. How did I come to discuss this with someone several days ago, when I just heard your plight tonight?” Owl posed rhetorically to himself.

“Well, I have known both your parents for a long time, even before you both were born. I know you two very well. And, I am somewhat skilled in reading people and their unsaid thoughts, and your parents are neither bad people nor unreadable, frankly.”

Owl came over and sat down next to Sparrow, and handed her the business card. Owl leaned back, and putting his feathertips together under his chin, blinked twice.

“Who is this friend?” asked Mole, puzzled, “and how can he help us?”

Owl chuckled, and touched Mole on his knee. “He’s a social worker, and he’s very good at what he does. His name is Harlequin Duck, and you can reach him through his E-mail address there on his card.”

Mole held the card up to the light: FlyByKnight@flock.com.

“Here, you can use the computer in my office,” and he led the young couple into the next room.

Mole typed a message and rubbed his forehead, typed in his password, and hit the send key. “It’s gone,” he said to Sparrow. “I hope it’s going to work.”

“I hope he’s nice, like Judge Owl said,” whispered Sparrow.

“Yeah, me too,” added Mole.

Owl, in the next room, blinked one eye and smiled.

“We’ve got E-mail!” shouted Mole, his eyes aglow.

Owl joined the two young lovebirds at the console and read the message on the screen: “Hi Y’all, meaning Sparrow & Mole,” it began. “I have time at 3:00 tomorrow – can you meet me at my office in the Forest Mall? – we can go for a soda at Finch’s Fountain.”

Mole clicked the reply button, and typed in, “Yes, 3:00 is fine. We’ll be there,” and was ready to send.

“Ask him if we need to bring anything,” whispered Sparrow.

Mole typed in a PS, and hit the send button.

Owl put his wings around Mole’s and Sparrow’s shoulders, and said, “I think you’re going to like Harley, and not to worry, things are going to happen, now.”

Harlequin Duck was an outgoing and friendly bird, a free spirit with an easy way with words, and a twinkle in his steel-grey eyes that lit his face up like a 4^th of July fireworks show. He wore a tie, but it wasn’t tied tight, and the color didn’t quite go with his shirt. His shirt was rumpled, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

Harlequin’s shoes were scuffed, and the sole of the left had a hole in it showing his sock when he crossed his legs. And, his crown feathers were ruffled. Sparrow liked him immediately, and he hadn’t really said anything yet.

Mole looked Harlequin up and down, and did a double take.

“Do you like chocolate truffles?” asked Harlequin, his eyes gleaming, catching the couple off guard.

“Umhmm,” the two nodded shyly. “Here, there’s this nice little shop around the corner that caters to one’s worst and most devilish delights,” he said, and he chuckled.

“So, how do you know Judge Owl?” asked Harlequin as they sat down in a booth and ordered their chocolate treats.

“Umm, our parents have been friends for a long time, and he’s known us since we were born,” started Sparrow hesitatingly.

“Yeah, I’ve known him all my life,” said Mole.

Harlequin smiled, and said, “Owl and I go way back, too. We were in undergraduate school together at the Mockingbird Institute of Evergreen Forest, and he went on to law school and I went to graduate school in social work. Those were the days, my friends!” said Harlequin, and he waxed just a little nostalgic.

“Now, I want you to relax. We can take what time we need, and we’ll get to your concerns soon enough. But first tell me about yourselves,” said Harlequin, and he sat back against the wall of the booth.

For the next 45 minutes, the two love birds talked about their childhoods, and Harlequin nodded now and again, his smile easing the discomfort for the two of talking to someone largely a stranger.

But, Harlequin’s manner soothed their tensions, and with a question here or there, they relaxed into a comfortable rhythm of sharing anecdotes, laughing about certain events, while their eyes teared up over others. In the end, Harlequin heard a word and feeling picture that gave him a sense of the two lovebirds, and what they were leading up to with their concerns.

“OK, tell me, what are your parents like?” asked Harlequin.

“My dad’s very strict,” said Mole without hesitation, “and not very flexible.”

“Umhmm,” muttered Harlequin.

“He’s a civil engineer specializing in tunnels, and very intelligent.”

“What kind of music does he like?” asked Harlequin.

“Umm, mostly classical, I think,” answered Mole, looking puzzled, “but he also likes Willie Nuthatch and Reba Nightingale.”

“Hmmm,” said Harlequin, “a man after my own heart! What about your mother? What does she do, and what’s her music?”

“Well, she’s an archaeologist at the university, and is more into religious music, you know, church type music.”

“What about your folks, Sparrow?”

“My Mom’s into light rock and jazz, and my Dad likes the golden oldies from the 50s. I kinda like them myself,” she added.

“And what do they do?” asked Harlequin his face open, his eyes set on Sparrow.

“My Mom used to be a flight attendant, but when I came along, she took to technical writing and works at home. She sends her work to her customers electronically. She’s done that for a while, now. It was nice having her at home while I was growing up. And my Dad is Chief Air Traffic Controller at the International Airport.”

Mole sat forward, and asked, “Why do you want to know all this stuff about our parents?” a tinge of impatience in his voice.

“Oh, just so’s I’d know a little more about you two,” Harlequin answered. “You know, you’re an awful lot like them…!”

Mole sat back as though he’d been struck, and his eyes widened. Sparrow put her wingtip to her mouth, and a frown wrinkled her brow.

“Hey, relax…! You’d think I’d just told you you had the biggest zits on your noses! Of course, you’re like them, how could you not be?” and putting down a generous bill to cover their treats, motioned for the two to come with him.

They walked through the mall, and out toward the Meadowlands to the south. As they walked, Harlequin listened, and his eyes glowed with an energy that touched Sparrow and Mole. They shared more of their parents, and some about each other, and Harlequin said things, like, “You do know what they think…” and “isn’t that what you said earlier…?” and “you’re not so very different…” and “how could they do anything other…?” and “did you hear what you just said…?” and “your dreams aren’t too far off theirs…”

By the time they reached the edge of the Meadowlands, Sparrow shook her head, and said she felt things weren’t as confused as she had thought. “I didn’t realize how difficult this has been for my parents. You know, I didn’t think of it until just now, but they’ve not forbidden us from getting married. I think deep inside they want what’s best for us, and it’s not as though they dislike Mole.”

And a gleam came back into Sparrow’s eyes, and she cried a little. “They’re having a tough time because we’re doing something really different from anything they’ve done, and change is hard.”

Mole nodded, and put his arm around Sparrow’s shoulders.

“Hey, you’ve just made a very good start,” said Harlequin, and he winked and grasped both their hands.

“Maybe that’s enough for today, but how about another chocolate truffle just for good measure…?”