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Miracle, The Ringtailed Wonder: Here Comes... Miracle!
Officially debuting my furry superheroine character Miracle! Enjoy!
September 19, 1991
1:30 P.M., Savannah Memorial Hospital
Gloria Flaherty, a 27-year old raccoon, rested in a hospital bed in the maternity ward, cradling her newborn girl in her arms. She had named her Erin. The little one was gingerly wrapped in a white fleece blanket.
Erin’s chrrs and cries soon quieted and the kit looked up at her new mother.
Gloria could only look at her cloudy grey eyes.
The doctor in charge, a lynx, seemed to compose himself before he spoke.
“Ms. Flaherty, I’m afraid your daughter is blind. Based on what we can tell, I don’t think there’s any chance of her ever being able to see...” he said solemnly.
Gloria nodded as she continued to look at her daughter. “I understand,” she said
Erin’s tiny paw reached out and grasped her mother’s finger. Gloria could only smile.
“We’ll get through it somehow,” she said confidently.
* * *
October 14, 1995
Gloria and Erin lived alone in a small apartment building near Gloria’s office, where she worked as a secretary. Erin was beloved by her mother, who called her “her little miracle.” She had been widowed for five years, while Gloria was pregnant with Erin, her husband Derek disappeared under mysterious circumstances. She refused to let her daughter know about that, never talking about him. She even went so far as to hide pictures of him, even though Erin would never see them. Gloria didn’t want to forget him, but Erin could never know about him, at any cost. She took small comfort in that her brother Randy was kind enough to come visit and be with Erin. He served admirably as a father figure to Erin, which is what she needed. Of course, he could never be her real father.
However, that problem was the least of Gloria's worries.
Erin seemed to act like a normal child. She needed no help finding her toys. She could go everywhere in the house by herself, not once needing a cane. Gloria talked to Erin’s doctors about this and they told her Erin was still as blind as the day she was born. They were confused about it as well.
How could this be?
That night, as the now-familiar sounds of playoff baseball played on the radio, Gloria sat Erin in her lap on their small tan loveseat couch.
“Erin, honey?”
“Yes, mommy?” she said, looking up at her with a smile.
“Tell me the truth... can you see things?” she asked.
“Sort of!” she said brightly. Gloria raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean ‘sort of’? Can you tell the colors of things?”
Erin shook her head, knowing her mother told her of the concept of colors. “Nuh uh, it’s dark... but I can still see you.”
Gloria didn’t understand. “Can you show me?”
Erin nodded and reached up with her right finger, tracing a path around Gloria. It was exact and precise, trailing around her mother’s shoulders, neck, hair and ears. When she finished, Gloria just hugged her daughter. Erin returned the hug and heard a sob and felt tears drip on her face.
“Mommy? Did I make you sad?” she asked worriedly. Gloria stroked Erin’s hair gently.
“No, Erin, not at all. I’m happy... sometimes furs cry when they’re happy...”
Erin nodded.
“I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, my little miracle...”
* * *
When Erin reached elementary school age, Gloria encouraged her daughter to go to school to be with other children and learn. Though she was made to take a cane and wear dark sunglasses, she amazed her young classmates by identifying things around her without having to feel them. The young raccoon could feel her classmates playing around her during recess based on the vibrations they made, and the subtle air currents. She could even identify most of them by their smells, and naturally, she could hear them all.
Throughout her school years, Erin made several friends. Her best friend, whom she had over to her home frequently, was a red-haired vixen named Cindy Laroque.
As she reached her teenage years, Erin started to feel alienated with some of her teachers and classmates. She sometimes felt that praises for her high grades were tempered with the fact that she couldn’t see. Cindy was the only one who was able to dissuade her from those slightly paranoid feelings. At the very least, though, she didn’t feel the need to use her “super sense” to impress anyone anymore.
No one was prouder than Gloria when Erin graduated from high school and went to Savannah State University. Deciding to focus on her work, only sometimes going out with Cindy to eat, Erin graduated with a degree in library science. Shortly after, she acquired her own apartment and got a job at the local library, which had a specialized Braille division. She seemed to finally have a better place in her life.
* * *
May 10, 2012
7:00 P. M.
Erin and her mother walked down the sidewalk, dusk setting on the city and the street lights just starting to illuminate.
“I’m surprised you tried cookies and cream tonight, Mom. I always thought you liked pistachio,” Erin said. Her mother laughed.
“Well, sometimes I do like to change it up, honey.”
“How? The last time you ate anything other than cookies and cream was when you were pregnant with me!”
“I don’t eat all my ice cream with you,” she said with a smile. They turned the corner and Erin’s ears twitched instinctively.
Suddenly, a fur dressed in a hoodie and ski mask jumped out from the alleyway, and it looked like he had an aluminum bat in his paws.
“All right, babes: give me your purses right now and no one gets hurt!” he hissed, grabbing on to Erin’s arm and snatching her handbag. The young raccoon froze, a shiver running down her spine. The thief even smelled threatening, his wolf smell clear to her.
“Get away from us, you jerk!” Gloria growled as he tried to grab her purse. The wolf growled and yanked on the purse.
“I said give it to me!”
“No! Help!” Gloria yelled, trying to hold on to her handbag. Frustrated, the thief swung at Gloria’s side. She yelped and let go of her purse. The thief quickly turned and ran, clutching their handbags. Erin could only see her mother drop to her knees and moan in pain, holding her right arm.
* * *
10:45 P. M.
Erin sat by her mother’s hospital bed, her head bowed down. Her ears had been pressed to her head in shame since her mother had been laid in the hospital bed an hour ago. They had briefly talked to police that evening and Gloria described the thief as best she could to them.
“Mom, I’m so sorry...” she said for the third time. Gloria responded by patting her on the shoulder with her right paw.
“Please, Mom, don’t use that paw. Your arm...” she said.
“Erin, stop. Be thankful you weren’t hurt.”
“But you were! I could have done something!” Erin said, her voice raising.
“Erin, I said stop,” Gloria said abruptly. Erin shut her mouth and stifled a whimper, feeling a little like she once did when she was punished as a little girl. The guilt certainly was making her feel that way.
“Remember what the doctors said, honey. Nothing in my arm was broken. It’s just a deep bone bruise. They said I’ll just need rest and time to heal. I’ll be out of the hospital tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know, I heard it all,” Erin said in reply. Gloria nodded and patted her arm.
“Then go home. Get some rest in your own bed and go to your new job. A good night’s sleep always does wonders. Our lives can go back to normal. I’ll be out of the hospital tomorrow and I’ll come see you, I promise,” she said.
"But I can't just leave you here, Mom."
"Go home, Erin. For me. I think it'll be best for you," Gloria said in a tone that invited no more discussion
Erin sighed and nodded a little, leaning over and hugging Gloria gently.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, my little miracle.”
* * *
May 11
1:30 A.M.
Erin laid in her bed, the covers pulled up to her shoulders, the new white sheets feeling fresh and cool. But her night was anything but restful. She could only think of the incident. The fuzzy silhouette of the wolf thief. The way she felt when she froze. The image of her mother kneeling on the ground, in pain.
She could have done something. She was right there. She knew where that mugger was, what he was doing. She knew he only had a bat. He was as vivid as if she could see.
Why didn’t she do anything?!
The prowler had only taken money and things. The credit cards would be canceled, the jewelry replaced. But the experience would never change.
All her life, Erin’s mother had told her she was just like everyone else. That meant she was capable of being normal.
No, she wasn’t.
She was different.
She had these amazing powers. She had to do something with them. Something that would help assure that no harm would come to people around her, that they would be able to live without fear.
* * *
July 23
9:20 P. M.
The prowler clutched a new handbag, the older badger woman he stole it from running after him.
“Thief! Someone stop him!” she screamed. He ducked into the alley, laughing because he found a getaway route at the corner.
Suddenly, a dark figure leapt from the catwalk of the left brick building and into his path.
“Seems you have something that doesn’t belong to you,” she said. The prowler growled and pulled out a pistol.
“Out of my way, girlie!”
A strike to his wrist disarmed the crook and a quick kick to his chin knocked him out cold. The figure picked up the handbag and walked out of the alley, meeting its owner just steps away.
The figure was a female raccoon, with long wavy black hair, dressed in a green bodysuit, her paws and feetpaws exposed. Her eyes were hidden by the green visor on her face. She gave the handbag back to the owner, who looked genuinely shocked.
“Don’t forget to call the police, ma’am,” the heroine said.
“Er, thank you... who are you?”
The raccoon backed into the darkness of the alley, a small smile on her lips.
“Call me Miracle.”
Miracle/Erin Flaherty, Gloria Flaherty, Cindy Laroque ©
Sam Gwosdz
Picture ©
Spiderfoxtail
Colmaton universe ©
TRAIN
September 19, 1991
1:30 P.M., Savannah Memorial Hospital
Gloria Flaherty, a 27-year old raccoon, rested in a hospital bed in the maternity ward, cradling her newborn girl in her arms. She had named her Erin. The little one was gingerly wrapped in a white fleece blanket.
Erin’s chrrs and cries soon quieted and the kit looked up at her new mother.
Gloria could only look at her cloudy grey eyes.
The doctor in charge, a lynx, seemed to compose himself before he spoke.
“Ms. Flaherty, I’m afraid your daughter is blind. Based on what we can tell, I don’t think there’s any chance of her ever being able to see...” he said solemnly.
Gloria nodded as she continued to look at her daughter. “I understand,” she said
Erin’s tiny paw reached out and grasped her mother’s finger. Gloria could only smile.
“We’ll get through it somehow,” she said confidently.
* * *
October 14, 1995
Gloria and Erin lived alone in a small apartment building near Gloria’s office, where she worked as a secretary. Erin was beloved by her mother, who called her “her little miracle.” She had been widowed for five years, while Gloria was pregnant with Erin, her husband Derek disappeared under mysterious circumstances. She refused to let her daughter know about that, never talking about him. She even went so far as to hide pictures of him, even though Erin would never see them. Gloria didn’t want to forget him, but Erin could never know about him, at any cost. She took small comfort in that her brother Randy was kind enough to come visit and be with Erin. He served admirably as a father figure to Erin, which is what she needed. Of course, he could never be her real father.
However, that problem was the least of Gloria's worries.
Erin seemed to act like a normal child. She needed no help finding her toys. She could go everywhere in the house by herself, not once needing a cane. Gloria talked to Erin’s doctors about this and they told her Erin was still as blind as the day she was born. They were confused about it as well.
How could this be?
That night, as the now-familiar sounds of playoff baseball played on the radio, Gloria sat Erin in her lap on their small tan loveseat couch.
“Erin, honey?”
“Yes, mommy?” she said, looking up at her with a smile.
“Tell me the truth... can you see things?” she asked.
“Sort of!” she said brightly. Gloria raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean ‘sort of’? Can you tell the colors of things?”
Erin shook her head, knowing her mother told her of the concept of colors. “Nuh uh, it’s dark... but I can still see you.”
Gloria didn’t understand. “Can you show me?”
Erin nodded and reached up with her right finger, tracing a path around Gloria. It was exact and precise, trailing around her mother’s shoulders, neck, hair and ears. When she finished, Gloria just hugged her daughter. Erin returned the hug and heard a sob and felt tears drip on her face.
“Mommy? Did I make you sad?” she asked worriedly. Gloria stroked Erin’s hair gently.
“No, Erin, not at all. I’m happy... sometimes furs cry when they’re happy...”
Erin nodded.
“I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, my little miracle...”
* * *
When Erin reached elementary school age, Gloria encouraged her daughter to go to school to be with other children and learn. Though she was made to take a cane and wear dark sunglasses, she amazed her young classmates by identifying things around her without having to feel them. The young raccoon could feel her classmates playing around her during recess based on the vibrations they made, and the subtle air currents. She could even identify most of them by their smells, and naturally, she could hear them all.
Throughout her school years, Erin made several friends. Her best friend, whom she had over to her home frequently, was a red-haired vixen named Cindy Laroque.
As she reached her teenage years, Erin started to feel alienated with some of her teachers and classmates. She sometimes felt that praises for her high grades were tempered with the fact that she couldn’t see. Cindy was the only one who was able to dissuade her from those slightly paranoid feelings. At the very least, though, she didn’t feel the need to use her “super sense” to impress anyone anymore.
No one was prouder than Gloria when Erin graduated from high school and went to Savannah State University. Deciding to focus on her work, only sometimes going out with Cindy to eat, Erin graduated with a degree in library science. Shortly after, she acquired her own apartment and got a job at the local library, which had a specialized Braille division. She seemed to finally have a better place in her life.
* * *
May 10, 2012
7:00 P. M.
Erin and her mother walked down the sidewalk, dusk setting on the city and the street lights just starting to illuminate.
“I’m surprised you tried cookies and cream tonight, Mom. I always thought you liked pistachio,” Erin said. Her mother laughed.
“Well, sometimes I do like to change it up, honey.”
“How? The last time you ate anything other than cookies and cream was when you were pregnant with me!”
“I don’t eat all my ice cream with you,” she said with a smile. They turned the corner and Erin’s ears twitched instinctively.
Suddenly, a fur dressed in a hoodie and ski mask jumped out from the alleyway, and it looked like he had an aluminum bat in his paws.
“All right, babes: give me your purses right now and no one gets hurt!” he hissed, grabbing on to Erin’s arm and snatching her handbag. The young raccoon froze, a shiver running down her spine. The thief even smelled threatening, his wolf smell clear to her.
“Get away from us, you jerk!” Gloria growled as he tried to grab her purse. The wolf growled and yanked on the purse.
“I said give it to me!”
“No! Help!” Gloria yelled, trying to hold on to her handbag. Frustrated, the thief swung at Gloria’s side. She yelped and let go of her purse. The thief quickly turned and ran, clutching their handbags. Erin could only see her mother drop to her knees and moan in pain, holding her right arm.
* * *
10:45 P. M.
Erin sat by her mother’s hospital bed, her head bowed down. Her ears had been pressed to her head in shame since her mother had been laid in the hospital bed an hour ago. They had briefly talked to police that evening and Gloria described the thief as best she could to them.
“Mom, I’m so sorry...” she said for the third time. Gloria responded by patting her on the shoulder with her right paw.
“Please, Mom, don’t use that paw. Your arm...” she said.
“Erin, stop. Be thankful you weren’t hurt.”
“But you were! I could have done something!” Erin said, her voice raising.
“Erin, I said stop,” Gloria said abruptly. Erin shut her mouth and stifled a whimper, feeling a little like she once did when she was punished as a little girl. The guilt certainly was making her feel that way.
“Remember what the doctors said, honey. Nothing in my arm was broken. It’s just a deep bone bruise. They said I’ll just need rest and time to heal. I’ll be out of the hospital tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know, I heard it all,” Erin said in reply. Gloria nodded and patted her arm.
“Then go home. Get some rest in your own bed and go to your new job. A good night’s sleep always does wonders. Our lives can go back to normal. I’ll be out of the hospital tomorrow and I’ll come see you, I promise,” she said.
"But I can't just leave you here, Mom."
"Go home, Erin. For me. I think it'll be best for you," Gloria said in a tone that invited no more discussion
Erin sighed and nodded a little, leaning over and hugging Gloria gently.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, my little miracle.”
* * *
May 11
1:30 A.M.
Erin laid in her bed, the covers pulled up to her shoulders, the new white sheets feeling fresh and cool. But her night was anything but restful. She could only think of the incident. The fuzzy silhouette of the wolf thief. The way she felt when she froze. The image of her mother kneeling on the ground, in pain.
She could have done something. She was right there. She knew where that mugger was, what he was doing. She knew he only had a bat. He was as vivid as if she could see.
Why didn’t she do anything?!
The prowler had only taken money and things. The credit cards would be canceled, the jewelry replaced. But the experience would never change.
All her life, Erin’s mother had told her she was just like everyone else. That meant she was capable of being normal.
No, she wasn’t.
She was different.
She had these amazing powers. She had to do something with them. Something that would help assure that no harm would come to people around her, that they would be able to live without fear.
* * *
July 23
9:20 P. M.
The prowler clutched a new handbag, the older badger woman he stole it from running after him.
“Thief! Someone stop him!” she screamed. He ducked into the alley, laughing because he found a getaway route at the corner.
Suddenly, a dark figure leapt from the catwalk of the left brick building and into his path.
“Seems you have something that doesn’t belong to you,” she said. The prowler growled and pulled out a pistol.
“Out of my way, girlie!”
A strike to his wrist disarmed the crook and a quick kick to his chin knocked him out cold. The figure picked up the handbag and walked out of the alley, meeting its owner just steps away.
The figure was a female raccoon, with long wavy black hair, dressed in a green bodysuit, her paws and feetpaws exposed. Her eyes were hidden by the green visor on her face. She gave the handbag back to the owner, who looked genuinely shocked.
“Don’t forget to call the police, ma’am,” the heroine said.
“Er, thank you... who are you?”
The raccoon backed into the darkness of the alley, a small smile on her lips.
“Call me Miracle.”
Miracle/Erin Flaherty, Gloria Flaherty, Cindy Laroque ©
Sam GwosdzPicture ©
SpiderfoxtailColmaton universe ©
TRAIN
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Raccoon
Size 317 x 561px
File Size 137.3 kB
Listed in Folders
Very cool Sam. I kind of blubbed a few times because I'm a sucker for son/mother daughter/mother relationships. That was beautiful, informative and a good start for me to read. I liked it and kind of had teary eyes where she takes her name Miracle. Sorry for taking this long to get around to read this.
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