Insubstantial things are the hardest to catch, and the most sought after.

 For Gadget, the question is how she can...

Catch a Rainbow

by Meghan Elizabeth Brunner

   "Boy, am I exhausted!" Chip exclaimed after an all-night case as he and the other members of the newly-formed Rescue Rangers tiredly dragged themselves out of the Rangerplane, as the aircraft Gadget had created in Glacier Bay had been recently dubbed, and onto the cool marble of the fountain in the middle of the park.

   "Me too!" Zipper seconded, settling himself on the brim of Chip's hat.

   "I can't wait to get home and go to bed," Dale mumbled, about to start off to dreamland, bed or no.

   "My own bed," agreed Gadget with a smile echoing both the weather and her customary disposition: full of sunshine.

   "At least you have a home to go back to," Monterey voiced glumly, and Zipper nodded in forlorn agreement.

   "You know," Chip started, knowing he was about to enter a potentially touchy subject, "there always seems to be some job for the Rescue Rangers. Now that we're a team, maybe we should all live in one place, like a headquarters."

   "You could all come live with us!" Dale interjected excitedly. "We've got plenty of room in our tree!"

   "Why not?" wondered Monty, getting an affirmative nod from Zipper. "Where else do we have to go? An' there's always plenty of adventurin' 'round here."

   Dale grinned. As far as he was concerned, the battle was as good as won.

   But Chip wasn't so sure. He hadn't even known Gadget a week yet, but it had been enough time to pick up on most of her signals. The weather matched her usual disposition: sunny. But now? Sudden silence. Not a good sign. He knew she realized the others were looking at her, expecting an answer, but she just looked out over the park, where children laughed and shouted as they played. "Gadget?" he tried.

   She turned to face him but quickly looked at the ground. "I don't know. I miss home," she explained quietly.

   "But think of all the grand adventures we'll be havin'! You can't sit around home for the rest of your life, luv. Yer dad wouldn't want it that way."

   "You really think so, Monty?" She lifted her eyes to meet his.

   "Too right. An' if you don't like it, you can always go back. But I think you'll love it."

   "If you're sure..."

   "Look, luv. We can go back right away and pack up yer stuff an' move in their place in a couple o' days, okay?"

   "All right," she agreed, but Chip saw the uncertainty in her expression. "You boys need a ride home?"

   "Nope," the leader spoke up quickly. If she knew what a mess it is...

   "How long will it take you?" asked Dale before Chip could stop him.

   "Well, now," Monty pondered out loud. "It won't even take a day to get there an' back, an' I guess we'll need about five days to pack. 'Zat sound 'bout right to you, Gadget luv?"

   "I suppose," she shrugged, heading to her creation.

   "Great!" Chip enthused. "We'll see you then. We live in the biggest oak tree in the park. You can come with us, Zipper."

   Zipper turned to Monty, reluctant to leave his long-time pal to go with Chip and Dale, whom he hadn't even known a week.

   "Go ahead, Zip," Monty whispered, careful that Gadget wouldn't overhear from the Rangerplane. "Chip an' Dale prob'ly need help cleanin' up the place. Besides, I don't think Gadget wants too many people hangin' 'round. I'd stay behind, too, but she might need help liftin' some stuff."

   Zipper nodded understanding and followed after his chipmunk partners.

   Monty hopped in the Rangerplane, and they took off. "You'll like it there. You'll see."

   Gadget managed a weak smile, but gave no reply.

   Monty didn't make another attempt at conversation until after she landed her somewhat odd aircraft in the old wreck of a plane that had served as her home since before she could remember. "Well, I dunno 'bout you, luv, but I'm gonna bag some z's. It's been a hard few days, ya know."

   "Okay, Monty. You can take the guest room; the bed should be turned down. I think I'll turn in, too." Her tone made her sound like a prisoner allowed a last visit home before being sent to the chair.

   "Sweet dreams, luv," he called after her as she sleepily made her way to her bedroom.

   "Thanks, Monterey. You too," she returned, pausing only a moment.

   Monterey Jack got all the sleep. Afternoon sun streamed through the windows in Gadget's room, but that wasn't what kept her up. Knowing she possessed only five days to spend at the only home she had ever known, the place she had grown up in... that was the culprit. Restlessly she got up and went to her window. No rainbows. Not today. What did I expect?  That they'd be happy I'm leaving? With a sigh she proceeded to her workshop. The chair she had been making before leaving for Glacier Bay on the Rangers' first mission still sat half-finished on her workbench next to the photo of her father. Gingerly she picked the picture up. "I remember when I took this. I decided to build my own camera with a super-charged xenon flash on it because our pictures always came out under-exposed. I hadn't told you what I was working on; I just yelled 'smile' and took it from around the corner.  The flash blinded you for a few seconds, and it scared me so much to think I'd hurt you, but you were as good-natured as always. You just laughed and pulled me up on your lap and said, 'Whatcha got there? It packs quite a whallop!' After I

explained, you told me to go see if the picture turned out. I can remember it all like it was yesterday." She smiled. "You know, sometimes I actually expect you to say something back. Still, it would be nice if you could. These conversations get awfully one-sided." With a sigh she set it down.

   Absently she wandered into the kitchen. How often had Gadget run in the door to the smell of her father's cooking? He had never exactly been a gourmet, but it got them by for countless years. And it was certainly better than what little she remembered of the things Monterey Jack made. I hope he won't do much cooking at headquarters. "I think I'll make some cookies," she said to herself. "Chocolate chip. They

were always your favorite. Mine, too."

   A while later, a voice rang out through the kitchen. "What? Chocolate chip? They don't even have any cheese in 'em!"

   Gadget started and nearly dropped the last batch, fresh from the oven, all over the floor. "In a cookie?" she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Really, Monterey! You can't put cheese in everything!"

   "An' jus' why not?" he demanded. "Here. I'll show ya how to make a real lunch. An' don't go spoilin' yer appetite with those cookies, neither."

   As soon as he turned his back her hand darted to the nearest cookie; with no idea what qualified as "lunch" in her friend's mind, she wasn't about to risk it. If you're going to sneak something, sneak some-thing worth taking. Her father's words floated through her mind. When Gadget was little she thought he never noticed she grabbed the little stuff. That was until he gave her that advice -- without even turning around! Following his teachings, she took one big one for each hand and hurried out to the living room before Monty could catch her in the act.

   The living room -- how often had something blown up, malfunctioned, or just plain old fallen apart there? More times than she cared to count. Her dad always just cheerfully helped gather up the remnants of whatever the mess of parts had been and told her to try it again.

   Most of all, Gadget remembered the holiday trees. Every year Wilec had gone out to cut the top off a pine tree while she got out the ornaments and tinsel. And the star. It never failed that the tree ended up larger than her father, so every year he handed the star to Gadget and boosted her up to put it on. Even when she had grown so that the top of her head reached his shoulders his philosophy remained that she

was his little girl and would never be too big for him to lift up to put on the treetopper. That was their last

celebration together. The next year Gadget found a ladder to put it on, and to avoid crushing the low branches she had needed to put the ladder over so far that when she leaned out to put it on, she nearly fell into the tree. After that she used suction cups to walk on the ceiling, but it hadn't quite been the same.

   "You need to let go of the old memories sometime, Gadget. Eventually you have to start making new ones."

   Gadget spun around to face the kitchen door and couldn't help but be a little disappointed. For a moment Monterey had sounded so much like her dad that she let herself believe, only for an instant... "I can't, Monty," she spoke quietly, sounding totally alone in the world. "Memories are all I have left of him."

   Monty shifted uneasily, wanting to go to her and make things right for his little Gadget but not knowing what to say or do. She's the daughter o' one o' me best mates, an' I should look out for her now that he can't. I can't even give her the one thing she wants more than anything in the world: her dad. He cleared his throat. "Um, where do you keep the marshmallows?"

   Marshmallows and cheese together?!?! I'm glad I took the cookies. "In the cabinet under the sink."

   With a last uncertain look over his shoulder, the chef returned to the kitchen.

   Should I bring the star along? It wouldn't be the same without Dad, but it's kind of a Hackwrench tradition, and I am the only one left. Her mind made up, Gadget made her way to the storage room and found it among the other holiday stuff. Holding it close, she hurried back to her own room and pulled a box from under her bed. After removing most of its contents she came upon a long-outgrown flight scarf. Wilec had given it to her when she was ten. "I never wanted anything but to be as good as you," she whispered softly, burying her face in the precious cloth. It still smelled of memories and flights long past. Carefully wrapping the scarf around the star, she placed it into the box as one would lay an infant in a bassinet, and tenderly put  the cover on.

   A firm hand rested on her shoulder, and Gadget just about hit the ceiling. "Monterey Jack!" she cried breathlessly. The inventor had been too wrapped up in her own thoughts to hear him enter.

   "What's with you? You're jumpier 'n a kangaroo today!"

   "Sorry, Monty. I guess I'm just not used to having other people around. I've been living alone so long..."

   "Well, it'll be a change not havin' to cook for yerself all the time when we get home." He put a strong arm around her shoulders and led her out the door.

   This is my home! Gadget's thoughts protested angrily. It always will be! There are so many memories here. Home is where the heart is, and my heart will never be at H.Q. It will never be home! Never! Not in a million years!

*   *   *

   On the day before their departure, Monty was still asleep by the time noon came around. Rather than risk another guess-what-this-is meal, Gadget made herself a picnic lunch and dinner, left a note for her friend, and set off for a certain large tree she knew well, picking flowers along her way.

   Soon she reached her destination. Airplanes buzzed overhead quite frequently, but it was the eye of a hurricane: one little bit of nature in the midst of asphalt and cement.  The only reason it existed at all was because humans forgot about it. Gadget had never encountered a living soul in all the time she spent there.

   An arrow-pierced heart bearing the names Sarah Haley and Wilec adorned the tree's rough surface, with a smaller heart with her own name underneath. Above them were two years: one long before she was born, and another from when she was three years old. They were the years her mother had graced the earth, and Wilec had often looked fondly at the carvings when he thought his daughter didn’t notice. Now his own dates stood watch beside hers. The visitor smiled faintly and traced the etchings with a finger before pussyfooting to a little stone only half-shaded by the great branches and abundant leaves.

   Quietly she placed the flowers by the stone and sat facing it, feet tucked under her. "Hi, Dad, Mom, it's Gadget. I brought a picnic with me so we can talk all day, just like we used to, Dad. Anyway, I'll bet you're wondering why it's been so longsince I visited. You'll never guess why. You want to try? Okay.

Give up? Monterey Jack and Zipper came by! That's right. And they brought a couple friends with them. Their names are Chip and Dale, but I'll tell you about them later. They were looking for you because they needed a ride to Glacier Bay. I told Monty that you wanted him to have the Screaming Eagle, Dad, and he was really happy. Unfortunately, he couldn't fly it since I made a few modifications, like ejection seats. I

think I probably told you two about them. Anyway, I volunteered to get them where they needed to go. I forgot to open the skylight, but I found the switch in time. Once we got going, I hitched a ride on an airliner. Monty liked my landing; he said you would've been proud, Dad. There was only one problem: I

landed on ice and forgot to use skis instead of wheels, and we crashed through some rocks. You'd never crash it, but I'll never be as good as you are. The plane was such a wreck that I had to redesign it with bits of trash from a nearby camp. It's really kind of unique. You would’ve liked it, Mom. You too, Dad."

   As the day went by, Gadget told her parents about the specifications of her creation, her recent adven-tures, and her new-found friends. By the time the sun began to sink below the western horizon she was lying on her stomach with her feet in the air and her head propped on her hands.

   "I wish I could stay here forever, but I have to go now; I wrote a note to Monterey telling him I'd be home before dark. The sun's setting, and I don't want to worry him. I won't be back for a long time, I'm afraid. See, I'm going to move in with Chip, Dale, Monty, and Zipper. I'm going to move to the biggest oak tree in the park, and I don't even know where it is or what the inside looks like! I don't know if I'll have my own workshop! I like working with the Rangers, and it's nice to be able to help others, but move away from you? From our home?" Silent tears traced parallel tracks down her cheeks, and she buried her face in folded arms. "I don't know when I'll be able to talk to youagain! I love you, Dad! I love you, Mom! Oh, I miss yo u so much!"

  The last vestiges of sunlight withdrew their comforting fingers to leave her in the dark -- cold, disconsolate, and small under the vast, uncaring emptiness of the night sky.

  Back at the plane about fifteen minutes earlier, Monty had frowned as he looked out the window. "I bet she'll be back any minute," he calmed himself as he sat down and picked up a magazine.

*   *   *

   Flash!

   BOOM! (rumble, rumble, rumble)

   "Avalanche!" Monty yelled, wide awake, and after an instant, coherent. He looked at the clock. "Four in the morning? All ready? Crikey! I must've fallen asleep! I better see if that thunder woke up me little Gadget." Softly he tiptoed to her room, cracked the door, and peeked in to observe a bed not only empty, but obviously unused. Monterey Jack padded around the house, checking every room, but to no avail. "Bli-mey! She hasn't come home yet! Her note said she was packin' a picnic lunch, so she must still be out in this rain! I'd better go look for her." After rummaging through a few drawers he found a flashlight and went into the storm, sweeping the flashlight's beam in great arcs and calling her name.

   Rain still unhappily drizzled down, but the eastern sky began to clear enough for dawn's soft luminance to transform raindrops to shimmering liquid diamonds and paint a pastel rainbow in the stratosphere -- too high to reach. It was then that the searcher found the little inventor in a place he remembered too well, for all he had only been there once. She was fast asleep with her head cushioned on her arms, sunlight playing across her face and hair as two tears followed their many predecessors down her cheeks. A little stone nearby -- drops from heaven's lamentations rolling down its surface as if it wept, too -- caught his attention. Slightly uneven letters chiseled through tears spelled out an epitaph:

Wilec Hackwrench.

Our lives will never be the same without him

   Wilec Hackwrench. Me friend, me adventurin' partner, an' I never got ta say good-bye. A little stone, all that's left. He laid a hand on it, wordlessly greeting his friend as the shower lessened and ceased. A little stone. Cold. Final. I never thought... Wilec. Yer with yer Sarah now, mate. I miss her sometimes. Little Gadget, she’s the spittin’ image of ya, luv. If only ye could’a seen her grow up. Ye were so young, luv, an’ now... Wilec. Monterey hadn’t been able to do more than peek in his buddy’s room... it had been spanking clean, and looked exactly how it had ten years ago... which was exactly how it had been when Sarah still shared it with him. The whole family, clingin’ ta memories o’ love what keeps leavin’. He harshly rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Gadget?" Monty whispered as he knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently shaking her a little.

   "Dad?" she mumbled, her consciousness in the place between sleep and awake where reality is forbidden.

   "No, luv. It's Monterey."

   She groggily sat up, usually-blue eyes somehow almost the gray of the clouds.

   "C'mon. We hafta finish packing an' fly back to headquarters," he explained as he helped her up. Realization suddenly hit. "Wait a second, it was rainin' cats an' dogs out all night an' you're dry!" Gadget didn't look surprised as she cast one last forlorn look at her father's grave, picked up the soaking picnic hamper, and trudged home with bowed head and downcast eyes.

   He took a perfect white flower from the bouquet and spun it contemplatively between his fingers. Wilec Hackwrench... gone. He was always so careful. How? Is Gadget the only one what knows? Funny how ya don't realize what people are to ya till they're gone. 'Bout ten years since I saw you, wasn't it? Never bo-thered me, 'cause someday I could drop in. Now I can't. An' yer little girl? You were her whole world, mate. An' she was yer pride an' joy. The flower fell to the ground. It too would expire. "Don't worry. I'll take care of her," Monty promised the little patch of earth, the only thing the pale light touched.

*   *   *

   "Dale, quit looking out the window and help me!" Chip ordered irritably from the conference room's entrance. He strode over to Dale with a no-nonsense attitude, grabbed his chipmunk partner's arm, and dragged him off.

   "But Gadget'll be here any minute! We should greet her when she comes."

   "We will. Zipper, stand watch; you've already done all you can."

   "Okay," he agreed, parking himself on the windowsill.

   "Aw, Chip, we've been cleaning non-stop for five days!"

   "Exactly. We have to get this place nice and clean for her. Gadget wasn't too enthusiastic about moving in to begin with, and we don't want her first impression of her new home to be 'What a dump!' We got the rest of Ranger Headquarters clean in two days, and it's taken us the past three just to get this pigsty you call a room clean enough to put up bunk beds." He picked up a piece of cold pizza, age unknown, with

two fingers and threw it in the trash. "Yech! How can you be such a slob?" he demanded, wrinkling his nose with disgust.

   "I am not a slob!"

   "Then what do you call this heap of junk?"

   "This isn't junk!" Dale defended himself. "This stuff is valuable!"

   "Only as ancient artifacts from a lost civilization," Chip shot at him. "I bet you didn't even know you had half this stuff!"

   "I did too!"

   "Did not!"

   "Did too!"

   "Did not!"

   "Did too!"

   "Uh-huh, right! Like that pizza I just threw away? Or how about that half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich we found this morning? Or that- that- that whatever it was we found yesterday?"

   "I was saving that for a snack," he justified.

   "How many years ago did you forget to eat it? Even you didn't know what that whatever it was used to be. I don't know how I'm going to be able to put up with you now that we have to share a room."

   "So why share?"

   Chip gave an exasperated sigh and explained in the tone one uses when one has had to say something a great many times, "Gadget has to have her own room because she's the only girl. Zipper has to have his own room because he's so small. And Monterey Jack -"

   "I know, I know," Dale interrupted irritably. "You don't have to go through the whole thing again."

   "But you just -- oh, never mind. Just hurry up and get this place half-way decently clean. The others'll be here any second."

   They threw out anything they wouldn't need (or couldn't identify) and took the garbage out. Then Chip and Dale got to work putting everything in its place.

   "They're here!" Zipper warned, flying into the disaster area at top speed.

   Those two simple words lit a fuse under the chipmunks. They made a record time of heaving everything in drawers and under Chip's bed (or anywhere else they could think of to hide it) and racing for the conference room. They took a moment to dust themselves off and gain their composure before bolting out the door.

   "Welcome home, guys," Chip greeted them, helping Gadget out of the plane.

   "Thanks," she replied tiredly. No! I may live here for the good of the team, but I will not call this home!

   Zipper rushed to Monty, ecstatic to see his old friend.

   "Good ta see you too, Zipper," he laughed.

   "Didja have a nice trip?" asked Dale.

   "Hmm? Oh, yeah," Gadget yawned.

   "Well, we'll give you the tour tomorrow," Chip offered, leading her inside. "I'll just show you where your room is so you can get settled in."

   "Okay."

   Chip brought her up to her room, Monty and Dale following with a couple boxes of her stuff, which they set on the floor next to her bed.

   "'Night, Gadget," the others bid her.

   "Good-night, guys." She promptly started digging through one of her boxes. Monty watched helplessly as she pulled out the picture of her father, then he quietly closed the door after himself.

   Saltwater splashed on the picture's glass. "Oh, Papa," she sighed. "This room is so empty, just like my room back home. I don't think it will ever look like mine, and this place will always be just headquarters, never home." She hugged the picture to her. A small crystal at the top of one box caught her eyes, and she picked it up with one hand, letting it twirl and dance at the end of its silver chain. "Remember how much storms scared me when I was little? But I always looked forward to them because we went rainbow catch-ing afterwards; it was like catching happiness in my hands. Mom gave me her crystal the last time I saw her so I could catch rainbows every day, rain or shine, and think of her while she was away. She never told me how to catch rainbows when it's night out, and dreary." She stared out the window. The stars -- one thing she could count on to stay stable -- had deserted her. Nothing but an abysmal black void beyond the panes, and a disheartened girl reflected in them.

   "I have to try to like it here, though. The rest of the Rangers are counting on me to help make this work." Bravely she wiped away her tears, pulled the curtains so she wouldn't have to see out, ran her fingers over the frame, and set the picture on her dresser before changing into her nightgown and climbing into bed.

*   *   *

   "'Morning, luv," Monty greeted her cheerily as she wandered into the kitchen. "Sleep well?"

   "Mmm-hmm." After I was done waking up with no idea where I was and crying myself back to sleep when I remembered, she added silently.

   "Hows about some breakfast?" he suggested as she sat down on one of the alphabet blocks at the table.

   "Sounds good to me!" Dale voiced, bounding into the kitchen and seating himself next to her.

   "And after that we can give you the tour," Chip said, taking the seat on her other side.

   "So, how do ya like yer new room?" questioned Dale.

   "It's very empty. Thanks, Monty," Gadget answered as the chef set plates before everyone.

   "Well, that'll all change once you get yer stuff moved in," Monty encouraged.

   "I guess so." She made an attempt at cheerfulness that failed miserably. Her hand slipped into the pocket of her pants and clutched the reassuring solidness of the rainbow crystal. She had removed from her window upon awakening. It wouldn't create rainbows on a cloudy day, and having it in her pocket helped keep home -- so far away -- a little closer.

   "You can finish unpacking after we show you your -" Dale began.

   Chip raced to clap a hand over his partner's mouth. "Your new home," he finished quickly, shooting  Dale a dirty look.

   "Not hungry, luv?" Monty frowned in concern, noting how she scarcely even tried the pancakes before pushing them away.

   She shook her head, eyes downcast. "Sorry, Monty."

   The others quickly finished, with Chip's closing comment of "On with the tour!"

   Gadget spent the next half-hour on the heels of her companions as they showed her around. With every room she saw, her spirits sank lower and lower. How could she possibly live in this place? None of the rooms boasted more than just the bare essentials for indicating what they were meant to be. A T.V. for the main room, a jumprope and set of barbells for the gym, a sink and table for the kitchen, and so on. The

only saving grace was that they were clean.

   Seeing the hopeless look on Gadget's face, Monterey quickly piped up, "'Course it'll need a bit o' fixin' up before it's home. We was hopin' you could help us out a bit on that one."

   "Really?" She perked up a bit. Maybe this place won't be so bad after all. I’ll do you proud, Mom.

   "Sure!" Chip affirmed. "Who else could invent well enough to get this place looking like Rescue Ranger Headquarters? But there's one room left we haven't shown you yet." He beckoned her to follow.

   "We saved the best for last," Dale informed her excitedly as Chip opened the last door with a flourish.

   "It's your workshop," Zipper explained.

   As if Gadget needed to be told. The second she laid eyes on the room, she knew it was hers. A big work-table with her toolbox on it sat in the middle while shelves containing her various thingamabobs, watcha-macallits, and dohickeys (not to mention more than just a few spare parts) lined the walls. Suddenly it dawned on her that this room hadn't just organized itself. The others must have worked all through the

previous night just to give her this present -- to make her feel welcome in her new home. A smile spread across her face as her blue eyes lit up. "It's wonderful, guys! Thank you!" she breathed, giving them each a hug.

   "Now that's my Gadget," Monty grinned.

   "It's so much better than the one I had at my old home," she beamed.

   Chip smiled back. 'My old home.' That means she thinks of this place as hers now, too. "I'm glad you like it." He put an arm around her shoulders and led her out the door. "Now, what say we go and start those improvements?"

    "I want to look around here a while and get some ideas first, okay?"

    "All right, luv. We'll leave ya to it."

    She smiled and nodded. When at last the door closed behind her friends, she whipped the crystal from her pocket and rushed to hold it before the window. Brilliant rays of sunshine pierced the clouds and flashed through her treasure, casting vividseven-colored lights dancing across her walls. Gadget held out her hand, and a patch of happiness landed on her palm. She hung the crystal on a hook above her  window, cupped the joy in both hands, and smiled... to catch a rainbow.