Darkness. I couldn't bring myself to move.
"You alive?" That was Jesse.
"No, I'm a ghost."
"Ghosts have souls; you do not."
"I will haunt you."
Silence.
"What's going on?"
"Just–everything is so uncertain, and–"
"House rule eight: no hyperbole. Not everything."
"Name one thing that isn't falling to shreds."
"Those curtains seem solid. And… we're solid. You've got me, right?"
"That was cheesy," I deadpanned.
"Fine, I won't comfort you."
"Jerk."
"Idiot."
I couldn't help smiling.
"Now help me get the cake off of the ceiling."
"Wha–"
“This is so stupid,” she groaned, pushing her chair back and stretching her arms. It was getting late, and the workers at the coffee shop had already made it abundantly clear that they should leave. He had been gently suggesting the same thing, but she had to submit this paper on “The Lady or the Tiger?” by tomorrow, and three and a half hours and four lattes had only added about a paragraph to her computer screen. “How is it even a question? Imagine it’s us; I tell you to go right, there’s going to be a lady behind that door, no matter how pretty she is. It doesn’t matter what I want, if it saves your life, and if you get some shot at happiness, isn’t it worth it? Watching you with someone else would hurt, but at least you’d be alive.” Her rant was met with silence, which stretched so long that she had to ask, “What? Would you do something differently?”
“I’d go left,” he said, his voice even and sure, almost daring her to question him. “I’d go left because I know you’d try to save me, but I’d rather die than dedicate my life to someone who isn’t you.” He didn’t know what had prompted the declaration. Maybe he was going insane from sitting still in the coffee shop for so long. Still, he knew every word he said was true. He’d stay here forever with her if he had to. He wanted to spend his life with her. His hand went to his pocket, where the ring was hidden. ‘Soon,’ he told himself, ‘I’ll ask her soon.’
Most stories start when the main character’s life falls apart. Not this one. My life is great. It’s me who’s falling apart. Most main characters have a special spark. I’m a whole dumpster fire. This is the story of a girl who doesn't know anything about anything trying to do everything.
I feel pathetic, sitting on the garage floor and sobbing uncontrollably. I don’t know what’s happening. My dramatic mind keeps wondering if this is an anxiety attack or a mental breakdown. My rational side insists that it isn’t. But I’m scared. Like, really scared. My head is pounding, but it’s more pressure than an actual headache. The world is shaking.
My breath sounds like an ocean in my ears. There are about sixteen coded monologues crossing paths in my head. I can’t distinguish one from another, but they all have the same general tone. Why can't I handle simple things? Why am I freaking out like this over nothing? Do I always have to be so
miserable? I'm ruining my childhood. I'm letting my family down. “I’m worthless,” I whisper. The words feel too dense for the air, falling to the cement floor like bricks. Maybe because I said it out loud, or the intense emotion just ran its course, but either way I begin to calm down, my tattered breath returning to normal. I look up and unclench my fists, then take a deep breath and stand up on shaky legs. I survey myself in the dirty mirror that leans against a stack of totes full of clothes and books. I got the mirror off of the side of the road a few months ago because I thought I could make something cool out of the glass. My reflection looks almost as worn as the once-elegant trim. There are faint bags under my eyes, and my skin is sticky and gross, besides the fact that I’m beet red. My dirty blonde hair is a mess, and my arms look thin under my big t-shirt. I shrug. I look like the protagonist of a very dramatic movie. Pre glow up, of course. I giggle at that. Yeah, I’m a hot mess, but I’m not in a coming of age movie yet. Plus, I don’t have the right body type to be the protagonist of anything. Most days I feel too small for my body. Sighing, I head inside to refill my water bottle.
I pause outside for a moment, letting the cool air calm my nerves, maybe freeze out the rest of my dramatic thoughts. I’m careful not to let the house's front door squeak, but it doesn’t matter, anyway. The only light I can see is the dim glow from the lamp in the kitchen. It's enough to illuminate my younger sister, Alex, who is sitting at the table wearing a red t-shirt. “Hey, Brooks,” she says nonchalantly.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Am I not allowed to eat cheese balls at 10:30pm?” Her green eyes twinkle, and her high ponytail looks surprisingly bouncy for this time of night.
I can’t help laughing. “It isn’t wise,” I point out.
“Eh, I’ll live. What were you doing in the garage?”
“You know I like to craft in the garage.” That isn’t a lie. All of my supplies are out there since it has more space and less carpet than our shared bedroom. I never said I was crafting now.
“Weirdo,” she says as I make my way back to the door, water bottle filled.
I stick my tongue out as I escape, still smiling for a moment. Then I let out a sigh. The whole exchange was so normal. She doesn’t know anything is wrong. To be fair, I have way better control when I’m with people. At least, over things like this. Truthfully, I might flip out about little things, like, multiple times a week. I really can’t hold it together. But I can hide some things. I don't tell anyone that I feel like life is running away. That I think everything I do and say is wrong and my existence itself is a waste of time and energy. No, I just complain loudly for entire afternoons about schoolwork, or freak out when I can't find the shirt I want to wear, or cry for two hours when my sister says something even slightly offensive. I might as well scream from the rooftops that I’m stressed. If I were nicer, I wouldn’t. I feel horrible when my mood affects the rest of my family, but I have no self control. I have to let my feelings out. If only I could tell them the reason just as easily. It's not like I'm really trying to hide anything, because I can't, I just feel like they don’t get it. I’m screaming, but nobody really hears what it is that I’m saying.
Still, maybe Alex doesn’t know that anything is wrong because when I spend time with her nothing is wrong. Much as it hurts that nobody knows what’s going on, sometimes I need a reality check. She doesn’t give me the time to be worried or confused because with her I'm too busy giggling over something stupid or we’re mercilessly skipping each other’s turns in Uno. She’s my bright side, my chill pill, my personified therapy. My sister is my best friend.
It's just that if I'm being completely honest, I don’t know if she’d even care that I’m upset. That's what scares me most.
I know I’m being stupid. Why should she care? There’s nothing to care about. I’m inventing problems. It’s an illusion for me alone. She has her own life, and probably her own problems. She is the one with the learning disorder, after all. I’ve seen her crying to Mom about her struggles, though she’s usually strong. Gosh, I’m so selfish. I should be worrying about her instead of being upset that she isn’t worrying about me when there’s nothing to worry about. You see what I mean by dumpster fire now, right?
Putting my complicated thoughts and instinct to keep breathing way too fast aside, I reenter the garage and force myself to focus back on my tablet, which is open to a YouTube dance tutorial. Dancing is probably one of the reasons I'm even in this state of mind right now, but it's also something I love to do. I'm dumb like that. I dance all the time for fun, but it's not like I'm any good at it. Now's as good a time as any to change that, though. And if I give my stupid fat body some excercise in the process, that won't hurt, either. Dancing is only one of my many projects (sometimes I feel unaccomplished and empty if I don't have enough short term goals to work on), and lately it's been hard to keep up with all of my endeavors plus school. That's not even to mention family or friends. My entire life feels off kilter, but I really do love to dance, even if the garage is a small practice space. So I turn up the music and focus.
I'm currently trying to learn "Can't We Just Leave The Monster Alive?" by TXT. I just need to hear, “It’ll be alright, alright, alright,” because right now my whole body is telling me that it will most certainly not be alright. But I don't have to think as I follow the screen propped up against the mirror and the beats playing in my ears. All I have to do is move my body in a certain way, a bounce here and a twist there, and suddenly I'm dancing, and then it's just me and the music and the sweat on my back. And for a while I truly feel alive.
That's until I try to perfect the pre-chorus. I replay Yeonjun’s key footwork around fifteen times, but I just can’t keep the steps in my head. They’re probably bouncing off of the same suffocating wall that keeps reflecting all of my thoughts back onto each other in one big jumble. After another ten minutes or so, I’ve gotten exactly nowhere. Glaring at my reflection in the mirror, I decide that I will keep going until I get it. Twenty minutes later, I’m kicking the wall in defeat.
I decide to work on another end of the world issue instead: crafting. Funny story on that:
"Hey, Brooks, just coming to check on you," Dad said yesterday. He ducked to avoid hitting his head on the hanging light as he entered the garage. A breeze followed him through the door, cooling my face as I hurriedly turned off the phone and went to stand by my craft desk. I pretended I was busy with the glue gun, but it really wasn't even plugged in. "How're the crafts coming?"
"Good," I said casually, even as my mind flickered to the Etsy order I had yet to start.
"You're doing that show with Aunt Dede on Saturday, right?"
Shoot. Shootshootshoot.
"Oh, I almost forgot! Yup!" Or did forget and completely screwed myself. Whatever.
"You've been working hard out here lately. You should be pretty well prepared."
"Uh-huh! Definitely!" Nope. I was not prepared. Not at all. In fact, I was doomed.
I grabbed the phone to text Aunt Dede as soon as Dad left. Scooching myself up to sit on the hood of our old lawnmower, I typed, "R we still doing the craft fair Saturday?"
Her response came through seconds later: "Of course! I'll pick u up at 8."
"K, how much are you bringing?"
"I was going to do 20 hats and 10 paintings. Why?"
"Just trying to figure out how much I should bring."
'And make,' I thought as I sent the message.
"I'd say around 20 key chains and 20 headbands. Are u doing shirts?"
I bit my lip, drumming my fingers on the back of the phone. I had five key chains made, and the materials for at least fifteen more. I also had the decorations for the headbands, but not enough plastic bases. T-shirts are fun to decorate, but I wasn't sure I had time. Six days to make fifteen key chains and twenty headbands was bad enough. I'd also need to buy more plain shirts. It probably wouldn't be worth it. Screw that. I could do it. It should've been started already, anyway. "Yeah, will 10 shirts be ok?" I typed.
"Sounds perfect."
I smiled. Perfect. I could do this.
So now I set to work. One key chain, four headbands, and a few paint stains on my jeans later, I'm so tired I can hardly stand up without wanting to die on the spot. Besides that, the garage is freezing. I reluctantly trudge back to my bedroom, where I find Alex fast asleep. The wise decision would be to go to bed myself, but do I? Nope. Instead I find myself eating chocolate ice cream out of the carten while watching YouTube at one in the morning. Sighing, I finally turn the device off. I didn't care about anything when it was on, but now I have to–ugh–think. Why am I so stupid? One in the morning on YouTube, yet I can't bear to keep working on things that need done. If I put so much pressure on myself that it causes this weird anxiety thing (which it shouldn't), I could at least hold myself to my standard. I'm being all dramatic, yet I'm still so light on myself. Some days–or nights–the world feels impossible.
I don't have much trouble falling asleep, my body tired and my mind quickly falling back into the digital world. Of course. I'm pathetic. I do have lots of trouble waking up in the morning, but I eventually drag myself out of bed. It's an hour later than I want it to be, which fills my chest with a tight frustration, but I push past it and open my computer to begin classes.
I realize it's open to a coding screen. That's the other thing I've been working on.
I was headed to the garage with my phone last week when I glanced down and quickly changed my plans. I saw a text from my friend, Zara. "You busy?" She asked.
I had a feeling I knew where this was going, so I replied with a, "Nope!" Sure enough, I was soon riding my bike down the road, my heart thumping a little too hard. The sky was bright, yellow leaves crossing my path as I pedaled harder. Cold air snapped at my cheeks, and I breathed it in happily.
My heart beat even faster when I came to the end of the road. As always, I hesitated at the light, even when there were no cars coming. I wondered if I should turn back, but I didn't. Eventually I rolled into the busier road and made my way down, towards the park. I flinched every time I heard the whirr of tires behind me, and I could barely see past the tangle of blonde hair flying into my eyes, but the speed made me feel alive.
Zara was already on the swings when I swerved through the gate, skidding on the gravel. "Yo!" I called with a smile, half waving as I hopped off of the seat and put my kickstand down. "Nice hair," I added, observing the purple and blue mixed into her rich brown locks that peaked out from underneath her beanie.
"Thanks, I died it myself," she said airily, brushing it off of her shoulder.
"No you didn't," I told her.
"Fine. They're clips."
"That explains the beanie."
"What? It's cold out."
"Uh-huh." I sat down on the swing beside hers. "So-ome things never cha-ange!" I sing-songed. I knew the clips were horribly scattered on top of her hair, just like she had worn them when we were nine. That had been when I went to public school. Since I started cyber schooling this year, I haven't seen as much of Zara, so it was a relief to know she was still the same goofball.
"Ugh, not Frozen!" Zara protested.
"Come on, you used to have a Frozen backpack," I reminded her.
"Used to. Meanwhile you still have a Hello Kitty T-shirt."
"Hello Kitty is cool, and I bet that backpack is still in your closet."
"I hate you," she informed me. We laughed, our voices echoing across the deserted playground. I kicked hard at the ground as Zara started playing music off of her phone. Soon I was going much higher than she was, practically flying away from the world. For a moment I envisioned the chain breaking. I would just fly forever. I shared this idea with Zara, and she laughed at me. "That would hurt," she commented.
I giggled. "Whatever."
Truthfully, I felt like I was flying already. The park is one of the few places I'm allowed to go by myself, let alone actually have the means to get to. Going there with Zara feels like freedom. With how I've been feeling lately–stressed beyond imagination even though I don't actually have anything interesting going on in my life, trapped in my own mind, boxed in by my stupid temper–freedom is something I'm learning to cherish.
"Oh! I saw this thing online, you have to do it!" Zara exclaimed after a few moments of swinging along to the music without talking.
"Do what? I'm not breaking any laws, ok." I giggled.
"Shut up, I'm trying to explain!"
"Sorry." I held my hands up in surrender, then nearly fell off of the swing. Zara snorted as I hurriedly regripped the chains. "Go on," I said casually.
"It's a coding competition for high schoolers. The winner gets free classes and a trip to LA!"
"Seriously? That's so cool!" I said, designs already coming together in my head.
"You have to do it," Zara said again.
I smiled. Why not? "Duh!" I agreed.
"I'll send you the link so you can look at it."
"You're the best."
We parted twenty minutes later, each heading in our respective direction for the long ride home. I felt light as a feather, full of sunshine and joy.
So that's another thing I've got going on. The days are taking on a regular schedule. Wake up, get mad about waking up late, school, meltdown (some days worse than others), guilt, coding (everyone assumes I'm doing homework on the computer; they think I work harder than I do), go outside if it isn't dark or raining (I'm beginning to hate the dark), dance (usually only for twenty minutes), crafts, watch YouTube, bed. Time is ticking away. Rain pounds on the garage's metal roof more often than not, making me feel even more anxious.
I never get everything that I want done. I always feel like I'm drowning, but in reality I'm fine. My headbands and key chains are getting sloppier. Every time I think I might be getting good at dancing, I look in the mirror and realize I'm still as awkward as ever. As for coding, progress is slow. It's been a hobby of mine ever since I took an online class for fun two years ago, but I've never tried anything as big as this contest.
I guess it makes sense that I'm stressed. It's clear that what I'm doing is too much, but it shouldn't be. I love these things. I want to be able to handle them. I will be able to handle them. Still, I hate this feeling. I know I'm wasting my time being miserable and that scares me, because I only have so much time. One day I'll wake up and be in the 'twenty years later' epilogue, a grown woman with actual responsibilities. I want to be a kid while I can, but I don't know how to escape myself. I try to be carefree, but sometimes it feels forced and leaves me even more stressed. It's like there's a gaping chasm inside of me, blocking the way to what I really want, whatever that is at this point. One wrong step and I'll go plummeting down into the void.
In the end, it's a tiny thing that sends me crashing down. I'm trying to perfect the chorus to "Can't We Just Leave the Monster Alive?", but I keep getting stuck on a certain part. I repeat it over and over. And over and over and over. And– I have no control over my feet. I hear plastic and metal crashing together as I stumble into my desk, sending craft supplies flying everywhere. I don't even hit that hard, it barely even hurts, but it's enough to make the tension that's been building for weeks light up as rage in my chest.
I choke out a scream, wildly tearing things off of the desk and hurtling them across the room. Buttons, plastic headbands, tape, copper wire, it's all bouncing off of the piles of junk. My eyes are burning. My throat is burning. Everything is burning. I wish I could throw harder. I wish I were stronger. I yank the glue gun's cord out of the wall and throw that, too. A sickening crack fills the air and I look up just in time to see cracks like spider webs spread over the surface of the mirror. I'm frozen for a moment, staring at my fragmented reflection.
"Are you ok, sweetie?" It's Mom. She cracks the door open and peeks through, concern clouding her brow when she notices the craft supplies littering the already cluttered room.
I humm out a reply, but it doesn't sound all that convincing. Especially since I'm crying the next second. And trust me, I would prefer to not be crying right now, but the tears are there anyway, tickling the inside of my head and spilling out of my eyes. No matter how hard I might try, I can't hold them back. And so I stand there ugly crying in front of the broken mirror. I never could hide my emotions.
Mom doesn't say anything else as she enters the garage, sidestepping clutter to come and wrap me up in her sturdy arms. I remain stiff for a moment, my movements delayed by the thoughts running through my head. It wasn't even twenty minutes ago that Mom was yelling at me about my horrible attitude towards Alex. Guilt washes over me as I lean into her embrace. She's so soft and warm. Why do I have to make things so hard for her?
She holds me like that until my tears subside. My back is a little stiff by the time she pulls away, and then it's only to take hold of my shoulders and look me in the eye. I'm having trouble looking back at her brown eyes, so full of compassion and well-concealed weariness.
"I'm sorry I yelled earlier," she says gently.
"Sorry for being crappy," I reply, sniffling.
"I get that you're stressed. Life can be…a lot. I shouldn't have lost my temper."
"It wasn't your fault." Because it wasn't. It was my fault. I was the one making everything difficult. "Mom, what's wrong with me?"
"I think you're overwhelmed with a lot of things right now. And I think you might not be the best at handling those emotions."
I let out a wet snort at that. "No duh."
I expect her to lecture me, point out all of my mistakes, tell me how to make it better but I still won’t be able to change anything. She doesn't. She doesn't say anything for a while, just takes my hand and gently rubs the back of it. "It won't always be like this. You're so much more than you think you are. You're going to be ok."
On the one hand, they sound like generic, empty words. She can't possibly know that anything will get better, and I like to think I have a fairly realistic perception of myself. Still, I want to believe her. Because she sounds so sure, so sincere. And she's looking at me with love, not judgment or even much pity. "I love you, Brooks. You're so loved. And that has nothing to do with your performance." And that was it, the words that break my resolve, crumble my walls. Finally the pieces clicked into place.
Fresh tears burn my eyes, and I have no choice but to bury my face in Mom's shoulder, letting the soft fabric of her blouse cushion me. She giggles, patting my head and then hugging me some more.
We pull apart at the sound of Alex screaming from inside the house. "MOM! HOW LONG DO I COOK THE FRICKIN' HAM FOR?"
"Ham?" I ask, immediately perking up from how I was moments ago.
"Your sister's helping, so don't get your hopes up," Mom laughs, getting up to go assist her.
I laugh too, and then feel Mom's eyes settle on me, a fond smile on her face. "You good now?"
I shrug. "Better. Thanks, Momma."
I stare at the door for a few moments after Mom leaves, then turn around to assess the damage… and let out a verbal groan. The mere sight of the garage is overwhelming. It isn't going to fix itself, though. I gingerly pick up a piece of glass from the floor, careful not to cut my finger on the sharp edge. I can see my left eye staring back at me, bloodshot and shiny from crying. I hold the piece back a little and smile without opening my mouth, watching the dimples appear on either cheek. I don't look amazing, but I look alive. And that's the thing, isn't it? I'm still alive. And there's a lot more to my life than what's going on in my mind.
I think back over the last month, over the good points instead of bad. Laughing with Alex. Swinging with Zara. Teasing Dad. Hugging Mom. Sunshine in between the clouds. Wind on my cheeks and stars in my eyes. People I love by my side. I'm loved. I'm loved by so many people. They might not understand every thought I have, and I might not be able to articulate everything, but they do care. Between all of the business, or maybe because of it, they make my life beautiful.
It took me a while to realize it, but rain makes things grow. The darker a night is, the brighter the stars are. I might be a little bit of a disaster, but I'm not alone. I don't know anything about anything, but maybe learning is what makes life exciting.
My problems don't all disappear in a flash. This isn't a fairytale. There are still bad days, lots of bad days. Sometimes I kick myself back to square one, maybe even lower than that, but every time I make it back up. The light is definitely shining through. I might not be perfect, but I think I'm going to be alright.
I watched the crystals of frost form around my fingers on the cold window. My cousins oohed and aahed at the elaborate ice sculptures we were passing. “Maria! Look at that one!” Betty screamed in my ear, leaning out of her seat and across my lap to press her face against the window. Her chocolate curls were flying everywhere. I jerked my hand away. She was looking with sparkly blue eyes at a small bear lit by colored lights somehow frozen into the glass figure. It was cute, but really didn’t stand out in the maze of animals. I wondered what had caught her attention about this one. Sometimes I felt like all I did was wonder. I didn’t ask. I never asked. I just giggled as she pouted at the cloud from her breath blocking her view.
I turned back to the open sketchbook in my lap once Betty returned to her seat. I made a rough sketch of the bear by the unsteady light, including details that I wanted to remember. I needed my full concentration to actually draw anything good, but I liked to do crude little doodles like this and fix them in my room later. My sketchbook was full of that kind of thing. I sometimes thought of it as the letter of my heart. I doodled everything I wondered about.
Charlie, who sat on Betty’s other side, was talking on and on about the anatomy of a polar bear, brushing back his messy brown hair. He was tall and lean with frosty blue eyes. Despite the fact that he was a total nerd, all of the girls at school insisted that he was hot. I didn’t see it.
I glanced back to see that Georgia, Charlie’s twin, was patiently translating what her brother said into non-sciency terms for little Fred, who wanted to be a scientist. He was staring at her with round blue eyes, hanging on every word with his mouth partly open. Georgia gestured with her delicate hands, silver bracelets sliding around as she talked. She was an angel, and there was something odd about that. I’d known her my whole life, but I still didn’t know her. I wondered what was beneath the surface.
“Hey!” I shouted as Nicolas slammed into the back of my seat and jostled my sketchbook. “Watch it!”
He didn’t respond, instead trying to get Fred into a headlock. In return, Fred punched him. I groaned and rolled my eyes as the boys continued to wrestle in the back seat. Grandma and Grandpa kept up a jolly conversation in the front.
So now you’ve met the cousin clan. It was always like this when we all came to stay with our grandparents in New York for Christmas: chaos. Betty was my sister; she and I lived with our parents in Florida the rest of the year. The twins were also from Florida. Fred lived in Kentucky and Nicolas in Ohio. We all came to our grandparents' house every year for a month in winter. Hence the chaos.
"Stop it! I want to hear about the polar bears!" Fred yelped.
"Nerd!" Nicolas taunted.
I turned my attention back to the window, tuning the boys out as we passed an elaborate nativity scene. I focused on Mary's glass face. It was carved into a delicate smile, her eyes closed. I wondered how it would really feel to be in the scene.
"You know, kids," Grandma said, right on cue, "Mary must have been the bravest woman ever to live. Imagine being the Savior's mother!" Grandma said the same thing every year when we passed the new nativity. It always made me think. How had Mary felt?
Two days later I was sitting in the corner of a church sanctuary. Kids were running laps and bouncing balls in the room that unfolded before me. Their loud voices echoed under the high ceiling. Adults were chatting and laughing merrily. I could see soda spilled on the floor near the pizza table; cookie crumbs litteredhe gray carpet. My sketchbook was open in my lap. I scribbled a few lines down as I noticed two kids chasing each other with a spoon. The kids brushed through the front of the church and I watched as May fell from the nativity in front of the pulpit. I hesitated, then got up to fix the display. The ceramic figure was cold in my hand. I turned her over, contemplating.
"You're Anne's granddaughter, right?" a voice asked from behind me. There stood a woman about my mom's age with dimpled cheeks.
My face turned red as I nodded. "Someone knocked this over," I explained.
"Gotcha," she smiled. "Anything you found particularly special about it?"
"What?" my brain always seems to work a little slowly in conversations with unfamiliar people.
"You looked thoughtful; I was wondering why," she shrugged.
"Just making sure it isn't broken," I said quickly, my face still hot.
At that moment a little boy started screaming about someone taking his juice box.
"Hang on," the woman told me, rushing away to help the boy, who I assumed was her son.
Once she left, I had time to think. Nobody had ever asked me what I was thinking about. Ever. My mind was a veil, my thoughts and questions hidden from the outside world. Nobody ever tried to remove the veil. Not me. Not anyone else. Someone noticing and outright asking what I was thinking about was new territory. Maybe it was a special opportunity.
"Anyway," I said the moment the woman returned, " I was just wondering how Mary must've felt." I was proud of myself for getting the sentence out before I lost courage.
The woman chuckled, "She must've leaned on God's grace a lot."
Now I was picturing some god dancing ballet. "Grace?" I ventured.
"Giving us what we don't deserve. God probably gave Mary peace despite the crazy situation."
"Isn't that called mercy?"
"Mercy is not giving us what we do deserve. How much of the story do you know?"
I shrugged, "Isn't it a classic story?"
"Do you know why baby Jesus is our Savior?"
"Wasn't it because he… actually, no, I don't know," I realized, blushing.
"He was born through a sinful woman into a sinful world. Everyone deserved to die. The world is still like that today. When He grew up, Jesus took the punishment for our sons by dying on a cross. You might've heard about that around Easter before. If you trust in Jesus, you can have mercy and he'll give you grace when you need it."
I stared at the woman, skeptical. "Can the world really be that bad?"
"Think of all the world's problems: war, terrorism, murder. It can absolutely be that bad. Think about your life. Have you ever done something wrong?"–I nodded—"Then you've sinned."
"Is it always a big deal, though?" I was feeling uncomfortable.
"Not compared to some things, but it is compared to the spotless world that God intended," the woman said.
I shrugged, "I guess."
"Give it some thought," she advised. Just then the kid started telling again and the woman disappeared in the chaotic room. I set Mary down and wandered back to my corner.
The world doesn't change in a day. Mine didn't. I nearly forgot about the encounter, but reminders kept popping up. I began to wonder at the lyrics of Joy to the World and other classic songs. I stumbled across a devotional for 25¢ while searching for gifts at the thrift store. I found a gospel tract in the mall bathroom.
One night, a few days before Christmas, I couldn't sleep. I reread the tract, flipped through the devotional, and played gospel songs in my earbuds on repeat. I was only getting more curious, so eventually I tiptoed past Betty and Georgia, down the hall, and into the living room. The TV sat on top of a cabinet full of movies and old tapes. Buried behind the Harry Potter series was something else, though: an old, dusty Bible that had belonged to my great-grandmother. I cracked open the ancient spine and flipped to a random book. John seemed good. I sat against the wall, partially concealed by the big tree with the popcorn and mismatched ornaments. I read by the pinkish glow of the lights. And I read. And I read some more. I made the choice that night.
Fast forward a year. We're here looking at the ice sculptures again. Fred is on his own trying to understand Charlie's words as Georgia is oddly silent. I wonder what's going on in her head.
"You're quiet," I say, twisting in my seat.
She shrugs.
"Want to get out of this chaotic car? It's fine if not."
"Sure, that sounds good."
I yell up to Grandpa, and he lets us out, agreeing to pick us up at the nativity in a while.
"What are you thinkin about?" I venture as we make our way down a lane of frozen candy canes.
"Nothing really, just… I don't know. I feel sort of invisible," she giggled.
"I get that. I used to feel like all I ever did was wonder about people, but I couldn't interact with them."
Georgia snorts.
"Not just real people, either. I always wondered how Mary felt. I mean, she was real, but like… not contemporary."
"I bet she was scared. At least if she was halfway human. All of that pressure to be some saint… yikes."
"Maybe. I still wonder about a lot of things, but I think I know how Mary felt. I think she felt full, knowing that God saw her and saved her and that she had a purpose, you know? I think she felt heard."
By now we're back at the nativity.
"You lost me," Georgia laughs.
I glance thoughtfully at Mary's statue. "How much of the story do you know?" I ask.
Have you ever considered that things are more than they seem? That there’s a whole world hidden beneath this one? That anything is possible? That we should cherish our resources, just in case? Kayla hasn’t.
Kayla doesn’t even know the basics of this world.
For most people, their first memory is a fuzzy little blurb from when they were a small child. Not for Kayla. She has to be around fifteen years old (nobody knows for sure), but her first memory is of a traumatic experience just a few weeks ago.
She found herself floating on her back in the middle of some cool, quiet place. She must have been asleep moments before. The sun beat down on her cheeks, and she felt wonderfully content with her blonde ringlets floating around her and her graceful arms flung wide. Then she rolled over. Cold shock hit her full in the face like a thousand tiny needles as fire exploded under the skin between her eyes. She jumped up and her heart dropped when she realized she was falling. She opened her eyes wildly, but saw nothing but tangible darkness. It was trapping her. The fire spread to her lungs, burning
fiercer until she thought her body would explode. She opened her mouth to cough or scream, but was met with the thick taste of rot. She writhed, kicking her arms and legs with the little strength she had left as the invisible enemy pursued her. It was no use, no matter which she turned, it was all the same. All black. All painful. Her mind was racing like a guinea pig on its wheel, so fast that she couldn’t catch any of the thoughts. Tears stung her eyes. Everything hurt. The world was spinning. That was when she saw a murky, green-brown light. She wasn't thinking at all, all she knew or cared about was reaching that light. Her own body was a blur as she thrashed with all her might. At last she bobbed up into blinding sunlight, coughing fiercely and gasping for air. She fell under again almost immediately, but kicked her way up once again. The water almost seemed angry, though. She was only able to hack out one strained shriek for help before it forced her under again. This time she stopped fighting. The world was already dark. Now it was going numb, too.
"Are you sure that's all you remember? Sarah asks as Kayla finishes retelling the story.
"Uh huh,” Kayla replies in a hollow tone. "After that I woke up on the beach and you were there, and we started talking. You mentioned a friend named Kayla and I thought that was familiar. You know what happened since then." She says it all without any emotion, fiddling with the pink petals of a nearby flower as she talks. They are hidden in Sarah's garden, which is between Mrs. Wilson's house and the shed that serves as Sarah and Kayla's bedroom. The shed is tucked back into the dry weeds where nobody notices it. Because nobody ever goes back there, the garden is a bit secret. The reason it has to be secret is because clean water is scarce in the town. It needs to be brought in from other places, but it's getting scarce there, too. Not only does Sarah need to share her rations to make the flowers grow, she needs to protect the flowers from the toxic rain. Because of these inconvenient factors, gardening is illegal. Sarah can't give up her garden, though. It's the only place where she feels like she can breathe, both literally and mentally. Now sunlight is slanting through the leaves and landing on the rusty bench where Sarah and Kayla sit. Sunflowers are growing up to their left, and the ground ahead is carpeted in purple. Two white butterflies are playing in the air, and a bird chirps not far away.
"I know what happened from there up until you saw those butterflies and said they reminded you of something. What was it?"
“I don't know.”
"Well, think! Don't you want to remember?" Sarah presses gently. Kayla shruggs.
"Hey, I get that knowing can be hard. I know how my parents died, and now I'm afraid of fire, but I'd still rather have that than just cluelessness."
Kayla is silent.
"Do you want to live in the dark?"
"I really don't care."
"Do you care about anything?"
“No.”
“I should've known, I guess. Ever since I met you, you haven't smiled once. You're beautiful, but you’d be so much prettier if you smiled.” Sarah pauses thoughtfully.
Kayla knows what she wants to ask, but she is hesitant. "Do you think I have a personality?"
Sarah doesn't know what to say. She doesn't want to be rude, but Kayla needs her to answer honestly. "I think you could have one,” is all she can offer.
"I knew I didn't,” Kayla states almost matter-of-factly.
"I'm sorry.”
“But you think I could?" There is almost a hint of emotion in her tone. The tiniest glint of hope. "Of course, who's stopping you?"
"I don't know. Somebody."
"What?"
"I think... I think I used to have a personality. I used to care. I can just barely геmember what it felt like. I want it back, but I just... can't. Something won't let me."
"Kayla! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Sarah asks, excited.
Kayla shrugs."What's the point?"
"The fact that you want it proves there's still something there! Whatever is holding you up,
we can work past it. Nothing can block you from being yourself!" Sarah exclaims, her brown eyes sparkling passionately.
Kayla just stares into space.
“Pease. Just try,” Sarah pleads more gently.
Kayla continues to sit perfectly still, her graceful hands folded in her lap, for an unnaturally long time.
"Kayla?" Sarah begins to get worried. “What's going on?”
Kayla still doesn't move, but her breathing gradually gets heavier until she is panting as if in terror.
"Kayla..."
All at once she sucks in her breath and springs up off of the bench. She leans against a small blossoming tree and does the most shocking thing while still catching her breath. She smiles-- no, grins. True to what Sarah said earlier, Kayla is a thousand times more beautiful when she smiles. Her pale skin lights up and two perfect dimples appear on her smooth cheeks. Her petite nose scrunches ever so slightly and, most importantly, her crystal blue eyes open wide to let the world in. She is so shocked, all she can do is laugh.
Sarah, taken aback, can't help giggling, too. “Kayla! Are you ok?" she manages to squeeze out.
Kayla shakes her head, causing her curls to bounce before answering. "Not Kayla! I know who I really am!"
"What?" Sarah stops giggling and stares into the eyes of Kayla, who has also regained her composure. "Did you say…”
Kayla nods. "You were right, nothing can stop me! I remember everything! I have a personality!”
Sarah doesn't know how to respond. “Kayla, that's... amazing!"
"I remember my real name, too. Call me Kalalaya.”
"Kalalaya?"
She nods.
"That's not a normal name. I love it."
"It's not normal for humans, anyway."
"Wait..."
"I'd better explain from the beginning."
So Kalalaya tells the whole story. As it turns out, she isn't human. She's a living particle of water. The community that she lived in before makes up the lake near Sarah's hometown where the foul water comes from. They are called the cursed, because they were doomed to a stagnant life of waste by the evil witch, Genella. Legends claim that Genella cursed the community by mistake in an experiment but didn’t bother trying to fix the damage. Nobody could punish her since the crime was unintentional, but she still faced seclusion. The lack of contact with other creatures and the knowledge that everyone was blaming her made Genella hard and bitter.
The curse made everyone useless. Some got angry and rebelled, completing their usual journeys anyway. This spread the poison farther and harmed the crops in town. Most just stayed put, living a useless life of nothingness. Spirits in the community sank low and lives became bland. Kalalaya handled it differently. She knew she couldn't let anger control her since that only harmed others, but she wasn't going to sit around and let life pass by without any action, either. What she did was make her own fun and adventures where she was, spreading her happiness and curiosity with the rest of the community to ease the gloom. Life was pretty good for Kalalaya, who never stopped dreaming about going on journeys someday, but what she didn't know was that she had an enemy. It was Genella, who was by that point an angry and depressed creature who didn’t want anyone to be happy without her. With nothing better to do, she set her focus on getting rid of Kalalaya.
An opportunity came sooner than Genella had expected when rumors started spreading about a water creature who'd turned into a human. Kalalaya thought that would be the perfect opportunity for adventure, so she began searching out ways to do it herself. That was when Genella reached out in disguise and offered to perform the magic on the over-eager girl.
"We met in a cave where she told me to go a few weeks ago, and then she cornered me and revealed who she really was and that her plan was to turn me into a dull human forever to get rid of me,” Kalalaya goes on.
"Why would she tell you?” Sarah asks, eyes wide.
"I'll bet she wanted to see me afraid, rotten scum--"
"Were you afraid?"
“Well, I don't think anyone could be pleased about something like this! But it's over now, and I have my personality back, so it worked out."
“Did it, now?” a high, cruel voice demanded from the side of the garden, making both girls jump. They turn to see a tall, bony figure standing with her hands on her hips. Her wrinkled face is creased in a permanent frown.
"Mrs. Wilson! W-why are you--" Sarah begins.
"Sarah, dear! I asked you to wash the dishes ages ago! Now stop playing in fairyland and show some gratitude for what I've done for you!" Mrs. Wilson snaps, uprooting a sunflower and tossing it aside as she talks.
"Yes m--”
"Wait!" Kalalaya puts her arm out to stop Sarah from standing up.
"Ah, and Kayla--"
Kalalaya growels at this.
“--you never emptied the waste bin, and now I've got to do it myself.” With that, Mrs. Wilson picks up a basket the girls hadn't noticed before and dumps its contents into a patch of petunias.
"You can't just--”
"That's going to hurt my people!”
"Oh, that's right, Kalalaya, was it?"
"How long have you been listening?"
"Long enough to know what I need to know."
"And that means…”
“I know that my fool of a sister is at it again. I'm on her side this time, but of course she can't pull it off! Now I'll need to step in."
"Wait, did you say--”
"Yes, yes, what a shock. Unfortunately, Genella is my sister.”
"But you're a human..."
"Did you honestly think she just made that one mistake? I'm another of her failed experiments. Filthy rat turned me human, can't turn me back."
"Then why are on her side now?" Kalalaya asks, immersed in the story.
"You were this close to breaking her curse with your happiness--" Mrs. Wilson spits this word out, “--and they don't deserve to fly free while I'm stuck here. Getting rid of you was the best bet. Since she couldn't do it, I will," Mrs. Wilson raises her voice on the last two words, making both girls jump. In a quick motion, she has them hovering in the air above the bench. They both shriek at the same time. Kalalaya begins kicking and writhing in the air while Sarah freezes in terror.
"Let us go!" Kalalaya shouts. With a nod of her head, Mrs. Wilson dropps both girls to the ground. Sarah crashes into the corner of the bench and sits panting on the ground. Kalalaya Falls onto a thorny rose bush. "Thanks," she grumbles.
"That was just for fun. Now it's time to finish what my idiot sister started!"
"She's going to take away your passion. Do something!" Sarah whispers urgently.
Kalalaya immediately begins to panic. Palms sweating, she has the feeling like she's suffocating. It's the same way she felt when Genella cursed her the first time. But she made it through that. She can do it again. Before she knows what she's doing, she stands up and realizes that Mrs. Wilson is on the ground breathing hard. "What did I just do?" Kalalaya asks.
"Something,” Sarah breathes.
"Did I... take her powers?"
"Looks like it."
Mrs. Wilson is now pulling herself up, sputtering and swearing. She waves her arms at the girls like mad, but nothing happens.
"Were you too strong for her?"
"I guess."
"I wonder if you could defeat Genella, too. Would that break the curse?"
"It makes sense. Going after the source has to work better than ignoring the problem. I'll just have to figure out how to get to her."
"Are you aware that you're shrinking?"
"Ah! What? Sarah, I think I'm changing back!" Kalalaya is already half as tall as her friend.
"Well, that explains how you'll get to Genella."
"Will I be strong enough to defeat her?"
"Of course. You can handle anything."
"What about Mrs. Wilson?"
"I'll get the police to take care of her."
"And you?”
"I'll be fine, but will I ever see you again?"
"Every time it rains, "Kalalaya promises just as she shrinks so small that Sarah can't see her.
As she dances into the spotlight, her long skirt trails behind her looking like an ocean wave at sunset. The shadows connect and for a moment the space under her chin makes a heart, but the image quickly disappears. The spotlight flickers but nobody notices. The crowd is too enthralled by her dance. Except for him. He notices, and the shadows stay on his face longer than anyone else’s. It’s his fault. She stumbles in her dance as pain shoots through her ankle. Nobody notices that, either.
One day I opened a novel to find myself spinning in the air uncontrollably. It was like I was on an invisible roller coaster. Whitish-yellowish color and a million typed words swirled around me until I landed with a plop on some cool green grass.
There were people all around, some falling from the sky and others, like me, sitting on the ground looking confused. Almost everyone there was between thirteen and eighteen years old. Some of the younger people were sitting and crying, but a few of the older ones got up to explore.
One girl that looked a bit older than the rest of us asked if we'd been trying to read a certain book. We all said yes. She said she'd read it before and could tell that we were in the story. It was decided that the best way to get back was to act out the story. We tried this and, once everyone was used to it, it was actually quite fun. Once the story was over, we all got home in a quick flash of light. We later found out that this had happened to all books, but almost everyone was able to find their way out like we did.
Now everyone is used to the magic book portals, though nobody knows how they happened yet. If I want to go on an adventure, I just have to open to the title page of a book. If I want to simply read, I need to open straight to the first chapter.
When it all began I was sitting on the shore, feeling the same between my toes and letting my mind wander. I checked my watch: 7:47AM. The date was Sunday, December 7, 1941. It seemed so ordinary, little did I know that date would live on forever as the day so many lives changed.
I should have been getting ready, but I just couldn't go to church that day. Not after the previous afternoon's drama. I had been playing in the waves at the beach with my best friend, Mindy, when Lillian showed up. "Molly!" She called, "I didn't expect to see you here!" Before I could do much of anything, Mindy was pouncing.
"What is the Japanese scrum doing at our spot?" She asked me.
At first Lillian looked shocked. Then hurt. But she put on a smile and whispered, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to say hi to my friend." My heart might have ripped in half just then. I could tell she was holding back tears. Why? There was no reason besides the unchangeable fact that she was from Japan.
"Friend? Molly's your friend now? Molly?" Mindy asked scornfully.
My face became a furnace as my stomach dropped to my toes. "What? No! She just won't leave me alone! I thought she was too small to be a real threat, even if she is Japanese, so I didn't bother trying to get rid of her." I don't know why I said that. It wasn't true, I just hated Mindy's tone.
I was thinking all of this over when suddenly I heard the roar of an engine overhead. What the... I looked up to see a bomber with the Japanese symbol on it. I whipped my head around to cast an uneasy glance at the harbor to my right.
---------
Days later I looked out the window to find a completely different island. The beaches were guarded with barbed wire and most of the ship's were gone. Destroyed. 2,335 men were killed plus 68 civilians. 1,178 more were wounded, including 35 innocent people standing by. I was one of those 35.
I shuddered at the memory. The smoke had thickened the sky in an instant and the sharp fumes had made me dizzy. Debris from our ships were flying everywhere. I tried to run but suddenly I was slammed to the ground. I couldn't feel my legs. The whole world had begun to spin. I was sure that I was dead when I saw Lillian. She was running towards me in all of the mayhem. The world went black before anything else could happen.
The next thing I knew I was seated on the couch with my mom. The scent of tea sweetened the air. Lillian was gone. I never saw her again after that. I never got to thank her. Or to apologize.
Mom's are so perfect. They know when you need to talk and when all you want to do is curl up the legs you can't feel and cry because you're so confused by this point that you don't know what to say or even think. They know that sometimes you just have to let something out, so they let you scream like a madman as loud as you like. They also know when all you need is a good book.
Oh, it felt so wonderful to be on solid ground once more! We had really made it. Well... not all of us. I remembered my brother with a sharp pang of sadness. Taking a shaking breath, I reminded myself that he was in heaven now.
My legs wobbled beneath me, for they had grown accustomed to the tossing waves and the constant rocking. Unable to stand, I knelt down and have thanks to God instead. All around me other people knelt in prayer, too. It was like a Sunday's service right then and there. We hadn't even planned it out.
It was the dead of winter. I shivered through my worn cloak and work dress, but the view below made it all worth it. The wilderness of trees and bushes before us was laced in a delicate frost that made even the thorns beautiful. It was as if a great spider had woven her web all around the forest. I had seen plenty of snow before in England, but it had never lost it's beauty to me. Something about this land was different, though. I was meant to be here. Agitated grumbles swelled up around me after some time, but all I could hear was the singing of my heart.
Wild animals ran by, much surprised to find us at their doorstep, but they weren't what the leaders were worried about. I peeked between shivering shoulders and made my way through the growing crowd to see what the trouble was. I heard cold whispers of "Barbarians" and "Wild men" that sent ants up my spine. But when at last I got to the front of the crowd, I saw nothing of the sort. What I saw was a small group of men with flesh and bones not so different from mine. They all had two arms, two legs, and faces just like me. So what was everyone scared of? Their skin was strangely dark and their clothes so very different, but what did that matter?
I was lost in thought long after I finished the introduction. How could this girl be so cheerful against all odds? I guess she was just doing what she could to make the situation better. Why couldn't I do that? I could try a new view. Lillian was gone. There wasn't anything I could do about that. What I could do was change my friends' opinions on her. Maybe one day she would come back and find an island ready to accept her, to admit that we are all humans. Maybe we could all take on a new view.
The day Elizabeth's life changed started like any other day. Grabbing her Bible from a bedside shelf along with a flashlight, Elizabeth paused to look at the brown leather cover of her precious Bible. She was proud of the book and it made her feel grown-up, even if it was in the easiest translation available. Elizabeth's dad was constantly reminding her that the words inside the Bible and, more importantly, the God who inspired them were what really mattered, not the pretty outside.
After her Bible reading, Elizabeth went into her closet to get dressed. She sighed rapturously, looking at the long plaid dress with the cute white collar and tiny buttons down the bodice. The pink dress had a simple bonnet with it on the hanger. This was Elizabeth's favorite dress; her Mom had looked at several costume shops and online but eventually she had had to sew the dress herself. It was Elizabeth's eighth birthday present. It was perfect, but she had no idea how her parents knew. Elizabeth hadn't told anyone (not even Rosa, her best friend) about her obsession. They all knew that she was doing well in history, but nobody knew how much she wanted to live in the 1840s. This was a bit of a strange obsession, and of course an
impossible wish, but every chance she got, Elizabeth imagined herself as a pioneer. The reason Elizabeth hadn't told anyone was that she was afraid people would act like she acted about the Bible and judge by the outside, even if it did work out well for the Bible.
With much more of a flat sigh, Elizabeth reached behind the dress to get a denim jacket. She pulled this on over her t-shirt, which was black with a sparkly purple music note outlined with silver studs. Purple leggings completed the look. Rosa had said this outfit was awesome (she had picked it out) but Elizabeth would much rather have worn the 1800s dress.
Elizabeth bounced down the short hall to breakfast and hardly noticed the glances her Mom and Dad kept shooting at each other. They were half-nervous and half-excited glances. Elizabeth wolfed down her toast and ignored what could have been awkward silence. After a few minutes (or an eternity depending on who you ask) Mom said, "Lizzie, could you get your sister up, we have some important news for you two." Elizabeth jumped up to wake her older sister.
"What's so important that I have to wake up early?" Elizabeth's sister grumbled as she stumbled out in her pajamas.
"Vikki, Lizzie, your mother and I have something to tell you. You may not take it well, but this is what will be best for you two,” Dad said. Elizabeth's stomach lurched. She had read a conversation that began similar to this one in a book once, and the outcome was not good. Elizabeth could hardly swallow the toast in her mouth. Palms sweating and mind reeling, Elizabeth expected the worst. What her parents actually said made her laugh a bit. "We're moving out to Warren,” was what Dad said.
Elizabeth was busy being relieved, but Vikki had no such occupation. “Are you kidding!?! Warren?! I won't ever be able to see my friends! Why would you do this?! You're ruining my life!" she cried before jumping up and stomping back to her room. Everything was silent after the passionate outburst, then Dad chuckled.
"Well that woke her up," he said.
Mom swatted at him with a towel and said, “I'd better go talk to her."
As they continued with breakfast, Elizabeth asked Dad, "We're still going to see our friends sometimes, right?"
"Of course! Warrin is right near Kinzoo, that bridge we visited last summer. It isn't too far a drive for friends to visit, it just won't be as convenient as it is now. You'll also make new friends at your new school,” he explained. Elizabeth hadn't even thought about switching schools. She didn't know why, but this idea excited her; at the innermost part of her mind, she felt that she was doing something wrong at her current school. Elizabeth still had more questions. "When are we going to move?" she inquired. "We already know what house we're going to buy, but we scheduled the closing date really far out in mid-July. We probably won't put this house up for sale until that month so we can stay here right up until that closing date," Dad told her.
The worst part was going to be telling Rosa. Elizabeth dreaded this and tried to avoid her friend at school, but at lunch Rosa couldn't be avoided any longer. “Lizzie, is there a problem? You've stayed away from me all day long. Are you mad at me?" Rosa asked right off when Elizabeth sat down at their normal table.
"What? Of course I'm not mad at you! Why would I be? I do have something to tell you, though,” Elizabeth lowered her eyes to stare at her lunch tray at that last phrase.
"Well spit it out already!" Rosa demanded.
“I'm moving. To Warren. We're leaving in about five months," Elizabeth said, preparing herself for some form of emotional outburst from her friend. Rosa looked crushed at first but soon a smile spread across her face.
“Is it April fools day and nobody told me?” she asked.
“Nope, it's still March. I'm really leaving,” Elizabeth said.
"Oh,” Rosa's face fell again, but her smile returned a moment later. "At least we still have five months, and half of that is Summer vacation. Let's have the best five months of our lives, and once you move I'll visit every month, Warren isn't so far away," Rosa said brightly. They started to make plans and soon Rosa's short brown curls were bouncing as she jumped up and down in excitement.
They did have the best five months ever, hanging out together almost every day, going to the lake, camping, fairs, and carnivals, and licking ice cream cones. Then it was time to go. Elizabeth didn't mind leaving the tiny house so much, it was saying goodbye to her friends that made her sad, but not as sad as she had expected to feel. Saying goodbye to Rosa was the worst part, but they agreed to email at least every week and visit each other every month.
Moving was crazy, even if they still owned their old house and didn't have to do it all at once. For a few days some of their furniture and other things were in one house while the rest was in the other, so something as simple as brushing their teeth could become a long search through lots of boxes and eventually a trip to the local store to buy new toothbrushes. The thing is that Dad hadn't wanted to rent a moving truck so he could save money, but really that would have simplified some things, and the gas money amounted to the same price a moving truck would be.
It was August by the time they were settled in and Elizabeth had time to explore. Now she had her own bedroom (helpful for when she woke up before Vikki, which was always) with a bookshelf on one wall, her bed on another along with the door, and her closet and dresser on the third wall. The walls were a sunny yellow and would soon be full of photos of friends and sketches of birds and flowers. On the fourth wall was a beautiful bay window with a view of the backyard, the woods behind it, and the mountain rising up behind the woods. It was her dream room, and Elizabeth could not wait to explore what lay beyond the window.
Elizabeth slowly walked through the woods, paying attention to every beautiful detail. Seeing something shimmer in the mid-morning sunshine, Elizabeth ran towards it, holding up her pioneer dress. She had worn it because she thought nobody would be around to see. Elizabeth must have looked quite silly splashing in the water in her old-fashioned dress, but she was having fun. She was in fact having so much fun that she didn't notice the girl approaching.
"Hello there! You look like you’re having fun!" the girl said.
"Oh! I was just looking for my bracelet. I dropped it,” Elizabeth immediately lied. She looked down, pretending to search, and saw the hem of her costume. Oh no! This was embarrassing. Then her eyes traveled out a bit and she saw a hem much like hers. The girls stared at each other for a moment. Elizabeth stared at the other girl's light blue, flower-speckled dress, white apron, and lacey collar. The dress was slightly loose on the girl's thin frame, also it was a bit wrinkled and had a few dirt stains. The girl had wavy blonde hair in a bun at her neck, which was messy in a pretty way. What was most interesting about this girl was her bright green eyes, which were big and curious.
Meanwhile, those curious eyes were studying Elizabeth. Her dark brown hair was in two loose braids, tied with ribbons, under her bonnet and her face, though startled and confused, was friendly. The soaked skirt of the dress looked very comical.
"Nice dress,” Elizabeth said at last in a quiet voice.
“Yeah, you too," the other girl giggled.
"I'm not really looking for a bracelet,” Elizabeth admitted.
“I didn't think it would make sense to chase it upstream,” the observant girl said. “I’m Emily, what's your name?" she asked.
“My name is Lizzie,” Elisabeth said.
"Is that short for Elizabeth?" Emily asked. Elisabeth nodded. "Why would you shorten it? Elizabeth is such a pretty name,” Emily said.
“Actually, I agree with you, it’s just that it sounds old fashioned and I don't want anyone to think I'm weird,” Elizabeth said, deciding she could probably tell Emily, who had already seen the costume and wore a similar one.
"Why do you care if they think you're weird? You are but in a good way like me. Who cares who knows it,” Emily said.
This turned a light on in Elizabeth's brain. "Ok, I think I can be myself at school, if you help. I'm going into fifth grade this year; do you think we'll be in the same class?" Elizabeth asked.
"No, I'm not going to school here,” Emily said sadly.
"Oh, I thought since you live around here..." Elizabeth began.
"Actually, I don't... anymore, I was just taking one last walk through the woods. I didn't realize you moved in already, " Emily said, trying not to cry.
"Oh, I get it. You used to live in the house my family just bought,” Elizabeth said.
"Sort of..." and then Emily broke into tears.
Once she had stopped her tears, Emily motioned for Elizabeth to follow her deeper into the woods. Presently the girls came to a clearing which was surrounded by a thick circle of pine trees. In the center of the clearing was a quaint wooden cottage. It looked like something out of Little House on the Prairie, but not quite so welcoming. Through the window Elizabeth saw that it was empty. The whole place felt lonely. Emily gripped Elizabeth's hand tightly and tears slowly rolled down her thin cheeks again. “This was your home, wasn't it,” Elizabeth whispered. Emily nodded. “Why are yον leaving?"
Taking a breath, Emily began to explain. "My Dad lost his job last year. The company went bankrupt. At first we stayed at our house while he looked for a job, but then the bank took it because we couldn't pay. Not knowing what to do, Dad turned to a friend who used to live at your house. He said he didn't have the room to shelter us, but he had a lot of money and property, so he built us this cabin. It's small, but we made it home. Everything was great until the owner of that house died and his relatives decided to sell it. Since we were on his property, we had to move, too. I was just coming for one last look before we move to my aunt’s house.”
"Wait, so my family owns this cabin now?" Elizabeth asked. Emily nodded again. "Well then you can stay!"
"What?! Shouldn't you ask your parents?"
"They lecture my sister and I all the time about showing kindness and helping the poor. Of course they'll say yes!"
Emily blushed but she was too excited to be embarrassed for long. "We can be best friends!" she said.
"We'll do everything together!" said Elizabeth.
"Just promise me one thing."
“What?”
"We'll always be ourselves together, even in public."
"Deal,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
From the moment she woke up, Abigail knew that this was not going to be an ordinary day. Then again, was any day ever ordinary? She allowed herself a few more minutes to soak in the warmth of her patterned pink comforter before opening one eye, then the other. She smelled the aroma of lavender that spilled out of the diffuser. She liked how the scent matched the purple curtains. The window shade was closed above the air conditioner and the colorful fairy lights surrounding it were not plugged in, but sunlight still peaked through to light up the room and dance on the off-white walls. The dresser along the right wall held Abigail’s art supplies and a large stack of books on top of it. On that same wall hung all of Abigail’s drawings and in that corner her dolls played. The other side of the room had a tall dresser with a backpack, a camera, and a guitar belonging to Abigail’s sister, who was waking up in the top bunk. Her dance mirror, framed in hundreds of photos, colored the wall and a giant stuffed sloth sat next to it.
Abigail rolled over and took her Bible off of her bedside shelf. She dutifully read a chapter of Luke, underlining several important verses.
____________________
She mentally went through her list of things to do to get ready for the day as she picked out a floral dress and pink capris to wear. Several whiny voices drifted through the door crack from the living room as she dressed.
Oh, did you think this was the story of a perfect girl with a perfect life? Not quite. This is the story of Abby Rater and her crazy but wonderful family. More importantly, this is the story of God’s way of working in their lives.
____________________
As Abby smoothed a brush through her tangled bedhead, she looked over at her sister’s perfect hair. It was dark at the top where the dye had grown out, but everywhere else were waves of a lighter, almost golden, brown. Abby thought bangs looked awful on most people, but Kennedy could make them work. In fact, she could make anything work; everything about her looked perfect.She could be a model if she wanted to. Now look at the contrast between this and Abby’s frizzy mess, which she was now pulling into two tight braids.
Kennedy was bending to kiss Patches, who was napping in her usual spot on Abby’s bed. Kennedy loved cats, sometimes too much, according to all of the scratches on her hands. Macey was a timid little angel. She gave a friendly ‘Brrrroew!’ of greeting whenever she entered a room and she let anyone in the family do anything they wanted to her without so much as swattimg at them. She got scared of new people, though and hid well when visitors came.
Lets just say that Patches had more spunk. Abby liked that Patches had personality, and it likely added to her own bond with the cat. Since the day Patches was found, Abby had been her favorite. Patches made Abby’s bed her own, always there for comfort or cuddle. In return, Abby was often petting and cuddling to show her love. She was, however, careful not to smother like a certain older sister.
__________________
Kennedy threw on a hoodie and saved her extensive outfit styling for after breakfast as she turned on her phone, Abby’s virtual enemy. Kennedy was always staring at that screen texting friends, playing Roblox, watching YouTube, and who knew what else. The one and only good thing about Kennedy’s phone was music. Kennedy seemed to be full of music. She played guitar at church and danced to K-pop songs at home. Abby didn’t understand K-pop whatsoever (what’s the point of music if you can’t understand the words?) and she didn’t like the tunes much, either, but she knew that Kennedy liked it a lot so ultimately (though she would never say so out loud) Abby was glad that her sister had that. After all, her older sister was also her best friend and, when she put the phone down, Kennedy made a great one. The girls did practically everything together and there was nobody Abby liked better to laugh with than Kennedy.
____________________
In the living room ten minutes later, Abby found her four younger siblings. Mason, Maddy, and Benjamin were all watching a YouTube video of someone playing video games on the TV. They may have gotten out of bed earlier than she had, but they hadn’t gotten dressed yet and Abby knew that they hadn’t moved from the couch much.
Judging by the mess of toys, pillows, books, and baby wipes in the room, Gracie had been busy. She sat on the sill of the big triple window holding a bag of chips as big as herself. A smile showed in her dimpled cheeks and scrunched up nose. The morning sunlight came through the window and created a golden halo to surround Gracie’s curls.
“Are we still walking Tucker later?” Abby asked Mason as she shoved pillows and cracker wrappers aside to set a basket of clean laundry down on the long sectional couch.
“Sure,” Mason said happily. He held out his fist for their special handshake.
Tucker was the newest addition to the family, a seven month old hound from the ANNA Shelter. He wasn’t trained at all yet and had a tendency to annoy the rest of the family, but he really was sweet and loving despite it all. Abby and Mason tried to walk him every day to get him out of the house and teach him to behave.
Annie then trotted into the room with her ears perked up. Her tongue hung out of her mouth in what looked like a smile. “Yes, we’ll bring you, too, Annie,” Abby said, bending down to pet their well behaved dog.
“Aww, you’re such a good girl,” Mason cooed, giving Annie one of his signature hugs.
“Kitty kitty kitty!” Gracie squealed as she ran to the dog on her chubby legs.
“Benjamin, want to play Mario stuffed animals in our room?” Maddy was asking.
“Shuw,” Benjamin consented and they scurried off, Maddy humming a tune as she made it up. Maddy was like Kennedy with her love of music, but in several ways she was much more like Abby. She was just as fun and quirky, she said some surprisingly thoughtful things, and somehow they just seemed to come from the same dreamland.
Like Kennedy and Abby, Maddy and Benjamin did nearly everything together and were constantly laughing hysterically about nothing. They were “best buds”. Maddy was the sassy boss and Benjamin the quiet follower. He was very quiet when he wasn’t crying. He did cry somewhat often, but that was the price of his sweet, sensitive heart. It was well worth it.
Abby was folding (and wishing she could fit into) Maddy’s unicorn shirt when Mom and Dad came in from the back deck. Dad was discussing a trucking job that he had applied for. This job had better hours than he was currently working at FedEx so he could provide for the family and have time to see them, which was what he cared about most in life. Mom was listening to him -- she was great at listening -- while putting bread in the toaster, holding Tucker on his leash, and helping Abby with the laundry. It may have been summer vacation and a Saturday no less, but the parents were still working hard and making it look easy.
“I’m sorry, do you need help with anything?” Dad asked Mom as she brought a stack of plates to the table.
“I think I’ve got it,” Mom said with a certain brightness in her tone that matched her smile.
“Let me help you, woman!” Dad exclaimed loudly in his pretend old man voice. The kids all giggled and Dad continued. “Back in my day you accepted some darned help!” The children continued to laugh as they gathered around the scuffed, cluttered, happy kitchen table and Dad continued to tease in his funny voice.
____________________
After breakfast Abby grabbed one of her many notebooks and dashed outside. She climbed up her favorite tree and fondly looked around her. The mossy yard was full of trees, a trampoline, a kitty pool, and several other toys. The paint was still peeling on the deck and the house was far from a mansion but it was cozy and it was home. What Abby loved most about her home city, Harborcreek, was that no matter which way she looked, if she strained her eyes far enough, they would eventually fall on woods. She didn’t have to strain her eyes much to the left, for there was her own little wood that stepped into the yard.
“June 15, 2050
Dear Diary,
Today I boarded the Stardust. The captain, Roger Lillings, seems to like me, maybe. I think I’m in love with him. Maybe someday, Rodger and I will be married and our kid will be reading this diary. Wow, I am getting way ahead of myself!”
Ridley Lillings smiles as she reads through the old entry in her mother’s journal. Her mom really hadn’t gotten ahead of herself, Rodger proposed six years after the ship took off, and a year after that Ridley was born. Now, thirteen years later, the rocket is due to land within the week. The small family’s life is about to change as they settle in a completely different star system. Ridley shudders and continues reading.
“The ship is OK, ish. It could be more inviting. The whole place is near the size of a New York City neighborhood. In fact, the apartments look almost exactly the same as those in New York; pretty plain. I was honestly hoping it would be more different, more inspiring. At least we can decorate however we want to with what we brought. I like how the ceiling is blue to remind us of Earth’s skies, but there are windows everywhere to remind us where we are and the
adventure we are on.
We are headed for Proxima Centauri b, a cold planet that orbits the red dwarf star Proxima Centauri, which is part of the binary star system called Alpha Centauri. We are traveling 36,319 mi./hr. (which is 21.3% the speed of light) to this system which is closest to ours at just 25 trillion miles away. The trip should take 20 years if all goes well.”
Ridley stops reading in frustration.
Cindy walks into Ridley’s small bedroom after getting no response to her knock on the door.
“What’s wrong, sis?” she asks after seeing the confusing mix of emotions on Ridley’s face.
They aren’t really related, but neither has any real siblings. Ridley is sure she couldn’t ask for a cooler, smarter big sister than Cindy. Cindy needs someone to talk to (none of the 50 passengers on the Stardust are her age) and Ridley understands her more than anybody else. You could say these girls have their own type of symbiosis.
When Ridley just gives a shrug, Cindy comes over and sits down next to her on the bed.
“Did you know there are more stars in space than grains of sand on the Earth?” Cindy asks, gazing out the window at the stars that look like only white streaks because of the crazy speed. “We get to see so many more of them than most people, and think how much more there is to explore on the new planet! Don’t you see how lucky we are?” she exclaims, trying to get emotion out of her almost sister.
“But it’s all so new! I’m not ready? All that book will tell me is facts I already know about that stupid planet!” Ridley cries angrily.
“Hey, this is going to be new for me, too. I was born two years after the Stardust took off. We’re ready, and I have an idea to prove it,” Cindy says.
“Really? What is it?” Ridley asks, perking up. Cindy’s ideas are always fun.
“Before I tell you, I need your help with a hydraulic arm I’m planning on building,” Cindy says.
“Fine, but I’m bad at science,” Ridley warns.
“We’ll see about that.”
“There is no way I can be of any help building that!” Ridley panics when she sees the complicated looking instructions.
“Don’t worry, this is only a practice model. We need to be sure we can rely on hydraulics for heavy lifting since the fortress we have to let us survive for more than 15 seconds out there may cause our electricity to act up. Don’t worry about the instructions; they look confusing, new, and scary at first but once you dive in and take it step by step it’s really fun,” Cindy says.
“OK,” Ridley says, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
“First we need a square base about eight by eight inches. We can use cardboard for that,” Cindy directs. Ridley neatly cuts the piece out of a large, thick rectangle.
“Now we need something that rotates to attach the arm to,” Cindy says. A four by four square of cardboard and a brad easily solve that problem. Next they cut out four rectangles that are six by two inches. They hot glue two of them across from each other an inch from the edges of the smaller of the two squares.
“Now what?” Ridley asks, excited.
“Well, these are some other pieces of the arm. We need to attach them in a way that lets it bend,” Cindy says. She holds up the two pieces identical to those already attached.
“We can use more brads for the joint!” Ridley suggests. The instructions aren’t needed now. After that part is attached, they need two eight by two inch rectangles to complete the arm. They attach them the same way, but an inch towards the middle. Now the arm part is complete. Time for the claw.
Taking a cardboard triangle, Cindy explains the claw to Ridley. “Now cut two small rectangles and set them aside. Little bigger, perfect! OK, now you have to cut out an obtuse angle that is one inch wide.” Cindy performs this part as she explains it so now they have two of the angle. Next they face the angles toward each other and glue a rectangle to the bottom of each one. These pieces then have a brad put through both of them and are attached with it to the original triangle, still facing each other. Taking two relatively long pieces of metal wire, Cindy pokes one through the edge of each rectangle and twists it so that it will stay. Ridley does the grips by herself under Cindy’s approving gaze. First she wraps a one by two inch cardboard rectangle over each end and, after securing them with brads, adds strips of hot glue so it will hang onto things better. When they glue the completed hand on, they add counterweights to the back of the base to keep it stable. Now it’s time for the real hydraulics.
After filling four syringes with differently colored water, they attach a tube to each syringe and attach another syringe to the opposite end. Once this is done, all they have to do is position the empty syringes so once the ends push out, each one pushes on a different movable part and attach them with glue or zip ties.
Finally it’s time for the test run. Holding her breath, Ridley pushes the red syringe to squeeze the water out, into the tube, and into the other syringe. The end pops out of the filling syringe, pushes on the base it’s attached to, and causes the whole thing to spin. “It worked! It worked!” Ridley cries.
“Not bad for your first try engineering!” Cindy says, high-fiving her almost sister.
“That was actually fun!” Ridley exclaims.
“Interesting,” Cindy says with a half smile.
“What?”
“Have you ever done this before?”
“You know I haven’t.”
“Interesting.”
“OK?”
“So would you call this an old experience?”
Ridley laughs, she knows exactly what’s going on now. “No,” she says, “It would be called a new experience.”
“New and fun, now that is interesting.”
“You were right, I guess new can be fun!” Ridley realizes. “I can hardly wait to try out this new planet!” she cries. Cindy smiles, mission accomplished.
“That's everything you'll need, and the instructions are right here. Tell me if you need anything, Ok," Dad said. Amy was looking for a hobby and Dad was a builder. Maybe building could be Amy's hobby. He wanted Amy to try building by herself to see if she was really good at it.
Amy picked up the instruction packet. It said "How to Build a Swing: an easy step-by-step project for kids," on the front in big letters.
Amy nailed together all the parts and tied the ropes after Dad drilled the holes. Amy hung the swing while Dad held the ladder. Now it was time to test it out.
Amy felt the wind in her hair and the way it gently resisted her legs as she kicked back for more speed. She felt amazing. The swing seemed to be working perfectly, or maybe not.
Suddenly Amy was flying farther, much farther, than she should have been. She was still sitting on the seat of the swing. . . but the ropes had come untied at the highest point! Amy braced herself for the impact. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation of the fall, and then something changed.
Amy was still swinging. She was as high as when she was about to fall, but she came gently back down, and up again, and down. As the swing slowed to a stop, Amy looked at her surroundings. The swing looked very different; the seat, now carved and twisted, hung from the tree on two long, deep green vines. Leaves and bright pink flowers of all sizes grew on them. Nearby Amy saw a huge deer gracefully bend down to take a drink in the lake, which sparkled in the pale sunshine. All was peaceful. Amy wasn't the least bit afraid of the large animal. The ground was all mossy hills and valleys. Trees were growing all around and big butterflies were everywhere.
''Excuse me, Mr. Deer, could you please come over here and tell me what in the world is going on?'' Amy asked. The child knew that animals do not normally talk, but she asked the question and was not at all surprised when the deer answered.
''I cannot come over, I am sorry to say. Deer are not allowed in the fairy kingdom, we may accidentally hurt someone. It is a shame, though, I've always wanted to try some of the fairies' cake,'' he said.
''Fairies? Am I a fairy now? Is that why you look so big?'' Amy wondered.
''Certainly, you came here to find a hobby and even though you don't have wings, there are many fairies who will help you as if you are one,'' the deer explained. Amy was amazed.
So the fairies helped Amy find a hobby. At first it didn't go well.
''I'm sorry I spilled your paint, Andy, I'll help you clean it up,'' Amy apologized to the art fairy.
Andy laughed and her smile sparkled just as much as her magical wings. "At least you got just the purple shade I needed, but it shouldn't be in the sky! Don't worry, I can fix it," she said. They were painting in a meadow full of flowers in all shades of purple.
''Maybe cleaning is your hobby, you could balance out your clumsiness,'' Cassie, the craft fairy, joked after Amy made another mess. The shelves lining the craft room were covered in pink slime and even Cassie's bouncy curls had glue in them.
''Wow, am I bad at singing, but at least I don't have to clean anything up this time, unless I shattered one of those big windows,'' Amy laughed to Mira, the music fairy.
"You didn't. Don't worry, I know you'll find your hobby soon," Mira said. Her big blue eyes told the truth.
Finally, Amy tried baking with a fairy named Brittany. ''OK, let's make fairy cake,'' Brittany said, ''It's sweeter than you are!'' When Brittany smiled, dimples appeared on her chocolate-colored cheeks. The tidy kitchen had everything imaginable to use for baking organized nicely. Three flower spills and a dozen broken eggs later, it wasn't looking nearly as neat.
''I'm sorry I made such a mess, I was distracted by an idea: why don't just a few fairies fly treats over to the animals. I'm sure the animals won't accidentally hurt them if there's only a few,'' Amy explained.
''What a great idea!'' Brittany said. ''Let's get started right away!''
Soon the whole kingdom was abuzz with plans for the animals. A party was planned so that all the fairies could get together to cook food big enough.
''I see you've found your hobby, little one,'' said Opal, an elderly fairy whose wrinkled face was framed in long snow white hair.
''What do you mean?''
"Well, you enjoy helping animals, and you're wonderful at it,'' Opal explained, ''It's not just animals either, look how excited everyone is because of you. A real talent you have.'' Suddenly Amy understood.
''Oh thank you! You all helped me find my hobby, and it even helps others!'' she cried.
''In Mark 9:35, Jesus says, 'Whoever wants to be first must take last place and be the servant of everyone else.' That means that if you are humble and make it your ability, or hobby, to serve others, you will become great,'' Opal said.
Amy beamed as she surveyed the scene around her. "It works fast," she said, "This is already pretty great!"
"Come on Eric, hurry up! We need to get to the airport so we can see Shaline!!!" Steffeny hollered up the stairs as she grabbed her suitcase and her pillow from the landing.
“Geez Stef, I'm coming," Eric emerged from his bedroom wearing pajama pants and an old sloppy T-shirt.
"Go hurry up and change, we need to look trés magnifique when we get to Pari," Steffeny said, smoothing down her light pink quilt material tank top dress. She wore a short shawl of the same material. The look was completed with a black belt studded with fake jewels.
"You do know that we probably won't land in ‘paree' until it is midnight there," Eric said as he patted his little sister on the head, causing her pink beret to slide further to the side of her head.
“Still gotta look great for the plane ride!" Steffany said cheerfully as she grabbed all her things and skipped out to the car. She was too excited to argue with Eric. This was going to be the adventure of a lifetime!
“Eric! Steffy! Get ready to leave in the next five minutes!” their mom called from the car. ‘I hope this adventure will give me some good ideas to publish
in Girl World,' Steffeny thought as she ran to the car and threw her stuff in the trunk. ‘Here we go!’ As she buckled her seatbelt she wondered what adventures lie ahead.
Steffeny woke up to a gentle tap on her shoulder.
“Time to wake up sleepyhead!" her mom said, "We're in Paris!" Steffeny sat bolt upright, sending a notebook and pencil sailing onto the floor. Oops, hurriedly she picked up her things.
"Mom do you know where my phone went?" Steffeny asked as she ruffled through her bag.
"I have it in my bag charging. You took some cool pictures by the way," her mom said.
"Thanks, too bad the height made me so dizzy I couldn't take any more pictures," Steffeny said.
“At least you got some, now let's wake up those boys and start our adventure!" her mom said. "Already on it, WAKE UP ERIC!" Steffeny hollered as she jumped on Eric's legs and pulled away his blanket.
“Alright, alright, I'm awake!" Eric laughed.
“Kids, we are still on a plane!" their mom scolded.
"Sorry Mom," they both said at the same time. Soon their dad was awakened and they headed off. Two hours later the four of them were riding through the heart of France in a taxi. "Mom! I think I see the Eiffel Tower!" Steffany shouted.
"Oh look there it is!" Mom said.
"Wow," said Dad.
"Cool!" said Eric. They all stared at the beautiful structure for a long time, speechless.
“It's like one of those aesthetic pictures you see on the internet but in real life!" Steffeny finally exclaimed.
“Oh shoot, I left my phone in my bag in the trunk,” Eric said.
"Dang, so did I,” Steffeny said.
“Mine's dead." Dad said.
“I don't have a very good angle from up here but don't worry, we have a tour of the city tomorrow by Shaline so we can get lots of pictures then.
“Yeah!” Dad exclaimed.
“Woo-hoo!” Steffeny cried.
“Awesome!” Eric shouted.
"Mom, Dad, wake up, is that the hotel?" Eric asked, nudging his parents awake.
"Oh my gosh I think that's it!” Steffeny squealed. It was very late so they loaded their luggage into their master suit and then crashed down in the beds. The next morning everybody woke up at 1:30pm Paris time. Except Steffeny, she woke up at 10:20am Paris time and finished writing in her diary. Once that was finished she pulled out a purple notebook and began a story about a girl who traveled to Paris all alone, hoping to become an architect by studying the Eiffel Tower. Steffeny paused, biting the eraser nub of her pencil. “It was as if the whole world stopped for a moment as Linda stared up at the amazing structure. It shot straight up into the black sky. Lights flickered on top of the tower, probably tourists. A loud ‘honk!’ sent the girl back to reality. Linda turned around and froze as she saw a navy blue SUV headed straight towards her!" Steffeny stopped and examined her work with satisfaction. "Steffeny! Come have some lunch!" she heard her Dad call.
“Coming!" Steffeny replied as she set her notebook on her bedside table.
"Is Shaline up yet? Please say she is!" Stelleny asked as she skipped into the large suite's kitchen.
"Right here waiting for you little sis,” Shaline said from somewhere behind Steffeny. She whirled around and was caught up in a huge hug from her sister.
“I missed you so much!” she said, trying not to cry.
“I missed you, too, but I'm glad you got to come here. You are going to love it,” Shaline replied.
“Excuse me, hello, it's just me, you know, the big brother you haven't seen in a month,” Eric said.
“Eric!” Shaline cried. Once the hug fest was done the family decided to rent a car and drive to a café for lunch. Shaline said she knew a great one in the heart of Paris so she whispered something to Mom and directed her where to drive. Soon they arrived at the Eiffel Tower. Later Steffeny wrote in her diary, “I was so excited when we pulled up in front of the Eiffel Tower. It looked even more amazing from up close. The tower rose high above me and the rest of the city. Being there made me feel like I could do anything. Then about six strangers bumped into me as they passed. I was sucked back to reality and as I looked around I saw just how many people there were, hundreds and thousands. Oh boy, I am super duper shy. We had to park a few blocks away and getting there was like trying to get through the crowd at a firework show times a million. I was getting very anxious and then I looked up at the tower and calmed a little. We finally got through the crowds of tourists and entered into the Eiffel Tower. It was very loud inside but once we got to the table that Shaline reserved for us it was ok. The food was SO GOOD! I don't remember what it was called but something delightfully French. We got macaroons for dessert and if Paris had a taste that is what it would be. Dad was a little uneasy about going to the top of the tower but we convinced him. I couldn't enjoy it though! All the people everywhere and all the noise made me want to curl up in a ball somewhere and hide. The view was breathtaking. I took some good pictures. We stopped in the gift shop and then there was the long walk back to the car. They all wanted to see the lovelock bridge but I begged Mom to drop me off at the hotel first. It took a lot of whining, but eventually she gave in. So that's where I am now. Alone in our hotel. Waiting for my family to get back from the fun they are having without me. All because I am too shy. So much for a fun vacation. I would have been better off staying home, then I could at least go outside.”
"What boring stuff have you been up to while we had fun?" Eric asked Steffeny.
“I wrote in my diary and then I worked on my story for Girl World," she told him.
“What's Girl World?" Eric wanted to know.
"Girl World is a company that makes dolls, books, and magazines, right now they are holding a contest for young girls like me. The winner gets their original story published in the magazine and the basic plot and character ideas for their next Star Girl doll and story." Steffany explained.
“And a star girl is?” Eric asked.
"Oh right, every year they come out with a new star girl. It's basically the newest character whose story is set in the present time so on January 1st a new star girl will be released for 2039,” she explained.
“Gacha, that is all very weird but I hope your story does well,” Eric said.
“Thanks, I think,"Steffeny said.
"Any time lil sis."
"I'm starving! What do you guys say we stop at a café for dinner, I have a few up my sleeve. Or we could go to the park and have a picnic, oh! there is this patisary that you guys just have to see! It is sooo good! Or we could stop at le boulanger for croissants, what do you guys think?" Shaline was talking a mile a minute, she had been in the city longer than the rest of the family and took her role as tour guide very seriously.
“Um, I think we should just eat here, I mean, café food must be so unhealthy. Mom, I know you really care about our diets and stuff," Steffeny said, proud of herself for coming up with such a good excuse.
"Actually food laws here are much more strict than they are in the USA so we would really be better off going to a café than eating what we brought from home," Shaline told them.
“Plus we’re on vacation, I don't mind breaking a few household rules just this once," Mom said.
Dang it! “Well, um, doesn't Shaline have to rest up before the Olympics, isn't that why you aren't training this week?" Steffeny said, thinking fast.
“I'm fine, nothing more relaxing than dinner with my family." Shaline said, grabbing her purse.
“But, but um, well," Steffeny stammered.
“Steffeny what’s going on? You were so excited to come to Paris, don't you want to actually experience it?" Mom asked in concern.
“No I don't, not anymore, but everything is fine!" Steffeny said fiercely, willing herself not to cry.
“Everything is not fine sweetie, what's wrong?" Dad asked.
“If I tell you, you will think that I'm a greedy, selfish, ungrateful jerk, because I am," she said, letting just one tear slip down.
“You are not any of those things and you know it, just tell us what's wrong, maybe we can help," Shaline said.
"Fine," Steffeny said.
“...Then I poured it all out. How scary and stressful it was to see so many people everywhere and how nervous I got. I told them how ungrateful I feel because every girl wants to go to Paris and I'm here but I just want to go home. I told them how disappointed I am. Paris not what I thought it would be. The more I talked about it, the more I just wanted to go home. When I finished telling all my problems Mom gave me a hug.
"Oh sweetie, l know how it feels. When I about your age I went to New York city and I had the same problem,” she told me.
"What did you do about it?" I asked.
“Nothing, I was miserable for the whole trip and when we got home I was disappointed that I had wasted such a cool adventure," Mom said.
"If you really don't like the city, fine, but don't let shyness or fear stop you from having fun,” Dad added.
"Oh, I love the city!" I exclaimed.
"The Eiffel Tower is amazing, everything is beautiful, and the food is like a bite of heaven, but I can't enjoy that," I said sadly.
"Why not? What are all those people doing to stop you? Nothing. Just ask yourself what you have to lose," Shaline encouraged.
“I get what you guys are saying but I still just don't know how to stop being so shy," I said in frustration.
"I know,” Eric said. I was surprised he had spoken up, my brother tries to stay as far away from feelings as much as possible. “If every one of those people out there was either a friend or a relative, would you still be scared or shy?” he asked me. No, I would not. "Ok well just imagine that everyone here is a friend. It's a nice place, if you knew them I bet they would be your friends. Here you can be as crazy as you want, nobody will judge you,” Eric went on. Wow, well said.
"I guess I'll give it a try, is that patisserie still open?" I asked Shaline.
"Yup, they close at nine,” she replied. So we had baked treats for dinner that were apparently healthier than a USA burger. When I looked around I noticed that every single person was laughing, smiling, and joking around with somebody else. All except one girl, a little younger than me. Before I knew what I was doing I walked to her and asked what was wrong. She muttered something in another language.We tried to communicate for a minute but it was hopeless. I pulled up a translation app on my phone and pieced together that she had been separated from her parents in the crowd. She showed me a picture of them. The girl and her mother looked similar with light brown skin and golden brown hair pulled back into braids. The girl's father had darker skin and hair with a mustache. All three of them had beautiful blue eyes. We asked a few people and then I spotted them near the far corner. I pointed them out and the girl ran to reunite with her parents. Then she turned and pointed at me. I waved at them and then went to find my family. They were all very surprised and proud of me. Honestly I was pretty proud of myself. I guess that was the end of my people phobia. I can't wait to find out what other adventures are headed my way now that I can enjoy them. Let's see!”
Steffeny closed her diary with satisfaction. ‘Now that is a good story,’ she thought. That gave Steffeny an idea for her Girl World story. She smiled. ‘Dreams really do come true in Paris,’ she thought, Shaline’s dream of being in the Olympics, her dream of becoming an author, and so many more! That just gave Steffeny another idea!
Sitting at a table in the Eiffel Tower café, Steffeny looked over the beautiful landscape below. Then she looked at her computer screen. Steffeny quickly scrolled through her story one last time to make sure everything was just right. She had written a brief summary of the story that she hoped would be on the back of the book.
It read: “Annabella loves the Ukulele. She also loves singing. Annabella's twin sister Izzy is a poet and she loves to write songs for her twin. Annabella, unlike her sister, is dreaming big and trying to make it reality. When her parents surprise her with a trip to Paris for her birthday Annabella sees her chance. Izzy isn't so sure about all of this yet. So, two sisters, different talents, dreams, worries, and the trip of a lifetime. How do you think it will all shake down?”
Taking a deep breath, Steffeny closed her eyes and hit submit. ‘Yup, this is real,’ she told herself.
Steffeny scrolled down to read entries by other girls her age. She wondered what had inspired their stories. “Tink, tink, tink," Steffeny checked her phone to see who had texted her. It was Shaline, she said, “We’re just leaving the grocery store, Mom wants to meet you in the parking lot in 5 so we can get to the Olympics early, can't wait!”
Steffeny quickly typed back, “Ok, can't wait to see you crush it!”
"Ma, where did you put the oven mitts? I can not find them in their usual drawer," Mary asked, looking uneasily at the pan of cornbread on the stove that would soon burn.
"I believe they are in that box on your Pa's chair,” Ma said.
‘Why on earth would over mitts be there?’ Mary wanted to ask. Instead she went to get the mitts. Mary had noticed strange things like this happening a lot lately. She was worried about Ma, and Pa too.
“I reckon there is no nine-year-old happier than me on this side of the Mississippi!" Mary's twin Carrie exclaimed as she burst through the front door. Carrie was covered from head to toe in dirt and leaves, her bonnet had fallen down and she had sunburn and lots of freckles on her nose. Carrie’s condition looked even more messy when compared to her sister’s. Mary was very clean, her dress was white with a pink rose bud pattern and it looked good as new (Carrie wore the same dress but it was more brown than white). Mary's bonnet sat primly atop her hair which was pulled back into two neat braids, completed with rosebud hair ribbons.
"Eeeek,” Mary shrieked, “Don't touch me or my stuff while covered in that muck!” she ordered.
“Alright I won't but I don't expect me not to get filthy again, I darn love those woods! I ain't never gonna leave ‘em!" Carrie said.
"Please remember to speak politely and use proper grammar,” Ma said quietly, her eyes on the ground.
“What's the matter, Ma," Carrie asked flat out.
"Don't be rude, Carrie," Mary said, though she was curious herself.
“No, I suppose I should tell you girls sometime,” Ma said.
“Tell us what?" the girls asked in unison, Mary forgetting her manners.
"Well... we're moving,” Ma said after a long pause.
“What!?" Carrie cried.
“Why?!" Mary asked.
"Have you girls seen all the flyers going about for the Oregon Trail?” Ma asked. The twins just stared at their mother dumbly. "Well it is a group of covered wagons headed for Oregon. Your Pa has been losing a lot of money lately due to a few ruffians in town so we decided that this is the best choice to make sure we can support you girls and keep you safe," Ma explained.
Mary started crying. Even though Carrie's eyes were also starting to fill with tears she was still the stronger, braver twin. She put her arm around Mary and said, "Well we can at least make use of the time we have left at this house."
"That's the spirit, we don't have to leave for another month, I should have known that my Carrie would find a way to look on the bright side,” Ma said, giving both girls a big hug.
That month was wonderful, the most fun that was ever had at the Rightworth cabin. After chores the days were filled with swimming in the pond for Carrie, reading and working in the garden for Mary, and picnics for all. Then the horrid day came. The day that the twins had been dreading all month. The day they would leave the only house they had ever lived in. They would be leaving all their friends and family, never to return again.
The day they left was clear and cool. The family drove their wagon into town to meet the rest of the train. Goodbyes had been said, tears had been shed, and now it was time to start the beginning of the rest of their lives. It was 5:00 AM on September 8,1844, a date that would stand in the Rightworth family history for centuries to come. The twins would have liked to crawl back into bed, or at least to hide out in the wagon for the rest of the day. It's not like they weren't used to getting up so early, they did almost every day, but they had cried most of the previous night and were in no walking mood. With the wagon fully packed there was no room for the girls to sit. For the next two hours they walked and walked AND WALKED. Finally it was time to break for breakfast.
Their progress was surprisingly slow so they were now on the outskirts of town. Mary and Carrie scarfed down their oatmeal very quickly and spent the rest of the time exploring around the other wagons. As they were walking by one of the other wagons they saw a girl sitting by one of the big wheels. Mary thought that the girl looked much older, maybe 14 or 15. She quietly kept walking out of respect and shyness. Carrie noticed that the girl held a book and was contently sketching a nearby flower. “Hello!" Carrie said, "I'm Carrie and this is Mary, what are you doing?" she asked.
"Um, hi, I'm Eliza," the girl said quietly.
“That's nice, what are you doing?" Carrie demanded again.
"Oh me, I'm just drawing. I promised my Ma that I would write to her about everything but words can't describe this beauty. I vowed to myself to sketch all the scenery and send it to Ma with my letters,” Eliza said.
"Why isn't your Ma coming with you?" Carrie asked bluntly.
“She can't, she is pregnant. My Pa is staying back with her, my uncle brought my little sister and I here with him. If all goes well Ma and Pa will come in about a year.” Eliza's eyes filled with tears but she tried to hide it.
“How terrible for you,” Mary said sympathetically, "Why did they send you ahead?" Carrie asked.
“They said it was to keep me safe but I think they just wanted to get rid of me for a while,” Eliza said miserably.
“You know that isn't true! I just met you but I think you are a very delightful person. I’m sure nobody would ever want to be rid of you,” Mary said soothingly.
“I'm sorry if I made you sad," Carrie said.
"It's fine, I needed a good talk, and some friends,” Eliza said.
"Maybe this trip won't be so bad after all," Mary said.
“Want to come walk with us?" Carrie asked.
"More walking!" all three groaned, then burst into laughter
The lessons in this story? The twins learned that however bad it seemed, they were lucky to have what they had. They also learned that friendship makes things better.
Tracy the wolf sat in confusion as her pack passed around panicked words and phrases. "Trees cut down... shopping mall... home destroyed... fight back..." Everything became clear with these bits of information.
"Mommy, is someone really going to destroy our home?" Tracy asked. Her big, puppy-like eyes stabbed at her Mommy’s heart.
“The humans want to, but I'm sure your Daddy and uncles will take care of this," she said.
“I don't like when Daddy fights," the pup said.
"If his fighting scares you, a full blood wolf, it will definitely scare the humans away. Then you, your Daddy, all your aunts and uncles, and I can live peacefully and safely again,” Mommy tried to reassure her. "I guess,” Tracy said half heartedly.
"Arrrwooo! Arrarrarrrrwoo!" Tracy's Daddy howled in pain as he limped into his cave. The same cry echoed through the surrounding area.
"Daddy! What happened?” Tracy asked in alarm.
"Are you ok, Frank,” Mommy asked her husband.
"I'm fine, but the attack didn't go as planned. We underestimated those humans, they know how to deal with wolves. More than half our army was hurt, not badly, but we can't beat those humans, arrrooo!" he cried again in pain.
"Don't worry so much now! You need to rest. Tracy will get you some soup while I take a look at that leg. We ladies and the men who aren't hurt will make a new plan tomorrow," Mommy says, making the reluctant wolf comfortable.
"Do I have to come with you to the meeting?" Tracy whined the next day.
"Yes sweetie, you know very well that there is nobody to watch while your Daddy rests,” Mommy said in a voice that is both gentle and stern.
"But I don't like hearing about it," the young wolf complained.
"I know what you mean, but this is going to make things better. We will not let those humans take our land,” Mama encouraged, as she led her daughter to the clearing where wolves attend to all their pack's protection.
"Awww," Aunt Talila said, "I don't know why any human would want to harm such a sad, adorable baby."
Tracy's response was the tiniest giggle.
"You just gave me an idea!” Mommy said to her sister. “Maybe we could get humans to see the whole pack the same way you see Tracy," she explained.
“Those eyes could melt anybody's heart," one uncle said.
"Should we try it?" another asked. All of the animals froze as they heard footsteps behind them.
“Well, I don’t see any other plan," an aunt said. Tracy looked up at the humans with a pitiful expression on her face. The rest of the wolves did the same.
"Awwl c'mon Russel look how cute they are!” a man named Jim said.
"Cute!? They're beasts!" Russel exclaimed.
"But look how sad they are!" another man, Lucus, protested.
"How would you like it if someone destroyed your home?" Robert asked fairly.
"As construction supervisor, I order you to start cutting these trees this instant!" Russel commanded.
"And what if we don't?" Lucus challenged.
"I'm taking the matter up with Lily!" Russel said.
"And? Lily has a heart, she'll agree to have the mall built someplace else,” Tim pointed out.
Russel grunted and groaned, stomping back and forth. “Fine! It's not my problem anyway because I quit!" he explodes.
"Fine by me," said Robert.
"Go tell Lily," Jim said. With a final exasperated noise, Russel stomped off.
"Let's go look for somewhere else to build, boys," Lucas said. The wolves watched the humans walk away, astonished.
"I think it worked!" Aunt Talila said at last.
"Tracy, you saved the day!” Mommy cried.
"Let’s go tell Daddy he won't have to fight anymore!” Tracy said, beaming and not looking a bit sad or sorry but even cuter than ever.
"Here's the mail, Mom, what's in this golden envelope?" Mason asked as he walked into the kitchen with a pile of bills, letters, newspapers, and yes, one golden envelope.
"What's that?” Maddy asked, even though her brother just asked the same question.
“It's an envelope, duh," Abby joked as she walked by then, "Woa! Is it heavy?"
Mason weighed it against the other mail, "No, not really, it really isn't that heavy. I mean..." His answer took a long time considering he is eight years old and likes to repeat himself.
"Cool!" Benjamin said, though he hardly knew what was going on.
"Mo-o-om!" Maddy called in her whiny six-year-old voice.
"What?" Mom asked, coming out of the laundry room with an overflowing basket of laundry in her hands.
"Do you know what's in this golden envelope?" Abby asked.
"No, I don't think it's a bill, it's probably just a really fancy ad,” Mom answered.
“It's addressed to our whole family," Abby said.
“So can I open it?" Mason asked.
"I wanne open it!" Maddy whined.
"Let me open it!" four-year-old Benjamin said, just wanting to be in on the argument.
"Mason asked first, he can open it, tell me what it is,” Mom said as she began to fold the laundry.
"Try not to rip it, I'll keep the paper for a craft if nobody else has a use for it," Abby said. She didn't have to ask him, he was cutting the gold paper as if it were real gold. A typed letter was pulled out of the envelope. Mason tried reading it but could hardly make out what it said. Abby took the letter and began to silently read.
“What does it say?" all three of the little kids asked at the same time. "Uuuum, ‘I am very sad to inform you that Henry Rupert Billowerd has passed away. I am his son, your long lost cousin and/or second cousin, Rupert Billoward. Henry was quite wealthy and wished to give $1,000,000,000 to every family related to himn, closely or not so what you must do is…’ then there's a bunch of legal stuff I don't understand,” Abby said when she finished reading.
“Wait, what?” Maddy asked.
“It says that apparently our super rich long lost uncle died and we inherited a boat load of money! "Abby said, it didn't matter much to her because she figured Mom and Dad would just put it into savings in case they ever needed it. Benjamin didn't really care because he didn't really understand the concept of money. Mason, on the other hand, was crazy with excitement, he was already picturing himself sitting on a pile of lego sets as big as the house. He was also jumping up and down and flapping his hands like a clumsy bird that forgot how to fly. Maddy was dancing around the house and thinking of all the different toys she would get on every trip to Walmart. Of course she would forget about the toys the day after she got them but that was a minor detail.
"What are you doing?" Kennedy asked as she walked in with Graclie in one arm and her kindle in the opposite hand. Nobody could tell if she was annoyed or jokeing, at age fourteen, she was usually annoyed.
"We won a bunch of money and I'm gonna get a tower of lego sets!” Mason shouted.
“I didn't hear anything about lego sets but yeah Mom and Dad inherited $1,000,000,” Abby said. "Wow!" said Kennedy.
"Aaaa!" screamed nine-month-old Gracie.
"Calm down! "Mom told everyone, “When Dad gets home from work I'll talk to him so we can decide what to do with the money.
"Do we get any of the money?" Mason arked at lunch the next day. Mom and Dad looked at each other in a weird way. “Wha?"
“We were thinking about giving each of you a little bit of it to teach you about handling money,” Dad said.
"Really? Yay! How much?" all the kids started talking at the same time.
"Probably just $100 each, we'll save the rest." Mom said.
"One hundred dollars!!!" most of the kids shouted at once.
“Can we go on vacation next Summer?" Abby asked.
"Maybe," Mom said, this produced more cheers from all the kids. The following week the busy family set off to claim the money. They were shocked to see a set of fire trucks, lights on, their hoses going into the bank. Smoke was billowing out of the windows. Not knowing anything about the situation, Mom and Dad figured it would be a good idea to come back a different time. On his way home from work a few days later, Dad drove by and saw that nothing seemed wrong at the bank so he stopped in.
"May I ask about that fire last Saturday," Dad said.
"Oh yes, that, we're not sure what started it but it began in the room where the bills are kept in the box for the Rater family," the worker said.
"Oh no! I'm Mark Rater, I assume you have all of it digitally somewhere though, right?" Dad said.
“Yes we were able to recover your money earlier today, would you like to take some out sir?" the worker asked.
"Yes please, if you wouldn't mind," Dad said.
"How much?" the worker asked.
"$500 please," Dad requested.
“Right away sir," and then he left to retrieve the money.
“I’m gonna get a lego set, and a stuffed animal, and a nerf gun, and..."
"Mason, you don't have enough money for all of that, and don't you want to save some?" said Kennedy, annoyed.
“How do you know I won't have enough money?" Mason asked, now he was also annoyed. Kennedy made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a groan. Then the two were off bickering for the rest of the drive to Walmart, so a whole two minutes. As it turns out he did not have enough money and ended up spending all of it on one huge lego set. Maddy took a long time to choose, then she bragged about having $50 left over from the baby doll and clothes for a different doll that she got. Benjamin went nuts and wanted to buy the whole store, since he couldn’t do that, he finally got some Paw Patrol cars and a Spider Man car. At that point Mom and Dad are both thinking, ‘This was a terrible idea!’ Kennedy and Abby decided to save their money so finally the parade of people and toys left.
When Mom and the kids returned to Walmart to get groceries, it was a mad house outside. As it turns out, the day after the Raters went shopping a burglar came in the night and stole all the money in the cash register as well as expensive electronics and... toys? Mom decided they would just shop at Aldi’s for a few weeks. After unloading the groceries from the car, Mom sent the three oldest kids to get the garbage cans from the end of the driveway. As Mason was picking up one of the cans, he felt something stuck to it. "Wait, what's this?" he asked, holding up an old-looking brownish yellow paper.
“It's a note, here, lemme see that, it says 'How have you not figured this out by now? With that money you also inherited a curse. Bad things will keep happening wherever you put the money or spend it. The only way to reverse this curse is to bury all the money and mark where it is so nobody steps on it. If anyone steps where the money is buried, they will die!’" Kennedy read, her eyes getting wider and wider.
“Yikes, creepy!" Mason said running to the back with the garbage can.
"It's like a Nancy Drew mystery! Let's try to solve it,” Abby said, almost forgetting how creepy it was.
"Maybe after we tell Mom and Dad,” Kennedy said. "Mom, Mason found this on one of the garbage cans, it's really creepy," Kennedy said five minutes later.
"Wow! that is creepy!" Mom said. She knew it wasn't a joke, at least not by her kids by the serious looks on their faces.
"What should we do about it?" Abby asked, “Can we solve the mystery?”
Mom thought for a minute. “Curses aren't real, so either someone who is superstitious left it to be nice, or some kid left it as a prank, either way, how did they know about the money or our address?" Mom asked, more to herself than the girls.
"Maybe it was a criminal, bad things did happen where we left the money. Maybe someone is spying on us and making those things happen!” Abby exclaimed.
"I'll talk to Dad when he gets home from work and we'll try to figure out what to do," Mom said.
“So, about that note,” Kennedy said, jumping into Abby’s bed that night.
“So weird,” Abby said. “If it is a criminal, we need to catch him, let’s find suspects.” The girls thought for a moment.
“How do we do that?” Kennedy asked.
“Not a clue,” Abby said.
“Hmmmmm…” the girls thought some more. “Why would anybody want to do that?” Kennedy asked.
“Good question, maybe we should start with that,” Abby said, grabbing a notebook. She flipped to an empty page and wrote "Motives" in bold letters at the top with a green pan. After about a half hour they hadn't come up with anything and were very off subject talking about nail polish. "Night guys," Meson said, as he was walking past their bedroom.
“Night," Kennedy said, rolling her eyes.
"Wait, Mason, can you help us for a sec?" Abby asked,ignoring Kennady's eye roll.
"Sure, since Maddy won't let me sleep anyway," he said angrily "Great, so you know that note you found on the gachage can, we're trying to figure out who left it and I think I might have an idea." Abby said.
"Thanos?" Masan suggested, this produced an eye roll from both girls followed by,”Oh, ha.Ha.” and, “Really? Just stop it."
"Seriously guys, we should set a trap to catch the criminal," Abby said.
“We should use rabbit traps like in ‘Peter Rabbit,’” Mason suggested.
“That would work, if we had any of those,” Kennedy said, dripping with sarcasm.
"Or we could just call the super hero squad," Maren went on.
"You're hilarious," Kennedy said flatly. Because of all the bickering it took a long time but the kids eventually came up with a plan. “So this Friday we ask if we can sleep in the loft, Maddy can come but don't tell Benjamin about it. Once he falls asleep Maddy and Mason come up, Abby and I will already be up there setting up. How about we don't tell Maddy until we're about to go up. She's sure to spoil it but we can trust you, right Mason? Great. Once we're all set to 'sleep' we’ll all go out and bury the money loud enough for the criminal to hear but not Mom and Dad. Then Mason and I will leave and Abby and Maddy will hide. If they see anything suspicious they'll call us on the walkie talkies, but we can’t respond because then he will hear it. They can take Abby's camera to video the whole time. Once he leaves they follow him carefully, when we get there, we search the scene for clues. If they don't see anything suspicious, they can walkie us so we can switch places, got it?” Kennedy explained with Abby and Mason interjecting with, “Yup!” “Great!” and, “Ok!” every here and there. Plans were made with Mom and Dad concerning sleeping in the loft. Friday night everything was set.
“Wait, duh we don't have to actually bury the money, we can bury fake money,"Abby said. So Maddy's pretend money was put in a jar and taken up to the loft. "Ok, we have blankets, flashlights, shovel, pillows, sleeping bags, the walkies, string, I think we're all set, oh, my camera! I almost forgot, be right back," Abby said. Maddy and Mason were awakened and the foursome crept up to the loft. Once Kennedy explained the plan to Maddy they started off into the woods. Abby and Maddy had borrowed some of Kennedy and Mason's black and camo clothes. ‘Scoop! Toss! Scoop! Toss! Scoop! Toss!’ Finally a decently sized hole was dug and the "money" was placed in it. Kennedy thoroughly filled the hole while the others wrapped bright yellow string between some of the surrounding trees. Kennedy and Mason departed with one of the walkie talkies. Maddy and Abby were left alone sitting on the roots of the biggest tree in the woods. "This is no way to hide!" Abby whisper yelled, so they sprawled on their stomachs so only their heads could be seen from the buried money. Abby was worried which way the criminal would come from, though. It got later and later and Maddy started to fall asleep. Abby was also getting tired. Abby sent two beeps on the walkie talkie, their signal for a shift change. Soon Mason and Kennedy arrived, for once too nervous and excited to argue. Abby and Maddy left. “Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp."
Mason checked his watch, "1:07! Yikes!" he cried.
"Shhhh! We have to be quiet!”
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.”
"Shouldn't they be gone by now?" It was nearing 1:30.
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” The noise was getting louder, “Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp!”
“Mason, the camera!”
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” Kennedy sent one beep on the walkie talkie.
“That means they see him! Maddy! Wake up! We need to go right now!” Abby commanded frantically. Maddy drowsily opened her eyes. As soon as she saw where she was and her sister climbing down the ladder, she was fully alert.
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp!”
"Hurry! we need to get to the other side of the tree so he doesn't see us!” Kennedy whispered. “Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” By now the noise was coming from two directions, their house and the opposite direction.
“I hope that's Abby and Maddy,” Mason said.
"Shhhhh!"
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, thump!” The footsteps stopped and something heavy nearly landed on Mason's head. Kennedy instinctively put her hand over Mason's mouth to keep his yelp down.
"Shovels, everything's going perfectly," Kennedy's voice was so low Mason could barely hear her but his tongue seemed to have frozen so he stayed silent.
"Looks like them good for nothin' kids listened to our lil tip," a man who looked little more than a boy drawled. Kennedy clenched her fists. “Get to work, Rudy! I didn't hire you as a comrade!” a rudely dignified voice snapped.
“Yees boss,” Rudy said miserably. Just then a softer rustling sounded directly behind Kennedy and Mason. Noiselessly, Abby handed two papers and a pen to Kennedy. One paper read, "Sorry we took so long, what's going on?" It was a good thing Kennedy's eyes adjusted to the dark a long time ago.
“That teenager's name is Rudy. It sounds like he works for that other man, who seems to be too stingy for money-digging. They've only been here about two minutes," Kennedy scribbled on the other paper. “Click!” That unfortunately satisfying clicky pen was what gave them away.
"Um, boss, deed ya’ll hear dat?” Rudy asked.
“I certainly did," the other man said. He was walking towards the kids. Closer, closer.
"Mason, give me the camera. I have a plan,” Kennedy whispered. Closer, closer, closer, flash! “Run!" Kennedy yelled, and run they did, as fast as their legs could carry them.
"Geed em’!” Rudy cried.
“Not so fast, they’re just worthless children,” the boss said.
“Wait!” Maddy called. She was far behind the rest of her siblings.
“Maddy, this isn't a game, listen to me, we are running for our lives, hurry up, I'll hold your hand," Abby said as she rushed back to her sister. They didn't stop running until they sat gasping for breath at the foot of their parents' bed.
“What the heck is going on?" Dad asked groggily.
"Is everything ok?" Mom asked. So the story was told. Let’s just say that Mom and Dad were not pleased, especially considering it was past 3:00 AM and they had been sound asleep. The fear combined with the lecture set all four of them crying. The noise woke Benjamin up and he cried out of confusion and because his brother and sisters’ vacant beds scared him. Gracie also wake up and was not pleased. So most of the Rater family was crying loudly at 3:00AM. Mom got to work making Gracie a bottle and hugging Benjamin to stop his crying. Dad had to step outside for a moment to calm his temper. Once he came back in he calmly explained to his 4 oldest kids why what they did was wrong.
"I'm proud of you though, that stakeout was a brave thing to do,” Dad said.
"Thanks,” Mason said.
“Yeah, and it was scary," Maddy agreed. The older girls just hugged their Dad. The other kids joined in and almost squashed him.
"We'll call the police and let them deal with those guys, ok, they won't get away with scaring our kids," Dad said.
"The pictures!” Mason cried.
"You're right," Abby said, picking up the camera that had fallen on the floor. "Blurry, blurry, only shows the ground, this one might be good, it shows them and in the background I can see the hole and the shovels. Oooo, here’s a shot of their faces!" Abby cried triumphantly.
“Let me see that. Wow, great job guys," Dad said.
"Ha! that guy even looks evil!" Masen laughed.
"Haha, he's like your classic cartoon bad guy, " Abby laughed.
“That is what he looks like!" Dad laughed.
"Oh, he does, "Mom laughed. Soon the whole family was laughing so hard they could barely breathe. The following day prints were made of the photos and they were delivered to the police along with the note. Once the whole story was explained to the police, they said they would start work on it right away as they were already on the robbery and the fire.
A week later Mom got a call saying the police found the men. "We just need kids to confirm one and we'll send him off to jail, the other was already convicted of several robberies,” the man on the phone said.
"Ok," Mam said, “Be there around 4:30." The kids confirmed both the suspects. It was found that Rudy Arnold had been at Harborcreek Youth Services. The other man, Miles Terry, had hired Rudy to do his dirty work by falsely promising to give him a share of the money. Mr. Jerry had been Henry Billoward’s best friend since childhood and he was angry that these relatives that Henry hadn't even known got more money than he did. Being a vengeful man with a bad temper, he had kept tabs on the family and their money and caused a disaster wherever the money went. His next step would have been to do something to their home if the note didn't work.
To celebrate they went to Menchie's for ice cream. "Mason! Save some m&ms for other people! Ug! You are so annoying!" Yup, criminals caught, things were back to normal for the Rater family.
Megan walked home from school one day in a deep gloom. ‘So what if I would rather work hard to get my own money then steal it from other people, that doesn't mean Ellie has to hate me,’ she thought as she kicked a pebble into the middle of the road. Being dumped by her best friend was bad enough but Megan had more problems than that. She knew that upon arriving home she would not receive a gentle hug and, "What's wrong, sweetie?" from a loving Mother but instead a, "Get out of my way you my big klutz," from her Aunt who didn't have the decency to even tell Megan how her parents died. It had always been that way as long as Megan could remember and it seemed like it always would. Megan was trying to sort out all the problems in her brain when she tripped over a crack and twisted her ankle. “Ow!" Megan tried to stand up but she fell. ‘This is just what I need right now,' she thought. Luckily she saw one of her Aunt's friends coming out of a store across the street. "Mrs. Vanderwick! Help!" The crowded city street was too loud for Megan to be heard. She began to crawl across the street to her Aunt's friend in her panic when she saw a truck driving straight towards her! The driver did not see Megan, who was too scared to move. She just stared at the truck and then fainted.
Megan suddenly sat up and looked around. She was sitting on the ground next to a stack of hay bales that was taller than she is. As Megan took in her surroundings she thought it looked like something out of her favorite book, Little House on the Prairie. Suddenly Megan saw a girl with brown braids come flying out of a nearby log cabin. A taller girl with blonde curls followed at a much more ladylike pace. Her blue dress was the exact same shade as the midsummer sky, which was not tainted by city smoke and smog. Before Megan could gather her wits the blond girl spotted her. "Laura look! There is a girl by our hay pile, she looks sad and confused. Let's see what's wrong!”
Laura rolled her eyes. "But Pa said I could help him chop wood if I finished my chores on time. She is probably just taking a walk from one of the other homesteads," she said.
“You get the water then, I want to meet this girl," the blonde girl said. So Laura walked off and the blonde girl walked over to Megan. “Hello, my name is Mary, are you alright?” she asked.
“Everything is wrong!" Megan cried, “Of course I'm not alright!"
Mary was startled but didn't show it. "Tell me what happened," she said kindly.
"Do you promise not to tell anybody?" Megan asked.
"Cross my heart." Mary said. Something made Megan pour out her entire story to Mary. Mary was a good listener and she helped Megan to get her thoughts straight.
“Wait a minute, you're Mary and your sister is Laura... Do you by chance have a sister named Carrie?" Megan asked in an excited voice.
“Ye-e-esss,” Mary said slowly, wondering how Megan knew this.
“Is your last name Ingalls?" Megan asked, her voice getting high with excitement.
"Ye-e-e-essss," Mary said nervously.
“Oh my gosh you are my favorite character in my favorite book series and your sister Laura is my favorite author!" Megan exclaimed.
"What are you talking, about!?" Mary asked, thinking Megan was insane. So Megan told Mary about the famous Series. "How do I know you're not making this up?" Mary asked.
“Um." Megan had read the books 100 times each, there had to be some proof that they were real. “Your Ma's name is Caroline Quinner and before she married your Pa she was a school teacher. That is what you want to be too when you grow up," Megan said.
Mary just stared at her and then slowly nodded. "Ok, I believe you," she said.
"Good because I need to tell you that γου are going to…”
Mary interrupted Megan before she could finish. "Please don't tell me!" Mary pleaded, "I want to accept troubles and learn from them as they come the way God designed it instead of trying to prevent what he makes happen."
"So you're saying we should just let bad things happen when we could stop them?” Megan asked.
"Sometimes," Mary said, “If God wants something to happen He will make it happen even if we try to stop it, and even if it seems bad at the time I know that whatever happens to me, it will work out for good because I love Him.” Megan was shocked at how much trust Mary had in God. She seemed very happy and content.
“Does that mean being parentless and having my best friend dump me can be a good thing?” Megan finally asked.
Mary nodded. “That Ellen girl does not seem like a very good friend, since you're already here and don't seem to have a way to get home, could I be your new best friend?" she asked.
In response Megan gave Mary a big hug. "But where do I stay, your cabin is already crowded, maybe I could stay in the barn?" Megan asked.
"I have a better idea," said Laura who had been eavesdropping for a good 10 minutes.
"Laura Ingalls!" Mary scolded.
"Sorry but listen, I saw an Indian man and woman walk by our cabin early this morning. In their eyes was the type of sadness that doesn't fade even after the many years have passed. The woman held an empty baby carrier. I think their child died, maybe you could comfort them by staying with them and letting them care for you,” Laura said.
"Maybe that is why God caused you to come here,” Mary said.
"Alright,” Megan said, "Let's go but Laura, promise not to put any of this in your books.” Laura promised and they set out for the Indian camp.
Everybody thought Mildrid Patt was a kind old lady. Everyone except Detective Burlton. Mildred used to bake pies that made people fall into deep, deep sleep for 2 hours. She would give them to people and rob their houses while they slept. One time she had taken too long to get the grand piano out and Isac Burlton woke up and found out her evil plans. Mildred moved and did the same thing with socks in another town. She thought she was safe but little did she know Isac had told his detective cousin who lived in the very same town. He had been suspicious of her for quite some time but his spying provided no evidence. Mildred always knit socks and gave them to people after any burglary. Burlton suspected that she did this so nobody would suspect her of the robbery. He had no idea how bad it was. He had often seen her go into a spare room that was accessed through a passage behind the bookshelf. When he first saw this he was very excited but further spying did no good. Finally he decided the only thing left to do was go inside and investigate. All he needed was a good cover.
“Excuse me, I'm from a local sock store, we need some new socks for our line. Would you be interested in selling us some of your wonderfully knitted
socks? I hear they’re the best in town." Detective Burlton asked Mildred. He was tactfully dressed in a knitted sweater that said “Sock World” in a rainbow of colors.
"I guess I could show em to ya," Said Mildred, careful not to blow her cover.
"Very good,” the Detective said curtly.
"Well, I’ll just go get a few pairs for you to see,” Mildred said.
“Nonsense, I know how to walk, it will be much more simple if you just show me to your knitting room," the Detective insisted. Mildred refused to act suspiciously and led him to her room Detective Burlton was very surprised by what he saw. There was a tiger rug on the floor with a stuffed head. An eagle sat on a table and flew at the Detective as soon as he set foot in the room.
"Settle down Lareby,” Mildred commanded the bird. He flew back to his perch. The Detective spotted a key hole on the left side of the bookcase and quickly told Mildred that he liked what he saw and would get back to her with prices. Next the detective sent her a 50% off coupon for a bus ticket and an invitation to a knitting circle on the other side of town. When Detective Burlton was sure Mildred had left he used a special key that could pick any lock to get in and explore the secret passage. He found out that Mildred spun her own yarn in that room and kept it in the tiger head for 12 hours and that made it so whoever wore the socks would lose memory of any faces they saw within the last 5 days. The Detective told the police, who did chemical tests and arrested Mildred.
Monday: I am Ally and I am not ready for middle school. My problems all started today when I bumped into a girl named Jasmin who immediately decided to be my worst enemy. “Watch it green hair,” she said. I am not brave so instead of standing up to her I ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror. It was true, I swam in the lake so much my blond hair is tinted green. I didn't have time to wash it or do anything about it so I just put my hood up and hoped nobody else would notice. Another problem I have is my math teacher doesn't like kids. I need to fix my hair but what I really need is a friend.
Tuesday: Another bad day. I say a poster for a swim club. I was about to sign up but Jasmin and her friends came, shoved me against a locker and filled in the rest of the sheet. “It wasn't your kind of group anyway, Cabbage," she said. Now everyone calls me Cabbage.
Wednesday: You wouldn't believe what Jasmin did today. We had our first math test today and Jasmin said I was cheating on her. The grumpy math teacher sent us to the principal when I denied it. Guess what, he's grumpy too. Jasmin and I started arguing and we both got detention for today,
Jasmin seemed happy and later I found out why. She is detention queen and makes anyone in it do whatever she wants while she does nothing.
Thursday: Today I actually paid attention in some classes. I was actually happy because I made a friend. Her name is Malary and she is as short as a five-year-old. Because of that Jasmin used to tease her, But she learned to stand up to her and now she is helping me. We became friends in art class, when Jasmin was about to say something about my painting. Malary told her to leave me alone and then we got to talking and now we're friends.
Friday: Another good day! I sat with Malary at lunch and met her twin sister Melody and friends Angalina and Vicky. They invited me to a sleepover tomorrow! I finally have not ons, not two, but four new friends. And they have an art club I can join.
The weekend: What a great sleepover! We swam, we watched a movie, we had popcorn and cake, we talked, we became besties, and we had fun!!
Gail Rowey skipped happily through the door of her new house. “How was the first day of your new school?” her Mom asked. They had lived in Waterford for over a month now but they moved in late June so Gail hadn't gone to her new school until today.
“It was great!" she answered, "I made friends with the principal's daughter Lucy and she talked to him about having a charity festival for the homeless and he agreed!” Gail squealed. "There's gonna be games and snacks and races and singing! Mom, I'm doing a solo!"
“That's great Gail,” her Mom said.
“I'm going to sew shirts and Lucy is going do graffiti on them,” she went on.
"Maybe I'll sell pies," her Mom said. Two weeks later, the day of the festival, Gail was jumping around backstage looking over the song she was going to sing.
“Abigail Rowey, singing a song she wrote called ‘I Look Around,’” the announcer announced. Gail took a deep breath, straightened her purple headband, and walked on stage. Gail looked out into the crowd, then for what seemed like hours she froze. Gail tried to remember her song but she couldn't, she
was so nervous she couldn’t even walk off the stage. She looked at the crowd again, then she saw Lucy holding up a sign that said “Help the Homeless” in bold letters. She had to sing to help the homeless. Gail took a deep breath, then the whole song came flowing out. Before she knew it Gail sang the whole song and everyone was clapping wildly.
"Thank you!" Gail bowed and then said, "Any donations go in the bucket, if you have some money put it in there and help the homeless!"
When Gail got to school on Monday Lucy ran up to her immediately. "Did you hear the good news?!" she asked excitedly.
“No,” Gail replied, “What?”
They collected more than a million dollars for the homeless!" Lucy exclaimed, grabbing Gail’s hands and twirling her around. Gail smiled, now somebody else had a warm house and plenty of food to eat, and she had helped make it happen.
Ally lived on Findley lake all her life. The only thing she liked better than boating on the lake was swimming in the lake.
One day when Ally was done swimming, her ears really hurt and everything sounded weird. She had swimmers ear.
One sunny Saturday afternoon Ally walked to her friend Kathrin's house to see if she wanted to go swimming. She paused on the front step, her ears were still buzzing but she was sure she also heard their other friend Andy inside. She didn't mean to eavesdrop but she couldn't help hearing one of them say "Ally is our top suspect.”
Ally burst into the house, Kathrin and Andy screamed and jumped up on the couch. "How dare you suspect me!" Ally yelled.
"What are you talking about?” Kathrin asked.
“You said Ally is our top suspect,'' Ally said.
"Oh,” Andy said, “that wasn't us it was the TV.” That was embarrassing.
“It’s ok,” Kathrin said, “Wanna watch the grand finale of Undercover with us?"
Once upon a time there was a brave detective named Marietta. Marietta was 15 years old and probably the keenest detective in the country.
She lived in Buffalo, New York right down the street from the mall where her mom works.
One day Marieta asked her best friend Ariona if she wanted to go to the mall Saturday. “Sorry, I have to babysit Charlet," Ariana said. That was weird, Charlet loved the mall.
And so Marietta decided to go to Ariana’s to help babysit on Saturday. She would surprise her!
However, when Marieta got to Ariona’s house Ariona's Mom said that she went to the mall, and Charlet was at home. She decided to go to the mall and
try to find her.
Then she went to the mall. She checked all Ariona's favorite stores but didn't find her. It was one o'clock and Marieta decided to go to the food court for lunch. When she was just sitting down to eat Marieta heard a yell.
“Hey, give that back!" Marieta stood and saw a dark haired girl running out of the jewelry store with the clerk chasing her. Marieta hid behind a plant to get a better look while they ran by. She jumped out suddenly. "Ariona!" she gasped.
"Mary,” Ariona said.
In the end Ariona explained that she stole a necklace because she didn't have enough money to buy her mom a birthday present. They hardly had enough money to pay for their house. Marietta couldn't stay mad even though stealing was wrong. She hugged her and gave her all her allowance. Ariona never stole ever again.
Once there was a girl named Charlet. She was almost 10 years old and as rambunctious as a six year old boy. “I'm going out Mama!” she called as she flew down the stairs of their small house towards the door.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" her mother asked.
“Oh, right,” Charlet got a few crackers from the kitchen cupboard and started back towards the door.
“Something else?" her mother eyed Charlet’s bonnet on a hook by the door.
“Do I have to wear it?" she asked.
"Yes, you do," her mother said firmly.
“Fine, "Charlet said, planning on taking it off as soon as she was out of sight.
"I know what you're thinking,” her mother said.
"How can you know what I'm thinking when I haven't said it?" Charlet wanted to know.
"Mothers know, now keep the bonnet on," was the only response she could get.
“Yes Mama,” she said, running out the door.
"Ladies don't run!” Mama called after her, but Charlet was already gone. Mama sighed, she opened her sewing box and looked at the pieces of purple cloth inside it. This plan better work, if it didn't work, what would? Meanwhile, Charlet was exploring the woods behind their house. What was that glimmering in the distance? She slowly started walking towards it. Was that... a creek! Charlet ran and splashed into the glassy, clear water. After splashing around for a while, she decided to go back to the apple tree and have a snack of cracker and apple.
On her birthday Charlet woke up bright and early. She hurriedly threw on her favorite purple dress and ran downstairs to the special breakfast she only got to have once a year. She inhaled the warm smell of cinnamon pancakes and syrup. There were also apples from the tree outside, crackers, and whipped cream. For lunch she would be able to have whatever she wanted, Charlet wanted chocolate. For dinner they would have the usual pork and cheese cubes. The best thing about dinner was Charlet's best friend Anabel would be there. Charlet sat down and found a small red package at her place setting. "I thought we were going to save all my gifts for tonight," she said, delighted.
"We decided to give you one in advance,” her mother said as she sat down.
"But first let's eat this delicious breakfast while it's still hot," her father added. With that they prayed and dug into the hot breakfast. Charlet wanted to open her gift but a meal like this could not be rushed. Once they were all done eating (Charlet’s parents took longer than she did) Charlet opened her present. As she tore off the red paper, Charlet saw something purple. As she ripped off the rest of the paper, a purple bonnet and apron. "Uuuuum, thanks,” Charlet said, hanging the bonnet on a hook and putting the apron on. At least it was purple.
That night after dinner Charlet and Anabel scurried up to Charlet's room to play with her new doll (Anabel gave it to her). "I should have bought one of my dolls," Anabel said. "I'm bored."
Charlet sighed, “Me too," she said, then she brightened. "I know what we can do." Charlet led Anabel down the stairs and motioned for her to be quiet as they passed the kitchen, they grabbed their bonnets and rushed outside.
"I thought you weren't supposed to go outside after dark," Anabel said.
Charlet shrugged. “At least I'm wearing my bonnet," she said, “Besides, fall is here and it's getting dark so much earlier."
Anabel wasn't so sure. “But your mother said..."
Charlet interrupted, "I was going to wait until you could see yourself but I found a creek.”
Anabel instantly forgot about her fear, "Well what are we waiting for!"
"This is amazing! Want to explore further that way?" Anabel asked, pointing downstream.
"Sure!" Charlet said. The woods were beautiful at night with the trees silhouetted in the moonlight. The creek sparkled like a black pearl under the stars. They had been splashing and giggling for a while when Anabel saw something.
“Is that a CAVE?" she exclaimed.
"I hope so," Charlet said, running towards it. "It IS a cave," she said, pulling Anabel in.
"We shouldn't go in there," Anabel said, worried, "What if a raccoon lives there?"
Charlet rolled her eyes. “Racoons are nocturnal, so they're probably out getting dinner."
"What if they come back to eat it, and have us on the side!" Anabel exaggerated.
“You’re such a scaredy cat,” Charlet mumbled. Anabel would NOT be called a scardy cat.
"I found this cave so I'm going to be the first to go in it," with that Anabel squared her shoulders and marched in.
"What can I say, I know my friend," Charlet said as she followed her friend into the cave.
“Did you hear that?" Anabel asked. They were pretty far in the cave and she was getting scared again.
"Did I hear what?" Charlet asked.
"It sounded like a bat," Anabel said with a shaky voice.
"Did you say b-b-bats," if Charlet was scared of one thing it was bats. She shook it off. "It was probably just your imagination," she said. Both girls were silent for a minute, listening. Suddenly, Charlet screamed! A bunch of rocks fell, blocking the entrance to the cave.
"What is so terrible that you trapped us in here?” Anabel asked in a loud whisper.
"Something brushed against my back," Charlet told her.
“Do you think it was..." Anabel started.
“Bat!!" Charlet interrupted.
“I can finish my own question," Anabel said.
"No, there’s a bat flying over you!" Charlet yelled.
Now it was Anabel’s turn to scream. "We have to get out of here!” she was on the verge of tears.
"How?" Charlet asked.
"We have to stay calm!" Anabel didn't sound very calm.
"Ok stop screaming," Charlet was screaming herself.
Anabel took a deep breath. “Ok, there has to be some way out of here, we just need to find it," she said.
"Ok,” Charlet said, “There's a crack of light over there, maybe we can widen it and get out." Anabel looked at the crack and tried to think where it would be on the outside. “We can dig with rocks," she said.
"Great idea!" Charlet said, looking for a sharp stone.
Anabel leaned back and sighed, "It feels like we have been digging for hours and all I've done is ruin my best dress." Charlet couldn't deny that it had been hours but she could deny that they weren't getting anywhere.
"We did get somewhere," she said. “Now I can stick my hands through the hole and wiggle them a little bit."
Anabel shrugged and then started singing. "I got a God who loves me, who watches over me-e. I got a God who loves me. He's every-thi-ing I ne-ed." Charlet joined in on the second verse. “I got a God who loves me with deep unfailing love. I got a God who loves me. He watches fro-om abo-ove.”
"God will give us strength to get out of here," Charlet whispered. Anabel nodded and they kept singing and digging.
"Charlet! Anabel! Is that you?" came a voice from outside the cave.
“Papa?” Charlet was almost scared to believe it was him.
"How did you girls get stuck in there?" he asked.
“Long story,” Anabel said.
"We’ll explain later,” added Charlet.
"Help! There are bats!" Anabel cried. Papa took his pipe and helped them move away the rocks until there was a hole big enough for the girls to fit through.
"Papa!" Charlet threw herself into his arms. After hugging his daughter and making sure she was ok, Papa became stern again.
“You two are in big trouble for sneaking out," he said.
"We're sorry Mr. Yearlington, we won't do it again,” Anabel assured him.
“I know you won't, now let's go home," Papa said, taking their hands.
"Do you know how I found these girls?" Papa asked Mama.
"Dear me, how?" Mama was quite startled by the earning's events.
"I heard them singing, ‘I got a God who loves me,’" he told her.
"I stitched those exact words on Charlet’s bonnet strap,” Mama said.
"It must have reminded us even though we didn't know," Anabel said.
"This sure is one special bonnet,” Charlet agreed.
“Not as special as God's love," Mama reminded them.
One Summer day Stefany sat on her back deck reading. Chapter 7, Stefeny closed her book and sighed, she looked longingly at her swimming pool, the water looked so cool and refreshing but she had no one to play with and she did not like playing by herself. The reason that she didn't have anyone to play with was because her fourteen year old brother Eric was always busy building something, her sixteen year old sister Shalines who she usually did stuff with was at the Olympic Trials, her Dad was at work, and her mom was inside cleaning. Stefany had nothing to do!
"Stefeny honey I'm going to weed the garden, want to help?” she heard her Mom call. She immediately dropped her book and went to help.
A little later her best friend Katie came over and asked if Stefeny wanted to play softball at her house which was just down the road. "Sure can I Mom?" Stefeny asked.
“Sure honey, just make sure to be home by 3,” said her Mom. So Stefeny and Katie ran to Katie's house, but when they got there there were a bunch of other people there. ‘Oh well,’ she thought, ‘At least Katie’s here.’
After Katie taught Stefeny how to play and everyone was finally playing, Stefany remembered that she forgot to put the bookmark in her book. ‘What chapter was I on 5,8, no 7,’ she thought. Just then she got clobbered by a softball. Stefeny fell down. Everyone was quiet for a moment, then seeing she was not hurt they all started laughing. She got up and ran home. ‘So much for doing something besides reading,’ she thought.
"Stefeny wait!” Katie yelled. Once she finally caught up to her Katie asked, “What's wrong, why don't you want to play?”
Stefeny took a deep breath. “I've just been having a hard time since Shaline left," she said.
“That’s ok you don't have to play if you don't want to,” Katie said.
"Thanks,” Stefeny said.
Later when she was on the phone with Shaline, Stefeny said, "All I do is read all day, it's a waste of Summer, when will you be home?"
"Well,” said Shaline, "If I don't get in then next week..."
"Yay!" Stefeny said, “You're coming ho-ome! You’re coming ho-ome!” she chanted.
"Or," Shaline interrupted, "If I do get in I'll be home by fall.”
“Fall,” Stefeny repeated, “That's so far away, you're sure to get in, I'll waste the whole Summer!"
“Stefeny calm down, we don't know that I'll get in and if I do I'll still come home for a week in between the trials and the Olympics, just remember that God's in control," Shaline said.
"Okay," Stefeny said. But she was still worried.
The next day Stefeny, Eric, and their parents were all huddled on the couch watching the Olympic Trials. Eric and Stefeny's parents all got up and started dancing when they heard Shaline’s name on TV but Stefeny couldn't join them. She would be bored until October.
Stefeny's Mom came into her room and sat on the bed. "What's wrong honey?" she asked, even though she was sure she already knew.
“Nothing," Stefeny lied.
“Come on we both know that's a lie," her Mom said.
"Why does Shaline have to go?” Stefeny asked, "I know I should be happy for her but I'll miss her so much.” Stefeny started to cry.
Her mom stroked her hair. "We'll all miss her,” she said, pulling Stefeny into a hug, “But she'll come back."
Stefeny looked up at her Mom. “What will I do until then?" Stefeny asked.
"You could see what Eric's always doing in that shed,” her Mom suggested. Stefeny shrugged. "Just remember,” her Mom said, "God's in control.” Stefeny told her Mom that was what Shaline said. "That's because it's true," her Mom told her.
The next day Stefeny took her Mom's advice and decided to go see what Eric was building. "What are you making?” she asked.
"Card table,” Eric said without looking up.
"What do you need a card table for?" Stefeny asked, trying to see what it looked like over his shoulder.
“Nothing,” Eric lied.
“Then why are you making it?" Stefeny pressed.
"Just because ok!" Eric turned to her with a very mad expression on his face. Tears started brimming in Stefeny's eyes. “Yeesh girls are sensitive,” Eric mumbled. “Tell you what," he said, “Why don't I teach you how to play baseball?"
A smile lit Stefeny’s whole face. “Guess being over sensitive can be a good thing!" she said as she ran out of the shed with Eric.
"Ok Stef, do you want to be the batter or the catcher?" Eric asked after he explained the rules.
Stefeny thought for a minute, "Batter,” she said, "I'm not good at catching."
"OK," Eric said, "But you're going to regret that.” Eric was right; Stefeny was terrible at batting. Every time she threw the ball up to bat it, it fell before she even had a chance. "Why don't you try catching instead,” Eric suggested.
Stefeny shrugged, "Ok," she said. Stefeny proved to be just as bad at catching as she was at batting. She sank down on the grass in disappointment. Eric sat next to her, "What's wrong?" he asked. "The Stefeny I know wouldn't get this upset over a 'silly sport.’"
Stefeny sighed. "It's not about the sport, it's about Shalene."
Eric got up. "Oh no," he said.
"What is it?” Stefeny asked, getting up too.
“Is this going to be another of your sappy feeling talks?" Eric asked.
“How sappy do you think advice is?" Stefeny asked.
"Depends on what the advice is,” was Eric's answer.
Stefeny wasn't sure what he meant but he wasn't running away yet so she just poured it all out. "I'm worried I will waste the whole summer because Shaline will be away, I thought maybe baseball could keep me busy but I'm terrible at it," Stefeny paused. "What do I do?" she asked.
Eric thought a minute. "3 things," he said, "1, trust God, 2, keep looking, 3, not sports.”
"Why not sports?" Stefeny wanted to know.
“Well,” Eric said, "It sounds to me like you need something you can play by yourself." Stefeny nodded and Eric continued. "Most sports need more than one person,” he told her. She thought about this for a moment then jumped up and hugged him.
“Thank you,” Stefeny said.
“Any time, sis," Eric said.
Stefeny did keep trying, she tried hopscotch (boring), jump roping (too hard), and ballet (not easy to do outside). One day when she was about to give up Stefeny saw someone. He was in the yard two houses down throwing an orange ball in a hoop. Stefeny didn't immediately realize what he was doing, she just realized he was doing it alone. She ran to get Eric. “What's he doing?” she asked.
“Basketball," he told her.
“And you can do it alone?" Stefeny was almost scared of the answer.
“It works better with more people but you can practice shooting hoops yourself,” Eric said.
Stefeny was inside in an instant. "Dad, can we get a basketball hoop?" she asked.
“Sure honey," her Dad said. “But if you don't mind my asking, why do you want one?" her Dad asked. Stefeny told him the whole story. When she was finished, her Dad just stared at her.
"What?" Stefeny asked, “You didn't think we wouldn't go to Paris to support your sister did you?" her Dad asked.
"Wait, what!" Stefeny couldn't believe her ears. "You mean we're going to Paris! I won't waste the Summer!" Stefeny paused. “Can I still get a basketball hoop?"
Her Dad laughed. “Yes, you can still get a basketball hoop.”
Eric knocked on the door. "Can I borrow Stef?" he asked poking his head in. "What is it?" Stefeny asked when they were outside.
"I got something for you,” Eric said, leading her into the shed. When she saw what was in there Stefeny gasped. In front of her was a beautiful pink desk with intricately curved legs and a cushioned stool to go with it.
"When did you do this?" Stefeny asked in awe.
"When you thought I was making a card table," he said with a sly smile.
"Why?" Stefeny asked.
"I wanted to give you something and a desk was the first thing that came to my mind,” Eric explained. "You're always reading, you'll be out of books soon so I thought maybe you could write your own stories. I also got you a journal to complain to," he added.
“Thank you," Steffeny said, hugging him. Now she had plenty to do!
"Are they here yet?" Trixie Vanpel asked in for the 5th time that morning.
"I'm sure they will be here soon,” her mom responded, “Africa is a long way away you know."
“I wish I could have gone with them," Trixie pouted.
“Eleven years old is too young to go to Africa to study animals," her mom said.
"But I'll be twelve next month," Trixie protested. Last year right after Trixie turned eleven her sister Colista and brother Mike left for Africa to study animals. For the past eleven months Trixie had spent most of her time missing them. Now, they were visiting home for one whole month before their next mission. “Mike was twelve when he left,” Trixie pointed out.
"Twelve and a half," her mom corrected, “Besides I can't have all my children in some distant country.”
“He was as mature as an eight-year-old,” Trixie said under her breath.
"Quit moping and go say hello to your siblings.”
"They're here?!!!!” Trixie was out the door in an instant.
"Trixie!!!" Colista jumped out of the car and scooped her sister up in a big bear hug. “I've missed you so much!" she said.
"Not as much as I've missed you!" Trixie countered.
"Fine,” Colista said, pretending to be upset, “We're even-- in height too, you must have grown 3 inches since I left.”
Trixie tried to stand a little taller. "I am almost 12,” she said. “Isn't that old enough to go with you on your next mission?”
Colista laughed. “We'll have to talk to Mom and Dad about that."
Trixie sighed. "I already did, they said no."
"Well maybe I can..." Colista started.
"He-e-e-l-l-o-w, "Mike interrupted, "What about me?"
"Oh, right,” Trixie said, pretending she forgot. Just then their parents burst out the door.
"My babies!" their Mom said while hugging Colista.
"Hey there son!” their Dad said. Everybody was all smiles having a wonderful reunion.
That night after dinner they were all sitting on the couch talking about what happened while Colista and Mike were away. “I had my birthday party last Saturday," Trixie said, “I wanted to wait for you guys but Dad said we can go to Porky’s for my birthday dinner tomorrow.”
Mike jumped up. "That reminds me," he said, “We should probably wait ‘til tomorrow but I can't wait to give you your gift.”
Colista handed her an envelope. Trixie eagerly tore it open and read the inside of the card, it said: Dear Trix, Happy Birthday!! Boy do we have a surprise for you. You're going to spend a month in Antarctica with us! Chill out, Mom and Dad said it's OK. We'll work out the details later, for now, start packing! With love Colista and Mike." As she read, a broad smile spread across Trixie's face.
Colista smiled as the plane landed and Trixie clutched her hand so hard her knuckles were white. Colista remembered her first day in Africa. She had been just as excited as Trixie is now. "Are you ok?" she asked. Trixie wiggled in her seat. "Ye-e-es!' she said.
"So this is where we're staying,” Colista said, a little disgusted.
"Guess so,” Mike said, tossing his suitcase on one of the beds.
"Looks cozy," Trixie said, choosing the bottom bunk. It certainly was cozy, it was a small one room cabin with a fireplace at each end. There was a set of bunk beds on one side of the far fireplace and a third bed on the other side.
The next day they were getting ready to explore outside the cabin. “Trixie, did you pack your camera?" Mike asked.
"Yea, I'll bring it," she said, "Why are you bringing cans of beans?"
Colista answered for Mike. "Because your brother is scared of starving in just half an hour.” "Nu-u-u," Mike said. "You never know what could happen, we could get lost out there and starve to death.”
Trixie looked scared. "So is it safe to go out?" she asked.
“Sure," Mike said, “It's just better to be safe than sorry."
“I'm freezing, can we go back now?" Colista asked.
"I didn't want to complain but I'm pretty cold too," Mike said.
"Just a little longer,” Trixie begged. “I don't get to have adventures every day like you do.”
Mike looked up at the sky. "Ok but not too long," he said, “It's starting to snow."
"Hurray!" Trixie began running, "Let's make a snowman and snow angels!"
Colista and Mike looked at each other and shrugged then joined Trixie.
"Ok, we should really head back now,” Mike said.
"Fine!" Trixie said, "Let's go."
Colista looked around. "Go where?" she asked.
"Back to the cabin of course," Mike said.
"No, I mean which way is the cabin?" Colista asked.
"It's that way,” Trixie and Mark said at the same time. They were pointing opposite directions. “Don't panic,” Colista ordered.
"How do I not panic?" Trixie asked, “We're going to die out here!"
"We are not going to die,” Mike said, "Although we would have a higher chance of living if you hadn't insisted that we stay and build a snowman."
Trixie gasped, "I just wanted to have an adventure!”
"Well here you go!" Mike said, "Thanks to you we can spend our last days having one!"
"I thought you said we wouldn't die!" Trixie retorted.
"Well…” Mike started, but before he could finish Trixie interrupted.
“And don't blame it all on me, Colista was supposed to keep track of where we are."
Before Mike could answer, Colista spoke up, “Stop fighting,” she said, “It's getting late and we'll only survive out here if we work together."
"How are we going to keep warm?” Trixie asked.
“We use our resources," Mike said.
“The only resource out here is snow and rocks,” Trixie said looking around.
"I got it,'' Colista said, "We can build an igloo like the Indians did."
"That could work,” Mike said, "And I brought some sticks to start a fire."
Trixie stared at him. "How will we start it, or keep it burning?"
Colista pated her pocket. "I have matches," she said.
"The wood is pretty wet,” Mike said. “It should last the night, all we need is something to light that can spread to it."
"I brought my sketchbook," Trixie said.
An hour later Colista, Mike, and Trixie were sitting in a small igloo around a fire, roasting beans on a flat rock. "How are we going to get home?'' Trixie asked.
Colista put an arm around her. “We don't know yet,'' she said, “But God does, and He will protect us and lead us home if he wants us there.”
"What if He doesn't want us there?" Trixie asked.
"God wants us were He wants us," Mike said, "The Bible says 'God will work out all things for the good of those who love Him.’"
“And we love Him," Colista added, "All we can do now is pray." So they did. They prayed for God's will to be done and for Him to lead them home safely.
The next morning when Trixie woke up she felt like a magnet was pulling her east. So as soon as they were done eating breakfast they set off that way. About an hour later when they were about to turn back Colista saw something. "Didn't we walk along a lake for a while yesterday?" she asked.
“You're right," Mike said, "We walked Southwest from the cabin and then started following the lake."
"How do we know where to branch off?" Colista asked.
"I got it!" exclaimed Trixie, who had been looking at pictures on her camera.
“Got what?" Colista and Mike asked at the same time.
"The route, we branched off at this big boulder, see,” Trixie showed them the picture on her camera. So they followed the lake until they got to a big boulder then they went Northeast. When they saw the little cabin they all broke into a run shouting, "He saved us! God wanted us to get home!"
Grace was a sloppy tomboy. She took a bath every two months. She was 16 years old. Her sister Rachle loved all things nature and animals, she was 17 years old. Their friend Emily was very rich and very fancy. Her least favorite things were dirt, chipped nail polish, and messy hair. She was 16 years old.
One day in mid-November Rachel and Grace burst through the door to Emily's house. "Great news!” Rachle exclaimed.
"Woa!" Emily said, “You are NOT coming in my house with those muddy boots on.”
"Sorry,” Grace said, taking her shoes off.
“It's ok,” Emily said, “What's the news?"
"We get to go on a week-long camping trip," she exclaimed.
“A week in the wilderness!" Rachle said, "Isn't it exciting?”
“Yeah, exciting,” Emily said with no enthuseasum.
“It'll be great!” Rachle exclaimed, ignoring Emily.
"We leave next week so you should get to packing," Grace said.
"Great," Emily said. The tone in her voice said she did not think it was too great.
"Party pooper,” Rachle mocked.
“See you in the woods," Grace called as she left without her shoes.
"Um, Grace," Emily reminded her.
"Oh, right," Grace put her shoes on and left.
1 Week Later
“Emily was supposed to be here 2 hours ago, where could she be?" Grace asked.
"You know her,” Rachle said, "She probably couldn't decide which shoes to bring.” Just then the doorbell rang and Emily hobbled in lugging 7 suitcases.
"Oo!" what's in there?" Grace asked, opening one and rummaging through the fancy clothes.
"Why do you need so many clothes?" Rachel asked.
“Never know when you slobs might stain it," Emily said.
“Never,” Grace said, setting down a pair of now stained capris.
“What's in the rest of the suitcases?" Rachle wanted to know.
"That one has more clothes, the rest have parts of my bed, hair products, makeup, and electronics,” Emily told them.
“Wow!” Grace said.
"A bed? for camping?" Rachle was bewildered.
“What am I supposed to sleep on? The ground?" Emily asked. Grace rolled her eyes.
"Ok let's go," Rachle said, walking out the door.
5 hours later
"Rachle, do you know where we are going?" Grace asked.
"Absolutely, the campsite,” Rachle said.
“She has no idea how to get there," Grace whispered to Emily.
“Tell me I don't have to stress about this, I can not get a pimple,” Emily said.
"Oh forget about your face,” Rachle said. "We’re lost."
10 minutes later
"Rachle, did it ever occur to you that wandering around here is just getting us more lost?” Grace asked.
"We've passed that same tree at least 6 times," Emily said boredly.
“There are other trees," Rachle said, "But you're probably right, let's set up camp here." Rachle and Grace set up the tent.
5 minutes later
"That's it?" Emily asked, looking at the small tent that was just big enough for three sleeping bags. "How will my bed fit in there?" she asked.
"It won't," Rachle said.
"I guess I'll just have to sleep outside,” Emily said, looking at the sky to see if it would rain.
“Ooo!” Grace got in the big fluffy bed.
"Aaa! get out of my bed!” Emily screamed.
Grace got out and revealed that she had left a big dirty smudge on the neat white sheets.
"Never mind you can have it." Grace shrugged and flopped down. Emily growled. Rachle laughed.
“Well now your choices are cold ground or Grace's sleeping bag.” Emily would rather sleep on a bed of nails than in Grace's sleeping bag.
“Cold hard ground it is,” she said.
9 hours later
Grace’s hand fell to the ground and she woke up with a start. The ground was was covered
in snow. The bed was covered in snow, but the only cold parts of Grace's body were her face and her hand. The blankets were very thick. She wanted to get out of bed and surprise Rachle and Emily with a pre-breakfast snowball fight but when Grace tried to push the covers away they wouldn't move. They were tucked in too tight and the top two layers were frozen solid. You would think that Grace could just fall back asleep but she was on the basketball team and had to get up at 5:30am every morning. Thankfully, Rachle was also an early bird, getting up at 6:30am to watch the sunrise. "How did YOU wake up so early?" Rachle asked, coming from behind the tent.
“I will have you know that I get up at 5:30 every single morning, basketball or not," Grace sounded offended.
“It's 7:00, why are you still in bed?" Rachle asked. "This bed is really comfy so I slept late... and I'm a little stuck," Grace said. Rachle rolled her eyes and tried to untuck the covers. They were too frozen to untuck.
“How did it get like this anyway?" Rachle asked, “You never tuck your covers in." That was the first time Grace ever thought of how it happened.
"I don't know,” she said. Rachle tried again to untuck the covers but they would not come.
“I can't get you out," she said.
Grace screamed, "I have to go to the bathroom and it's so hot under here that I feel like I sweated off at least 6 pounds.” Emily slowly stepped out of the tent, groggily rubbing her eyes.
"What's all that noise? I'm trying to sleep,” she asked.
"Long story," Rachle said.
"Somehow my sheets and blankets got tucked in and frozen down,” Grace told her.
"I can't get her out,” Rachle added.
"Oh, I, uh, wonder how that happened,” Emily said as she backed into the tent.
"What do you know?" Rachle asked Emily, who was acting awfully suspicious.
"I tucked the sheets in during the night because I was mad at her for stealing my bed,” Emily burst.
“Seriously?" Grace said.
"Well I didn't know it would snow!" Emily yelled.
"Well you knew I hate my covers tucked in!” Grace shot back.
“I’ve told you a thousand times not to touch my stuff!" Emily screamed. Rachle was, as usual, the peacemaker.
"Calm down, Grace shouldn't have stolen the bed and Emily shouldn't have tucked her in. Can you get over it?” Rachle said.
"Alright, alright, alright," Grace said.
“Fine,” said Emily.
"So any ideas on how to get me out?" Grace asked. Rachle looked around the campsite.
“I guess we could start a fire and use it to melt the ice,” she said.
"I'm already sweating to death now, do you want me to burn to death?” Grace would not have it.
"Or we could use my heating pad and not kill our friend,” Emily said.
"You have a heating pad?" Rachle asked.
"I happen to have very sensitive feet," Emily stated.
"Who cares!" Grace yelled.
"Well we need electricity, "Rachle pointed out. Emily thought about that. “If we had a battery that might work."
Grace had a solution, "I have a battery powered video game,” she said. "It might work if we could wire it right."
Rachle said that she knew a little wiring from Save the Earth Camp. So they wired it up and Grace was free and she learned not to touch Emily's stuff. Emily learned to control her vengeance and Rachel learned that her best friends were total wackadoos. They managed to enjoy the rest of their trip and stayed best friends forever and ever.
One day Tiffany was talking to her friends at school. “Have you started your history report?" Maranda asked Tiffany.
“No,” Tiffany said, “I tried researching it but it’s just so boring and hard.”
“Too bad you aren't as good at history as you are at math and science,” Andy said.
“Yeah,” Tiffany said, just then the bell rang, “Gotta get to class,” Tiffany said. Andy and Maranda headed to their regular 6th grade class room and Tiffany went to the 9th grade classroom, she was 3 grades ahead in science and math.
When she got home Tiffany's mom asked Tiffany about her day. "Science was great," Tiffany said. "We learned about robots, and on Friday we are going to make some.”
"That's lovely honey," her mom said.
“But I also have a dumb history report due next Monday,” Tiffany continued.
"Well, her mom said, "Why don't you make a history robot.” Tiffany smiled, her mom was just joking but, maybe it would work.
After dinner Tiffany got right to work on her robot. But it did not go well. Tiffany may for may not have kinda sort of maybe just a little bit caught the garage on fire. "Mom!” she yelled. Once the fire was out Tiffany was pretty upset about her science project.
The next day when Tiffany got home she stared at her robot. She should have waited to build her robot at school, but that would give her only two days instead of seven. Tiffany decided to just push a button and see what happened. She pushed it and the room started spinning. When the room finally stopped spinning, Tiffany did not know where she was. She looked around, she was sitting on dry grass, there were woods behind her, and teepees in front of her and a girl on a horse coming right towards her. Tiffany screamed and jumped out of the way. The girl stopped and got off of the horse. She had black hair in two long braids, she had dark skin and a brown dress, she had a purple belt, purple hair ties, and a purple flower necklace. She had moccasins. The girl said something, then seeing Tiffany's blank stare she said in sign language "My name is Calfury."
Tiffany said, “My name is Tiffany" while doing it in sign language. (Any time they say something they always do it in sign language). “Where am I?'' Calfury told her that she was in a Siox tribe. “How do I get back to New York?" Tiffany asked.
“What is New York?” Calfury asked. Tiffany stared at her. Who didn't know what New York was? "I'm not sure, that is... never mind," Tiffany stammered.
Calfury responded, “I know not of these strange things that you speak of, but I do know that you must stay here and rest until you can think straight.” Calfury began to lead Tiffany to the village of tents, Tiffany followed obediently, she was tired.
Tiffany woke up, it was dark but there was a campfire outside. She looked around. She was in one of the tents on a bed which she now saw was stuffed with straw. She looked down and saw that she was wearing a dress a lot like Calfury’s except less purple. The whole thing looked Native American. Tiffany gasped. She remembered her report on Native Americans, she remembered programming her robot before it caught on fire, had she time traveled or had she just teleported? ‘Native Americans do still exist today,’ she thought. Only one way to find out. Tiffany went outside and found Calfury, a girl a few years older than Tiffany, a man, and a woman. “Tiffany,” Calfury said, “This is my sister Amitola and my mama and papa.
"Hello," Tiffany said, “Do you know what day it is?"
Calfury looked confused, “Yes why?"
"I was Just wondering,” Tiffany said.
“It's January 5th, 1522," Calfury said. Tiffany stared at her. 1522! Calfury was over 500 years old! Tiffany took a deep breath. ‘Wait a minute, how will I get home?’ Tiffany wondered. "What's wrong?" Calfury asked.
“I don't know how to get home,” Tiffany said she ran back to where she was when she met Calfury. That's it, where she met Calfury! Maybe she could find something she dropped from home and use it to make something to get back.
Tiffany searched the grass but she didn't find anything. She sighed, why had she thought that would work? Tiffany looked down and saw the bracelet her 9-year-old sister Makayla made her for her 12th birthday. Tiffany sighed again, she really missed her sister and not just her, she also missed her 14-year-old sister, Ariona, and her 16-year-old brother, Carter. She studied the bracelet. The bracelet, that's it! Tiffany ran back to Calfury's camp and bonked into her halfway there. “I'm sorry, are you ok?” Tiffany said in a hurry.
"I'm ok, are you?” Calfury said.
"I'm fine,” Tiffany said, rubbing her head.
“You know I was not talking about your head, Tiffany,” Calfury said. “I meant about getting home, back to your people."
"I think I know how to get home but, could I stay with you for a few more days?" Tiffany said.
Calfury nodded, "Of course," she said, "Stay as long as you like." The next day Calfury showed Tiffany around the village. There was a lady who made dresses with fancy metal stuff. There was a man who made horse saddles and lots of other businesses. Tiffany saw Calfury pay for something with small beads. She used the beads on her necklace to buy two dresses, one she liked and one she didn't like.
That night when everyone else was asleep, Tiffany got out the dress she didn't like and got all the metal off. Then she melded it into a device to get home. She put the bracelet on top. She pressed the button and held her breath and then she was home. Tiffany looked at the robot, in a way it had done what she wanted it to do. She could have learned a lot about Native Americans but she was too busy trying to get home. Then Tiffany had an idea, she went back to 1522 and spent the whole week with Calfury. When she got home she brought the dress she bought and even had her necklace back. Calfury taught her so much about Native Americans that Tiffany got an A+++ on her report! And no time even passed at home while Tiffany was in 1522.
There were lots of hills and Mary suggested turning back many times but Carrie said no every time.
Three more hovers passed and still no flat land. “Carry, it's getting late. Ma will be worried. We should head back to the wagon,” Mary said, "Plus, I'm starving.”
"Oh come on, just a little further, I think I see a berry bush ahead!” Carrie said.
“Oh fine!" Mary said. Once they got to the berry bush, Carrie immediately started eating handfuls of berries.
“Wait!” Mary yelled.
“What is it?” Carrie said in alarm.
“I think those berries are poisonous!” Mary said urgently. Carrie was quiet for a moment and then she laughed.
“And how do you know that?” Carrie asked.
“Because,” Mary said, when Ma said we were moving, I started reading books about plants and animals, these berries look like a picture in one of the
books.
“Bookworm," Carrie muttered. “Look, I think I see a clearing up ahead!”
The two girls ran to the clearing. “It's the perfect place to build a house!” Mary exclaimed. It really was a great place for a house, there was a large flat spot perfect for a house, there was a stream nearby to get water and plenty of rocks for a fireplace, there were also lots of trees around it. “The only problem is that there is no room for a garden,” Mary said.
“I'm sure Pa will be able to level it out,” Carrie said. “Let's go,” Carrie said. “Wait,” said Mary, “How will we remember where it is?”
Carrie thought a minute and then she asked Mary, “Do you have your sewing kit?"
“Yes" Mary said, “Why?”
“May I use it?” Carrie asked. Mary handed it to her. Carrie took out the scissors and cut a piece of red fabric off her dress. Mary gasped. “What?” Carrie asked. “It's not like I don't have other dresses," Carrie said as she tied the strip around a thin tree.
"Okay," Mary sighed, “Let’s go!”
“Can we wait a moment?” Carrie said. “I'm tired and my stomach hurts.”
"It's probably the poison,” Mary said. “We need to get you to a doctor, Ma will know what to do.”
“Can't we just take a little break first?” Carrie asked.
“Oh, fine,” Mary said, so they took a rest.
Mary woke up to the noise of Carrie coughing. She looked around. She was in a clearing with trees all around her and she could hear running water, what was going on? Then she remembered the day before. “Carrie, we have to get back to the wagon, come on," Mary said. When Carrie turned to face her, Mary could tell that she was tired and not feeling well.
“Which way is the wagon?” Carrie asked.
“I think it's that way,” Mary said, pointing straight ahead.
“I thought it was that way,” Carrie said, pointing to the left.
“We will go straight and if we don't find anything then we will go the other way,” Mary said. So they went strait. "AAAAA!” Mary screamed.
“What is it?” Carrie asked.
"Snake!” Mary yelled.
"Aww, where?” Carrie asked.
"Carrie, it's poisonous!" Mary said. Both girls started running as fast as they could.
When they finally stopped running Mary saw something. “Carrie, look,” she said.
“What is it?” Carrie asked.
“This plant,” Mary said, “I think it can cure poison berry sickness.”
Carrie immediately ripped it out of the grouped and ate it. About an hour later Carrie started to feel better.
"Okay, let's go," Mary said.
“Which way?” Carrie asked.
“I'm not sure,” Mary said. And then just when they were going to pick a direction they heard something.
“Mary, Carrie, Marrry, Carrrrie!”
"Did you hear that? Mary asked.
“Yes,” Carrie said, “It sounded like…”
“PA!” they both said together.
“I've been looking everywhere for you girls, where were you?" Pa asked.
“It's a long story," Mary said.
"I thought you were sick,” Carrie said.
"I'll tell you later,” Pa said, “Right now let's get you some dinner.” Pa led the way back to the wagon, and then, there right in front of them was a brand new, beautiful house. It turns out that Pa was never sick and the place where they parked the wagon was big enough for a house. Ma had sent the girls to look for a spot so that they would be surprised. Sometime Pa would clear a path to the spot Mary and Carrie found and build a playhouse for them.