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There's Something About Peter
by Sabrina Chianese
Beth Silvers and her husband, Harry, pulled their black mini-van into the dirt driveway of their new home. The house was a rather small two-story, with a nice front porch and a patio out back. There was a fairly large amount of land for such a tiny house, and a sprawling forest behind it. Beth stepped out of the car and breathed in the fresh country air. The scent of pine tickled her nose, and she smiled cheerfully. Harry, a tough, burly man, stepped out next. He scowled angrily (he only bought the house because it was cheap), and started to unpack the van. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence. “How are you guys’ doin’?”
Beth gasped and turned around. A man with black hair and a straw hat stood there. He gave her a wide smile. “Sorry, Ma’am. Didn’t mean to scare ya. What’s your name?”
Before Beth could answer, Harry stepped up. Shoving her roughly out of the way, he said, “I’m Harry, and this is my wife, Beth-” He obviously meant to keep talking; however, the man with the straw hat interrupted him. “It’s very nice to meet you, Beth. I’m Peter Smith. I’ve lived here for a while, and I’d like to give you some advice about this place.” He walked over to her and helped her up, smiling his toothy grin the whole time. As he pulled her to her feet, her blouse sleeve slipped off her shoulder, revealing a large bruise that was about the size of a fist. Peter eyed the bruise and said, “That looks awfully painful, Beth. Where’d ya get it?” As he said this, his smile disappeared, and he noticed a look of fear pass over Beth’s face. “I-It’s nothing,” she muttered quietly. Peter shrugged. “If you say so. Come, please follow me. There’s something really important I have to tell you two.”
Peter led Beth and Harry to the back of their house, and he immediately pointed out the forest to them. When Beth first saw the forest, she thought it looked rather pretty, the perfect pines standing straight and tall; however, now that Peter was looking at them with a weird expression on his face, the forest looked – well, creepy-- menacing, even. Peter spoke, his southern drawl disappearing. “Don’t go into the woods by yourselves, unless someone who knows their way around them, such as me, is with you. Many newcomers have disappeared in there.” He turned to look at Beth and added his southern accent returning and his eyes sparkling brightly, “Especially pretty women such as you.” Harry’s face turned red with rage, and it got even redder when Peter winked at her playfully. Beth could only pray that Harry wouldn’t totally lose it and punch Peter square in the jaw. Peter turned and walked away. Shouting over his shoulder, he announced, “I have to go now. I thought there would be more time to talk, but night is coming and I have to be getting home. See you tomorrow.”
***
That night, Beth lay awake in bed, while Harry slept beside her. Beth wanted to sleep too, but she couldn’t. It’s probably because it’s my first night in this house, she thought to herself. But she knew that wasn’t right.
The thing that was keeping her awake was Peter.
Peter was a nice, cheerful man. She liked him (especially that smile!), but there were a few things about him that confused her. For one thing, there were no houses for at least a mile. It was one thing to walk all the way to their house- and almost beat them there- without knowing that they were coming in advance. And it was quite another to walk all the way back to his house and expect to get there before dark. She supposed that he could have driven; however, he had come by foot, and the last car she had seen was at the little town, complete with one barbershop, two markets, and a small, walk-in clinic. She had also noticed that he had tried his best to stay in the shadows, yet seemed nervous about night falling. And when he had gone in the sun, she had noticed something very disturbing about him.
Peter didn’t have a shadow.
***
The next morning, Beth and Harry were eating breakfast when a knocking sound came at the door. Beth thought it was Peter; however, when she answered the door, a man and a little boy were standing there. The man tipped his hat at her and said, “Morning, Ma’am. I’m George, and this is my son, Billy. We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” At that moment, Harry called from the kitchen: “Beth! Get over here!” Beth looked at George and Billy and smiled shyly. “One second, please. I’ll be right back.”
Beth walked into the kitchen, where Harry was waiting. Without a word, Harry pointed out the back window. Beth looked out, and was surprised to see Peter there. “I’ll talk to him. Harry, would you mind talking to George and Billy? They came to welcome us to the neighborhood.”
Harry went to speak with their visitors, and Beth went out the back door to confront Peter. He was standing in the sun, and was wearing the same straw hat that he had been wearing yesterday. Peter turned to look at her and gave her a small smile. “Hello, Beth.” He then turned his attention back to the woods. Beth put a hand gingerly on Peter’s shoulder. “Harry wants to know what you’re doing here.”
Peter smiled smugly. “If he wants to know, why’d he send you out here?” Beth suppressed a giggle and prepared to respond, but Peter interrupted her. The smug smile had disappeared, and it was replaced with a frown that showed deep concern. “I came here to talk about your bruise. It was about the size of your husband’s fist. Does he hurt you, Beth?”
Beth found herself confiding in a man that she met a day ago. She poured out how she married Harry out of fear, and how he beat her if he wasn’t happy with what she did. She found herself crying her eyes out, and when she looked up, Peter was gone. Harry stood there, frowning angrily. “Why are you crying?” he shouted bitterly.
Beth smiled meekly. “I-I fell.” Harry’s eyes narrowed, and for a second she thought he would hit her. However, he only went inside, and he called over his shoulder, “Go into town and pick up my tools!” Beth nodded, and followed him inside.
***
As Beth drove into town, her mind was scrambled with thoughts. The most prominent of these, however, was how she had told Peter things she would have never told anyone else. Peter was no more than a casual acquaintance, yet she had treated him like he was her closest friend. Beth realized that, maybe, she hadn’t told him that stuff on her own free will. He had been staring deep into her eyes while they were talking; perhaps it was some kind of hypnotism? She laughed at the absurdity of this, but something in the back of her mind told her that this idea wasn’t as bizarre as she thought it was. In fact, it was probably true. There’s something about Peter, Beth thought to herself. Something very weird about him.
She pulled into the town just as an argument broke out between two men. She quickly pulled into a parking space that was just outside the hardware store, and went to go inside. However, the two men seemed to have a different idea for her. One of them, with bigger muscles than even Harry, reached out and grabbed her arm. Beth gasped and tried to pull away; however, it was impossible to break free of his painful grip. “Hey, lady! Which one of us would you rather get with?” They laughed, and Beth struggled some more. “Neither! Now let go of me!” The men broke out in fits of laughter again, and out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar straw hat. Beth cried out in a pained voice, “Peter! Peter! Help me!”
Peter glanced over, and when he saw the two men hurting Beth, his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing? Let her go!” The men saw Peter, and Beth realized that she had made a mistake. Peter was tall, and well-built; however, he definitely wasn’t strong or tough. Nevertheless, the men took one look at him and the big-muscled one let go of her immediately. They quickly piled into a pick-up truck and sped off, leaving nothing but a few empty beer cans behind. She glanced over at Peter, and the look in his eyes was so dark and evil that she almost ran away. That bloodcurdling look quickly vanished, so only the pleasant man that had gone out of his way to befriend her and Harry remained. “Thank you, Peter,” Beth said quietly. “No problem,” he said, smiling. He threw her a wink and said, “Want me to walk you in?” Beth was about to say yes, but when that cold glare started to creep into his eyes again, she quickly said “No thanks” and ran into the store.
***
Beth found herself walking down a long dark tunnel. The floor was earthen, and little animals (mice?) scurried around her. She then realized that it wasn’t a tunnel after all, but a muddy path covered in dead leaves that someone had made through the forest. She saw a man standing at the end of the path and, even though she couldn’t see the face, she knew it was Peter because she could feel his cold eyes boring into her. She was scared, but she still kept walking toward him. Soon, she could see his face, and his smile wasn’t the usual happy one that she liked and was used to. This one chilled her to the bone, and looked nothing like a smile that she would expect Peter to wear. Her husband, maybe, but definitely not Peter. She suddenly bumped into him, and realized that she was now face to face with Peter. Is this even Peter?! her mind screamed at her. Before she could answer this question, he spoke. “I know we just met, but I have a little request.”
Beth found herself refusing before she even knew what it was. “No. I-I can’t-” Peter gently covered her mouth. She pulled away. His smile was normal again, and his eyes were filled with compassion and (love?) friendship. “Beth, please help me. I can’t do this by myself. I really need your help. Say you will, Beth.” His eyes had such a pleading look to them that she just couldn’t refuse. His eyes lit up when she said yes, and he embraced her. She felt him kiss her on the cheek, though she was pretty sure (hopeful, even) that it was just her imagination. “Thank you,” he whispered. She went to respond, but Peter shushed her. “Beth, you do know that you’re dreaming, right?”
Beth sat up in a flash, her body wet with perspiration. Harry was staring at her like she was insane. “What’s wrong with you? You were talking in your sleep. Said something about the forest and some old tree.” Beth looked around her. Sure enough, she was sitting up in her bed, with Harry lying next to her. She could see the familiar wood walls, and the floor definitely wasn’t the leafy ground of the forest. So it had been a dream… but what did Harry say about a tree? She remembered the entire conversation exactly, and not once was an old tree mentioned. Maybe I missed something? I’m sure I would’ve remembered that, she thought.
***
One month after they had moved in, Beth and Harry were finally completely settled in. They had made more friends than just Peter, but Beth still liked Peter the most, mainly because he had been so open to accepting them when they first met. She actually spent a lot of time with him, and really did like him. Harry had, of course, noticed this, and this caused the couple to become even more distant. Harry was on the phone a lot, and one day he had gotten a call from his parents. They asked him to come over, and with his relationship as strained as it was with his wife, he readily agreed.
“Beth, my parents want me to visit them and- What’s he doing here?” Peter and Beth, who were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee, both looked up. Beth smiled and said, “We were just talking about a project we were working on.” Peter added, “You can help us if you want.”
Harry scowled. “Why would I help you? Any way, Beth, I need to go to my parents’ house. I won’t be home tonight.” He turned to leave, and Beth got up and followed him. “Harry, why are you telling me this now? I should have already known about this! Do you want me to go with you?” He responded, shortly after getting in the car, “Beth, my parents always tell us stuff on short notice. And I’m perfectly capable of going by myself.” He then added sarcastically, “Maybe I won’t even come back, since you seem to be spending most of your time with Peter anyway.”
Before Beth could even respond, Harry had driven away. Peter walked outside and gave her a shovel. “Let’s go, Beth! We need to start working.” Beth sighed and looked at Peter. “Okay, but can we not work too long today? This work gets really tiring…’
Peter smiled, but his eyes looked sad. “I really want to finish this! But if it will make you happy, we’ll quit early today.”
***
Peter and Beth soon arrived at the tree. It was a large oak tree, and the two of them had been digging a hole in front of it. They had been working on it for about two weeks, and every day, Peter insisted on working longer and longer hours. Every night when she went to bed, her arms burned with pain, and she would come close to crying. That was why she wanted to quit work early today, because she didn’t want to kill herself digging a hole. What she really didn’t like, however, was that Peter didn’t help her at all. He called it “their little project,” but he would just dictate while she did all the work. Beth figured out that it would be best if she pointed this out to Peter, so he could work while she took a break. “Peter? I need to talk to you.”
He glanced over and smiled at her. “What’s up, Beth?”
“Peter, whenever we work on this thing, I always have to do everything. Why can’t you help me? This isn’t just my project!”
Peter sighed and smiled again. “I’ll work today. You take a break, Beth. You deserve it, what with all the hard work you’ve been doing.” Beth sat down with relief, while Peter started digging. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea why they were even doing this. “Peter, what’s the point of this hole anyway?”
Peter spoke without turning. “You’ll see,” he said as he continued to dig.
***
Beth found herself walking through a dark house. She didn’t know whose house it was, but she knew that it wasn’t hers because she didn’t recognize anything in it. The basic setup was the same, but that was just about it.
She found herself walking into the kitchen. The kitchen was as dark as the rest of the house; however, she seemed to know exactly where she was going.
She walked to a small corner.
Beth had no idea why she was there, but she found herself picking up a knife that was on the floor. This was totally against her will, as she told herself to stop but she didn’t. Am I possessed? she thought.
Now Beth was walking up the stairs. She saw a dark patch on one of them, and she prayed it wasn’t blood. She finished climbing the stairs and came to a long hallway. Beth didn’t want to walk down that hallway, not with all the dark spots on the carpet. She commanded herself to stop, but somehow she kept on walking.
At the end of the hallway was a little room. Her hand reached out to touch the doorknob, and as she slowly turned it, she realized that the patches on the floor- and the stairs- were leading to this very room. Sobs echoed out from behind the door, and the man- for that’s what it was- cried out, “Who did this to you? Oh, my poor son!”
At first, Beth thought that she was going to comfort the poor man. Then she remembered the knife. She glanced at it, and gasped, as she saw that it was covered in blood. She walked into the room, and he turned around. His eyes settled on the knife, and they widened. “Oh no! Not YOU! How could you do this!?”
She raised the knife, and he fell backwards. Beth began to stab him and as she did so, she cried and cried. Why am I killing this poor man? she thought to herself.
The last thing she heard the man scream was, “NO! STOP IT! I’M YOUR HUSBAND! YOUR HUSBAND!”
***
“Beth! Wake up!” Beth shot up like a bullet, smashing her head against Peter’s, who had been leaning over her. Peter flew backwards, holding his head where they had collided. Beth, her own head throbbing and tears pouring from her eyes (though not from pain), leaned over him and asked him if he was okay. Peter nodded and said, “I was digging, and when I looked over at you, you had fallen asleep. Then you started screaming, and I tried to wake you up… What were you screaming about, any way?”
“Peter, I… I killed… I KILLED A MAN!” She started crying again, and as Peter comforted her and told her it was only a dream, a very bad dream, that dark, familiar look crept back into his face.
***
That night, Beth lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Harry wasn’t home yet, and he had neglected to call. Beth was alone. She was very tired, but she didn’t want to fall asleep, as she was afraid that the dream would come back to haunt her. Beth knew now that, in the dream, she had killed the boy that the man had been crying over, and she didn’t want to relive killing the poor man all over again.
Another thought struck her. Didn’t the man say he was her husband? her mind questioned her. While he did look familiar, it definitely wasn’t Harry. For one thing, Harry had big muscles. This man was physically fit, but he didn’t have large muscles. Also, Harry never cried, and this man was bawling. You also don’t have kids the voice in her head reminded her. Beth sighed. She really wanted to have children, but it never seemed to work out for her and Harry.
She curled up in a ball and cried herself to sleep. That night, her dreams were haunted by visions of ghosts and murder.
***
The next morning, Beth went into the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. Harry hadn’t come back last night either, so she was still in the house by herself. She popped some bread in the toaster and walked to the fridge. She took the butter out and put it on the kitchen table. Then, she sat down to wait for her toast.
That was when someone knocked at the door.
She walked over to answer the door. Peter was there, and he was holding a set of car keys. He smiled at her, and she invited him inside. “Harry hasn’t come back yet, huh?” asked Peter. She shook her head no, and started up a pot of coffee.
Peter took a seat at the kitchen table. After a moments silence, he said, “Beth, I’m going to leave my truck here. I thought you could use it if you ever need to get into town.” He smiled, jingled the keys at her and laid them on the tabletop.
She brought the toast and the coffee to the table. She offered Peter a slice, but he politely refused. Then, she said, “Thank you for the truck, Peter, but won’t you need it to get into town yourself?”
He smiled and said, “I prefer walking… So, has Harry called you lately?” he questioned her, sensing her unease.
“No, he hasn’t. I’m getting a little worried about him. Normally, he would have called me by now.”
“I wouldn’t be too worried about it. Harry is a tough guy, so I’m pretty sure he can handle anything that comes his way.”
Just then, the phone rang. Peter was closest to it, so he answered it. “Hello?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Beth’s friend, Peter. Who are you?”
“Oh. Hi, Peter. It’s Harry. Would you put Beth on, please?”
“Sure thing, buddy.” Peter handed the phone to Beth. “It’s Harry.”
“Thanks, Peter.” Beth put the phone to her ear. “Hello, Harry.”
“Why is Peter with you?”
“He was going to let me borrow his truck while you were gone. Harry, you’ve been gone for some time and haven’t even called me.”
“I’m going to be at my parent’s house for a while because the two of us need some time apart.” Another voice, which was probably Harry’s Mom, called out, “Harry! Breakfast!” Harry said, with a slight tone of relief, “Gotta go, Beth.” Without even a good-bye or an I Love You, Harry hung up. Beth sighed and placed the phone back in its cradle. Peter had a look on his face that said, I want to say something, but I’ll wait ‘till you feel better.
Beth looked at Peter and forced herself to smile. “Let’s go, Peter. We have work to do.” Peter smiled back, and stood up.
***
In the forest, Beth and Peter dug in shifts. Peter was digging first, he would dig for thirty minutes or so, and then it would be her turn. Beth always found herself digging a little bit longer than Peter did, but she didn’t want to talk to him, as she had finally placed why the man in her dream looked so familiar.
The man in her dream had looked like Peter.
She knew it couldn’t possibly be Peter. For one thing, Peter was solid, and ghosts weren’t solid. She had hugged him good-bye before, she had accidentally bashed her head against his, and he had held her and comforted her as a good friend would when she had had that awful dream. So despite all these factors, why did the man look so much like her friend?
Maybe he had a brother, she thought. Her mind immediately snapped back, He would have told you!
Peter grabbed her shoulder and shook her roughly. Beth gasped and turned over and looked at Peter. His face was filled with concern, and he appeared a little scared. “Are you all right, Beth? You looked like you were about to faint.”
Beth stared at Peter and said, surprisingly calm, “Peter, is there something you’re not telling me?”
Peter seemed surprised and a little hurt. “Beth, you know you can trust me.”
Beth looked him in the eyes. He wasn’t smiling, but something told her that he was lying to her. “I think you’re hiding something.”
Peter’s eyes grew sad and pleading. “Finish digging, Beth. That’s all I ask. I can’t do this by myself. Please help me!” As with the first dream, Peter’s eyes had an irresistible pleading look to them.
Beth sighed and nodded. She thought about the dreams, shivered, and resumed digging.
Suddenly, the shovel clinked against something. Beth looked down, startled. The sunlight that filtered through the trees showed something white. Several things, actually. Beth was too shocked to scream.
What she and Peter were looking at were a bunch of bones.
Peter smiled. “Okay Beth, we’re almost done. All we have to do is bring these to the graveyard.”
She nodded dumbly, still too shocked to respond. She helped Peter gather up the bones. Then, her legs felt like rubber- and everything went black.
***
Beth woke up in the woods. Everything was still dark, and it dawned on her that it was night. She stood up and looked around. Peter was nowhere in sight, and neither were the bones. She shuddered at the thought of them.
She remembered something that Peter had said when they had first met: “Don’t go into the woods by yourselves, unless someone who knows their way around them, such as me, is with you.”
Beth realized that Peter wasn’t there. She knew where she lived, but there really weren’t any landmarks, not to mention all the trees made it so easy to get lost. She sat at the base of the tree and started to cry. Peter was so concerned about his stupid bones that he had completely forgotten about her, and left her alone in there. She glanced down, and her eyes rested on the pile of bones. Peter had left her and the bones there… but where did he go?
A hand descended onto her shoulder. She gasped and turned around, and she immediately came face to face with Peter. She didn’t know if it was the moonlight or not, but he definitely looked paler… and transparent.
“Beth, I was keeping a secret from you. A BIG secret. You see, those bones… are mine.”
Beth just stared at him blankly. Naturally, she would have been shocked, but somehow, deep inside, she had been expecting this.
Peter continued talking. “I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t want to scare you away. I’ve been waiting so long to be put to rest, so when you came, I thought I would have finally had my chance.’
Beth looked at him. “That man in my dream… Was it you?”
Peter nodded. “Yes, it was.” He confided. You see my wife… Well, she was kind of crazy. I usually could keep her in check, but one day she just lost it and… Well, you know what happened next.”
Beth realized that she was crying. Peter saw this and smiled. “Thank you for everything, Beth. All you have to do now is bury me in the graveyard, and I’ll finally be put to rest.”
Beth nodded, and she and Peter gathered up the bones and left.
***
While they were walking, Peter had told her about his wife, and why he and his son were buried at the tree. His wife was crazy, and one day when he wasn’t home she had gotten enraged at something their son had done. When Peter had come home, their son’s dead body was there to greet him. His wife, who was still angry, had killed him as well, and only then did she finally calm down. The reason they were buried at the tree was because Peter’s wife didn’t know what to do, so she buried him and his son’s bodies there. So, in reality, Peter’s spirit was representing both his spirit and his son’s.
There had been an investigation, but their bodies had never been found. For a while, he would appear to people through dreams and beg them to help him. No one would, however, as Beth’s house was the one he had died in- and, as a result they knew he was a ghost, and they would pack up their bags and leave almost immediately after. He had decided to wait for the right person, someone who had never heard his story and, therefore, wouldn’t be scared when he arrived - and that had been Beth. It was at this point in the story that they had reached the town cemetery.
Beth thought that it would have taken her longer to dig the grave, but it actually didn’t take long at all. She had a feeling that Peter was sending her strength, and after everything that had happened so far, she figured that it was true.
When she finished, Beth looked up at Peter’s ghost and said, “I guess you’re leaving now.”
Peter nodded and smiled. “I’ll always be there for you. You know that, right?”
She nodded and said, “I’ll be lonely with you gone. ”
Peter said, “Back when I was alive, I had a friend named Eric Simon. He lived in Detroit… He would probably take care of you and help you out if you needed a friend.”
“Really?”
“Yes… Especially if you tell him that Peter sent ya.” He winked.
“I’ll really miss you.”
“I know. I’ll miss you, too. Good-bye.”
“Bye.” Peter vanished. The last thing he did before leaving this world was wink at her. Beth looked down at the mound of freshly turned dirt where Peter now lay and felt tears stinging her eyes. Quietly, she let them flow.
***
Beth had finished packing her bags, and had loaded them in the red truck Peter had given her. She only packed her clothes and a few small belongings in her suitcases, and some other things in Harry’s. She had decided to go to Detroit and find that Eric guy after all. Even though she had never met him, she figured he would help her out if she mentioned Peter.
Beth had decided to leave Harry. She thought about leaving him a note, but she decided against it. Beth knew Harry’s type, so if she told him about her plans to go to Detroit, he would probably follow her and force her to come back with him. Besides, when Harry discovered that her stuff was missing from the house, he should get the hint.
She turned around and took one last look at the house. It was the type of house she wanted, but she couldn’t stay there- not after all she had been through. If Harry wanted it, he could have it.
Her destination set in her heart, she got into the pick-up truck, and put the keys in the ignition. She revved up the engine, backed down the driveway, then headed forward down the long stretch of road that paved the way to her uncertain future.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Deeper
My first day away from Indiana was very lonely. I didn't know anyone, and I am very different from everyone else. "Mom, why did we have to leave Indiana?" I asked while she was still driving. "There were, uh some complications, Alex." She said never looking away from the road. I didn't get what she meant, but I just left it at that. I could see y dad looking at me strangely through the side mirror on the car door.
I didn't say anything, so I just closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. I awoke suddenly when I heard my mothers car horn. I raised my arms up to grab on to the cars ceiling, but before I grabbed anything, a giant dome like bubble appeared around the car, and the big truck didn't crash into us. We were all confused about it, but then we all noticed that it was coming from me! "Congratulations Alex! You got your third power, only one to go." My brother said from behind.
"Mom, when are we getting to the new place?" I asked her. My arms were starting to get a little tired from raising them. "We should be there in about 10 minutes. Oh, and sweetie?" I looked at her. "Yes mom?" I answered. "You can put your arms down." She winked at me. I put my arms down, and I could feel my strength weakening. So I sat back in my chair, and went back to sleep. When we arrived at the new place, I got out of the ca and ran to the moving truck.
I got the box with all my notebooks and papers, then I ran to the house, up the stairs and into my new room. My bed wasn't up yet, so I sat on the floor and opened the box. Before I left, I remembered Blake gave me a note and told me to read it when I got to the new place. After I read it, tears filled my eyes with hate and depression. I was so sad I couldn't believe what I had just read. I crumpled the note up and threw it across the room.
"Alex! Come down here!" My dad called up. I wiped the tears from eyes. "Alright, I'll be down in a minute!" I called down. I closed the box, then ran downstairs. "What do you need dad?" I asked him trying to hide the fact that I was crying. "I need you to start unloading the truck while we go to the store." My dad said opening the car door. "Can I go with you guys?" I asked him looking a little confused. "Well darling, we don't want to cause a scene if anything goes wrong." He said winking. "Oh alright." I moaned.
My dad got in the car and I watched them drive away. I walked over to the truck and I grabbed a box and then walked out of the truck. I sort of stumbled on my own feet and dropped the box. "Oh shoot!" I yelled kneeling down. I was beginning to pick things up when I shadow blocked the sun. "I'm pretty sure you can't use this anymore." The boy said holding up my moms broken vase. "Dang, my mom's going to be so mad at me!" I said getting up and taking what was left of the vase from him. "I'm Keegan." He said when I took the vase. "I'm Alex. I'll be right back, let me throw this away." I said starting to walk away.
When I got throwing the vase away, Keegan walked through the door with the box I dropped. "It looks like you can use some help." He said smiling. "Well thank you." I said smiling back. We walked back out to the truck while talking about everything. Music, photography, nature, etc. We had so many things in common. When we got the fifth box in the house, we sat down and just talked. I guess we both forgot about unoading the truck. When my parents and brother came back, they looked kind of disappointed in me. "Uh mom, dad? This is Keegan. He lives across the street and was helping me unpack." I told them standing up. "Well it doesn't look like you guys were unpacking." My mom said. "Well we were, then we just took a little break." My dad scowled at me. "Keegan I think it's time for you to go home now." My dad said pointing to the door. "Yes sir."
"Bye Alex." Keegan said hugging me then left. "Bye." I looked down. "Alex you will finish bringing your boxes up to your room, then you will go downstairs to the lair and practice your new power with you mother." My dad said. "But dad I'm a vampire. I don't need "practice"." I told him. He just looked at me. "Fine." I mumbled walking out the door......
-By Ryley Kvamme
Age 12
I didn't say anything, so I just closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. I awoke suddenly when I heard my mothers car horn. I raised my arms up to grab on to the cars ceiling, but before I grabbed anything, a giant dome like bubble appeared around the car, and the big truck didn't crash into us. We were all confused about it, but then we all noticed that it was coming from me! "Congratulations Alex! You got your third power, only one to go." My brother said from behind.
"Mom, when are we getting to the new place?" I asked her. My arms were starting to get a little tired from raising them. "We should be there in about 10 minutes. Oh, and sweetie?" I looked at her. "Yes mom?" I answered. "You can put your arms down." She winked at me. I put my arms down, and I could feel my strength weakening. So I sat back in my chair, and went back to sleep. When we arrived at the new place, I got out of the ca and ran to the moving truck.
I got the box with all my notebooks and papers, then I ran to the house, up the stairs and into my new room. My bed wasn't up yet, so I sat on the floor and opened the box. Before I left, I remembered Blake gave me a note and told me to read it when I got to the new place. After I read it, tears filled my eyes with hate and depression. I was so sad I couldn't believe what I had just read. I crumpled the note up and threw it across the room.
"Alex! Come down here!" My dad called up. I wiped the tears from eyes. "Alright, I'll be down in a minute!" I called down. I closed the box, then ran downstairs. "What do you need dad?" I asked him trying to hide the fact that I was crying. "I need you to start unloading the truck while we go to the store." My dad said opening the car door. "Can I go with you guys?" I asked him looking a little confused. "Well darling, we don't want to cause a scene if anything goes wrong." He said winking. "Oh alright." I moaned.
My dad got in the car and I watched them drive away. I walked over to the truck and I grabbed a box and then walked out of the truck. I sort of stumbled on my own feet and dropped the box. "Oh shoot!" I yelled kneeling down. I was beginning to pick things up when I shadow blocked the sun. "I'm pretty sure you can't use this anymore." The boy said holding up my moms broken vase. "Dang, my mom's going to be so mad at me!" I said getting up and taking what was left of the vase from him. "I'm Keegan." He said when I took the vase. "I'm Alex. I'll be right back, let me throw this away." I said starting to walk away.
When I got throwing the vase away, Keegan walked through the door with the box I dropped. "It looks like you can use some help." He said smiling. "Well thank you." I said smiling back. We walked back out to the truck while talking about everything. Music, photography, nature, etc. We had so many things in common. When we got the fifth box in the house, we sat down and just talked. I guess we both forgot about unoading the truck. When my parents and brother came back, they looked kind of disappointed in me. "Uh mom, dad? This is Keegan. He lives across the street and was helping me unpack." I told them standing up. "Well it doesn't look like you guys were unpacking." My mom said. "Well we were, then we just took a little break." My dad scowled at me. "Keegan I think it's time for you to go home now." My dad said pointing to the door. "Yes sir."
"Bye Alex." Keegan said hugging me then left. "Bye." I looked down. "Alex you will finish bringing your boxes up to your room, then you will go downstairs to the lair and practice your new power with you mother." My dad said. "But dad I'm a vampire. I don't need "practice"." I told him. He just looked at me. "Fine." I mumbled walking out the door......
-By Ryley Kvamme
Age 12
Translucent
prej'u'dice (pre j’ə dis): detestation or intolerance of a specific group, such as members of a certain race and/or religion.
Ex: Just like the Black race 800 years before us, we have been the targets of hatred and revulsion, because of, and I’m sure you’ve guessed why, our milky, translucent skin tone. We are labeled Translucents. My tribe and I were discovered on a small, uncharted island in the South Pacific. We were brought back to the mainland solely because of our gossamer skin. We are poked and prodded like lab rats, and we are forced to live in Translucent Holding Institutions (or THIs). We are not named, just tagged with a letter-number combination. I am T-351, no more than a newly discovered species of animal. I am sick and tired of being discriminated against! I will escape and find my true fate, or die trying. One thing you should know about me, I am highly intuitive. Some humans may call me a “psychic,” or a “fortune-teller,” but that is not the case. I have an unspoken theory, but I cannot reveal it until the Day of Darkness. The Day of Darkness will arrive in 13 moons, and then I must go to the hill on the other side of town. There, I just know, my destiny will unfold, and I will be free. But first, I must escape the prison of the THI.
I need a distraction.
Two moons before the Day of Darkness, I unleash the chaos that will set me free. I am given a rock-hard piece of bread and a cup of tap water. I take a bite of the bread and immediately feign choking. I roll my eyes back into my head and flail my arms around. A guard notices me “choking” and hurriedly grabs his key ring to unlock my cell, a specimen dying on his shift made for a bad reputation. The guard comes into the cell, leaving the door ajar with the key still in it. I spit the bread out, sprint out of the cell, and lock the guard in. I dart frantically for the exit, only a few feet away, almost there…
The sunlight blinds me, for I’ve only seen artificial lighting. I spot a dark alley down the street. As I make for the alleyway, I faintly hear a siren go off. “Attention! T-351 has escaped! Be on your guard! Do not alert the citizens. I repeat, do NOT alert the citizens!” This makes my heart beat faster, my legs move more quickly, and my thirst for freedom stronger. I skid to a halt in the alley, and hide behind a gradually dripping pipe that’s about the same width as me. I wait until dusk to travel closer to the hill. I cautiously scope out my surroundings, and I don’t believe I’m being followed. I run for three miles or so, and then I spot an abandoned, old library. I quietly sneak in and find a dark couch in the corner. I sit down, but the couch is lumpy and misshapen. I smell something that smells like rotting meat and mold. It’s just you’re imagination, I tell myself, not thoroughly convinced. That’s when I feel bugs scurrying across my pale legs. I unwillingly glace down, and see a long-dead corpse underneath me. Now I know why the library is abandoned. I let out a piercing shriek and tear out of there. I am so repulsed that I wade into the first lake I come to and viciously rub my legs, trying to get that horrible sensation of maggots off of them. I get out of the lake shivering wet. I decide more running will dry me off faster, and there’s still more time before the sun rises. I start to pick up speed, going faster and faster, and then I realize that I arrived at the hill! I look up at the sky, and it’s a light pinkish gold. Everyone will awaken soon, I must find shelter. I gaze around me, no hiding spots, no bushes, not even a hole. I have to disappear, and fast. I glance to my right, and I notice a large, leafy oak tree. I scamper up the tree as soon as I reach it, find the most comfortable branch, and wait until the Day of Darkness arrives. My eyelids start drooping, but I must stay awake. Far off, a dog is barking rhythmically. Woof, woof, woof. The sky is now a brilliant blue, and a slight, warm breeze blows gently around me. The clouds look like fluffy white sheep, moving across the sky…
I wake up to a bright light shining in my eyes. I look around, hoping for an explanation. I blearily wiped my tired eyes, and see that the sky is dark, but the hill is illuminated by a bright light, coming from the sky. I tilt my head upward, and see a circular disk beaming a light on the hill. But, the beam has a dark spot, moving from the ship to the ground. I jump down from the tree and jog over to the hill, my arms open in an embrace. I pull her into a hug that could not even begin to express the unconditional love I felt for her. Hand-in-hand, we glide toward the ship. I have found my destiny, my freedom, my mother.
-By Olivia B.
Age 13
Ex: Just like the Black race 800 years before us, we have been the targets of hatred and revulsion, because of, and I’m sure you’ve guessed why, our milky, translucent skin tone. We are labeled Translucents. My tribe and I were discovered on a small, uncharted island in the South Pacific. We were brought back to the mainland solely because of our gossamer skin. We are poked and prodded like lab rats, and we are forced to live in Translucent Holding Institutions (or THIs). We are not named, just tagged with a letter-number combination. I am T-351, no more than a newly discovered species of animal. I am sick and tired of being discriminated against! I will escape and find my true fate, or die trying. One thing you should know about me, I am highly intuitive. Some humans may call me a “psychic,” or a “fortune-teller,” but that is not the case. I have an unspoken theory, but I cannot reveal it until the Day of Darkness. The Day of Darkness will arrive in 13 moons, and then I must go to the hill on the other side of town. There, I just know, my destiny will unfold, and I will be free. But first, I must escape the prison of the THI.
I need a distraction.
Two moons before the Day of Darkness, I unleash the chaos that will set me free. I am given a rock-hard piece of bread and a cup of tap water. I take a bite of the bread and immediately feign choking. I roll my eyes back into my head and flail my arms around. A guard notices me “choking” and hurriedly grabs his key ring to unlock my cell, a specimen dying on his shift made for a bad reputation. The guard comes into the cell, leaving the door ajar with the key still in it. I spit the bread out, sprint out of the cell, and lock the guard in. I dart frantically for the exit, only a few feet away, almost there…
The sunlight blinds me, for I’ve only seen artificial lighting. I spot a dark alley down the street. As I make for the alleyway, I faintly hear a siren go off. “Attention! T-351 has escaped! Be on your guard! Do not alert the citizens. I repeat, do NOT alert the citizens!” This makes my heart beat faster, my legs move more quickly, and my thirst for freedom stronger. I skid to a halt in the alley, and hide behind a gradually dripping pipe that’s about the same width as me. I wait until dusk to travel closer to the hill. I cautiously scope out my surroundings, and I don’t believe I’m being followed. I run for three miles or so, and then I spot an abandoned, old library. I quietly sneak in and find a dark couch in the corner. I sit down, but the couch is lumpy and misshapen. I smell something that smells like rotting meat and mold. It’s just you’re imagination, I tell myself, not thoroughly convinced. That’s when I feel bugs scurrying across my pale legs. I unwillingly glace down, and see a long-dead corpse underneath me. Now I know why the library is abandoned. I let out a piercing shriek and tear out of there. I am so repulsed that I wade into the first lake I come to and viciously rub my legs, trying to get that horrible sensation of maggots off of them. I get out of the lake shivering wet. I decide more running will dry me off faster, and there’s still more time before the sun rises. I start to pick up speed, going faster and faster, and then I realize that I arrived at the hill! I look up at the sky, and it’s a light pinkish gold. Everyone will awaken soon, I must find shelter. I gaze around me, no hiding spots, no bushes, not even a hole. I have to disappear, and fast. I glance to my right, and I notice a large, leafy oak tree. I scamper up the tree as soon as I reach it, find the most comfortable branch, and wait until the Day of Darkness arrives. My eyelids start drooping, but I must stay awake. Far off, a dog is barking rhythmically. Woof, woof, woof. The sky is now a brilliant blue, and a slight, warm breeze blows gently around me. The clouds look like fluffy white sheep, moving across the sky…
I wake up to a bright light shining in my eyes. I look around, hoping for an explanation. I blearily wiped my tired eyes, and see that the sky is dark, but the hill is illuminated by a bright light, coming from the sky. I tilt my head upward, and see a circular disk beaming a light on the hill. But, the beam has a dark spot, moving from the ship to the ground. I jump down from the tree and jog over to the hill, my arms open in an embrace. I pull her into a hug that could not even begin to express the unconditional love I felt for her. Hand-in-hand, we glide toward the ship. I have found my destiny, my freedom, my mother.
-By Olivia B.
Age 13
The Stolen Artist
Chapter 1: The Beginning
It was a early fall afternoon. Where you could be warm, but still have an enjoyable day, that would be Where, Wisconsin. Where had two churches, two millionaires, and almost two of everything else. I knew it was going to be a bad afternoon when I heard a door slam, two blocks away, then a woman’s screech...
“Go away, you horrible brat! Don’t let me ever see you on this property again!” Mrs. Rodregez screamed. She was screaming at that Picissimus boy.
“Ma, leave him alone. He’s a friend from school. All the boys like me there.” replied twenty-two-year-old Isabel.
“But dearie, this is the fifteenth.” her mother gasped. “Why do they keep coming?”
“Well, they’re all trying to get in here for Mystery Club.” answered Isabel.
“Look at me and tell me if you... What in the world are you wearing?” cried Mrs. Rodregez.
Now Isabel was wearing a dark black trench coat, very unusual for a warm day.
“In this heat! You must be mad, Isabel. A trench coat in September, when it’s almost 80NF? I’ve never, ever heard of it.” exclaimed her mother.
Just then, the door opened. There, on the threshold, was Mr. Rodregez, a man that thought he was the richest in the whole town. Anyone who dared tell him otherwise was headed for trouble. Middle-aged; about 52 years old, with a sharp, upturned nose like a knife. His fingers were covered with bubbly, rough warts. His face was always set in a frightening grimace, unless he was happy. He was Isabel’s step-dad. She hated him, and she wished she could live with her real father. But no, her parents had divorced a year ago.
“How’re ya doin’, dear?” he boomed to his wife. He had a terrible lisp. “We’re going ta move to Easy Street for the rest of our lives. I made six thousand dollars at each mall today. Thirty-six thousand dollars a lot to make in one day, ya know!”
Chapter 2: Art
Meanwhile, twenty-three-year-old Caleb Picissimus was walking home. Isabel’s mother’s scream was still echoing in his ears. As he walked through the front door of his home, he called out, “I’m home!”
An answer rang out from the art studio/office. “Good afternoon, Caleb.” Mr. Picissimus was a famous artist, and he was making a beautiful sculpture for his art show, which was in one hour.
“There!” he said as he put on the finishing touches. “Just right. Now, Caleb, get ready to go. The art show’s in an hour!”
Chapter 3: The Show
In an hour’s time, the two Picissimus were in the front row seats to hear Mr. Picissimus’ speech. All except Mr. Picissimus, who was standing before a podium.
He cleared his throat and began,
“Hello. My name is Ryely Picissimus, your host for tonight.” a mad applause broke out, but Mr. Picissimus hushed them. “First, I’d like to thank all of you for coming. Second, I’d like to dedicate this sculpture called ‘Beauty in Stillness’ to my wife, Rosie.” A polite applause began, then stopped. “Lastly, for young artists, I’m putting on display my Book of Writing. It has notes and pictures of every piece of art I’ve done since I was in high school.” Another brief applause. “Now check out some art!”
As Mr. Picissimus was strolling past his book of writing, he felt thirsty and went by the punch bowl. All of the sudden the lights went off, there was a muffled cry, and lights went on. “Just a power outage.” Mrs. Picissimus reassured the terrified people. Everyone went on buying and nobody noticed anything was wrong...
“Caleb, have you seen your father anywhere? I think that he should know that Mrs. Markyler just bought Yorkie Love for six hundred thousand dollars!” Mrs. Picissimus whispered.
“No. I was just going to...” But Caleb never finished his sentence, for a scream had just split the quiet murmur of the art show.
Chapter 4: A Scary Carpet
“What was that?” cried Mrs. Picissimus. “What’s wrong now?”
“I’m so sorry.” answered an elderly lady lying on the floor. “I saw some blood on the floor. I have hemephobia, or the fear of blood. I was afraid when I saw it on the carpet.”
Meanwhile, Mr. Picissimus came to. “Where am I?” he thought. The last thing he remembered was writing the note. But what did he write? He had forgotten in the struggle. All he knew right then was that he was in the back of covered pickup truck, and he was bound and gagged. He smelled the air. It tasted like sea salt. The truck lurched to a stop. Next thing Mr. Picissimus knew was that a grim face opened the back and said, “Good morning, oops, I mean, good night!” And everything went totally black.
Chapter 5: A Super Surprise
The next morning, Mrs. Picissimus was cooking breakfast when Caleb burst through the door. “Mom,” he said, “I have the newspaper.”
As the two Picissimus’ ate their breakfast, Mrs. Picissimus remarked, “I wonder where your father is. He’s never been away a whole night.” Caleb was thinking the same. Mr. Picissimus never was away until breakfast. If he was eating at someone else’s home, he’d always be home by one o’clock a.m.
“It is strange.” he thought as he cleared the table and tied his shoes. “Mom, I’m going to the Rodregez’s after school for Mystery Club.” he called as he walked out the door.
When Caleb had left for school, Mrs. Picissimus sat down to read the newspaper and drink a cup of coffee. As she scanned through it, her eyes fell on a letter. It looked as if someone cut letters out of a magazine. It read:
“If you want to see him again, send $10,000,000 to P.O. Box 1032, Where, Wisconsin.”
“Oh dear!” she gasped. “What shall I do?” she questioned herself. “I know! I’ll call Isabel Rodregez. She’s solved more mysteries than Chief Rologh.” And that’s exactly what she did, that afternoon at four o’clock sharp.
Chapter 6: Help for Free
The telephone was answered by the Rodregez’s butler. “Hello, you have reached the Rodregez’s. To whom would you like to speak?” he said in a pompous, stiff British accent.
“To Miss Rodrgez, please.” Mrs. Picissimus said, choking down a fit of giggles.
“One moment.” the butler replied, evermore pompously.
“Yes?” demanded a young voice. “I really need to get my homework done.”
“Um...Hello, Isabel. My name is Mrs. Picissimus. “And I’ve called...”
“Because-your-husband-was-kidnaped?” Isabel interrupted in one breath. “I was expecting you to call sooner of later. I found an envelope in my mail box this morning. It said ‘If you want to see Mr. Picissimus again, help Mrs. Picissimus get ten million dollars.’ Did you put that there?”
“No, Isabel. I got a letter in our newspaper. Something smells fishy here, I think.” Mrs. Picissimus answered.
“I know. I’ll help you for free. If it was my real father, I’d do anything for him. I’ll be right over.”
Both Mrs. Picissimus and Isabel could not help being confused as each hung up.
Chapter 7: Where?
Meanwhile, Mr. Picissimus came to once again, listening to gulls screech and fish talk on their cell phones. “Fish talking on their cell phones?” he thought to himself. He tried to see who his captor was, but he found he was blindfolded, gagged, tied up like a mummy, and his ears were being pugged with beeswax.
“Don’t want you to know the secret plans.” sneered a voice. “All you need to know is that your going to die a sailor’s death!”
Mr. Picissimus felt fingers squeeze the back of his neck. He knew what was about to happen, but he didn’t want it happen. He tried to move, but it was too late. The world went black.
Chapter 8: B.O.W.?
As soon as Isabel came, had a cookie or two, she got right down to business. “What was the last thing you saw Mr. Picissimus doing?”she asked, quietly.
“Walking past his B.O.W.” Mrs. Picissimus quickly replied.
“His what?” Isabel inquired aloud.
“Sorry, his book of writing. We just call it his B.O.W.” explained Mr. Picissimus.
“Can you bring it here?” pleaded Isabel.
“Why, of course. We did bring it back last night. But I can’t remember where it is. Just a minute.” Mrs. Picissimus muttered.
While she was getting the book, Caleb came home. He didn’t see Isabel, so he called out, “I’m home!” All at once, he saw Isabel sitting on the couch. “Sorry. I didn’t see you. I was just at your house, but your mom saw me and asked me if was there for Mystery Club. It was so weird. Then she said that she said that Mystery club was canceled because she didn’t know where you where.”
Just then, Mrs. Picissimus came into the room, holding the book. She took one glance at Caleb, one at Isabel, and sat down. “Hello, Caleb.” She sounded very tired. “Miss Rodregez and I are truing to figure out who kidnaped Dad.”
“Kidnapped?!” squealed Caleb. There was no doubt that Caleb was afraid.
“Yes, and may you please pass the book.” Isabel answered coolly. As she flipped to the last entry, she said, “I think there might be a clue somewhere in here. Who is Mr. Pucussumes?” she added.
“Oh, Ryely sometimes mixes up vowels, that’s all. He’s told me that to him ‘A’ is ‘I’, ‘E’ is ‘O’, ‘I’ is ‘U’, ‘O’ is ‘A’, and ‘U’ is ‘E’, but he never messes up ‘Y’ strangely.”
Isabel had just found the last entry as Mrs. Picissimus was speaking. She read it and said, “Look! This reads: ‘Holp! U’vo boon kudniped by Mr. Radrogoz, ind U’m boung tikon ta Twum Uslind.”
“Oh dear! The secret code to the mystery.” cried Mrs. Picissimus. Immediately her tone softened. “Well, Isabel, it’s past 6:00. I think it might be best if you joined us for supper at the pizza parlor. But first, I think I’ll have the code finished by tomorrow at four p.m. tomorrow. Now, let’s go because I am ravenously hungry. You and Caleb drive in your car, I’ll drive in mine.”
Chapter 9: A Good Dream
That night, Mrs. Picissimus didn’t try to solve the mystery. She was too tired. She went to bed at ten thirty and slept so soundly she didn’t hear her lock on her bedroom door go *click*.
Mrs. Picissimus dreamed that she was getting a full body massage. After the wonderful massage, the lady put lotion all over, including her back.
When her alarm went off at seven a.m. the next morning, Mrs. Picissimus found she couldn’t turn it off due to the fact that her arms were pinned to her side. “Caleb!” she yelled, “Help! I’m stuck in my bed.”
When Caleb came in, he found she was glued to her bed and, on top of the glue, she was tied like a mummy. “Hold on.” As he went to call 911, Mrs. Picissimus got a text message on her cell phone that was from Isabel. It said that Mr. Picissimus’ kidnaper was a man named Rodregez and that he was holding Mr. Picissimus hostage on Twin Island.
“Mom, the ambulance is on its way.” Caleb said. “I’m off for...”
Mrs. Picissimus cut him off. “You’re off for Twin Island. Isabel texted me on my phone and said a Mr. Rodregez is behind all this.”
“O.K. I’ll go rent a boat. Stay warm until the ambulance comes.”
“I’m fine, dear. Now go get Isabel, take her with you and go.” cried Mrs. Picissimus.
“Bye!”
“GO!” screamed his exited, but scared, mother.
Chapter 10: Big Money is Trampy’s
As Caleb and Isabel climbed aboard Queen of the Seven Seas, Caleb explained why he took her off to the harbor before the bus came, and why they went to the Where police station. “Mom got really energetic after that text massage you sent. She demanded you come because you solved the mystery.”
When the boat sighted Twin Island, the captain sent a lifeboat to Caleb and Isabel so they could go ashore. After five minutes of rowing, they reached the island.
Getting the life boat on the beach was tough, but together Caleb and Isabel did it. Half the island was jungle, the other half desert beach, so they knew he would be in a hidden, closed area.
Since Isabel was afraid of spiders, and Caleb was of afraid of them too, they stayed clear of webs. But if they had walked close to any one of the webs, they would have lost their lives.
Soon they came to an overturned dory. Almost as soon as Isabel touched the hull, a voice growled, “Don’t touchy or I’s gonna shoot. Ya must bi brave, ya ’ve made it thees far. Dat’s right, Mr. P is in this dory, but he’s in a baad wi. I’s thinkin’ he’s dyin’.”
Isabel gasped at the last word. Caleb said, “I have the money, mister.”
“Whell, ya pay me fife dolors now ta see ’im.” the voice muttered.
“Here.” Caleb handed him a counterfeit bill.
“Weetch yo ’ead.” came the gravelly voice.
There, lying at one end of the dory, was Mr. Picissimus, tied, blindfolded, gagged, and sleeping. His breath was ragged and shallow, and his cheeks were pink and flushed. Caleb took on glance and said to the man with the gravelly growl in voice, “He needs medical help right now. Ten million, right?”
“Ya.” grunted the man. “Call me Trampy.”
“Here.” Caleb handed him a check for ten million dollars that was also counterfeit. He had also gotten ten dollars of counterfeit money for entering something else, like getting into the dory.
“Thank you.” the man named Trampy thought he had just become ten million, five dollars richer. “’ere, where’s dat knife? Ah, dere it is. Hold dose ropes tight, young lady, while I’s a cuttin’ ’em.” he started cutting through the rope.
Caleb began untying the blindfold, but while he was doing that, he noticed that there was beeswax in Mr. Picissimus’s ears. He pulled it out and then did the same with the other ear, then untied the blindfold. The moment the blindfold was off, Mr. Picissimus woke up, and smiled at Caleb through his tired eyes, but expression was one of great happiness.
The ropes were cut, and blindfold gone, and the only thing left was the gag. Isabel took it out and relieved him of his silence. Immediately Mr. Picissimus said, “Son! How I’ve longed to see you. Miss Isabel, I can never thank you enough. How did you find me?”
“It’s a long story.” said Trampy. Everyone looked at him in surprise. “It took wots of energy on me part, leek turning out de lights at da show, or carryin’ ya out ta da truck, tying ya up, drivin’, rowin’ da boat when da matar stupped, lugging ya out ’ere, den da boat, diggin’ a ’uge hole under this dory, coverin’ Mrs. P in glue, almost shootin’ the kids. O’ Rodregez es staying low, da scoundrel!”he ranted on. “Then he said I could have two million, five hundred thousand dollars of the booty...”
Isabel stopped him. “Rodregez?” she asked. “Will Rodregez?” her heart skipped a beat.
“Da one and only, kid. Do ya know ’im?”
“Yes. He’s my step-dad.” stammered Isabel.
“Den go ’ome. ’E’s gonna be en big trouble with a capital T.” replied Trampy.
As Caleb, Mr. Picissimus, and Isabel walked to the life boat, Mr. Picissimus had to stop every ten yards to massage his legs that had been tied up and now cramped a lot. Finally, they rowed to the Queen of the Seven Seas, and sailed home.
Chapter 11: Home, Sweet Home
After sailing home, Mr. Picissimus, Caleb, and Isabel went to the hospital because Mr. Picissimus was very ill. When Caleb and Isabel went to visit him, they found that Mrs. Picissimus was in the same room as Mr. Picissimus. They both recovered, but Mr. Rodregez did not. As the judge gave the sentence (which was to pay for all the medical fees for the Picissimus’, give away 75% of his wealth to charity, and give his job to someone not so greedy.) He knew that his wife would hate him, and the rest of the world, too.
Mysteriously, Mr. Rodregez died only three weeks later. He was not shot, but had a heart attack in bed while he was sleeping, and died.
Chapter 12: All’s Well That Ends Well
Now that I’ve told you about my hometown mystery, there’s not much more to say. One year after the incident, Caleb and Isabel married and had a daughter, Jasmine, on their anniversary , and the five Picissimus’ were happy. Jasmine loved and solved mysteries and like her mother, and was strong, loyal, and thoughtful like Caleb. -
-By Danae Witte
Age 12
It was a early fall afternoon. Where you could be warm, but still have an enjoyable day, that would be Where, Wisconsin. Where had two churches, two millionaires, and almost two of everything else. I knew it was going to be a bad afternoon when I heard a door slam, two blocks away, then a woman’s screech...
“Go away, you horrible brat! Don’t let me ever see you on this property again!” Mrs. Rodregez screamed. She was screaming at that Picissimus boy.
“Ma, leave him alone. He’s a friend from school. All the boys like me there.” replied twenty-two-year-old Isabel.
“But dearie, this is the fifteenth.” her mother gasped. “Why do they keep coming?”
“Well, they’re all trying to get in here for Mystery Club.” answered Isabel.
“Look at me and tell me if you... What in the world are you wearing?” cried Mrs. Rodregez.
Now Isabel was wearing a dark black trench coat, very unusual for a warm day.
“In this heat! You must be mad, Isabel. A trench coat in September, when it’s almost 80NF? I’ve never, ever heard of it.” exclaimed her mother.
Just then, the door opened. There, on the threshold, was Mr. Rodregez, a man that thought he was the richest in the whole town. Anyone who dared tell him otherwise was headed for trouble. Middle-aged; about 52 years old, with a sharp, upturned nose like a knife. His fingers were covered with bubbly, rough warts. His face was always set in a frightening grimace, unless he was happy. He was Isabel’s step-dad. She hated him, and she wished she could live with her real father. But no, her parents had divorced a year ago.
“How’re ya doin’, dear?” he boomed to his wife. He had a terrible lisp. “We’re going ta move to Easy Street for the rest of our lives. I made six thousand dollars at each mall today. Thirty-six thousand dollars a lot to make in one day, ya know!”
Chapter 2: Art
Meanwhile, twenty-three-year-old Caleb Picissimus was walking home. Isabel’s mother’s scream was still echoing in his ears. As he walked through the front door of his home, he called out, “I’m home!”
An answer rang out from the art studio/office. “Good afternoon, Caleb.” Mr. Picissimus was a famous artist, and he was making a beautiful sculpture for his art show, which was in one hour.
“There!” he said as he put on the finishing touches. “Just right. Now, Caleb, get ready to go. The art show’s in an hour!”
Chapter 3: The Show
In an hour’s time, the two Picissimus were in the front row seats to hear Mr. Picissimus’ speech. All except Mr. Picissimus, who was standing before a podium.
He cleared his throat and began,
“Hello. My name is Ryely Picissimus, your host for tonight.” a mad applause broke out, but Mr. Picissimus hushed them. “First, I’d like to thank all of you for coming. Second, I’d like to dedicate this sculpture called ‘Beauty in Stillness’ to my wife, Rosie.” A polite applause began, then stopped. “Lastly, for young artists, I’m putting on display my Book of Writing. It has notes and pictures of every piece of art I’ve done since I was in high school.” Another brief applause. “Now check out some art!”
As Mr. Picissimus was strolling past his book of writing, he felt thirsty and went by the punch bowl. All of the sudden the lights went off, there was a muffled cry, and lights went on. “Just a power outage.” Mrs. Picissimus reassured the terrified people. Everyone went on buying and nobody noticed anything was wrong...
“Caleb, have you seen your father anywhere? I think that he should know that Mrs. Markyler just bought Yorkie Love for six hundred thousand dollars!” Mrs. Picissimus whispered.
“No. I was just going to...” But Caleb never finished his sentence, for a scream had just split the quiet murmur of the art show.
Chapter 4: A Scary Carpet
“What was that?” cried Mrs. Picissimus. “What’s wrong now?”
“I’m so sorry.” answered an elderly lady lying on the floor. “I saw some blood on the floor. I have hemephobia, or the fear of blood. I was afraid when I saw it on the carpet.”
Meanwhile, Mr. Picissimus came to. “Where am I?” he thought. The last thing he remembered was writing the note. But what did he write? He had forgotten in the struggle. All he knew right then was that he was in the back of covered pickup truck, and he was bound and gagged. He smelled the air. It tasted like sea salt. The truck lurched to a stop. Next thing Mr. Picissimus knew was that a grim face opened the back and said, “Good morning, oops, I mean, good night!” And everything went totally black.
Chapter 5: A Super Surprise
The next morning, Mrs. Picissimus was cooking breakfast when Caleb burst through the door. “Mom,” he said, “I have the newspaper.”
As the two Picissimus’ ate their breakfast, Mrs. Picissimus remarked, “I wonder where your father is. He’s never been away a whole night.” Caleb was thinking the same. Mr. Picissimus never was away until breakfast. If he was eating at someone else’s home, he’d always be home by one o’clock a.m.
“It is strange.” he thought as he cleared the table and tied his shoes. “Mom, I’m going to the Rodregez’s after school for Mystery Club.” he called as he walked out the door.
When Caleb had left for school, Mrs. Picissimus sat down to read the newspaper and drink a cup of coffee. As she scanned through it, her eyes fell on a letter. It looked as if someone cut letters out of a magazine. It read:
“If you want to see him again, send $10,000,000 to P.O. Box 1032, Where, Wisconsin.”
“Oh dear!” she gasped. “What shall I do?” she questioned herself. “I know! I’ll call Isabel Rodregez. She’s solved more mysteries than Chief Rologh.” And that’s exactly what she did, that afternoon at four o’clock sharp.
Chapter 6: Help for Free
The telephone was answered by the Rodregez’s butler. “Hello, you have reached the Rodregez’s. To whom would you like to speak?” he said in a pompous, stiff British accent.
“To Miss Rodrgez, please.” Mrs. Picissimus said, choking down a fit of giggles.
“One moment.” the butler replied, evermore pompously.
“Yes?” demanded a young voice. “I really need to get my homework done.”
“Um...Hello, Isabel. My name is Mrs. Picissimus. “And I’ve called...”
“Because-your-husband-was-kidnaped?” Isabel interrupted in one breath. “I was expecting you to call sooner of later. I found an envelope in my mail box this morning. It said ‘If you want to see Mr. Picissimus again, help Mrs. Picissimus get ten million dollars.’ Did you put that there?”
“No, Isabel. I got a letter in our newspaper. Something smells fishy here, I think.” Mrs. Picissimus answered.
“I know. I’ll help you for free. If it was my real father, I’d do anything for him. I’ll be right over.”
Both Mrs. Picissimus and Isabel could not help being confused as each hung up.
Chapter 7: Where?
Meanwhile, Mr. Picissimus came to once again, listening to gulls screech and fish talk on their cell phones. “Fish talking on their cell phones?” he thought to himself. He tried to see who his captor was, but he found he was blindfolded, gagged, tied up like a mummy, and his ears were being pugged with beeswax.
“Don’t want you to know the secret plans.” sneered a voice. “All you need to know is that your going to die a sailor’s death!”
Mr. Picissimus felt fingers squeeze the back of his neck. He knew what was about to happen, but he didn’t want it happen. He tried to move, but it was too late. The world went black.
Chapter 8: B.O.W.?
As soon as Isabel came, had a cookie or two, she got right down to business. “What was the last thing you saw Mr. Picissimus doing?”she asked, quietly.
“Walking past his B.O.W.” Mrs. Picissimus quickly replied.
“His what?” Isabel inquired aloud.
“Sorry, his book of writing. We just call it his B.O.W.” explained Mr. Picissimus.
“Can you bring it here?” pleaded Isabel.
“Why, of course. We did bring it back last night. But I can’t remember where it is. Just a minute.” Mrs. Picissimus muttered.
While she was getting the book, Caleb came home. He didn’t see Isabel, so he called out, “I’m home!” All at once, he saw Isabel sitting on the couch. “Sorry. I didn’t see you. I was just at your house, but your mom saw me and asked me if was there for Mystery Club. It was so weird. Then she said that she said that Mystery club was canceled because she didn’t know where you where.”
Just then, Mrs. Picissimus came into the room, holding the book. She took one glance at Caleb, one at Isabel, and sat down. “Hello, Caleb.” She sounded very tired. “Miss Rodregez and I are truing to figure out who kidnaped Dad.”
“Kidnapped?!” squealed Caleb. There was no doubt that Caleb was afraid.
“Yes, and may you please pass the book.” Isabel answered coolly. As she flipped to the last entry, she said, “I think there might be a clue somewhere in here. Who is Mr. Pucussumes?” she added.
“Oh, Ryely sometimes mixes up vowels, that’s all. He’s told me that to him ‘A’ is ‘I’, ‘E’ is ‘O’, ‘I’ is ‘U’, ‘O’ is ‘A’, and ‘U’ is ‘E’, but he never messes up ‘Y’ strangely.”
Isabel had just found the last entry as Mrs. Picissimus was speaking. She read it and said, “Look! This reads: ‘Holp! U’vo boon kudniped by Mr. Radrogoz, ind U’m boung tikon ta Twum Uslind.”
“Oh dear! The secret code to the mystery.” cried Mrs. Picissimus. Immediately her tone softened. “Well, Isabel, it’s past 6:00. I think it might be best if you joined us for supper at the pizza parlor. But first, I think I’ll have the code finished by tomorrow at four p.m. tomorrow. Now, let’s go because I am ravenously hungry. You and Caleb drive in your car, I’ll drive in mine.”
Chapter 9: A Good Dream
That night, Mrs. Picissimus didn’t try to solve the mystery. She was too tired. She went to bed at ten thirty and slept so soundly she didn’t hear her lock on her bedroom door go *click*.
Mrs. Picissimus dreamed that she was getting a full body massage. After the wonderful massage, the lady put lotion all over, including her back.
When her alarm went off at seven a.m. the next morning, Mrs. Picissimus found she couldn’t turn it off due to the fact that her arms were pinned to her side. “Caleb!” she yelled, “Help! I’m stuck in my bed.”
When Caleb came in, he found she was glued to her bed and, on top of the glue, she was tied like a mummy. “Hold on.” As he went to call 911, Mrs. Picissimus got a text message on her cell phone that was from Isabel. It said that Mr. Picissimus’ kidnaper was a man named Rodregez and that he was holding Mr. Picissimus hostage on Twin Island.
“Mom, the ambulance is on its way.” Caleb said. “I’m off for...”
Mrs. Picissimus cut him off. “You’re off for Twin Island. Isabel texted me on my phone and said a Mr. Rodregez is behind all this.”
“O.K. I’ll go rent a boat. Stay warm until the ambulance comes.”
“I’m fine, dear. Now go get Isabel, take her with you and go.” cried Mrs. Picissimus.
“Bye!”
“GO!” screamed his exited, but scared, mother.
Chapter 10: Big Money is Trampy’s
As Caleb and Isabel climbed aboard Queen of the Seven Seas, Caleb explained why he took her off to the harbor before the bus came, and why they went to the Where police station. “Mom got really energetic after that text massage you sent. She demanded you come because you solved the mystery.”
When the boat sighted Twin Island, the captain sent a lifeboat to Caleb and Isabel so they could go ashore. After five minutes of rowing, they reached the island.
Getting the life boat on the beach was tough, but together Caleb and Isabel did it. Half the island was jungle, the other half desert beach, so they knew he would be in a hidden, closed area.
Since Isabel was afraid of spiders, and Caleb was of afraid of them too, they stayed clear of webs. But if they had walked close to any one of the webs, they would have lost their lives.
Soon they came to an overturned dory. Almost as soon as Isabel touched the hull, a voice growled, “Don’t touchy or I’s gonna shoot. Ya must bi brave, ya ’ve made it thees far. Dat’s right, Mr. P is in this dory, but he’s in a baad wi. I’s thinkin’ he’s dyin’.”
Isabel gasped at the last word. Caleb said, “I have the money, mister.”
“Whell, ya pay me fife dolors now ta see ’im.” the voice muttered.
“Here.” Caleb handed him a counterfeit bill.
“Weetch yo ’ead.” came the gravelly voice.
There, lying at one end of the dory, was Mr. Picissimus, tied, blindfolded, gagged, and sleeping. His breath was ragged and shallow, and his cheeks were pink and flushed. Caleb took on glance and said to the man with the gravelly growl in voice, “He needs medical help right now. Ten million, right?”
“Ya.” grunted the man. “Call me Trampy.”
“Here.” Caleb handed him a check for ten million dollars that was also counterfeit. He had also gotten ten dollars of counterfeit money for entering something else, like getting into the dory.
“Thank you.” the man named Trampy thought he had just become ten million, five dollars richer. “’ere, where’s dat knife? Ah, dere it is. Hold dose ropes tight, young lady, while I’s a cuttin’ ’em.” he started cutting through the rope.
Caleb began untying the blindfold, but while he was doing that, he noticed that there was beeswax in Mr. Picissimus’s ears. He pulled it out and then did the same with the other ear, then untied the blindfold. The moment the blindfold was off, Mr. Picissimus woke up, and smiled at Caleb through his tired eyes, but expression was one of great happiness.
The ropes were cut, and blindfold gone, and the only thing left was the gag. Isabel took it out and relieved him of his silence. Immediately Mr. Picissimus said, “Son! How I’ve longed to see you. Miss Isabel, I can never thank you enough. How did you find me?”
“It’s a long story.” said Trampy. Everyone looked at him in surprise. “It took wots of energy on me part, leek turning out de lights at da show, or carryin’ ya out ta da truck, tying ya up, drivin’, rowin’ da boat when da matar stupped, lugging ya out ’ere, den da boat, diggin’ a ’uge hole under this dory, coverin’ Mrs. P in glue, almost shootin’ the kids. O’ Rodregez es staying low, da scoundrel!”he ranted on. “Then he said I could have two million, five hundred thousand dollars of the booty...”
Isabel stopped him. “Rodregez?” she asked. “Will Rodregez?” her heart skipped a beat.
“Da one and only, kid. Do ya know ’im?”
“Yes. He’s my step-dad.” stammered Isabel.
“Den go ’ome. ’E’s gonna be en big trouble with a capital T.” replied Trampy.
As Caleb, Mr. Picissimus, and Isabel walked to the life boat, Mr. Picissimus had to stop every ten yards to massage his legs that had been tied up and now cramped a lot. Finally, they rowed to the Queen of the Seven Seas, and sailed home.
Chapter 11: Home, Sweet Home
After sailing home, Mr. Picissimus, Caleb, and Isabel went to the hospital because Mr. Picissimus was very ill. When Caleb and Isabel went to visit him, they found that Mrs. Picissimus was in the same room as Mr. Picissimus. They both recovered, but Mr. Rodregez did not. As the judge gave the sentence (which was to pay for all the medical fees for the Picissimus’, give away 75% of his wealth to charity, and give his job to someone not so greedy.) He knew that his wife would hate him, and the rest of the world, too.
Mysteriously, Mr. Rodregez died only three weeks later. He was not shot, but had a heart attack in bed while he was sleeping, and died.
Chapter 12: All’s Well That Ends Well
Now that I’ve told you about my hometown mystery, there’s not much more to say. One year after the incident, Caleb and Isabel married and had a daughter, Jasmine, on their anniversary , and the five Picissimus’ were happy. Jasmine loved and solved mysteries and like her mother, and was strong, loyal, and thoughtful like Caleb. -
-By Danae Witte
Age 12
Wicca
I looked over my shoulders left and right to make sure no one was following me at this hour. I stared at the gazebo before me. I clutched my books closer as a brisk wind blew past me and rustled the branches and leaves around me.
The few books that I was carrying contained: The spell book of Witchcraft, The Wicca book of charms, and a series of witch incantations, recipes, hexes, and enchantments. I didn’t realize the capability of the spell I was about to conduct.
The book I was learning the instructions from was in Latin so I intended to cast another spell that would convert it to English to accomplish my purpose. So I had already learned this charm so I placed my hand on my spell book and conveyed “regulas” Which means basilisk in Latin which I unfortunately didn’t comprehend at the time.
The ground began to growl; I already knew that something had gone awry. All of a sudden a massive crevice opened and the gazebo I had been standing on a moment before had crumbled into nothing. Heat erupted out of the gap as though it came from the depths of Hell itself.
Luckily, I had fled from the gazebo and found safety under a willow tree as soon as the vibrations had begun. From the black hole rose a silvery red basilisk with hate and death in its flaming eyes. By the way a basilisk is an oversized snake that is the king of all serpents. It strikes fear even in the hearts of the greatest witches and wizards. The enchantment that I had intended to cast was “regulosis”grows a rose from the palm of your hand I thought “I wish that I had the ability to turn the basilisk into a puny worm so I could squash it under the heel of my high top.
Running down it’s back where red and orange flames so hot that they scorched the air around them. That’s when I thought of a spell that I learned when I was twelve years old. It was an enchantment to defeat darkness. I drew my hands up in front of me and I mumbled,”
In the darkness I shall find a light
That will cause you tremendous fright
All the way down to your core
So that you will live no more
The basilisk flew back as thought a giant hand reached down grabbed it and threw it.
It got right back up and hissed at me. The hiss sounded like bacon being placed on a frying pan. The oversized snake charged at me as fast as lightning. Its teeth appeared from the roof of its mouth and gold colored drops of venom hit the ground and made their own mini- explosions burning holes into the concrete like it was nothing. It lunged towards me and as soon as I thought I was done, it turned away. I relaxed slightly thinking I had won the battle. But I was wrong on so many levels.
As I put my hands down it whipped its flaming tail and I took a hard blow to the right side of my body. It felt like an atomic bomb had blown up a few feet away from me.
I was lying on the ground, bloodied, and I thought I was going to die. I was trying to think of a bewitchment that would require only one arm to cast that would obliterate this beast once and for all. Finally, it came to me- I raised my hand to my head and put my index and middle finger on my temple and applied a small amount of pressure thinking,” Azarathmetrian”. All of a sudden the great serpent shrieked as though a thousand daggers impaled it all over its metallic rainbow scaled. Even though it was a fire basilisk, it burst into flames and then into golden dust.
I felt a wave of relief and tried to stand. The satchel I was carrying had flown a few feet away from me during the scuffle. I crawled to my tote and rifled through it. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911. I told the operator that I had been hit by car then tried to make my way to the a place that was far away from the hole in the ground so they couldn’t connect me to the crevice where once a beautiful white gazebo with vines growing up the pillars once stood.
I was praying that I would never have to fight a beast as destructive as a basilisk.
-By Toni Mogensen
Age 12
The few books that I was carrying contained: The spell book of Witchcraft, The Wicca book of charms, and a series of witch incantations, recipes, hexes, and enchantments. I didn’t realize the capability of the spell I was about to conduct.
The book I was learning the instructions from was in Latin so I intended to cast another spell that would convert it to English to accomplish my purpose. So I had already learned this charm so I placed my hand on my spell book and conveyed “regulas” Which means basilisk in Latin which I unfortunately didn’t comprehend at the time.
The ground began to growl; I already knew that something had gone awry. All of a sudden a massive crevice opened and the gazebo I had been standing on a moment before had crumbled into nothing. Heat erupted out of the gap as though it came from the depths of Hell itself.
Luckily, I had fled from the gazebo and found safety under a willow tree as soon as the vibrations had begun. From the black hole rose a silvery red basilisk with hate and death in its flaming eyes. By the way a basilisk is an oversized snake that is the king of all serpents. It strikes fear even in the hearts of the greatest witches and wizards. The enchantment that I had intended to cast was “regulosis”grows a rose from the palm of your hand I thought “I wish that I had the ability to turn the basilisk into a puny worm so I could squash it under the heel of my high top.
Running down it’s back where red and orange flames so hot that they scorched the air around them. That’s when I thought of a spell that I learned when I was twelve years old. It was an enchantment to defeat darkness. I drew my hands up in front of me and I mumbled,”
In the darkness I shall find a light
That will cause you tremendous fright
All the way down to your core
So that you will live no more
The basilisk flew back as thought a giant hand reached down grabbed it and threw it.
It got right back up and hissed at me. The hiss sounded like bacon being placed on a frying pan. The oversized snake charged at me as fast as lightning. Its teeth appeared from the roof of its mouth and gold colored drops of venom hit the ground and made their own mini- explosions burning holes into the concrete like it was nothing. It lunged towards me and as soon as I thought I was done, it turned away. I relaxed slightly thinking I had won the battle. But I was wrong on so many levels.
As I put my hands down it whipped its flaming tail and I took a hard blow to the right side of my body. It felt like an atomic bomb had blown up a few feet away from me.
I was lying on the ground, bloodied, and I thought I was going to die. I was trying to think of a bewitchment that would require only one arm to cast that would obliterate this beast once and for all. Finally, it came to me- I raised my hand to my head and put my index and middle finger on my temple and applied a small amount of pressure thinking,” Azarathmetrian”. All of a sudden the great serpent shrieked as though a thousand daggers impaled it all over its metallic rainbow scaled. Even though it was a fire basilisk, it burst into flames and then into golden dust.
I felt a wave of relief and tried to stand. The satchel I was carrying had flown a few feet away from me during the scuffle. I crawled to my tote and rifled through it. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911. I told the operator that I had been hit by car then tried to make my way to the a place that was far away from the hole in the ground so they couldn’t connect me to the crevice where once a beautiful white gazebo with vines growing up the pillars once stood.
I was praying that I would never have to fight a beast as destructive as a basilisk.
-By Toni Mogensen
Age 12
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Short Cuts to Fifth Grade
The first day of school is always nerve racking, unless you make it fun. Take Michael Charles for example. Michael always wanted to find a way to make school fun. Like in third grade he tried to get a little laughter into the kids system by trying to make it snow, in the classroom! Instead Michael ended up with a substitute teacher for a month because Miss Ingle, his original teacher, slipped on the ice he poured and broke her nose. In fourth grade he was a little too exited to go to the beach for a field trip, so decided to bring the beach to school. Michael Charles was known as the sand man from that day on. But now Michael is in fifth grade where Miss Johnson will not have any enthusiasm for Michael’s behavior. As soon as Michael heard this, things got a little out of hand. Michael kind of took it the wrong way and tried to change Miss Johnsons mind. When the sixth graders, who had Miss Johnson, heard this they all wished Michael good luck.
For Michael the first day of fifth grade was, well let’s just say, it was awful! The kids were mean and the teacher was even worse. And they didn’t get recess as much as last year, in fact they didn’t get recess at all. Michael hated it, as well as everyone else in the classroom. The kids were miserable and they weren’t even in the middle of their first day yet. So, Michael knew, after the pop quiz that everyone flunked, it was time to take action. Some kids encouraged Michael and others not so much. But Michael didn’t care. He was so caught up in defeating the evil Miss Johnson, also known as Miss Joliath, that he hardly noticed them. On the second day Michael knew that today Miss Johnson would have at least a smirk on her face when she left Anmoring Elementary School. In order to accomplish this Michael had to get Miss Johnson out of the room. In order to do this Michael had to turn to a professional liar, his sister. Michael’s sister, Ann, was only six, but boy could she lie! She lied her way out of wearing an itchy, torn, unsown, shirt Michael’s blind grandma made for them by saying she was allergic to grandma’s smell. So Michael knew that if you needed a liar, Ann was the way to go. And Ann was all for it, you paid her. So Michael paid Ann sixty cents and they got down to business. “Miss Johnson! Miss Johnson!” Said Ann screaming into Miss Johnson’s classroom. “Someone is trying to eat your, umm, fat free fat cakes!” As soon as Miss Johnson fled Michael and his team popped in and readied the attack.
As Michael and his classmates waited in a giggly fashion, Miss Johnson had just walked in when…Splat! A pound of chowder came down on Miss Johnsons grey head of hair. Miss Johnson Screamed with extreme rage and anger. “Who did this?” Miss Johnson questioned. The class grew so quiet that you could only hear the heat coming from Miss Johnson. Again she asked in a hushed tone, “Who did this?” The kids all slowly pointed to Michael. “Michael Charles” Miss Johnson said in a not so surprised tone. “Y-ye-yes?” Michael stuttered to answer. Room 109 was silent. Finally after a minute of awkward silence Miss Johnson said quietly “Michael?” Slowly and nervously Michael answered “Y-yes?” With a fiery, angry, raging voice Miss Johnson replied “DETENTION!”
It was finally Friday, and the students in Miss Johnson’s class were very tired from all the lectures, pop quizzes, and just from listening to what she had to say. At home Michael got a lot of grief from his parents about getting a detention. His mom was disappointed. His dad figured Michael would get a detention sooner or later. And his sister, well, she just laughed. Michael knew it was wrong to get a detention, but the question in his mind was why he got the detention in the first place. All Michael was trying to do was put a smile on Miss Johnson’s saggy, old, grey face that was never lov-. Michael cut himself off to think. Miss Johnson isn’t married, is she? For a minute Michael had a cold chill come over him and thought. Maybe she stuffed an apple in his mouth and locked him in the teachers lounge or maybe…?
At school Michael’s curiosity grew to the point where he wouldn’t even talk to Miss Johnson. In class Michael just sat there staring at Miss Johnson. Every second she looked more and more like a criminal, well in his mind. “Michael” said Miss Johnson in a firm questioning way. “What is the square root of 144?” Michael understood the question and he knew the answer but it seemed like the only thing Michael could even think about saying was “You’re a criminal!” For some reason everyone turned around wide-eyed looking at him with there mouths open. Suddenly Michael realized that he didn’t just think it he said it too!
When class ended Miss Johnson asked Michael to stay behind. Right after she closed the door behind the other children, Michael knew exactly what this was about. “I am not impressed with your behavior, Michael. I am too busy to give you your detention that I’m cutting it off, because it is the beginning of the year.” Michael sighed a breath of relief. “But I do want to have a conference with your parents.” Michael breathed worriedly. “I would like to talk to you and your parents about calling me a criminal, having your sister lie to me, pouring chowder on my head, teaching my students disrespect! Honestly, Michael this has got to stop!” When Miss Johnson released him, Michael ran out of the room and went straight home, being very carful not to tell his parents.
When Michael got home he didn’t say hi or anything. He just ran to his room. As Michael was laying on his bed thinking, he knew, as he reviewed what Miss Johnson said, that he would have to change. So on Wednesday Michael was not Michael! His hair was gelled and he, for some reason, was wearing white strips! People laughed, stared, and teased Michael that day but he just laughed along with them. Miss Johnson was the most and only impressed person in the whole school. And for the first time, since first grade, Michael Charles studied! And when his best friend, Tyler, asked to hang out with him Michael said, “No, I have to study.” So everyone knew, after that, they needed to loosen him up.
At school nothing changed. The cafeteria was loud, the classrooms were insane, and Michael was, well, not Michael. Michael’s classmates were secretly planning a surprise that would get Michael Charles to finally CRACK! When Michael walked into his homeroom he walked into a party! There were streamers, party favors and a big sign? Michael read the sign which said,
YOU CAN ONLY PARTY IF YOU CAN HAVE FUN
Michael didn’t understand the sign so he just hopped in to join all the kids dancing and was pushed right back out.
“Didn’t you read the sign, Michael?” Asked Jessica Connors, a girl in Michael’s class. “Only fun people can come in.”
“But, but I am fun! Michael sighed. “Well what am I supposed to do while you all are having fun?” Asked Michael.
“You get to sit with Miss Johnson.” Declared Tyler.
So Michael went to sit with Miss Johnson and had a nice big chat.
Miss Johnson told him that she too was a fifth grader, whether he believed it or not. She also told Michael that even if he feels he should change himself just to make someone happier to remember that she always wants her students to express themselves. Miss Johnson told Michael that the things he did this year were good memories and were shortcuts through fifth grade. “Remember, Michael. School would go by quickly if you yourself made the school year fun and exiting and got some learning in” Miss Johnson laughed “And don’t hate the teacher.”
-By Emily Gaul
Age 11
For Michael the first day of fifth grade was, well let’s just say, it was awful! The kids were mean and the teacher was even worse. And they didn’t get recess as much as last year, in fact they didn’t get recess at all. Michael hated it, as well as everyone else in the classroom. The kids were miserable and they weren’t even in the middle of their first day yet. So, Michael knew, after the pop quiz that everyone flunked, it was time to take action. Some kids encouraged Michael and others not so much. But Michael didn’t care. He was so caught up in defeating the evil Miss Johnson, also known as Miss Joliath, that he hardly noticed them. On the second day Michael knew that today Miss Johnson would have at least a smirk on her face when she left Anmoring Elementary School. In order to accomplish this Michael had to get Miss Johnson out of the room. In order to do this Michael had to turn to a professional liar, his sister. Michael’s sister, Ann, was only six, but boy could she lie! She lied her way out of wearing an itchy, torn, unsown, shirt Michael’s blind grandma made for them by saying she was allergic to grandma’s smell. So Michael knew that if you needed a liar, Ann was the way to go. And Ann was all for it, you paid her. So Michael paid Ann sixty cents and they got down to business. “Miss Johnson! Miss Johnson!” Said Ann screaming into Miss Johnson’s classroom. “Someone is trying to eat your, umm, fat free fat cakes!” As soon as Miss Johnson fled Michael and his team popped in and readied the attack.
As Michael and his classmates waited in a giggly fashion, Miss Johnson had just walked in when…Splat! A pound of chowder came down on Miss Johnsons grey head of hair. Miss Johnson Screamed with extreme rage and anger. “Who did this?” Miss Johnson questioned. The class grew so quiet that you could only hear the heat coming from Miss Johnson. Again she asked in a hushed tone, “Who did this?” The kids all slowly pointed to Michael. “Michael Charles” Miss Johnson said in a not so surprised tone. “Y-ye-yes?” Michael stuttered to answer. Room 109 was silent. Finally after a minute of awkward silence Miss Johnson said quietly “Michael?” Slowly and nervously Michael answered “Y-yes?” With a fiery, angry, raging voice Miss Johnson replied “DETENTION!”
It was finally Friday, and the students in Miss Johnson’s class were very tired from all the lectures, pop quizzes, and just from listening to what she had to say. At home Michael got a lot of grief from his parents about getting a detention. His mom was disappointed. His dad figured Michael would get a detention sooner or later. And his sister, well, she just laughed. Michael knew it was wrong to get a detention, but the question in his mind was why he got the detention in the first place. All Michael was trying to do was put a smile on Miss Johnson’s saggy, old, grey face that was never lov-. Michael cut himself off to think. Miss Johnson isn’t married, is she? For a minute Michael had a cold chill come over him and thought. Maybe she stuffed an apple in his mouth and locked him in the teachers lounge or maybe…?
At school Michael’s curiosity grew to the point where he wouldn’t even talk to Miss Johnson. In class Michael just sat there staring at Miss Johnson. Every second she looked more and more like a criminal, well in his mind. “Michael” said Miss Johnson in a firm questioning way. “What is the square root of 144?” Michael understood the question and he knew the answer but it seemed like the only thing Michael could even think about saying was “You’re a criminal!” For some reason everyone turned around wide-eyed looking at him with there mouths open. Suddenly Michael realized that he didn’t just think it he said it too!
When class ended Miss Johnson asked Michael to stay behind. Right after she closed the door behind the other children, Michael knew exactly what this was about. “I am not impressed with your behavior, Michael. I am too busy to give you your detention that I’m cutting it off, because it is the beginning of the year.” Michael sighed a breath of relief. “But I do want to have a conference with your parents.” Michael breathed worriedly. “I would like to talk to you and your parents about calling me a criminal, having your sister lie to me, pouring chowder on my head, teaching my students disrespect! Honestly, Michael this has got to stop!” When Miss Johnson released him, Michael ran out of the room and went straight home, being very carful not to tell his parents.
When Michael got home he didn’t say hi or anything. He just ran to his room. As Michael was laying on his bed thinking, he knew, as he reviewed what Miss Johnson said, that he would have to change. So on Wednesday Michael was not Michael! His hair was gelled and he, for some reason, was wearing white strips! People laughed, stared, and teased Michael that day but he just laughed along with them. Miss Johnson was the most and only impressed person in the whole school. And for the first time, since first grade, Michael Charles studied! And when his best friend, Tyler, asked to hang out with him Michael said, “No, I have to study.” So everyone knew, after that, they needed to loosen him up.
At school nothing changed. The cafeteria was loud, the classrooms were insane, and Michael was, well, not Michael. Michael’s classmates were secretly planning a surprise that would get Michael Charles to finally CRACK! When Michael walked into his homeroom he walked into a party! There were streamers, party favors and a big sign? Michael read the sign which said,
YOU CAN ONLY PARTY IF YOU CAN HAVE FUN
Michael didn’t understand the sign so he just hopped in to join all the kids dancing and was pushed right back out.
“Didn’t you read the sign, Michael?” Asked Jessica Connors, a girl in Michael’s class. “Only fun people can come in.”
“But, but I am fun! Michael sighed. “Well what am I supposed to do while you all are having fun?” Asked Michael.
“You get to sit with Miss Johnson.” Declared Tyler.
So Michael went to sit with Miss Johnson and had a nice big chat.
Miss Johnson told him that she too was a fifth grader, whether he believed it or not. She also told Michael that even if he feels he should change himself just to make someone happier to remember that she always wants her students to express themselves. Miss Johnson told Michael that the things he did this year were good memories and were shortcuts through fifth grade. “Remember, Michael. School would go by quickly if you yourself made the school year fun and exiting and got some learning in” Miss Johnson laughed “And don’t hate the teacher.”
-By Emily Gaul
Age 11
The story of Blu the Basset Hound
The sun rose early on the little town of Summer. Our story begins in a small animal shelter called Paws. The first sound of the day was always the same wake – up call by a small grumpy man. Here, he was very mean to all the dogs in the shelter. Of course the owner, a sweet older man who knew nothing of his employees abusive ways. All of the other dogs but me tried to shrink into the corners of their cages every time he came down to feed us. That’s all he ever did was feed us. He never played with us or walked us in the field. He just dumped the cheapest dog food he could find on a plate and stuck it in the cage. I, a medium sized brown and white Basset Hound, was about the only one who was not afraid of him. Little did the man know I had a plan, a plan to escape this horrid prison. So when the man came towards my cage I was ready. As soon as he opened my cage I jumped out and ran for my life. “Hey get back here you little mutt!” The man screamed as he ran after me. But there was no stopping me! I had planned this great escape for years, and I was running so fast I almost tripped over my long floppy ears. At last I was at the door. I was so close to freedom. Until wham! “I got you now!” The man had trapped me under a net. I was stopped. A week had passed since I tried desperately to gain my freedom. I sat in my cage day after day and studied the man’s schedule- when he left for lunch, the exact moment he walked back in the door ect. I waited until I was absolutely sure the man had gone on his lunch break. I carefully slid the lock to the left and then down (A thing I so carefully watched the man do) A moment later I was walking out the door that the man carelessly left open. Finally! I was out of the shelter. I was so happy that I barked several times until I realized that someone would hear me barking and return me to the shelter. Everything looked and smelled so wonderful! The large Oak trees, the green grass, and of course the hot dog stands! A week later the greatness of everything around me was wearing off. Sure, in the day there were lots of things to see, but at night everything grew cold and dark. I was tired, homeless, and most importantly hungry. Things were not going as I planned. So when it started raining one night I ran. Soon my problem of getting wet turned into fright. I didn’t know where to turn next. I was scared of the lightning. I must have been whining loudly because a light flickered on in one of the houses and a girl stepped out on the porch with a giant pink umbrella. Hoping that the girl would take me in, I ran to her. She looked at me for a moment and then stepped aside leaving the door wide open. Even though I was dying to run inside the house, I still cautiously sniffed around, looked once more at the girl, and ran in. I soon came to love the girl. She was so kind to me, but still she had posted up “Found” posters all over town. I knew sooner or later the guy at the animal shelter would recognize my picture, and come to lead me to my doom. When the guy did come I was ready to defend my self. I soon found out I didn’t have to. The girl found out I lived at the shelter and adopted me! She gave me my name, Blu. I knew that I finally found a place that I could call home.
THE END
-By Aleah Chambers
Age 11
THE END
-By Aleah Chambers
Age 11
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