Kelsi entered the classroom just as the bell rang then did an about face and walked out the door towards the local grocery store (Food for Cheap) where she worked. The only thing more annoying than the store’s ridiculous mascot, Charlie the Chick (“Cheep, cheep, cheap food at Food for Cheap!) Was the fact that Kelsi had to do all the rotten jobs (mop the floor, wash the windows, re-stock food) instead of doing the easy jobs like ringing up food. (Yet another problem because of her technology “curse.”)
“Hey Lorna!” Kelsi considerably brightened as she saw her best friend walk in and put on her “Food for Cheap” apron on.
“Hey! Do you think I’d get in trouble if I put an arrow through Charlie’s head and cross out his eyes to make him dead?” Lorna smiled, pointing at the cartoon Charlie on her apron.
“Wouldn’t risk it, can you risk losing your job and college fund?” Kelsi asked, already knowing that Lorna would say no. Her greatest ambition in life was to go to college and become a science major.
Lorna shook her head. “To bad though, it would have been so refreshing!” She put her sunshine colored hair up with a bright yellow scrunchie.
“Girls!” Mr Merah, the assistant manager scolded. “You know your jobs! Get to work!”
“Yes sir!” Kelsi said as she and Lorna gathered together an eclectic assortment of mops, brooms, rags and cleaning solutions.
She and Lorna would work side by side down each aisle, talking the whole time.
“Do you remember your real parents?” Kelsi asked Lorna. Like Kelsi, Lorna was an orphan but had come to the orphanage when she was five. Lorna had been adopted by a couple with a large family (seven kids) that wanted an even eight but were unable to have more. She and Kelsi had become inseparable when Lorna was at the orphanage for a few months and had been best friends ever since.
“A little. I remember her telling me that she was sending me on a mission to save someone,” Lorna laughed, sounding like a chorus of tiny bells.
“What did she look like?” Kelsi scrubbed a particularly stained linoleum tile.
“I mostly remember what she was like, she was kind, her voice was soft. I do remember that she had long hair though. It was dark brown and hung around her face in soft waves.”
“Clean-up on aisle twelve,” Olivia’s voice came over the intercom. Kelsi sighed as she took a mop and bucket to aisle twelve. Mud was all over the floor as well as a dozen eggs. Kelsi quickly mopped up the mess and hurried back to Lorna.
“There’s something better than this, right?” Kelsi questioned, fearing the answer.
“Why do you think I’m going to college?” Lorna smiled then took Kelsi by the shoulders, her face completely serious. “Life stinks right now, but it’ll get better.”
“It just feels like I’ll never have a home, that I’ll be stuck here with no one that loves me,” Kelsi’s voice began to waver but she quickly got a hold of it.
“You’ll go home, I know it,” Lorna soothingly said.
But where is home? Kelsi wondered but decided she should fix the boxes on the cereal display then voice her concerns.
The two quietly worked together for the next three hours, sometimes talking about a new read or something someone said. “Home” was a subject that didn’t come up again but was still fresh in their minds. It always was though.
The shift ended and Kelsi began to walk home in the dying daylight. She’d come again tomorrow, the only day she didn’t work was Sunday. Her paycheck came tomorrow and the pennies she earned at Food for Cheap would be given to Matron. The money would then go to the bank, but for what? College was always a possibility but was it a worthwhile one? Kelsi valued education but she was by no means top of her class. The money she earned from Food for Cheap might cover books and tuition at a community college but what about housing? Scholarships were as out of her reach as a happy family and even college courses over the Internet were out because of “the curse.”
Stop wallowing in self-pity! Kelsi scolded herself as she climbed the stone-hewn stairs to the orphanage.
Laughter of yong girls playing tag was heard and Kelsi instantly brightened. They sounded so happy and carefree.
“Kelsi, can you help me?” Tara came up to Kelsi and tugged on her shirt.
“Sure,” Kelsi dropped her bag onto the ground and sat on a fallen log. “What’s the problem?”
“Long division,” Tara made a face. “I don’t get it.”
“Okay,’ Kelsi explained it several different times, patiently correcting and praising whenever it was needed. After watching Tara go through half her 30 math problems step-by-step, Kelsi got up to leave. “If you need any more help, just find me.”
“Okay, thanks!” Kelsi heard Tara yell as she pushed the giant oak door open.
St Bradwock’s had been around for (what seemed like) hundreds of years. Kelsi was sure that one of these days it would just crumble into a pile of stones. It had been around for so long because it was very sturdily built, most of it was made of granite rocks. Sometimes Kelsi felt a weird vibe come from the building, like something devastating had happened in the stone building, ages and ages before it had become a orphanage. Not something creepy, like a gruesome murder, but something terribly sad and life, no, world shattering. She knew it sounded insane, how could she know what happened years ago, but she knew she was right. When she got feelings like this there was no way she was wrong.
The old orphanage was almost like a maze, its labyrinth-like hallways often stranded yong girls trying to find their way back to their bedrooms after dinner. The girls would usually cry, waiting for an older girl to find them then guide them back to their room. Luckily, Kelsi knew the hallways as well as she knew the back of her own hand. Fourteen years at St. Bradwock’s had definitely been helpful in that category, she had even found a couple of secret hiding spots, some of them know of by others, some (she was pretty sure) long forgotten.
The winding staircase to the sleeping quarters creaked loudly. Quickly looking behind her, Kelsi felt her heart skip a beat. Even though she knew she wasn’t doing anything wrong, Kelsi always felt like she needed to be on her guard. At the orphanage it felt like the walls had eyes and ears. If anyone did anything it spread through the orphanage like wildfire. Though some girls, like Olivia, liked to be the center of attention, Kelsi liked to keep a low profile.
She finally reached the smaller dormitory where the girls fourteen and up slept. The dormitory for the high school girls were more private than the rooms for the younger girls. Floral quilts divided the rooms during the summer. When the blankets were needed during the winter thin, holey sheets were often used instead. Blankets were very scarce during the winter because the heating system frequently went on the fritz.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Planets: Chapter Two: Food for Cheap (Part One)
Okay, I'm so sorry, I haven't finished typing the rest (there isn't that much more to type but I've got fam over.) I post the rest later.
Kelsi found herself on a bridge, golden in color, from the planks that were there for people to tread across to the nails and bolts that held it together. Well, half way hold it together. She was sure that something else was holding the magnificently gleaming bridge together. The sky was velvety black, silver stars twinkling thousands of light-years away. Two green, blue brown and white globes, one in front and one in back of her, loomed in the sky, looking an awful lot like the satellite pictures of Nesserum. Kelsi felt a cold seep through her, a coldness like she had never felt before. Her gaze fell back to the breath-taking bridge. It was so long, longer than any bridge she had seen before and at the end she thought she saw someone; someone beckoning her. Kelsi put some of her weight on the suburb and began to walk slowly. She abruptly stepped backwards, as if the bridge was boiling hot magma. For some reason she as scared like something she didn’t want to meet was waiting for her. But what about that person? She could picture their face, longing to see her after all these years. She knew it sounded funny, but she could feel how much they missed her. Kelsi made up her mind, she would go . . .
“Brrringgg!” The wake-up call sounded, startling Kelsi who had been asleep in her bed. She had that dream again, the bridge dream. The bridge dream was nothing new; Kelsi had been having the dream since she was a baby. It was almost comforting, like a child’s security blanket brought peace and assurance.
“Brrrrriinnnngggg!” The bell sounded, slightly louder this time.
Kelsi groaned and rolled out of bed. She quickly dressed in a faded tee-shirt and a pair of jeans that had a hole in the knee. Both were donated clothing from a local clothes drive. She pulled out a pair of socks that had been dyed pink in the wash and double knotted the frayed shoelaces of her scuffed tennis shoes.
After gathering her school books and homework she put them in a worn black back-pack that was also donated. Kelsi finally got into the bathroom and hurriedly brushed her teeth. She glanced at her hair and decided to go it on the way to school. Grabbing a piece of toast with barely any apricot jam, Kelsi slung her back-pack over her shoulders and began to walk/run to school. Luckily the local high school wasn’t very far from the orphanage. The beat-up yellow bus zoomed by, leaving Kelsi coughing from the horrible fumes. Kelsi had gotten banned from the bus (the bus driver had realized that whenever Kelsi stepped on the bus it automatically broke down.) Having to walk to school was beginning to take it’s toll on Kelsi. She never really had time to try and make herself look more presentable and she was beginning to get tired of walking all the time.
As Kelsi neared Dilworth High she quickly pulled her straight/wavy hair back into a messy ponytail. She sighed. Another long day of torture was ahead.
“Kelsi, can you please turn you picture in?” Mrs. Eisenberg rudely awoke Kelsi from her daydreams. Kelsi had finally made it to Art, 4th period.
“Um . . . let me see if I can find it,” Kelsi rummaged around in her back-pack (whose strap had broken during 2nd period biology) until she found a beaten-up blue folder. “Here it is,” she pulled out a picture of the golden bridge from her dreams. A blue, green, brown and white globe lay at the end of the bridge, a silhouette of someone in front of the large globe. Golden glitter dusted the bridge’s planks and support beams and Kelsi’s name was neatly lettered in the corner.
“This is . . . beautiful,” Mrs. Eisenberg sighed, uncharacteristically quiet. “This is breath-taking! I especially enjoy the stars twinkling in the background. Excellent!” Mrs. Eisenberg found her voice as she tacked Kelsi’s picture up on the cork board and stepped back to admire the drawing. “Now class, see the fabulous use of glitter in this,” Mrs. Eisenberg began but was interrupted by the bell.
“Saved by the bell!” Kelsi muttered under her breath. “Thank goodness it’s lunchtime!”
Everyone scrambled to get out of the stuffy classroom. Kelsi gathered her art supplied and began to walk towards the cafeteria.
Kelsi stood in back of the very long (and very crowded) lunch line and waited for her turn.
“Do ya want butta on ya carrats?” The lunch lady asked, motioning a butter-filled ladle towards a pile of orange mush.
“Sure,” Kelsi nodded her thanks and handed her dollar-fifty to the lunch lady at the cash register.
“Enjoy your sloppy joe,” the lunch lady said as Kelsi walked off.
Kelsi set her plastic tray onto a deserted table in a forgotten corner. She pulled the plastic spork out of the napkin and started eating the carrots and sloppy joe. Putting her straw into the milk carton she gulped the cafeteria food down.
At least it’s better than orphanage food. She thought to herself as she wrapped the dry crumbly peanut butter cookie that resembled a hockey puck in her napkin. Kelsi put the wrapped cookie in her pocket.
“Afraid someone’s gonna steal your cookie?”
Kelsi groaned as she looked up. Why did that football jock Curtis have to come and bother her? Couldn’t he leave her alone for once? Kelsi pretended that she couldn’t hear him as she pulled out a library book.
“Hey, Little Orphan Annie, I’m talkin’ to you!” Curtis knocked the library book out of Kelsi’s hands.
“Go away Curtis! Don’t you have anything better to do?” Kelsi tried to say bravely but ended up whispering.
“What could be more mun than talkin’ to you?” Curtis leered.
“Isn’t there an English test coming up? If I were you, I’d be studying. Of course if I were you I would have started studying three months ago so I could actually pass!” Kelsi clamped her hands over her mouth in horror. Had she actually said that?
“Why you little,” Curtis lunged at Kelsi when the bell rang.
Kelsi grabbed her lunch tray and back pack, dodging a furious Curtis.
“That’s twice in one day!” Kelsi marveled at her excellent timing as she dumped her tray into the giant black garbage can.
“Get to class!” One of the Aids yelled as Kelsi finally reached the computer lab.
“Here’s your assignment, Kelsi,” Mr. Powell handed Kelsi a stack of papers and a clipboard. “Maybe you should stay out of the lab. Most of the computer you’ve . . . dealt with need some more rebooting.”
Kelsi understood. The school couldn’t afford for her to crash any more computers.
“Okay, I’ll just be outside the door,” Kelsi set her backpack down, got a pencil out and sad down on the worn carpeted floor, pretzel style.
“Oh, did you get in trouble?” A tween girl from the Jr. High asked as she walked by. Kelsi recognized her as the only child of the Drama teacher, Mrs. Larchmont.
“No,” Kelsi scowled at the girl.
“Then why aren’t you in the classroom?” Sniffed the girl. “Never mind, I rather not waste my time, especially on the likes of you. I need to see my mother about something too important for you orphan ears to hear,” and with a throw of her sparkly silver scarf the girl primly walked away.
Kelsi’s face flushed. Even a kid that was in seventh grade was mean to her! She felt like crying. Couldn’t at least someone be nice to her?
After jotting down her answer to a particularly hard question about how to make a hyperlink, Kelsi neatly folded the packet back and gave the partially done assignment to Mr. Powell.
“You can finish the packet on Monday,” Mr. Powell said to Kelsi. “Have a nice weekend.”
Kelsi almost laughed. Have a nice weekend, wasn’t that an oxymoron? Sure, it was nice to not have any school but between schoolwork, her overtime hours at her after-school job and chores at the orphanage, Kelsi didn’t have any time for “nice” weekends.
Kelsi entered the English classroom. 6th hour History hadn’t been too bad today, it was mostly notes on the Battle of Kerew in 1795. There was going to be a quiz on Monday so Mr. Cemalt hadn’t assigned any homework in hopes that the students would study instead.
“Welcome class,” Miss Apeed said in her gentle, yet firm voice. “Today we’re going to the library to work on an informative essay.” Some of the students groaned. “I do believe that one os also due for Mr. Cemalt’s class so he and I have agreed that you may turn in the same paper for both assignments.” She passed out a rubric. “The report will be on something that has to do with the history of Nesserum.”
Most of the students looked like they could care less but Kelsi was happy. Two assignments for the work of one? It couldn’t get much better than that, at least where school work was involved. The class shuffled down the hall towards Kelsi’s favorite place in the old high school, the library.
As Kelsi stepped into the book-filled room a comforting aroma welcomed her. The smell was th best smell Kelsi could think of, the spicy odor of old books and the clean smell of new books. Kelsi automatically went towards the non-fiction books and looked through the dusty volumes. She was trying to decide what her informative essay should be on when a particularly ancient, worn book caught her eye. The book looked like it hadn’t been opened in fifty years so Kelsi hefted the heavy volume onto a near-by table.
As she opened the leather-bound book a small puff of dust came up, making Kelsi cough and sneeze. She turned the yellowing pages to the title page and read what it said aloud.
“A History of the Sister Planets,” Kelsi breathed softly. “Sister Planets? There aren’t any other planets 30 zillion light years away, let alone Sister Planets. Somebody must have mis-shelved this,” but something compelled Kelsi to read on. She hadn’t skimmed more than a page and a half when Miss Apeed’s voice penetrated her thoughts.
“Okay everyone, please leave your books here or check them out. The bell is going to ring in ten minutes and I want to get back to class before then.” Kelsi frowned at the giant book. It was clearly fascinating and she really wanted to read it, even if it looked like it should be in the Sci-Fi section. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to lug the heavy book back to the orphanage. Would it even fit in her backpack? Kelsi finally decided she’d take it with her, maybe she’d get lucky and be able to salvage some grains of truth for the report.
She heaved the book onto the librarians desk.
“Can I check this out?” Kelsi questioned.
Ms. Cag frowned at Kelsi, her eyes slits behind her wire-rimmed bifocals. “That book is an antique! I only check out books that old to people with the cleanest records, let me check the computer.” She looked at the screen then looked back at Kelsi. “Only the most trustworthy students are allowed to even look at those books and considering your previous record you aren’t allowed to check out that book.” Her grating voice was as steely as her gray colored hair.
Kelsi sighed. So she accidently tore a page of a picture book out when she was eight and had an over-due book when she was ten! That was years ago! “Alright,” Kelsi looked longingly at the book as she collected her bag and went back to the English classroom.
Chapter Two: Food for Cheap
Kelsi found herself on a bridge, golden in color, from the planks that were there for people to tread across to the nails and bolts that held it together. Well, half way hold it together. She was sure that something else was holding the magnificently gleaming bridge together. The sky was velvety black, silver stars twinkling thousands of light-years away. Two green, blue brown and white globes, one in front and one in back of her, loomed in the sky, looking an awful lot like the satellite pictures of Nesserum. Kelsi felt a cold seep through her, a coldness like she had never felt before. Her gaze fell back to the breath-taking bridge. It was so long, longer than any bridge she had seen before and at the end she thought she saw someone; someone beckoning her. Kelsi put some of her weight on the suburb and began to walk slowly. She abruptly stepped backwards, as if the bridge was boiling hot magma. For some reason she as scared like something she didn’t want to meet was waiting for her. But what about that person? She could picture their face, longing to see her after all these years. She knew it sounded funny, but she could feel how much they missed her. Kelsi made up her mind, she would go . . .
“Brrringgg!” The wake-up call sounded, startling Kelsi who had been asleep in her bed. She had that dream again, the bridge dream. The bridge dream was nothing new; Kelsi had been having the dream since she was a baby. It was almost comforting, like a child’s security blanket brought peace and assurance.
“Brrrrriinnnngggg!” The bell sounded, slightly louder this time.
Kelsi groaned and rolled out of bed. She quickly dressed in a faded tee-shirt and a pair of jeans that had a hole in the knee. Both were donated clothing from a local clothes drive. She pulled out a pair of socks that had been dyed pink in the wash and double knotted the frayed shoelaces of her scuffed tennis shoes.
After gathering her school books and homework she put them in a worn black back-pack that was also donated. Kelsi finally got into the bathroom and hurriedly brushed her teeth. She glanced at her hair and decided to go it on the way to school. Grabbing a piece of toast with barely any apricot jam, Kelsi slung her back-pack over her shoulders and began to walk/run to school. Luckily the local high school wasn’t very far from the orphanage. The beat-up yellow bus zoomed by, leaving Kelsi coughing from the horrible fumes. Kelsi had gotten banned from the bus (the bus driver had realized that whenever Kelsi stepped on the bus it automatically broke down.) Having to walk to school was beginning to take it’s toll on Kelsi. She never really had time to try and make herself look more presentable and she was beginning to get tired of walking all the time.
As Kelsi neared Dilworth High she quickly pulled her straight/wavy hair back into a messy ponytail. She sighed. Another long day of torture was ahead.
“Kelsi, can you please turn you picture in?” Mrs. Eisenberg rudely awoke Kelsi from her daydreams. Kelsi had finally made it to Art, 4th period.
“Um . . . let me see if I can find it,” Kelsi rummaged around in her back-pack (whose strap had broken during 2nd period biology) until she found a beaten-up blue folder. “Here it is,” she pulled out a picture of the golden bridge from her dreams. A blue, green, brown and white globe lay at the end of the bridge, a silhouette of someone in front of the large globe. Golden glitter dusted the bridge’s planks and support beams and Kelsi’s name was neatly lettered in the corner.
“This is . . . beautiful,” Mrs. Eisenberg sighed, uncharacteristically quiet. “This is breath-taking! I especially enjoy the stars twinkling in the background. Excellent!” Mrs. Eisenberg found her voice as she tacked Kelsi’s picture up on the cork board and stepped back to admire the drawing. “Now class, see the fabulous use of glitter in this,” Mrs. Eisenberg began but was interrupted by the bell.
“Saved by the bell!” Kelsi muttered under her breath. “Thank goodness it’s lunchtime!”
Everyone scrambled to get out of the stuffy classroom. Kelsi gathered her art supplied and began to walk towards the cafeteria.
Kelsi stood in back of the very long (and very crowded) lunch line and waited for her turn.
“Do ya want butta on ya carrats?” The lunch lady asked, motioning a butter-filled ladle towards a pile of orange mush.
“Sure,” Kelsi nodded her thanks and handed her dollar-fifty to the lunch lady at the cash register.
“Enjoy your sloppy joe,” the lunch lady said as Kelsi walked off.
Kelsi set her plastic tray onto a deserted table in a forgotten corner. She pulled the plastic spork out of the napkin and started eating the carrots and sloppy joe. Putting her straw into the milk carton she gulped the cafeteria food down.
At least it’s better than orphanage food. She thought to herself as she wrapped the dry crumbly peanut butter cookie that resembled a hockey puck in her napkin. Kelsi put the wrapped cookie in her pocket.
“Afraid someone’s gonna steal your cookie?”
Kelsi groaned as she looked up. Why did that football jock Curtis have to come and bother her? Couldn’t he leave her alone for once? Kelsi pretended that she couldn’t hear him as she pulled out a library book.
“Hey, Little Orphan Annie, I’m talkin’ to you!” Curtis knocked the library book out of Kelsi’s hands.
“Go away Curtis! Don’t you have anything better to do?” Kelsi tried to say bravely but ended up whispering.
“What could be more mun than talkin’ to you?” Curtis leered.
“Isn’t there an English test coming up? If I were you, I’d be studying. Of course if I were you I would have started studying three months ago so I could actually pass!” Kelsi clamped her hands over her mouth in horror. Had she actually said that?
“Why you little,” Curtis lunged at Kelsi when the bell rang.
Kelsi grabbed her lunch tray and back pack, dodging a furious Curtis.
“That’s twice in one day!” Kelsi marveled at her excellent timing as she dumped her tray into the giant black garbage can.
“Get to class!” One of the Aids yelled as Kelsi finally reached the computer lab.
“Here’s your assignment, Kelsi,” Mr. Powell handed Kelsi a stack of papers and a clipboard. “Maybe you should stay out of the lab. Most of the computer you’ve . . . dealt with need some more rebooting.”
Kelsi understood. The school couldn’t afford for her to crash any more computers.
“Okay, I’ll just be outside the door,” Kelsi set her backpack down, got a pencil out and sad down on the worn carpeted floor, pretzel style.
“Oh, did you get in trouble?” A tween girl from the Jr. High asked as she walked by. Kelsi recognized her as the only child of the Drama teacher, Mrs. Larchmont.
“No,” Kelsi scowled at the girl.
“Then why aren’t you in the classroom?” Sniffed the girl. “Never mind, I rather not waste my time, especially on the likes of you. I need to see my mother about something too important for you orphan ears to hear,” and with a throw of her sparkly silver scarf the girl primly walked away.
Kelsi’s face flushed. Even a kid that was in seventh grade was mean to her! She felt like crying. Couldn’t at least someone be nice to her?
After jotting down her answer to a particularly hard question about how to make a hyperlink, Kelsi neatly folded the packet back and gave the partially done assignment to Mr. Powell.
“You can finish the packet on Monday,” Mr. Powell said to Kelsi. “Have a nice weekend.”
Kelsi almost laughed. Have a nice weekend, wasn’t that an oxymoron? Sure, it was nice to not have any school but between schoolwork, her overtime hours at her after-school job and chores at the orphanage, Kelsi didn’t have any time for “nice” weekends.
Kelsi entered the English classroom. 6th hour History hadn’t been too bad today, it was mostly notes on the Battle of Kerew in 1795. There was going to be a quiz on Monday so Mr. Cemalt hadn’t assigned any homework in hopes that the students would study instead.
“Welcome class,” Miss Apeed said in her gentle, yet firm voice. “Today we’re going to the library to work on an informative essay.” Some of the students groaned. “I do believe that one os also due for Mr. Cemalt’s class so he and I have agreed that you may turn in the same paper for both assignments.” She passed out a rubric. “The report will be on something that has to do with the history of Nesserum.”
Most of the students looked like they could care less but Kelsi was happy. Two assignments for the work of one? It couldn’t get much better than that, at least where school work was involved. The class shuffled down the hall towards Kelsi’s favorite place in the old high school, the library.
As Kelsi stepped into the book-filled room a comforting aroma welcomed her. The smell was th best smell Kelsi could think of, the spicy odor of old books and the clean smell of new books. Kelsi automatically went towards the non-fiction books and looked through the dusty volumes. She was trying to decide what her informative essay should be on when a particularly ancient, worn book caught her eye. The book looked like it hadn’t been opened in fifty years so Kelsi hefted the heavy volume onto a near-by table.
As she opened the leather-bound book a small puff of dust came up, making Kelsi cough and sneeze. She turned the yellowing pages to the title page and read what it said aloud.
“A History of the Sister Planets,” Kelsi breathed softly. “Sister Planets? There aren’t any other planets 30 zillion light years away, let alone Sister Planets. Somebody must have mis-shelved this,” but something compelled Kelsi to read on. She hadn’t skimmed more than a page and a half when Miss Apeed’s voice penetrated her thoughts.
“Okay everyone, please leave your books here or check them out. The bell is going to ring in ten minutes and I want to get back to class before then.” Kelsi frowned at the giant book. It was clearly fascinating and she really wanted to read it, even if it looked like it should be in the Sci-Fi section. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to lug the heavy book back to the orphanage. Would it even fit in her backpack? Kelsi finally decided she’d take it with her, maybe she’d get lucky and be able to salvage some grains of truth for the report.
She heaved the book onto the librarians desk.
“Can I check this out?” Kelsi questioned.
Ms. Cag frowned at Kelsi, her eyes slits behind her wire-rimmed bifocals. “That book is an antique! I only check out books that old to people with the cleanest records, let me check the computer.” She looked at the screen then looked back at Kelsi. “Only the most trustworthy students are allowed to even look at those books and considering your previous record you aren’t allowed to check out that book.” Her grating voice was as steely as her gray colored hair.
Kelsi sighed. So she accidently tore a page of a picture book out when she was eight and had an over-due book when she was ten! That was years ago! “Alright,” Kelsi looked longingly at the book as she collected her bag and went back to the English classroom.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Planets: Chapter One: Lost and Found
Okay everyone, I'm finally going to start posting a novel (or a chapter book, whatever you call them.) This ISN'T the book I was talking about posting (you know, the swan one) this is one that I've had the idea for a very long time. (I've refered to it before, it was known as Magic before but I decided Planets was a better title, at least for now.) Since it's the beginning it's a little tedious so bear with me. It gets better, I promise. You know the drill, questions, critisim and/or comments are requested.
“What is it?” Peter grumbled. He had been examining some brown fungus that had sprouted from a decaying pine tree.
Sarah pointed to a bundle of home-spun blankets. “I know you don’t like to be disturbed when you’re about to make a major breakthrough in science but you have to see this,” she reached down and picked up the bundle. Sarah adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses ad looked carefully at the blankets. She carefully moved a blanket aside and gasped. “Look how sweet!” A baby about one and a half years old lay in the blanket sleeping soundly.
Peter glanced at the baby. “You’re not thinking of keeping it, are you?” The couple didn’t have any children yet, mostly since botany had been their main focus.
“Her, Peter and yes, we are going to keep her for a while, until we figure out what to do with her.” The two began to walk towards their small house, just a little ways away.
“I don’t know Sarah,” Peter looked at the baby uneasily. I just have this feeling that we shouldn’t keep her.”
“Nonsense,” Sarah looked at Peter with a hard glance. “It’s not like she’s going to grow poisonous fangs and kill us. Babies are completely harmless. We’ll keep her until we come up with something.”
“Hello,” Matron looked at the young couple with a small baby. “What is it you wanted to see me about?”
The woman began to talk first. Several blonde stands of hair had escaped the bun at the nape of her neck. She brushed them aside. “My name is Sarah Wagner and this is my husband Peter Wagner. The other day we found this baby in the woods near here. I wanted to keep her but my husband isn’t quite ready for children,” Sarah gave Peter a melancholy look. Matron could tell that this subject had been a matter of discussion for some time. “We figured that this was the best place for her.”
Matron looked at the child sadly. “There isn’t much room for new children. Are you sure that there is no way you can keep this child?”
“We are absolutely sure,” Curt’s voice was resolute. “There ’s something about this baby that . . . there’s no possible way.”
“Well, I’m sure we can make room for her. Does she have a name?”
“Yes, we found “Kelsi” embroidered on one of the blankets that we found her wrapped in. Thank you,” Sarah gave Kelsi a kiss then left the office, hand-in-hand with her husband.
Kelsi gazed out the window. A couple was taking a small girl with blonde curls and blue eyes to their Sedan. She looked away quickly, not wanting tears to come to her eyes. It’s not fair! She wanted to shout. Why does a little kid get to get out of here but I don’t?
“Hey Kelsi,” a girl with perfectly straight hair called. “Want to listen to the top song on the radio? Oh never mind, you might blow it up!” She laughed, her strawberry blonde ponytail swishing.
Kelsi felt her face grow hot. It wasn’t her fault that almost anything electronic-related blew a fuse when she touched it! “At least things don’t die when I look at them, Olivia,” she retorted.
“Whatever,” Olivia turned away, attention turned to the latest songs on the radio.
Kelsi sighed. Sometimes she just felt like strangling Olivia. She couldn’t stand the preppy cheerleader. How could an orphan like herself become the captain of the cheer squad? It was totally beyond her.
Kelsi shifted her thoughts back to the geometry equation that she was working on before she had gotten distracted. She pushed a strand of muddy brown hair behind her ear and tapped her pencil against her cheek. At least geometry was semi-easy compared to her computer class. After all, how could she pass her computer class when she was banned from the lab? Even the simplest of calculators self-destructed in her hands. There she went again, her mind had yet again drifted back to electronics. It wasn’t just electronic though. Typewriters, cars and even gas-powered stoves would stop working when she touched them. It was as if Kelsi wasn’t even supposed to be in this time period.
A loud bell sounded, letting everyone know that dinner was served. The hallways were soon filled with ravenous girls running to the mess hall. The girls sat in long rows and began to eat.
Kelsi frowned at the meager food. Each year more and more girls came to St. Bradwock’s and it was becoming harder and harder for the orphanage to provide enough food. Most of the food was given to the younger children anyway. Older children like Kelsi were expected to get jobs in the town and eat the cafeteria food at school. The orphanage staff worked hard to stretch what little food they had. Almost anything the orphans had to eat or drink was very watered down. Kelsi looked at the bread that was served with the watery soup. The thin slice she was given was almost see-through. She slowly ate the food, trying to make it last so she could fool her stomach into thinking it was full.
Mmmm . . . turnip soup! Kelsi thought. Nothing better than the thin, bitter, cold soup! Now stop it! She silently rebuked herself. You need to stop being so sarcastic. At least you’re not blowing anything up.
Dinner was always a fast affair, the girls ate what little food they had quickly. After dinner the girls were expected to finish their homework and get ready for bed, lights were out at eight. Of course, there was always stuff going on after eight, lots of girls would stay up gossiping until midnight.
“‘Night Kelsi!” A little nine-year-old girl with a lisp shouted.
“‘Night Tara,” Kelsi waved at the little girl with short, straw colored hair. She tried closing her eyes.
Her mind wandered, thinking about her past. Matron had told her about how a couple not ready for children had found her but she knew that there must be more to the story. Did the couple know her parents? Why didn’t her parents want her? Were her parents even alive? Questions buzzed through her head, like a swarm of angry bees. Kelsi heard the clock chime nine times. It was nine’o’clock. Her eye-lids became heavy and Kelsi fell fast asleep.
Planets
By: Ginny Romney
Chapter One: Lost and Found
“Peter, look at this,” Sarah beckoned to her husband.By: Ginny Romney
Chapter One: Lost and Found
“What is it?” Peter grumbled. He had been examining some brown fungus that had sprouted from a decaying pine tree.
Sarah pointed to a bundle of home-spun blankets. “I know you don’t like to be disturbed when you’re about to make a major breakthrough in science but you have to see this,” she reached down and picked up the bundle. Sarah adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses ad looked carefully at the blankets. She carefully moved a blanket aside and gasped. “Look how sweet!” A baby about one and a half years old lay in the blanket sleeping soundly.
Peter glanced at the baby. “You’re not thinking of keeping it, are you?” The couple didn’t have any children yet, mostly since botany had been their main focus.
“Her, Peter and yes, we are going to keep her for a while, until we figure out what to do with her.” The two began to walk towards their small house, just a little ways away.
“I don’t know Sarah,” Peter looked at the baby uneasily. I just have this feeling that we shouldn’t keep her.”
“Nonsense,” Sarah looked at Peter with a hard glance. “It’s not like she’s going to grow poisonous fangs and kill us. Babies are completely harmless. We’ll keep her until we come up with something.”
“Hello,” Matron looked at the young couple with a small baby. “What is it you wanted to see me about?”
The woman began to talk first. Several blonde stands of hair had escaped the bun at the nape of her neck. She brushed them aside. “My name is Sarah Wagner and this is my husband Peter Wagner. The other day we found this baby in the woods near here. I wanted to keep her but my husband isn’t quite ready for children,” Sarah gave Peter a melancholy look. Matron could tell that this subject had been a matter of discussion for some time. “We figured that this was the best place for her.”
Matron looked at the child sadly. “There isn’t much room for new children. Are you sure that there is no way you can keep this child?”
“We are absolutely sure,” Curt’s voice was resolute. “There ’s something about this baby that . . . there’s no possible way.”
“Well, I’m sure we can make room for her. Does she have a name?”
“Yes, we found “Kelsi” embroidered on one of the blankets that we found her wrapped in. Thank you,” Sarah gave Kelsi a kiss then left the office, hand-in-hand with her husband.
Kelsi gazed out the window. A couple was taking a small girl with blonde curls and blue eyes to their Sedan. She looked away quickly, not wanting tears to come to her eyes. It’s not fair! She wanted to shout. Why does a little kid get to get out of here but I don’t?
“Hey Kelsi,” a girl with perfectly straight hair called. “Want to listen to the top song on the radio? Oh never mind, you might blow it up!” She laughed, her strawberry blonde ponytail swishing.
Kelsi felt her face grow hot. It wasn’t her fault that almost anything electronic-related blew a fuse when she touched it! “At least things don’t die when I look at them, Olivia,” she retorted.
“Whatever,” Olivia turned away, attention turned to the latest songs on the radio.
Kelsi sighed. Sometimes she just felt like strangling Olivia. She couldn’t stand the preppy cheerleader. How could an orphan like herself become the captain of the cheer squad? It was totally beyond her.
Kelsi shifted her thoughts back to the geometry equation that she was working on before she had gotten distracted. She pushed a strand of muddy brown hair behind her ear and tapped her pencil against her cheek. At least geometry was semi-easy compared to her computer class. After all, how could she pass her computer class when she was banned from the lab? Even the simplest of calculators self-destructed in her hands. There she went again, her mind had yet again drifted back to electronics. It wasn’t just electronic though. Typewriters, cars and even gas-powered stoves would stop working when she touched them. It was as if Kelsi wasn’t even supposed to be in this time period.
A loud bell sounded, letting everyone know that dinner was served. The hallways were soon filled with ravenous girls running to the mess hall. The girls sat in long rows and began to eat.
Kelsi frowned at the meager food. Each year more and more girls came to St. Bradwock’s and it was becoming harder and harder for the orphanage to provide enough food. Most of the food was given to the younger children anyway. Older children like Kelsi were expected to get jobs in the town and eat the cafeteria food at school. The orphanage staff worked hard to stretch what little food they had. Almost anything the orphans had to eat or drink was very watered down. Kelsi looked at the bread that was served with the watery soup. The thin slice she was given was almost see-through. She slowly ate the food, trying to make it last so she could fool her stomach into thinking it was full.
Mmmm . . . turnip soup! Kelsi thought. Nothing better than the thin, bitter, cold soup! Now stop it! She silently rebuked herself. You need to stop being so sarcastic. At least you’re not blowing anything up.
Dinner was always a fast affair, the girls ate what little food they had quickly. After dinner the girls were expected to finish their homework and get ready for bed, lights were out at eight. Of course, there was always stuff going on after eight, lots of girls would stay up gossiping until midnight.
“‘Night Kelsi!” A little nine-year-old girl with a lisp shouted.
“‘Night Tara,” Kelsi waved at the little girl with short, straw colored hair. She tried closing her eyes.
Her mind wandered, thinking about her past. Matron had told her about how a couple not ready for children had found her but she knew that there must be more to the story. Did the couple know her parents? Why didn’t her parents want her? Were her parents even alive? Questions buzzed through her head, like a swarm of angry bees. Kelsi heard the clock chime nine times. It was nine’o’clock. Her eye-lids became heavy and Kelsi fell fast asleep.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Contest Story- Operation: Kitty Save #4
Okay, here is the contest story I promised. This isn't the story I was going to write, I was going to write a fiction story but since the story I had in mind wasn't all worked out so I wrote a personal essay. Yes, this story actually DID happen and (sadly) it's one of the more exciting and memorable moments of my short life. Enjoy! (Critisim and questions are encouraged.)
“Did you hear that?” Kendle, my sister, asked. “It sounds like something’s up in the attic.”
“Probably rats,” I replied, working on a particularly hard problem from my Pre-Algebra homework. “I hate it when Mrs. Casillas gives us math homework on the weekends!”
“No, it sounds like mewing,” Kendle’s face lit up. “Do you think it’s another litter of kitties?”
“Wow, wouldn’t that be something! That would be litter number four!” I smiled, thinking about another bunch of cute kittens running around the backyard. “Of course, we shouldn’t get our hopes up too high.” It was too late though. Kendle and I were pros at saving kitties after rescuing three litters and we listened carefully, trying to track the kitties. After listening for a while we heard a noise that confirmed our hopes. Kitties were above the family room, in the attic where their mother left them.
“I’ll call the Rescue Squad!” I grabbed the phone and called my cousin Lance and his best friend, Dace. The two were home from college because of the weekend. Once they walked across the street from their house to ours, we began the operation.
“We’re going to have to go up into the attic,” instructed Lance, like a general to his troops. “Have any fallen into the walls?”
“Not yet,” I replied. “We don’t know how old they are, but I think they can walk around.” Everyone knew the urgency of the situation. Grandpa was getting tired of cutting holes in the wall each time a kitty fell down into one. He promised us that next time it happened he’d save the kitten then drown it in Kearny Lake. We weren’t sure if he was kidding or not, but we didn’t want to take any chances.
“Do you guys have a box?” Dace asked.
“Yeah, we have all the necessary equipment.” Kendle smiled as she held a box lined with towels.
After spending half an hour searching for a pair of flashlights, Lance and Dace climbed a ladder from the laundry room to the attic. Kendle and I heard them as they balanced across the beams, making sure to not fall thorough the ceiling. They searched every corner of the attic with the heavy-duty flashlights.
“They worst part is waiting!” Kendle exclaimed as we waited at the other end of the ladder, sitting on piles of dirty clothes. We began to nervously pace around. What if one of the kitties fell into the walls? That’s wasn’t the only dangerous factor. Being so close to the desert had proven to be a problem while raising kitties. Many kittens “disappeared” leaving heartache. Even though we had “rescued” 18 kittens only two that we knew of had survived, mostly because we had given them away to a lady who lovingly fed her cats cream. Would we rescue the kitties only to have them eaten by coyotes?
“We found them!” Dace yelled. Kendle and I squealed.
“How many?” I asked, crossing my fingers. The last three litters there were six kitties each time. Another six would be great!
“There’s only three right here, but we’re sure that there’s more. Are you guys ready for them?”
“Yeah,” I climbed up to the third step and grabbed the cute little bundles of fur that Dace handed to me, and then I passed them to Kendle. Dace and Lance tracked down the remaining two kitties and came down from the attic, covered in sweat and dust from the insulation. Even though it was barely the beginning of April, the temperature was already hot, typical for Kearny, Arizona. It was beginning to get dark, and I marveled at how fast the time had passed since we had discovered the kittens at about four in the afternoon.
We all sat down on the three couches that surrounded the coffee table with the box of kittens, two silver, two brown-black and one orange (all of them tabbies.)
“Here,” I passed out the four washcloths that that I had gotten from the kitchen. Everyone grabbed a kitty, Lance grabbed two, and we began to wash the them, admiring them (and washing off whatever was in the attic) for the first time. We each took turns with each kitty but soon found favorites.
Kendle found a kitty formula on the Internet that was made out of egg yolks, oil, and milk and put it into a makeshift bottle and a special cat bottle from the last time we had to hand-feed the kitties. We took turns feeding them, making sure that they ate as much as they could.
“Has anyone come up with any names?” I asked. Kitty naming was easily one of the most fun parts of raising kitties.
“No more Harry Potter names,” said Kendle. “Last time we named kitties after Harry Potter names they all died.” The mood quickly became somber. One of the kitties from the last litter was named Sirius. Unfortunately the kitty wouldn’t switch to dry food like the rest of the kittens and starved itself to death. Lance was the one to break the solemn atmosphere.
“How about Dragonball Z names?” Asked Lance. Dragonball Z was one of his favorite things.
“We did that last time, the results weren’t too good,” I laughed. The last litter, our Uncle John and Aunt Amy had given each kitty a Dragonball Z related name but some of the kitties were renamed after everyone opted for different names, most of them Harry Potter characters.
“We should name this one Shy Guy; it’s not as loud as the others,” Kendle suggested. The fluffy brown and black kitten in her arms was obviously her favorite.
We had gotten out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide to clean the kitties’ eyes. A bunch of gunk was coming from their eyes; we guessed that it was from the insulation in the attic. Dace was the best at removing the gunk so far. The rest of us were kind of scared that we’d hurt the kitties.
“This one’s name should be Houdini.” We laughed as the other black and brown kitty leaped from the box to Lance’s pant leg. As time went by we all suggested more names but finally agreed on: Carrot, Shy Guy, Houdini, Loudmouth, and Mittens. After Lance and Dace left, Kendle and I got out a heater from a closet and put the kitty box by it.
“Good-night kitties,” I smiled, realizing that the next couple of weeks would be busy while we all took care of the kittens, barely three weeks old. I knew that the kitties were safe for now and that even though we rescued them they still might die, but the important thing was that we tried our best. I switched off the lights and went downstairs to the basement. A day that started off to be a boring Saturday of homework turned out to be a rewarding rescue mission.
“Did you hear that?” Kendle, my sister, asked. “It sounds like something’s up in the attic.”
“Probably rats,” I replied, working on a particularly hard problem from my Pre-Algebra homework. “I hate it when Mrs. Casillas gives us math homework on the weekends!”
“No, it sounds like mewing,” Kendle’s face lit up. “Do you think it’s another litter of kitties?”
“Wow, wouldn’t that be something! That would be litter number four!” I smiled, thinking about another bunch of cute kittens running around the backyard. “Of course, we shouldn’t get our hopes up too high.” It was too late though. Kendle and I were pros at saving kitties after rescuing three litters and we listened carefully, trying to track the kitties. After listening for a while we heard a noise that confirmed our hopes. Kitties were above the family room, in the attic where their mother left them.
“I’ll call the Rescue Squad!” I grabbed the phone and called my cousin Lance and his best friend, Dace. The two were home from college because of the weekend. Once they walked across the street from their house to ours, we began the operation.
“We’re going to have to go up into the attic,” instructed Lance, like a general to his troops. “Have any fallen into the walls?”
“Not yet,” I replied. “We don’t know how old they are, but I think they can walk around.” Everyone knew the urgency of the situation. Grandpa was getting tired of cutting holes in the wall each time a kitty fell down into one. He promised us that next time it happened he’d save the kitten then drown it in Kearny Lake. We weren’t sure if he was kidding or not, but we didn’t want to take any chances.
“Do you guys have a box?” Dace asked.
“Yeah, we have all the necessary equipment.” Kendle smiled as she held a box lined with towels.
After spending half an hour searching for a pair of flashlights, Lance and Dace climbed a ladder from the laundry room to the attic. Kendle and I heard them as they balanced across the beams, making sure to not fall thorough the ceiling. They searched every corner of the attic with the heavy-duty flashlights.
“They worst part is waiting!” Kendle exclaimed as we waited at the other end of the ladder, sitting on piles of dirty clothes. We began to nervously pace around. What if one of the kitties fell into the walls? That’s wasn’t the only dangerous factor. Being so close to the desert had proven to be a problem while raising kitties. Many kittens “disappeared” leaving heartache. Even though we had “rescued” 18 kittens only two that we knew of had survived, mostly because we had given them away to a lady who lovingly fed her cats cream. Would we rescue the kitties only to have them eaten by coyotes?
“We found them!” Dace yelled. Kendle and I squealed.
“How many?” I asked, crossing my fingers. The last three litters there were six kitties each time. Another six would be great!
“There’s only three right here, but we’re sure that there’s more. Are you guys ready for them?”
“Yeah,” I climbed up to the third step and grabbed the cute little bundles of fur that Dace handed to me, and then I passed them to Kendle. Dace and Lance tracked down the remaining two kitties and came down from the attic, covered in sweat and dust from the insulation. Even though it was barely the beginning of April, the temperature was already hot, typical for Kearny, Arizona. It was beginning to get dark, and I marveled at how fast the time had passed since we had discovered the kittens at about four in the afternoon.
We all sat down on the three couches that surrounded the coffee table with the box of kittens, two silver, two brown-black and one orange (all of them tabbies.)
“Here,” I passed out the four washcloths that that I had gotten from the kitchen. Everyone grabbed a kitty, Lance grabbed two, and we began to wash the them, admiring them (and washing off whatever was in the attic) for the first time. We each took turns with each kitty but soon found favorites.
Kendle found a kitty formula on the Internet that was made out of egg yolks, oil, and milk and put it into a makeshift bottle and a special cat bottle from the last time we had to hand-feed the kitties. We took turns feeding them, making sure that they ate as much as they could.
“Has anyone come up with any names?” I asked. Kitty naming was easily one of the most fun parts of raising kitties.
“No more Harry Potter names,” said Kendle. “Last time we named kitties after Harry Potter names they all died.” The mood quickly became somber. One of the kitties from the last litter was named Sirius. Unfortunately the kitty wouldn’t switch to dry food like the rest of the kittens and starved itself to death. Lance was the one to break the solemn atmosphere.
“How about Dragonball Z names?” Asked Lance. Dragonball Z was one of his favorite things.
“We did that last time, the results weren’t too good,” I laughed. The last litter, our Uncle John and Aunt Amy had given each kitty a Dragonball Z related name but some of the kitties were renamed after everyone opted for different names, most of them Harry Potter characters.
“We should name this one Shy Guy; it’s not as loud as the others,” Kendle suggested. The fluffy brown and black kitten in her arms was obviously her favorite.
We had gotten out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide to clean the kitties’ eyes. A bunch of gunk was coming from their eyes; we guessed that it was from the insulation in the attic. Dace was the best at removing the gunk so far. The rest of us were kind of scared that we’d hurt the kitties.
“This one’s name should be Houdini.” We laughed as the other black and brown kitty leaped from the box to Lance’s pant leg. As time went by we all suggested more names but finally agreed on: Carrot, Shy Guy, Houdini, Loudmouth, and Mittens. After Lance and Dace left, Kendle and I got out a heater from a closet and put the kitty box by it.
“Good-night kitties,” I smiled, realizing that the next couple of weeks would be busy while we all took care of the kittens, barely three weeks old. I knew that the kitties were safe for now and that even though we rescued them they still might die, but the important thing was that we tried our best. I switched off the lights and went downstairs to the basement. A day that started off to be a boring Saturday of homework turned out to be a rewarding rescue mission.
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