Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 Talking didn't solve anything, and didn't do us much good in dispelling the nightmares, either. We both had nightmares that night. On the way to school the next day, we walked at the back of the line so we could have a little privacy to talk. There was only one thing we could think of. Fortunately, it was the smart tactic.

At lunchtime, instead of going back to NCH, Kurt and I ran all the way to Divine's Emporium. Our logic was sound, at least, as sound as two elementary-age children could come up with. We just weren’t sure we were allowed to cross that five-lane street without someone who was over age twelve. Still, we had to do it. Miss Angela was the source of all the comic books that Kurt and I used to formulate our superhero rules, and to learn what we could possibly do someday. She was the source of all the wonderful, magical things in our lives. Besides, she had the Wishing Ball, and the clearest thought in my sleep-deprived mind was that I could make a wish and make the nightmares go away.

Angela was spreading cinders on the flagstone path in front of Divine's Emporium, outside of the wrought iron fence, when we ran up the long street. She stopped and put the bucket down inside the fence and then turned and watched us coming, her arms wrapped tight around herself. The closer we came, the sadder her expression grew, so that by the time we were about ten yards away, we had slowed down. The last thing I wanted in the world was to disappoint Miss Angela, and I was sure Kurt felt the same. By the time we got to within maybe ten feet of her, I was wishing I could turn around and run back to NCH and make Miss Angela forget we had come there. She had to know we were supposed to be heading home for lunch, or at least I was. Kurt packed his lunch like all the other NCH kids did in cold or rainy weather, so he could stay at school to eat.

"I'm so sorry," Miss Angela said, and went down on one knee, holding her arms open wide for us. We ran to her and I nearly cried from relief when she hugged us.

"So we're not dead meat?" Kurt said, when she released us and gestured for us to go ahead of her through the gate.

"Not on my watch. No, you two are in very good odor. Although… Well, we'll just have to think of a totally reasonable cover story and make it true. That's one of the laws of the guardians of Neighborlee. While we have many secrets, there are many truths that the ordinary people of this town don't need to know, for their own good and their own mental wellbeing. Can we truly call anyone ordinary who lives in Neighborlee?" She frowned slightly as we trooped up the cinder-strewn path to the front porch of Divine's. Then her frown turned to a smile, she winked, and chuckled as the door swung open while we were three steps away.

"Did you do that?" Kurt said in a loud whisper. "I didn't feel it."

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 

Then the nightmares started.

I never woke up screaming, never talked in my sleep. However, after the third time I jumped out of bed and ran around the room I shared with three other girls, checking to make sure the door and windows were securely shut and locked, people noticed. All I could tell anybody when they complained about me waking them up was that I heard someone trying to get into our cottage.

The girls in my room were nice and didn't tell anybody but Miss Abby. The other girls in our cottage weren't so nice when I got out of our bedroom and checked all the windows and doors. They complained, and word got around. About a week before Christmas, Kurt overheard the complaints and the teasing, and he confronted me.

"Do you feel like a kind of itching in your feet?" he said, when we were tucked up safe in our talking place behind the stage in the social hall. He sighed, more like a groan, and slumped back against the wall. "You know, like when I can feel our superpowers working."

"You can feel them. I can't," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but I'm getting weird dreams too. Is someone trying to get through the walls, scratching at them all the time?"

"It's not people," I told him, my voice dropping to a whisper.

Kurt looked at me very solemnly, looking much older than his nearly-nine years.

We talked about everything we could remember of our dreams, which wasn't much, just the impression of someone trying to get into wherever we were. Kurt was frustrated with me that I didn't get an itching feeling. Then he forgot about that in the surprising discovery revealed by further talking. The itching was always on the same side of the room, when he woke up from his dreams of the intruder. Meaning if he lay on his back, the itching was on his right side, but if he lay on his stomach, the itching was on his left side, and if he was curled up on his side facing the wall, his face itched. The itching was always closest to the outer wall of his room.

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 That afternoon, when Kurt got back from school, Mrs. Silvestri called both of us into her office. We had to tell her all over again what happened. Reggie knew Kurt, so when the Grandstones failed with Chuck and Clarice, they tracked us down, to accuse us of beating up on Sylvia.

"I'm proud of the two of you, for helping to defend others against bullies," Mrs. S said. "However…"

"There's always a however," Kurt muttered, slouching down in his seat right next to mine, facing Mrs. S's desk.

She pressed her lips flat and a little snort-giggle sound escaped her. She bowed her snowy head and rubbed at her temples, then sat up and looked at us again.

"Please be careful in all your dealings with the Grandstones. I don't want to have to punish you for doing what's right."

Then Mrs. S proved she was proud of us. She took us to Divine's Emporium for an hour before dinner. She and Angela sat at the little white wrought iron café table and chatted while Kurt showed me his favorite room upstairs, full of bins of bits and pieces of engines and tools and gears and belts. He put together a cute little wind-up car just while we were walking around the room, from the things he pulled out of the bin. We had fun watching it roll around the room on the mismatched wheels, bumping into the walls and bouncing off, until Mrs. S came for us. Angela let Kurt have the parts he used, for the leftover allowance he had in his pocket. Then she gave me a bag with twenty licorice whips in five flavors and told us to keep up the good work.

Sylvia must have been so ashamed of how she messed up, both crashing her bike and failing to get us in trouble, she left Clarice alone. Actually, she spent the next three weeks pretending Clarice wasn't there. Reggie and Freddie didn't come after Chuck or Kurt. However, Kurt reported that the Grandstone brothers asked a lot of questions about both of us. Some of the questions made no sense, like it was important that we didn’t have anybody. At all. Why did they ask more questions about Kurt, when Reggie already knew about him? After that Sylvia learned new, nasty words for me, and used them anywhere an adult wouldn't hear her. Throwaway was one of the milder taunts. Reject. Leftovers. Sloppy seconds.

Since she didn't sit at the same table with me in class, Sylvia made a point of standing at the easel next to me during painting, and tried to spill water or other colors into my paint jars.

After three weeks of warding off Sylvia's sloppy sabotage, I didn't get headaches anymore. New superhero lesson: regular exercise of my moving trick helped me get stronger, and better control. My appetite grew. Being a superhero, even a superhero in training, used up a lot of calories.

Quiz Time: EARN FREE BOOKS by taking the Neighborlee, Ohio Quizzes!

 

Time for the first quiz to earn points toward free books in the Neighborlee, Ohio fantasy series.

Lanie, who tells most of the stories of Neighborlee, refers to herself and her friends, the guardians of the town, as Semi-Pseudo-Superheroes. Because they do have something close to superhero powers. But they're not quite complete. For instance, Lanie complains quite often that someone who has the ability to kinda-sorta fly, like she does, should have invulnerability added to it. But she doesn't, as she learns to her dismay in Book 2, SEMI-PSEUDO-SUPERHEROES.

Here we have some superhero powers and their descriptions. How do you earn points?

First, come up with a much cooler name for that power. 1 pt.

Then, come up with a superhero -- or supervillain -- who is known for that power. 1 pt.

Bonus points: name somebody in the Neighborlee, Ohio series who has that power! 2 pts.

Deadline: Next Friday, January 17, when I'll post some more powers and ask you to do the same!

Post your answers here in the comments for the blog.

Let's have some fun!!!

If you've read a Neighborlee, Ohio book already, did you post a review for it somewhere online? If you did, post the URL to that review in the comments too. 5 pts.

Earn an ebook with 20 points.

Earn an audiobook with 30 points.

Earn a paperback with 50 points.

Acid generation	Ability to generate acid, can be manifested through touch or as a spray (e.g. acid spit, acid blood, etc.).
Air and wind manipulation	Ability to control, generate, or absorb air or wind
Animal control	Ability to communicate with animals, birds and even aquatic creatures and get them to perform tasks on command
Animal mimicry	Ability to take on the abilities of certain animals.
Animation	Ability to bring inanimate objects to life or to free an individual from petrification
Biological manipulation	Ability to control all aspects of a living creature's biological make-up. This includes, but is not limited to, genetic alterations, physical distortion/augmentations, healing, disease, and biological functions.
Cold and ice manipulation	Ability to reduce the kinetic energy of atoms and thus reduce temperature, can be used to control, generate, or absorb ice
Concussion beams	Ability to generate or transform various forms of energy into a "solid" or concussive beam of energy
Darkness or shadow manipulation	Ability to create or manipulate darkness, often by mentally accessing a dimension of dark energy and manipulating it
Density control Vision	Ability to increase or decrease the natural density of an object and/or one's self
Disintegration	Ability to disintegrate matter through touch or through beams
Earth and stone manipulation	Ability to control earth; sand, stone, rock, lava, dirt, or other minerals
Echolocation	Ability to determine location of objects in the environment by use of reflected sound waves, whether generated by the character or ambient sound. Also known as sonar or radar sense.
Electric manipulation	Ability to control, generate or absorb electric fields
Empathy	Ability to read or sense the emotions and/or control the emotions or feelings of others
Energy blasts	Ability to expel various forms of energy from the body
Energy conversion	Ability to absorb one form of energy and convert it into another form of energy
Fire and heat manipulation	Ability to control the kinetic energy of atoms to generate, control or absorb fire

 

Off the Bookshelf: HISTORY LOST AND FOUND, by Beth Adams - Secrets from Grandma's Attic series

 

Sometimes homework can be fun!

I bought this book (and a big handful of others in this and a second series) to do research into writing for Guideposts.

What a joy. Mystery wrapped around family dynamics and small town living.

Adams gives a warm, enjoyable introduction to the Allen clan, all the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Pearl Allen, the "grandma" of the series title. 

Tracy, who inherited the house and has possession of the attic full of unexplored treasures and memories -- and mysteries to come! -- reads a name written into Grandma's Bible. This is a member of their family, but she doesn't know who he is.

Her search for answers follows a logical progression and reveals some painful details of our country's recent past, as well as gives some insight into the conundrums and joys and sorrows of adoption.

Can't wait to read more in the series, and continue exploring the town and the family and the attic.

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 

From Ye Olde Dragon Books:

I told Kurt what happened on the walk home for lunch. He got that big-eyed, somber look, grabbed my hand, and barely finished saying, "Come on," before he took off running. We went right down the first street past the school instead of walking to the center of town and turning right, to get to NCH. Just after we turned right, we caught up with Clarice and her brother, Chuck. Kurt had me repeat what I had just told him.

"Yeah, she told me," Chuck said. "That was pretty brave, Reesy, not letting a Grandstone order you around."

"But Sylvia never told Clarice to sit with her," I said. "And she never asked her. Sylvia never talks to Clarice at all."

"Grandstones expect people to read their minds and know what they want before they say what they want."

"Gotta have something written there before you can read it," Kurt mumbled. He and Chuck did that stupid boy thing, punching each other in the arm and snorting. "I figure they're gonna come after you, as soon as Saliva tells Reggie." He grinned when Clarice and I both giggled at how he warped Sylvia's name.

The plan was simple—walk with Chuck and Clarice until they got home safely. We didn't really think about the next day, or the day after that. We were just kids. We didn't hold grudges for very long. What we didn't realize was that Sylvia and her rotten cousins weren't "just kids." They were taught from the cradle to hold grudges and to wait years, if they had to, for their revenge. In Grandstone mentality, that meant justice.

Fortunately for us, they also had a very high pride level, and a short attention span.

Before we had gone another block, Sylvia and Reggie caught up to us on their bikes. They rode circles around us, but the sight of four of us against the two of them was enough to stop them from inflicting punishment on Clarice. The four of us kept walking, which made Sylvia and Reggie continually adjust the path of their bikes. On the third circle around us, Sylvia hit the curb crooked and knocked her bike over and fell off. She let out a shriek and Reggie fell off his bike.

"Did you?" Kurt said as we kept walking. He was the only one who looked back. It took me a minute to understand what he meant. I shook my head. "Too bad. That would have been cool."

Sylvia didn't come to school the next day. Her leg hurt too much. Clarice told me that Sylvia's uncle came to the O’Donnells’ house that night, accusing them of beating up on her. Chuck had experience with Grandstone lies, so he had already told his father what happened. Mr. O’Donnell told Mr. Grandstone that nobody had touched Sylvia, and if he tried to sue, he would counter-sue and slap a restraining order on Sylvia to keep her away from Clarice.

Clarice actually giggled when she told me that Mr. Grandstone got all weepy and his voice got high. He insisted that Clarice was Sylvia's best friend and she was just so fragile without her parents in the country, she needed her best friend to withstand the torments of the first few weeks of school.

I had to explain what fragile was.

"Daddy explained to me that Sylvia thinks I'm her best friend because I'm too scared of her to argue," Clarice added.

Excerpt: CONFESSIONS OF A LOST KID, Neighborlee, Ohio, Book 1

 

From Ye Olde Dragon Books:

Sylvia left me alone for the first week of school, until Miss Underwood let us move our nametags. She marched over to my table, ripped my nametag off the table, tearing it halfway through between the N and the I, then slapped her nametag down in my place. By this time, I had received plenty of advice from Kurt and Mrs. S and Miss Abby for how to handle even worse bullies than Ricky and Donny. I picked up my nametag off the floor where she tossed it and moved over to the table she had just left.

The funny thing was, everybody at my table pulled up their nametags and moved to other tables, leaving Sylvia completely alone. That worked out, because there were six places at each table and four tables, but only eighteen students in the class.

Sylvia didn't even notice that she had the fourth table entirely to herself until she looked up from taping her nametag down again. Her mouth dropped open and she looked around the room. Then she stomped over to Clarice O’Donnell, who had been sitting next to me at my first table and had taken the same spot at our new table.

"What are you doing over here?" she demanded.

"I want to sit over here," Clarice said, her voice barely above a mumble.

"But I want you to sit next to me." Sylvia reached over to pull up Clarice's nametag, which she had just finished taping down.

"Sylvia, what did I just tell everybody?" Miss Underwood called.

"You said we could sit wherever we wanted now, we can sit by our friends. I want Clarice to sit next to me." Again with the little stomp for punctuation.

"I also said that everyone could make one move. You've already moved to a new table, and Clarice has moved to a new table. No more moving."

"But Miss Underwood, I want—"

"Clarice, do you want to sit next to Sylvia?" Miss Underwood asked.

"Yes, she does," Sylvia said, while Clarice hunched her shoulders and shook her head. Everybody had been watching in silence until that moment. Then they burst out laughing. Sylvia turned red, darker than her blood-red nail polish.

"The rules are the rules," Miss Underwood said. "Go back to your table, Sylvia."

"But I'm all alone!"

"Yes, and why don't you think about why you're alone?"

"Clarice is stupid and didn't do what I told her, that's why."

"No one is allowed to call anyone stupid in this classroom."

Sylvia spent the rest of the morning standing in the corner, doing her addition worksheet against the wall, with her back to the rest of the room.