Dear Reader: The following snippets are rough draft chapters of my current WIP MG fiction novel CAUGHT IN THE ACT: THE SPELL. If you want to start with Chapter One, it's here.
CHAPTER 8
“You believe me don’t you, Travis?” Josh asked into his phone.
Josh had been sitting at the dining room table since his mom and dad left. He’d planned on eating a snack. His mom had even made his favorite cereal-peanut snack mix, but he wasn’t hungry. So, his untouched bowl was pushed to the side. His schoolbooks were scattered in front of him. He should’ve been doing his homework. He should be doing a lot of things. He should be upstairs at his desk, trying to figure out what to do. But he didn’t want to be alone and sitting at the huge, dark-wood table, he didn’t feel lonely.
“Yes, for the thousandth time. I was there. I saw you.”
“Why don’t you think Elyse believes us?”
“Probably thinks we’re playing a joke on her like we did last year at April Fools.”
“It’s not April!” Josh felt like yelling. Frustration and fear crowded his mind.
“I know.” Travis said. “Hey, I gotta go. Mom had to go to a meeting, and I need to eat and do homework.”
“Yeah. Mom and Dad went to that annual medical banquet thing. I’m supposed to get some sort of dinner together for Lacey.”
“Is she still upset about her science fair project getting second?”
“Nah, she’s already working on next year’s.”
“Crazy.”
“Little sisters are that way.”
“Yep,” Travis said. See ya.”
“Yeah.” Josh clicked off the phone and set it on the table.
He had no interest in doing his homework. He tried to be a good student and was mostly, but really, he’d rather be doing anything than the work the teachers had piled on. It seemed like ever since he got back from New York, everything had gone wrong. He’d gotten detention. The teachers were assigning more homework than ever, and he had this, this—whatever this was with Noah Webster.
Going to The Big Apple was supposed to be the greatest experience of his life, but it was turning out to be the worst. He’d looked forward to it for months, years probably if the truth were to be known. The drama club he was a member of had raised money since fifth grade. They’d done car washes, sold candy bars, put on skits in the park, everything so they could watch a play on Broadway. Sure, the play they’d seen was fantastic. The lead role had been powerful, believable—to sound like Mrs. Bowers, his drama coach. It was New York City. Who wouldn’t be thrilled at the idea of just going?
Josh wouldn’t, not now. One of his best friends thought he was lying to her. He was somehow necessary to Noah Webster, and he didn’t even know if he believed the whole thing himself. Did he really go back in time? Looking at his hand and the journal sure made it seem real. But maybe it was just a dream. Maybe this was. Maybe he was still on the plane on the way to New York at the beginning of his trip and none of this had ever happened.
Yeah. That sounds good. That sounds right. I’ll just lay my head down right here. Josh crossed his arms on the table, tucked his head into the crook of his elbow, and closed his eyes. And waited. Nothing. He waited some more. He tried to do things he’d done before in other dreams he’d had to manipulate the happenings. Like if there was a fire in his dream, he’d instantly have a fire truck and firemen to put it out. If he was being chased by a madman, he’d instantly have bionic powers and save himself. But nothing he tried worked. He couldn’t manipulate his way out of this.
“Maybe this isn’t a dream,” he mumbled and raised his head. He cringed at the books and papers before him. Glancing at one then another trying to decide which to do first, he saw Noah’s journal. He picked it up and thumbed to the first page.
“This definitely looks real. I didn’t just get it from someplace. I couldn’t have.” He muttered to the empty room.
The writing was stiff cursive with splotchy marks. Having a hard time seeing it, Josh stood and switched on the overhead light.
He settled back into his chair. He could imagine Noah sitting at a dimly lit table at the ending of a long day. Josh could pretend he heard the scratching of a quill pen as it scribbled across the paper, leaving drips of wet ink as it went. Maybe this guy who wrote the dictionary had lots to say. Maybe he had answers to questions every kid asked. Does that girl like me? Does that guy really eat ten raw eggs for breakfast? Will I get picked last in gym tomorrow? Hmm.
Maybe Noah did have the answers, but for all Josh knew, it was hopeless. He couldn’t read the journal. Scanning through the pages, he could pick out a word here and there maybe. But he couldn’t actually read the faded scribbled words on the yellowed, frayed paper. On one page, though, he saw the huge letters Y A L E written in a big flourish.
“Are you going to make dinner?”
Josh jerked up and shut the book. He looked over to the owner of the voice who was standing primly near the door. His sister’s long black hair was fastened back. The perfectly matched outfit she’d worn to school was still neat and straight, right down to her precisely buckled shoes. She’d been home for hours and should have looked frumpy or wrinkled at least, but she didn’t. Josh always felt like a slob around her. His curly hair drooping into his face and his shirt tails untucked—if he had shirt tails. More often than not he threw on whatever was available, usually an old t-shirt with a hole in the arm. He was lucky if he put on matching socks and shoes. He could hardly keep himself together. So how the heck was he supposed to save some dude’s life was beyond him.
“Yes, Lacey I am.”
“What’s that?” Lacey asked as she walked closer and tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear.
“A book for school.”
“Can I see it?” She inched closer.
“No.”
“It looks old.” Lacey reached for it.
“It is.” Josh tucked the journal under one of his other books. “What do you want for dinner?” He asked hoping for a subject change.
“I don’t know. I was only thinking about it because I have a project, I want to finish first before we eat.”
“What’s the project.”
“Vocabulary. I need to finish it for next Friday’s test.”
“Next Friday?”
“Yeah, not everybody keeps things for the last minute you know.” Her wide black eyes held a hint of accusation.
“Fine. Do you want help?” Josh knew she’d only come to him because she truly needed something, but she wouldn't just directly ask.
“We’re doing this unit in history on government, and I need help looking up some of the words.” Lacey set a red covered dictionary of the table.
Geez, she even sounds like a teacher, Josh thought and hid his prideful grin. “Well, not all dictionaries have all the words in them. Sometimes you need a bigger one than this one. I know the library at school has one of those huge ones on a stand near the encyclopedias,” Josh’s voice trailed off as Lacey raced from the room. She must be excited, he thought as he heard her run up the stairs and into her room. Then whack, her door shut, and he heard her hard bottomed shoes tap their way back.
“I have one.” She said breathlessly and plopped it on the table.
“Okay,” Josh sat up.
“I got the old one from the library at school when the new one came in. It’s huge!” She giggled, clasped her hands under her chin and did a little dance in place.
“It’s great.” Josh couldn’t help smiling. He’d admit that his sister drove him so nuts sometimes. That was the job of a little sister after all but seeing her so excited about something as simple as a huge book was cool. “What are the words?” he asked as she sat down beside him.
“Senate, Congress, Assembly.” She counted them off on her fingers. “Those are the only ones I can’t find.”
“Hmmm. Funny. They should all be in that smaller book, but we’ll see.” Josh flipped to the middle of the heavy book. Turning the pages to find senate, he stopped when he got to the page. Right there, right where it should have been between senary and send was a blank, a little rectangle of nothing, like someone had used invisible white-out on the page. He flipped back to congress. It was missing. Back further back to assembly. Gone. What the…?
Josh snapped the book closed. “I’m going to make dinner.”
