Dear Reader: The following snippets are rough draft chapters of my current WIP MG fiction novel CAUGHT IN THE ACT: THE SPELL.
Chapter 10
Josh didn’t feel like talking to anyone for the rest of his life. He didn’t know how he was going to get through lunch and gym and art at the end of the day. Travis and Elyse tried to get him to talk to the principal about what happened. But Josh wouldn’t. They tried to get him to go home early. He did call, but no one answered. Nothing seemed to be working out. Travis and Elyse tried for the rest of the day to get Josh to laugh or joke. Normally, they would have succeeded. Josh was a jokester. He loved messing around. But not today. Today changed everything.
He didn’t want to ride his skateboard the three blocks to his house when school got out. So, instead he hung his head, tucked his board under his arm, and trudged home. Alone. Away from everyone and everything.
By the time he got home all the thoughts in his head were making him feel insane. Was seeing Noah Webster really real? Was Arayla real or a dream? Were words missing from the dictionary or had he made that up? Had he traveled through time? Was he really supposed to save Noah’s life? How? Why him? He had no idea how to answer any of his questions. But thinking about what a mess his world was, made him more open to the idea that maybe he had seen Noah. And if he had seen him, then Arayla was real. If one part was real, all of it had to be right?
As he moved up the walk toward his front door, he forced himself to think happy, hopeful things. Yeah. Home. Normal land. Tomorrow is Saturday. No homework. I get to sleep in. Mom will make biscuits and gravy. Maybe we’ll go to Glacier Park. Ride our bikes. We haven’t done that since last summer. Winter’s over now. Great idea. Definitely sounds like a good plan to me. His steps moved faster; his feet felt lighter. He opened his door excited for the weekend.
And stopped short. He heard yelling. His parents were yelling.
They never yelled. Well, not really. They disagreed sometimes. Mostly because Mom would be cooking and forget that she was in the middle of a sentence and then Dad would be frustrated because he couldn't understand her. Mom would apologize. Dad would say sorry too and then they’d have dinner. Problem solved. But this was different. This sounded like a real deal.
Josh stepped into the living room. The pillows from the couch were thrown on the floor. Their books that were usually lined up practically and in alphabetical order were kicked off their shelf. The coffee table was turned over. Mom’s cooking magazines and Dad’s medical journals were strewn with the pillows. Pictures on the wall were even crooked.
His mom’s face was tight with hurt and confusion. His dad’s was red with anger.
“This stupid house you love so much. It’s gone!” Josh’s dad yelled.
“Nathan, would you just calm down and tell me what has got you so worked up?” His mom asked.
“Oh, so now you sound like a psychologist. Do you have that degree too?” Nathan yanked off his tie and threw it on the floor.
“I don’t either sound like a psychologist. I’m just trying to figure out what’s wrong.”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong. This world is filled with injustice. Nobody stands up for anybody anymore. Nobody’s loyal. You try to make a good thing happen and people just turn their back on you. Well, I’m not going to stand for it. No sir.”
“Stand for what?” Josh’s mom went to wipe her face with her hands and realized she was holding a spatula. “Dinner! Hang on.” She rushed from the room.
Josh’s dad paced. He raked his hands through his hair, kicked the end table, knocking a pile of books to the floor. He muttered words Josh had never heard him say before. Words that would get him grounded for weeks if he’d said them. Finally, Josh’s dad looked over at him.
“Hi, son.” Nathan’s eyes seemed less angry when they looked at him.
“Hi, Dad.” Josh knew his face looked shocked, but he couldn’t do a thing about it. Today was a permanent shock. There was no way he could hide what he was feeling.
“Have a good day?” Nathan stood with his feet spread and arms crossed.
Josh knew they were just going through the normal father-kid routine. He actually liked it, most of the time. Except not today he didn’t. But normally, they joked some about teachers and school lunches. His dad would tell stories about when he was in school. Besides science, history was his favorite subject, just like Josh so they always had something to talk about there.
Nathan’s long days at the hospital seemed to drain away when he talked to his kids. He always found a way to make them feel special and individual. His dark eyes that matched Josh’s would let the stress of the day fade, and the time with his family take over. It was nice. It was nothing like the uncomfortable, don’t-know-what-to-say-or-do, situation they were in right now. So Josh just played along.
“Sure. We had a quiz in science today.” Got hit by a teacher.
“How’d you do?”
“It’s not graded yet.” Because our teacher was abducted by aliens. “Probably find out on Monday.”
“Monday. Right.” Nathan rubbed his face and started pacing again.
“Well, dinner’s burned,” Josh’s mom said as she came back in the room. “I haven’t burned a meal since Josh was born. Thank you very much. Now we’ll have to go out and eat.”
Josh looked to the ceiling. He’d heard the burned dinner story a million times. Burning dinner wasn’t her fault then just like it wasn’t hers now. She’d gone into labor with him and didn’t realize it until the food was cooking. Josh immediately recognized his mother’s disappointment. She hated going out to dinner. Josh always thought, assumed really, that being a chef would make you not want to cook when you got home. But somehow going out to dinner was a disgrace to his mom. He didn’t understand why.
“We can just eat leftovers or something,” Josh said trying to help.
“We don’t have any. I cleaned the fridge today,” his mom snapped. But then looked over at him. “Sorry, Josh. It’ll be fine. I’ll make something fast. Maybe oatmeal.”
Josh smiled. Oatmeal was his mom’s comfort food. So was chocolate cake, but he didn’t think that’d be happening. “Sounds good.”
“What’s the matter? Did you have a bad day?” His mom asked him.
“Kinda. Ms. Abbernathy—”
“Sure you ask him what’s the matter and if he had a bad day. But do you ask me? No!” Josh’s dad flailed his arms around.
Josh gaped at his dad. He never talked like that. He never acted like that.
“All right Nathan. That is enough. I’ve tried to be patient with you, but this is it. What is wrong? What happened?” Clara wiped her hands on the towel on her shoulder and crossed her arms.
“I got fired.” Nathan sunk onto the couch.
“Fired? How? You’re the lead surgeon.”
“I performed an operation without the agreement of my colleagues. The patient had appendicitis, and the appendix needed to be removed quickly. The two doctors I’ve worked with for ten years didn’t consent. They didn’t even believe me when I was doing the procedure with an obviously inflamed appendix. They were right there looking at it and called me a liar. Anyway they talked to the administrator of the hospital, and she dismissed me this afternoon.”
“I can’t believe it,” Clara sat on the edge of the couch next to Nathan and took his hands in hers.
“So I guess enjoy this house for a little while more. Because when you’re fired as a surgeon you don’t exactly get another job right away—if ever.”
Josh slumped back against the wall. His mouth still open. His eyes wide.
