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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781450289917 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | iUniverse, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 06/24/2011 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 148 |
| File size: | 440 KB |
| Age Range: | 9 - 12 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Shayna Gladstone In Search of the Scientist
By C.J. Murray
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 C.J. MurrayAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-8990-0
Chapter One
The Prophecy
Shayna Gladstone was so short that everyone in her class at Sir Gawain Elementary School stood at least four inches taller. She was a shrimp next to Trudy Moorphy, who towered a whopping seven inches over her.
At the end of gym class, Mrs. Gangle, a wart drooping below her right eye, reminded the class, "Tomorrow after school we will be holding tryouts for the girls' basketball team. Shayna, you can't try out. We don't have a midget team."
The class erupted with laughter, and Shayna stormed out of the gym.
"Get back here this instant, little lady. I'm warning you!" hollered the warty Mrs. Gangle.
"Sorry, I can't hear you because I'm too short!" Shayna bolted out the doors of the school and scrambled onto her bicycle. She didn't know where she was going, but she was definitely getting away from her bully teacher. She pedaled so hard that her legs seemed a blur.
Shayna wasn't yet across the weedy soccer field before she started to smell bubble gum. The wind picked up and a shadow swept over her. She looked up to see a bizarre hot-air balloon falling from the sky.
"What in the world?" The balloon was headed straight for her!
She tumbled off her bicycle just as the massive hot-air balloon touched down, pinning the wheels of her bike under its basket.
"Holy smokes!" said Shayna, sprawled in a clump of dandelions.
The balloon's shadow blanketed Shayna and half of the soccer field. This was the largest hot-air balloon Shayna had ever seen, easily the size of a schoolhouse.
A winged man, no larger than a groundhog, flew out of the bottom of the balloon and dropped a ladder made of red licorice ropes into the balloon basket. He fiddled at a control panel, whistled a merry tune, and fluttered his iridescent wings.
Overflowing with curiosity, Shayna drew close to the balloon, when she saw a woman shimmy down the licorice ladder sporting turquoise boots with glowing pink laces. Shayna crinkled her nose. Didn't the lady know that her purple and red polka-dotted stockings clashed with the orange bloomers that were hiked up beyond her stomach? The woman jumped from the bottom rung of the ladder to the floor and adjusted the collar of her frilly tie-dye blouse in midair.
"Greetings. I am the Balloon Lady," said the fashion-challenged woman. She straightened the furry yellow fez atop her head and inserted a cardinal feather in the brim. "I hail from Terramanna, the land of fun, frivolity, and merriment. I am pleased to introduce to you our ace scrumption pilot, Atlas of the Skytrak clan." With her index finger, she summoned Atlas, the groundhog-sized man.
Atlas fluttered to the floor of the basket and sprouted to the size of a young boy—a boy with wings, mind you.
Shayna had never seen a scrumption before, let alone one that could fly. "Are you aliens?"
The Balloon Lady burst into laughter. "How fantastic! What a stupendous inquiry."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, kiddo," said Atlas with a whistling lisp. He bowed and then sneezed in Shayna's face.
Shayna jumped back.
"Ewww." She wiped Atlas's spittle off of her face with her sleeve. "Gross!"
"My friend," said the Balloon Lady, "certainly you know that scrumptions often sneeze on those they admire."
"Uh, isn't that unhealthy?" asked Shayna.
"Don't be silly," said the Balloon Lady. "Sneezing won't hurt him at all."
"No, I meant ... oh, forget it," said Shayna.
"I'm plum thrilled to attend before you," said the Balloon Lady. "I have heard so much about you over the years from our cherished Minnie Maudde."
Shayna blinked her eyes a few times. The name did sound familiar. Then a light bulb went off in her head. "Minnie Maudde, the inventor! You mean my grandfather's cousin, once removed I think."
"Precisely. Not your own cousin. I would never have implied that," said the Balloon Lady. "Frankly, I never intended to come here but after bobbing yon and hither on an exhaustive search for a heroic Shayna, I decided, as a last resort, that I must come to assess your quality of spirit. The Queens' Council dismissed my idea. Afterall, you are merely a child and, as we all know, children can't be involved in anything serious."
"Pardon me?"
"Precisely," said the Balloon Lady. "In accordance with the Constitution of Terramanna, children must have fun, fun, fun. Therefore, you see, matters of importance must be attended to by adults."
"That's absurd." Shayna flipped her sun-bleached brown ponytail off her shoulder.
"Now tell me, my friend, what heroic deeds have you achieved in the name of fun?" The Balloon Lady pulled an oversized notepad and floppy pencil out of a miniature pocket at the side of her bloomers. She licked the nib of the pencil and smiled at Shayna in anticipation of making a note of an outstanding answer. However, when Shayna didn't respond, the pencil became so limp that it folded over on itself.
"I'm a last resort, am I?" Shayna mumbled. "Merely a child? I am eleven years old." With those words, Shayna tried to pull her bicycle out from under the balloon basket. The banana seat popped off in her hands, and she rolled backward, landing square on the seat. She blew her hair out of her face with a big huff.
"Marvelous! That was a spectacular stunt. How positively, perfectly fun," said the Balloon Lady. "You are a veritable rib-tickler." She clapped her hands like a circus seal. "Yes, I believe you satisfy subsections one through four of the Prophecy."
"Prophecy?" asked Shayna.
"One: your name is Shayna. Two: you are fun." The Balloon Lady ticked off points in the air with her droopy pencil as she spoke. "Three: you adore candy, gum, treats, and the like. Mind you, who doesn't? And number four: you are destined to save Terramanna."
"What would I know about saving Terramanna?" said Shayna. "I couldn't be the Shayna you're looking for. I know nothing about this Prophecy and I've never heard of Terramanna before. And fun? Do you mean like a clown?"
"You only need come with us to Terramanna, kiddo," said Atlas. "You are Terramanna's hope for continued fun, frivolity, and merriment."
A brilliant question dawned on Shayna. "If I come to Terramanna, will I get to meet Minnie Maudde?"
"Precisely," said the Balloon Lady, balancing her rear-end on the ledge of the balloon basket. She nibbled on the licorice rope. "Yet I confess, my friend, scheduling a meeting with Minnie Maudde may be a challenge. Nonetheless, in Terramanna, opportunities abound for fun, fun, fun."
"What do you mean, meeting Minnie Maudde may be a challenge?" asked Shayna.
"My friend, it's the fun that's important. Fun, fun, fun," sang the Balloon Lady. "Well, I'm certainly satisfied you are the subject of the Prophecy and that's good enough for me. Now, let's skedaddle to the land of fun, frivolity, and merriment."
The Balloon Lady hopped off the ledge onto the basket floor and handed Shayna a piece of licorice rope.
Shayna flung the licorice around her neck and frayed its ends like a scarf as she stared, deep in thought, at the Balloon Lady. "I want to meet Minnie Maudde. Meeting her is going to be the fun part."
"I'm afraid she's indisposed. Kindly, come into the basket before the balloon departs," said the Balloon Lady.
"Indisposed? What do you mean?"
"She's, well ... she's unavailable." The Balloon Lady shuffled her feet and cleared her throat twice.
"Unavailable?" asked Shayna.
"You can't meet with Minnie Maudde because, you see ... oh, goodness Shayna, I can't very well simply tell you she's been kidnapped." The Balloon Lady clasped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, pickled peach fuzz. I didn't mean to tell you."
"Kidnapped! That's horrible," said Shayna. "I can't go to Terramanna. It's dangerous."
"My friend, we urge you to reconsider," said the Balloon Lady. "The ancient Prophecy of the Terraman Oracle states that a heroic person by the name of Shayna will restore fun, frivolity, and merriment to Terramanna in the Age of Gloom. The Queens' Council assures us that the Age of Gloom is imminent. I beg you, on bended knee, to help Terramanna defeat unimaginable forthcoming misery."
Shayna swallowed hard. No one had ever begged for her help before, let alone on their knees. This was all too strange.
"Just because my name is Shayna doesn't mean I can do anything about gloom. I'm terribly sorry."
The cuckoo clock watch on Atlas's wrist cuckooed six times. The balloon started creaking and shaking.
"Automatic lift-off engaged," said Atlas.
"Shayna Gladstone!" shouted Mrs. Gangle, marching across the field, pumping her fist in the air. "Little Shayna Gladstone, you get back in the school this minute."
"Hide me!" Shayna jumped into the basket and ducked behind the Balloon Lady. "Please, hide me from my teacher. She always teases me because I'm short. I hate her!"
The balloon made a loud noise like air escaping, and a strong wind whipped up around it. The balloon lifted off the ground, leaving Mrs. Gangle in its wake.
"You get down here this minute, young lady. I'm warning you!"
The balloon rose higher and higher. Shayna peered over the rim of the basket and watched Mrs. Gangle become smaller and smaller until she looked no bigger than a measly ant. The balloon broke through the downy clouds and, at last, Mrs. Gangle faded out of sight.
When Shayna could see nothing but clouds below her, a huge knot twisted inside her stomach. "Oh, no! What have I gotten myself into?"
Chapter Two
The Balloon
"Well, my friend," said the Balloon Lady, "it seems you reconsidered your position. You are on your way to Terramanna."
"I didn't reconsider my position," said Shayna. "I didn't want you to take me away. I just wanted to hide from my teacher. Please turn around and drop me off. My grandfather won't know where I am." The knot in her stomach was now doing back flips.
"Pardon the misunderstanding. Don't fret," said the Balloon Lady. "We are, this instant, dispatching a spectacular candygram to your grandfather advising of your location. I'm quite certain he will understand."
With those words, Atlas released into the sky a mini hotair balloon with an overflowing basket of glorious candy and a note addressed to "Grandfather Gladstone, 192 Sterling Street, Urgent."
"I want to go home." Shayna pushed her ponytail off her shoulder. "Now."
"You must understand that our destination is pre-programmed with mathematical accuracy to allow us to slip through the International Date Line hole," said the Balloon Lady. "You will be transported back to your grandfather in due course."
"Slip through the what?" asked Shayna.
"The International Date Line hole. You know, the IDL hole. Time warps beyond the IDL hole." The Balloon Lady licked the cloud hanging in front of her face.
"Huh?" Shayna was more than a little confused.
"Oh, my gracious. What do they teach in these newfangled schools nowadays?" said the Balloon Lady. "It's elementary. We merely squeeze through a hole in the International Date Line. Beyond the hole we have three days to every one day on this side of the IDL hole."
"Of course. Elementary. Where is my head these days?" said Shayna.
"Basket up, seal the hatch!" shouted Atlas.
The basket vibrated and moved upward into the balloon, which sealed below their feet.
"It smells like bubble gum," said Shayna.
"Indeed," said the Balloon Lady. "We have a bubble gum factory aboard this fantabulous vessel."
"An entire factory? In a balloon?"
"Come," said the Balloon Lady. She barged through the swinging door of the wicker basket, skipped onto the red and white striped floor, and turned in circles, with her arms swinging about her. Candy sprinkles flew out of her sleeves.
Shayna was awestruck by the kaleidoscopic balloon interior. She arched and leaned back to look at the sparkly purple escalator that spiraled upward to the very top of the balloon. A corkscrewed peppermint stick fireman's pole traveled through the whole length of the escalator. A pit of cushy orange sponge toffee lay at the bottom of the pole.
"Wow!" said Shayna. "I didn't know balloons were like this. How can all this fit in here? And isn't there supposed to be a fire making hot air?"
A deep-voiced scrumption slid down the peppermint stick. "Wahoooo!"
The scrumption hit the sponge toffee pit and did a back-handspring toward Atlas.
"Alvin here hails from the Gomock clan," said the Balloon Lady. "A whole family tree of nuts if you ask me. They adore jokes. Their best gag was when they tricked the fairies into collecting children's lost teeth. Notice that Gomocks have tiny non-flying wings."
Alvin took off his velvet top hat, reached inside, and pulled out a microphone that he placed on a red pillow. Atlas snatched the microphone.
"Attention crew," announced Atlas. His voice echoed throughout the balloon. "Our guest, Shayna of the Prophecy, is now on board. A warm welcoming would be, well, welcome."
Alvin aped Atlas and his echo. Shayna couldn't help but giggle.
Curious scrumptions peaked out from behind seemingly every rounded corner to get a glimpse of the new guest. Their wings smacked together in applause. Some scrumptions were tiny, easily mistaken for bluebirds, and some stood as high as Shayna's shoulders. Yet others grew tall and short without warning.
Alvin plucked things out of his hat. He now had four different hats piled on his head, a rabbit at his feet, and all the while he was tugging a slew of handkerchiefs from his shirtsleeve. His toothy grin never waned.
"Come hither, Shayna; I shall escort you to the Ministry Office to obtain your passport," said the Balloon Lady. "Come now. Time is ticking. Tick tock, tick tock."
Shayna stepped on the escalator with the Balloon Lady. Atlas, now the size of a well-fed northern hare, rode up the escalator, lying on the railing with his arms behind his head, humming elevator music. The escalator carried them upward past seven floors, each floor bustling with activity.
"Atlas?" asked Shayna. "You know how to fly this ... this contraption?"
"Sure do, kiddo."
"How does it fly?" asked Shayna. "I mean, it's gotta be heavy with all these people, a whole bubble gum factory, an escalator, and everything else."
"Excellent question!" said the Balloon Lady. "Oh, look. Here's the eighth floor. Our first stop."
The Balloon Lady grabbed Shayna's hand, ushering her off the escalator and through a coiled hallway to a sign on the wall that read "Ministry of Passports, Exports, and Reports." The Balloon Lady fished around in her pocket and took out an ornate doorknob, put it against the wall, and turned it. A door opened to a wood-paneled lobby with marble floors, granite pillars, and a solid brass information desk.
The Balloon Lady stepped up to the desk, behind which a big-winged, spectacled scrumption sat. The scrumption's left ear supported a sticky, chewed pencil that appeared to be a tutti-frutti stick.
"This scrumption is from the Ploomi clan," the Balloon Lady whispered. "Very industrious folk, they are."
The Ploomi handed the Balloon Lady a ticket with the number 102 stamped on it. "Have a seat," he mumbled. The Ploomi stretched his wings and yawned.
The Balloon Lady and Shayna took a seat in lemon-scented bean bag chairs lined up against the wall. Other than the Ploomi, they were the only ones in the room.
The Ploomi, his head down, focusing on paper work, called out, "Number seventy-one."
No answer. Shayna scanned the empty room.
"Number seventy-two."
No answer. Shayna rolled her eyes.
"Number seventy-three."
No answer. The Ploomi continued to call out numbers, clearly in accordance with government policy.
While they waited, the Balloon Lady chitchatted with Shayna. "The scrumptions founded Terramanna long before recorded time. Our notably excellent twin queens, Haspa and Beatrix, govern the region. Terramanna exports many natural resources, including licorice stalks, sun-baked gingerbread, gumballs, chocolate nuggets, maple bricks, vine-ripened marshmallows, and, oh, so many other delicacies."
"Terramanna sounds like a first-rate candy land," said Shayna.
"Indeed."
"But Terramanna is dangerous," said Shayna. "I mean, Minnie Maudde was kidnapped. Who kidnapped her?"
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Shayna Gladstone In Search of the Scientist by C.J. Murray Copyright © 2011 by C.J. Murray. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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