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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781468594812 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 08/18/2017 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 108 |
| File size: | 4 MB |
| Age Range: | 13 - 17 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
I dribbled the ball down the field -- first with my left foot, then my right. The wind blowing my hair felt good. Even running against the wind was no challenge to me. I knew I could do this. "We can win with this goal." I dribbled to the center of the field. The herd of boys chasing me could not break my concentration. "Line the ball up with the goal," I told myself. I glanced at the goalie. "Good. He's shifted positions with me." I scooted to the right to make him move from center goal. "That's it." The goalie squared off in front of me.
Waiting. Ready for me to slam the ball. I edged to the right just a hair. I kept a poker face. I refused to show my thoughts on my face. I knew that my kick had to be deep in the left pocket. The score was tied.
"Concentrate on what you can do." I glared at the goalie. "I can do this. Left pocket goal. I can do this; I can do this." I took a deep breath and slammed the ball with my right foot. It zinged into the left corner of the goal. The goalie dived. He missed! The crowd went wild. I leaped and roared! I leaped so high I almost touched the sky. I dropped to the ground. Panting. Sweat and tears covered my face. I'd scored -- scored the winning goal. I stood up slowly. My teammates were all around me. I could just stare at them. Someone handed me a towel to wipe my face off. The roar in my ears was caused by the fans, yelling and screaming. My team gave me high fives as fast as I could return them. They lifted me up on someone's shoulders. I was screaming and laughing at the same time. Man! What a game. There could never be such a feeling as this. I grinned so hard my face was sore.
The coach thumped me hard on the back. "Good work man. What a goal! You're one of the best sixth grade forwards I've ever seen." He put both his hands on my shoulders. "In fact that last shot just might earn you the Player of the Year Award." I beamed.
The sixth grade soccer championship game was over. I sat by my best bud Tommy on the team bench. We watched in wonder as a soccer ball zipped past us. Would you look at that!" Tommy poked me. "It's headed to the woods. C'mon Steve. Let's get it." He took off.
I shook my head. "You're over-dressed in that Boy Scout uniform."
"At least I'm closer to it than you."
I flung my towel over my shoulder and trotted past Tommy. "Care to comment, Scout Man?! This ball is moving and so am I." The ball shot into the woods. We leaped over undergrowth and broken sticks.
"Whoever kicked this has a strong leg. We need him for our team."
"Why doesn't that ball have the same trouble moving through this mess that we have?" Tommy said.
"Believe it or not, it's almost to the creek." I jumped over a gully.
"That creek is too deep in the woods for that. The ball can't get there." Tommy said.
"Don't bet on it. It's close."
The ball hit a small tree that was in its path and stopped dead.
"Whoops. How did that happen? It went around all the other trees. But now, I have it." I picked it up and threw it back to the soccer field. As it arched upward I remembered the last few minutes of our game:
The kick into the left pocket, the goalie diving and missing, the cheers from the team. What a game it had been. Stunning.
Then Tommy in his Boy Scout uniform joining me for the last few minutes. Really neat. "What a great goal, Mr. Player of the Year."
I flicked my towel toward him. He grabbed the hamburger he'd balanced on his knee. "Good save, feller. I just had to keep up with you, that's all." I examined Tommy's new badges. "You got both the Tenderfoot and the Second Class ranks from your Scout group. And in the fastest time in the history of your troop. Talk about hard work! Here's to you – my man." I jerked at Tommy's tape measure that was fastened to his belt. "Be prepared. ... and all that good stuff." I loved to tease him.
"Wow. That ball was moving." Tommy came up to me panting.
"Yeah. It looked like it was attached to a string so someone could pull it. It went straight as an arrow," I said.
We climbed onto Flat Rock, our favorite picnic spot. Tommy took a bite out of his hamburger and put it down. I snatched it and snagged a bite too.
"Glad you brought this. It hits the spot."
"Hey, that's my lunch."
"That's OK. You can share."
"I know. I know." Tommy looked up the creek where it entered the woods. "What's that?"
"What?"
"Look. Coming at us straight from the woods by the creek." He stood up.
CHAPTER 2
The bottle bounced to Tommy. It did not roll to the right or to the left. It came straight to Tommy. "The elves are sending us a present." He went to the creek to pick it up. It moved without veering just like the soccer ball had.
Some weird things are happening here. First the ball lures us to the Flat Rock. Now a bottle is zipping up to us without turning. Why does my best friend think that elves are sending us a present?
"Hey, Steve. Look at this."
"What the. ..." I muttered under my breath. Go see what he has. He does have a lot of good ideas.
"Someone wanted us to have this bottle." Tommy took off his bright gold Boy Scout scarf and wrapped it around his hand. Then he picked the bottle up. "Look at this." It was shaped like an old-fashioned pop bottle -- about eight inches tall, light green with oval bumps scattered on it. "This is not one of your run-of-the-mill bottles." He rolled it over touching the large bumps. "I've never seen bumps on a bottle like this. I wonder if it's an antique. If it is, Mom would love it."
I was still staying away from Tommy. My mind didn't want any part of this -- but something in me wanted to join in the fun. "Elves." I muttered. "No such thing as elves. Why should I go to him?" I turned to him anyway. "There isn't any such thing as an elf and you know it! Now what could have 'sent' you that bottle?"
Go see what he's found. He does have neat ideas.
"Who said that?" I looked around me.
"Phew-we! Smell this elf juice." Tommy stuck the bottle out to me.
"It's not 'elf juice'. There's no such thing as an elf and you know it! I tried to pull away but I still got a whiff of the 'elf juice'. "Boy! Don't let my mother smell it. She'll give it to me for cough syrup."
"Here." Tommy shoved the bottle at me. "Set it down on the Flat Rock; I feel funny."
I took the bottle and rolled it over and over. The bumps were different shapes -- some oval -- some round -- and there were a couple of squares. I rubbed my fingers together. The bottle was sticky. I wonder who made this bottle. Then I looked at Tommy. "W-o-w," I gasped. My eyes bugged out and my mouth dropped open. My hands trembled so badly I barely managed to put the bottle down at the edge of Flat Rock. "Tommy. Y-y-you're sh-sh-shorter than me."
"I'm two inches taller than you and you know it." He tried to push me but his arms didn't go very far. "Hey." He stepped back and looked around. "Everything's bigger. The ground's closer than it should be. Is this log larger that it was?" Then he looked up at the Flat Rock. "Oh no," Tommy whispered. "The Flat Rock is higher than it should be."
His voice quivered. "I-I am getting shorter! Much shorter. W-what can I do, Steve? Help me!" Tommy reached high over his head trying to stretch himself taller. He stomped his feet up and down like he was running up stairs.
"Moving around like that might make you shrink faster. Let me see if I can pull you taller." I grabbed him under the arms and pulled as hard as I could. "Whoops. I stepped on your jeans."
Tommy jerked away from me and yanked his jeans above his waist. "You pulled them half off me, you numbskull." He turned away from me.
"You should see yourself," I laughed. "You look like you have on your daddy's clothes."
"It's not funny." Tommy sniffed. He sat down and rolled three large cuffs at the bottom of each leg.
"I know it isn't. I'm sorry." I looked around helplessly ... then sharply. I looked at the ground ... the rocks ... up at the trees ... over at the soccer field.
Tommy stood up. His jeans fell down to his ankles. "Steve! I'm smaller all over. What can I do?" He jerked the jeans above his waist.
"Step out of them," I said. I was paying no attention to Tommy. I stared at my soccer shorts in horror. They were now covering my knee pads.
"Sure wouldn't hurt anything," Tommy said bitterly. He pushed the top of the jeans flat and stepped over them. "Now my shirt's too long." He pulled the neck of his Scout shirt over his shoulder and worked his arm out. He did a couple of twisting moves. As he turned and writhed out of his shirt, he knocked his hamburger from the Flat Rock to the ground. He glanced at it, and shrugged his shoulders. With that shrug, the shirt fell to the ground. He stepped out of it. He grabbed his underwear quickly. It was slipping down fast. "What can I wear?" he muttered. Everything was so big.
I saw his problem. "Look! Behind the log. Is that gold thing your scarf?"
He snatched it, tied it around his waist, pulled the tail between his legs and tucked it in.
"T-T-Tommy, I'm shrinking too. My shorts cover my shin guards." I plopped down on the ground beside the Flat Rock.
Tommy grinned. "You'd better get them off before they swallow you."
"I'm trying to, but I can't bend my knees."
"Of course you can't. Those shin guards cover your whole leg now." Tommy bent over, tugged and twisted until he got them over my ankle and off my foot.
"Give me a hand up." I reached for Tommy. "You're so short!"
"I know. What if we shrink up to a speck of dust and blow away?"
"We'll have to hold on to something." I stood up and tried to pull the draw string of my shorts tight enough to hold them up. I looked up and saw Tommy dressed in his new costume. "La-te-da! The man wears a bright gold diaper," I teased. I stepped out of my shorts.
"You're jealous!" Tommy strutted around in his new clothes. He noticed my attempts to cover myself. "Hey Steve, try folding your soccer towel hot-dog style."
I did. It wrapped around my waist and looped over in front for a front flap. "Thanks. This works!" I jumped and took several stomping steps. "I even think it'll stay up."
Tommy was walking around the Flat Rock. "Ow-w-w!" he hollered and started hopping around.
"What happened?"
"I just stepped on an acorn."
"An acorn?! You're a wus."
"A wus, huh. You try stepping on one. Our feet are a whole lot smaller than they were a few minutes ago."
I was creeping to the woods.
"What are you doing?" Tommy hollered out.
"Aw. ... You scared it."
"Scared what?"
"A big crow that was perched on the rock. I wanted to see if I could get on it."
"So you could fly like a bird."
"Well we're small enough to."
I ran ahead of Tommy and tripped over some rocks that weren't even visible. "Ee-yow!!" I hollered as I hopped around. Then I fell into a hole. "Oh," I moaned and rubbed my head. I moved a little all over to see if I could.
I looked up. The sky was so far overhead. I tried to climb up the sides of my hole. No luck. There were no roots to grab. I tried to dig myself hand-holes, but my left hand couldn't hold me while my right hand dug a hole. "Tommy!" I yelled as loud as I could. "Tommy! Come help me."
"Where are you?"
"Over here," I yelled. "Be careful. I fell into a hole I couldn't see."
"Keep talking so I can find you." Tommy inched across the ground. His arm plunged down my hole. "Wow. I see you now. This hole really swallowed you."
Tommy stuck a branch down. I grabbed it and started climbing up the side of my mountain. "Now look where you were."
I looked down and realized I'd fallen into a mole hole. "Oh my gosh. We wouldn't have noticed that an hour ago."
"I know." We walked back to the Flat Rock very carefully.
CHAPTER 3
"How tall do you think we are now?" I asked Tommy.
"I don't know. My tape measure's clipped to my jeans." Tommy was trying to get it off. "Help me with this." We squeezed the clip that held the tape as hard as we could. Then we both put our feet on Tommy's jeans and pushed and shoved. Finally we pried it loose from the jeans. "Man. I had no idea it would be so hard to get that tape off."
"Yeah. Now it takes hard work for the two of us to do what one of us did easily a few minutes ago."
"Yeah."
"OK. I'll hold the case and you pull the tape ... on three. Ready? One. Two. Three." Tommy put the tape on his shoulder and started to walk away. He tugged the tape as hard as he could.
"We'll need a little more tape out. Pull ... pull ... there that should be enough." I slumped down on the case.
"Whew!" Tommy gasped and let go of the tape.
"Oh no!" I shouted. The tape, free from Tommy's grasp, ran back to the case.
"You let it go."
"Of course I let it go. I was tired. You should have pushed the stop button."
"Okay. Okay. Let's try again," I said. I placed both hands on the tape case to keep it from moving. "Now pull ... further ... further. You got enough out?"
"I think so. It looks longer than either of us. Push the stop button."
"It doesn't budge. I'll go to the side ..."
"The case is moving!"
"Got it. Better pull out some more tape."
"Darn. Don't let go of the case this time."
"I'll try. Got enough tape?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I'll hold the case with my knee and use both hands to push the button all the way in."
"Sounds good."
"Got it. Well. ..." I looked at Tommy. "Are you ready to find out how tall we really are?"
"I guess. You go first Steve."
"Okay." I lay down beside the tape with my feet close to the tape case.
"Scoot down a bit. Your head's above the top of the tape."
"Oka-ay. That enough?"
"Yeah. Let me see where your feet touch. Oh ... Steve.
You are twelve ... inches ... tall."
"Twelve inches? Oh. ... I can't be only twelve inches tall. Why a ruler's only twelve inches. I couldn't even kick a soccer ball."
"Kick a soccer ball. ... You'd have to run for your life if one came at you."
"MM-mm-m. I see what you mean." I walked around a bit and looked at my hands, my feet. I was realizing how very short I was. I tightened my towel, shrugged my shoulders. Everything felt OK. But my legs were so short. I reached my hands out. They didn't go very far.
"Now. My turn." Tommy lay down beside the tape.
I had Tommy scoot down a bit ... then back up.
"Com'on," Tommy protested. "You're sore because I. ..."
"I'm not one bit sore," I stated. "I'm just trying to get your exact height. And you are exactly fourteen inches tall, Tommy."
"Fourteen inches! I'm a giant!"
"Yeah. A real giant. Stop clowning."
"Right." He sat up and scratched his head. "What happened to us? How did we get this small?" He glared at the bottle and shook his head. Then he picked up a stick. "This is heavy, Steve." He hefted it above his head. "Oh I can lift it okay, but it is heavy."
I took it from him. "Wow. Of course. It's half my size."
Tommy took the stick back. He swung it around like a baseball bat. "We're going to have to re-learn. ..."
"No." I said firmly. "We are not going to have to re-learn anything. We are going to have to get back to our size." My mantra was: "Concentrate on what you can do; do the best you can. Don't worry about what others think." This thought had worked with soccer. It would work with this too.
Tommy took a step backwards and lost his footing. He sat down hard. ... but on something soft. He looked around him. Pushed it down. "Steve. Guess what I'm sitting on."
"What?" I looked at the woods. Where could that bottle have come from?
"You might enjoy it," Tommy said as he put a tiny handful in his mouth.
"Where is that bottle now?" I asked.
"I think I left it with our clothes. But come over here first."
"Give me a moment."
"Come over here and join me on my pillow." Tommy leaned back. "Being small does have some advantages."
I turned and looked at him. "I see what you mean." I reached out and grabbed a bite. "M-m-m. It's still good."
I grabbed the bun and pulled to climb on top. I landed on my back with a plop.
"Are you okay?"
"Just a little bruised ego." I got up, brushed off, and plopped on top of the bun.
"There you go," Tommy said. "Now I'll call you King of the Mountain."
I stood up, crossed my arms, and took a kingly stance. "Or should I say, 'King of the Burger'?"
"Either one." I stuffed a big bite of bun in my too-small mouth. "How did you get this in your mouth?"
"Tear off smaller pieces," Tommy laughed. I was trying to stuff a chunk of bun that was still above my nose into my mouth.
"I'm hungry. How do we get to the meat?"
"Just roll over on your tummy, reach down, and grab a handful."
"This is the first time I've laid down on my lunch."
"We can tell the guys about our lunch pillow when we get back home."
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "The Land of Idlewilde"
by .
Copyright © 2017 Ann Ritchie.
Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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