This is the 5th installment of the book I am currently writing. It is Sci-Fi/Adventure for young adult. It is not part of the Oz Chronicle series. The final version of the book will most likely look a bit different than what you read here, but I thought you might like to see a work in progress. Click on the “Lost Days Book” category on the right to read from the beginning. Or you can click here.
I couldn’t sleep thinking about the mall, and Joyner. We’d gone to school together since we were in second grade. He had never talked to me before. I wondered what was so different at the mall today. Why did he talk to me? Was this some kind of Carrie thing? Was he making fun of the awkward girl? Being nice to me to my face and then betting his friends that he can get me to… do things with him? Had to be what was going on. Why else would he talk to me?
I stared at the ceiling. A chill blew in from the window. Grover liked it opened just a crack. Something about the noise outside made him sleep better. Anything that stopped him from whining was just fine by me. He was snoozing away on the other side of the room without a care in the world. He’d all ready forgotten that he had a crazy uncle living in our grandparents’ FROG.
I heard a banging noise outside and sat up with a jolt. Murmuring voices drifted along the cool breeze. I quietly swung my legs over the edge of the bed and tiptoed to the window. Uncle Crew was inserting a key to the door of the FROG to lock it. Another man, big, scraggly beard, long hair under a black White Sox cap, was at the bottom of the stairs whispering loudly. I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Uncle Crew pulled the key out of the lock and shoved it in his pocket. He admonished the man for being too loud. He picked up a backpack and looped it over his right shoulder and bound down the stairs like he was in a hurry. The man turned as Uncle Crew passed him and I could see his face. He looked like your average run of the mill friend of a crazy man. He peered up at the window and I fell to floor like I’d been shot.
Grover stirred and looked out from his covers. “What’s going on?” he asked in a groggy voice.
“Nothing,” I said.
He looked at me with one eye shut. “You fall out of bed?”
“Yeah,” I said backing away from the window on all fours.
“Now what are you doing?”
“None of your business. Go back to sleep.”
I didn’t have to tell him twice. He closed his eye and fell asleep almost as quickly as he’d woken up.
I stood and took a cautious step toward the window. I lifted my chin and strained to see what was going on without being seen. They were gone. I thought about running to my grandparents’ room and telling them Uncle Crew had left, but I wasn’t sure if had broken any rule. He was a grown man after all. Besides the fact that he’s a raving lunatic, he should be able to come and go as he pleases, I guess.
I laid back down in my bed and tried to stop thinking about Uncle Crew and his puffed-up Charles Manson looking friend, and Joyner and any other square peg that didn’t fit in my round life so I could fall asleep. My mind ran through the visuals of the day, and then I started to drift into a light and restless sleep.