Stories
SILENT STARRY NIGHT
A twig snapped. I pointed my flashlight ahead and half of the twig I had just stepped on tumbled down a steep drop. I looked back at my mom. “Maybe we should head back now, the path looks pretty steep...” I said, and our dog, Lulu, barked as if agreeing. We were taking lulu for a walk around Letchworth, a camping place we were staying at. “I guess so,” Mom said, so we turned back, stepping carefully over knotted roots in the hard grey dirt. At the top of the small path Mom whispered “look up!” Mom stopped to point up. The sky looked like some one had poked pin holes in the black sky, and now light was shining through. We sat down and I turned off my flashlight. The stars shone brighter still. I slowly lay down, squirming until the roots were as comfortable as they could get.
After a while I whispered “The stars are really beautiful.”
“I know” Mom whispered back.
The red fall maple leaves above me rustled and whispered to a magical silence. The stars shone, bleeding through the shading leaves. Me and Mom got up and walked to the cabin. I opened the door, flickering firelight spilling into the darkness. We walked inside.
FROZEN
Boys screamed, balloons popped. Girls chatted, our teacher yelled. Arrows were still flying at the targets set up at the back of the gym.
“Okay. Put everything down and go sit against the wall. EVERYONE. GO!” our gym teacher screamed, looking kind of pouty, like he was sad he had to stop us from playing. This managed to be heard, (somehow!) though, and we all went and sat down.
“You guys were so unsafe. So congratulations! This was your last archery class at south hill. On Friday you will sit, like this, against the wall, silent, the whole time.” Mr. Karlson threw his arms up like a dying bird and smirked.
I hate gym. Especially this year with Mr. Karlson. But this unit, I was really starting to like archery. I had got more than one bulls eye, and I was really proud. But this? Really? Really? How bad can school get? It was bad already, our whole class (except for me) was always loud, so we always got yelled at. I sit alone at a lunch table when the other class is not there. I am a nerd/nobody to most of the class.
I started to get cold. I started to freeze, shivering, as my happiness diminished. Why is Mr. Karlson so mean? WHY do my classmates ruin everything? WHY?
The only part, aparently, that wasn't frozen was my eyes. I could feel them get wet. The gym got blurry. I could see blurry Emma looking at me. Can she tell I'm almost crying? I don't care. Why should I?
I walked home, frosty breath puffing out. All the flowers in our garden were droopy. Frozen.
BOAT RACE
"Whap!” The sail of our small sailboat whipped around as my brother, Jasper, and I ducked and switched sides. We were headed back from a short sail across the lake to Silver Bay, a bay in Lake George. We were at a retreat there.
Small waves went under our boat and it went up... and down in a rhythmic soothing motion. In the distance the horse-shoe shaped bay was just visible. Fresh wet air brushed our cheeks.
“I can't wait until the race tomorrow!” I said as I pulled the sail tighter. This made the boat go faster, (like we were racing!) which, in turn, made the boat tip precariously. Jasper and I leaned back to balance it out.
“I know!” Jasper smiled as I pulled the sail even tighter. Misty water sprayed our faces, and I smiled as we zipped past an island.
As we got closer to the shore, I jumped out into the water, already having my swimsuit on. My toes just brushed the ground so I swam along a bit before I could touch enough to push the boat in. I clipped the boat to an anchor while Jasper folded the sail. We put our life jackets away and went to supper.
The next day, after lunch, I walked to the boat house. I was early, and my dad and his sailor companion, my friend Juliet, were not there. Neither was Jasper, who I was sailing with. I sighed and started wandering about, listening to a meeting that had just started.
“So this year we gained 10% in net profit, and we are looking at gaining another 10% next year...” Blah Blah Blah. I turned away and climbed a rail on the porch and carefully balanced on a piece of wood that was sticking out under the rail. The drop wasn't far, so the meeting-goers didn't look twice. This was a little more entertaining than eavesdropping on that boring meeting, but I was still glad when I spied Dad and Juliet walking towards the boat house with Jasper running after them.
By the time Jasper reached me I had climbed back over the rail and was waiting for him. He was breathing hard.
“Ready?” He said, starting towards the life jacket rack.
“Nope,” I said with a half hearted laugh. I quickly read over the rules which were propped on an easel.
Sailing Race
You will go around the course twice
No pushing boats
No tipping other boats
Blah Blah Blah
I started towards the sailing boats. The rules were easy. No problemo.
Me and Jasper chose a boat with white, yellow, and blue stripes. It was clean on the bottom and it looked pretty new. Jasper slid in the center board and undid the sail. He was the sailor. I just was on for the ride, but I got to hold the sail. I undid the last clip that held us to shore and I jumped aboard as the little boat slowly slipped out. When we got out of the marina and into the bay, we were a little discouraged to find that the sail flapped lazily around, useless without wind. But we made ourselves think “The wind will be better out of the bay” The five minute air horn sounded and I jumped. Butterflies started in my belly. We struggled to get to the buoy with no wind. The final horn sounded and we were even more discouraged to find we were the last to the buoy. But every one makes comebacks, right? The others slowly but surely floated ahead.
We were right about the wind being better out of the bay, but it was still not good. Halfway around the first lap the boat was almost at a stand-still. My brother and I sat, watching the others slowly (but faster than us!) make their way around. Then suddenly, “Whoosh!” the sail filled with wind and we raced ahead. I almost shouted with joy. But it seemed we had only gone 12 feet when the sail fell limp again. My face darkened. I was almost at the bursting point when we finished the first lap. The others had already gone halfway around their second lap. They were all in a big bunch, and as they rounded a corner they came so close that they bumped into each other! The drama soon ended and then there was nothing to distract us from the burning sun in our faces. Sweat made droplets on my face. One of the boats had broken out of the group and now was sailing far ahead. We had just passed the quarter mark when they passed the finish line. They had won the race. I had never really thought we would win the race, but just that cruel evidence at that hot, angry moment that we would not win was like a slap in the face. A little tear dribbled down my face. So we sat... and sat. I hate boring things, but I think I was about to die of boredom right then.
Then... very slowly... the main group of boats came with in 40ft of the finish line, Jasper and I tailing behind. The sails were full (all but ours, of course. Talk about bad luck!). And then... The wind stopped. Just like that! The boats just kind of floated with the current until a random boat crossed. Second place was claimed. I don't know how many other boats crossed, but all I know is that we crossed last. It was like when a bubble gets darker and darker until it pops. That is what happened. Two tears, four.
“I am the one steering!” Jasper said, putting the blame on himself when he saw my tears. I just shook my head, looking away and hiding my tear stained face in the sail. It was so embarrassing, crying like a little baby. But I just had to cry. I was hot, we lost, and I was just annoyed.
I jumped off early, letting the boat slowly pull me until I could touch the bottom. The water felt good as I dunked, washing away my tears and cooling my sunburns. I half-heartedly clipped the boat in.
As I walked on the dock to the boat house Dad asked “Why are you crying?” I just thought “Hmm. Try to guess! You're smart!”
Boiling heat and the weight of losing makes me irritable. I turned away, not wanting to talk.
But Dad went on with his “ It's stupid to cry, you are first time sailors, and you knew you wouldn't win!”
I argued, but what I really thought was “Don't argue with your crying daughter when she looses a race. She is probably not in the mood.” I definitely was not in the mood. So I couldn't wait to talk to Mom. She is a lot more practical and would probably sympathize. I really needed a hug. But she didn't sympathize. She just repeated what Dad said. So I sulked off and sat alone at the other end of the porch in a wicker rocking chair. When Mom got up to leave with Jasper, I ran up.
“Sorry I was crying” I barely squeak out in a nervous voice.
“But that's not what I was saying...” She said, but I could see she got it. I'm sorry. I think she also saw on my face that I was thinking “Now where is my hug?” Because then she hugs me. Warm and comfy. Mom hugs are the best. We headed in for supper.
What I learned is- don't plan to win. And be prepared to lose. And also, try to have fun!
A twig snapped. I pointed my flashlight ahead and half of the twig I had just stepped on tumbled down a steep drop. I looked back at my mom. “Maybe we should head back now, the path looks pretty steep...” I said, and our dog, Lulu, barked as if agreeing. We were taking lulu for a walk around Letchworth, a camping place we were staying at. “I guess so,” Mom said, so we turned back, stepping carefully over knotted roots in the hard grey dirt. At the top of the small path Mom whispered “look up!” Mom stopped to point up. The sky looked like some one had poked pin holes in the black sky, and now light was shining through. We sat down and I turned off my flashlight. The stars shone brighter still. I slowly lay down, squirming until the roots were as comfortable as they could get.
After a while I whispered “The stars are really beautiful.”
“I know” Mom whispered back.
The red fall maple leaves above me rustled and whispered to a magical silence. The stars shone, bleeding through the shading leaves. Me and Mom got up and walked to the cabin. I opened the door, flickering firelight spilling into the darkness. We walked inside.
FROZEN
Boys screamed, balloons popped. Girls chatted, our teacher yelled. Arrows were still flying at the targets set up at the back of the gym.
“Okay. Put everything down and go sit against the wall. EVERYONE. GO!” our gym teacher screamed, looking kind of pouty, like he was sad he had to stop us from playing. This managed to be heard, (somehow!) though, and we all went and sat down.
“You guys were so unsafe. So congratulations! This was your last archery class at south hill. On Friday you will sit, like this, against the wall, silent, the whole time.” Mr. Karlson threw his arms up like a dying bird and smirked.
I hate gym. Especially this year with Mr. Karlson. But this unit, I was really starting to like archery. I had got more than one bulls eye, and I was really proud. But this? Really? Really? How bad can school get? It was bad already, our whole class (except for me) was always loud, so we always got yelled at. I sit alone at a lunch table when the other class is not there. I am a nerd/nobody to most of the class.
I started to get cold. I started to freeze, shivering, as my happiness diminished. Why is Mr. Karlson so mean? WHY do my classmates ruin everything? WHY?
The only part, aparently, that wasn't frozen was my eyes. I could feel them get wet. The gym got blurry. I could see blurry Emma looking at me. Can she tell I'm almost crying? I don't care. Why should I?
I walked home, frosty breath puffing out. All the flowers in our garden were droopy. Frozen.
BOAT RACE
"Whap!” The sail of our small sailboat whipped around as my brother, Jasper, and I ducked and switched sides. We were headed back from a short sail across the lake to Silver Bay, a bay in Lake George. We were at a retreat there.
Small waves went under our boat and it went up... and down in a rhythmic soothing motion. In the distance the horse-shoe shaped bay was just visible. Fresh wet air brushed our cheeks.
“I can't wait until the race tomorrow!” I said as I pulled the sail tighter. This made the boat go faster, (like we were racing!) which, in turn, made the boat tip precariously. Jasper and I leaned back to balance it out.
“I know!” Jasper smiled as I pulled the sail even tighter. Misty water sprayed our faces, and I smiled as we zipped past an island.
As we got closer to the shore, I jumped out into the water, already having my swimsuit on. My toes just brushed the ground so I swam along a bit before I could touch enough to push the boat in. I clipped the boat to an anchor while Jasper folded the sail. We put our life jackets away and went to supper.
The next day, after lunch, I walked to the boat house. I was early, and my dad and his sailor companion, my friend Juliet, were not there. Neither was Jasper, who I was sailing with. I sighed and started wandering about, listening to a meeting that had just started.
“So this year we gained 10% in net profit, and we are looking at gaining another 10% next year...” Blah Blah Blah. I turned away and climbed a rail on the porch and carefully balanced on a piece of wood that was sticking out under the rail. The drop wasn't far, so the meeting-goers didn't look twice. This was a little more entertaining than eavesdropping on that boring meeting, but I was still glad when I spied Dad and Juliet walking towards the boat house with Jasper running after them.
By the time Jasper reached me I had climbed back over the rail and was waiting for him. He was breathing hard.
“Ready?” He said, starting towards the life jacket rack.
“Nope,” I said with a half hearted laugh. I quickly read over the rules which were propped on an easel.
Sailing Race
Me and Jasper chose a boat with white, yellow, and blue stripes. It was clean on the bottom and it looked pretty new. Jasper slid in the center board and undid the sail. He was the sailor. I just was on for the ride, but I got to hold the sail. I undid the last clip that held us to shore and I jumped aboard as the little boat slowly slipped out. When we got out of the marina and into the bay, we were a little discouraged to find that the sail flapped lazily around, useless without wind. But we made ourselves think “The wind will be better out of the bay” The five minute air horn sounded and I jumped. Butterflies started in my belly. We struggled to get to the buoy with no wind. The final horn sounded and we were even more discouraged to find we were the last to the buoy. But every one makes comebacks, right? The others slowly but surely floated ahead.
We were right about the wind being better out of the bay, but it was still not good. Halfway around the first lap the boat was almost at a stand-still. My brother and I sat, watching the others slowly (but faster than us!) make their way around. Then suddenly, “Whoosh!” the sail filled with wind and we raced ahead. I almost shouted with joy. But it seemed we had only gone 12 feet when the sail fell limp again. My face darkened. I was almost at the bursting point when we finished the first lap. The others had already gone halfway around their second lap. They were all in a big bunch, and as they rounded a corner they came so close that they bumped into each other! The drama soon ended and then there was nothing to distract us from the burning sun in our faces. Sweat made droplets on my face. One of the boats had broken out of the group and now was sailing far ahead. We had just passed the quarter mark when they passed the finish line. They had won the race. I had never really thought we would win the race, but just that cruel evidence at that hot, angry moment that we would not win was like a slap in the face. A little tear dribbled down my face. So we sat... and sat. I hate boring things, but I think I was about to die of boredom right then.
Then... very slowly... the main group of boats came with in 40ft of the finish line, Jasper and I tailing behind. The sails were full (all but ours, of course. Talk about bad luck!). And then... The wind stopped. Just like that! The boats just kind of floated with the current until a random boat crossed. Second place was claimed. I don't know how many other boats crossed, but all I know is that we crossed last. It was like when a bubble gets darker and darker until it pops. That is what happened. Two tears, four.
“I am the one steering!” Jasper said, putting the blame on himself when he saw my tears. I just shook my head, looking away and hiding my tear stained face in the sail. It was so embarrassing, crying like a little baby. But I just had to cry. I was hot, we lost, and I was just annoyed.
I jumped off early, letting the boat slowly pull me until I could touch the bottom. The water felt good as I dunked, washing away my tears and cooling my sunburns. I half-heartedly clipped the boat in.
As I walked on the dock to the boat house Dad asked “Why are you crying?” I just thought “Hmm. Try to guess! You're smart!”
Boiling heat and the weight of losing makes me irritable. I turned away, not wanting to talk.
But Dad went on with his “ It's stupid to cry, you are first time sailors, and you knew you wouldn't win!”
I argued, but what I really thought was “Don't argue with your crying daughter when she looses a race. She is probably not in the mood.” I definitely was not in the mood. So I couldn't wait to talk to Mom. She is a lot more practical and would probably sympathize. I really needed a hug. But she didn't sympathize. She just repeated what Dad said. So I sulked off and sat alone at the other end of the porch in a wicker rocking chair. When Mom got up to leave with Jasper, I ran up.
“Sorry I was crying” I barely squeak out in a nervous voice.
“But that's not what I was saying...” She said, but I could see she got it. I'm sorry. I think she also saw on my face that I was thinking “Now where is my hug?” Because then she hugs me. Warm and comfy. Mom hugs are the best. We headed in for supper.
What I learned is- don't plan to win. And be prepared to lose. And also, try to have fun!