Over the summer I started writing a middle-grade novel for my siblings. The premise is about a young girl born in a different world (though she doesn't know it) but living in ours. The name of the other land (as you can tell by the title) is Agrozan. It all starts when when someone shows up at her apartment to take her back that a series of events unfold and she finds herself in the midst of a land in turmoil under the rule of an evil queen. (Everything is based off of Grimm's fairy tales, I especially liked to include the not-so-well-known ones).
I have not yet finished the novel (who has the time?) and it is fairly rough so far, but I want to share the first part of it on here anyways.
Chapter One
I Fall Down a Fountain
My day started out fine, just like every other Saturday morning since I could remember. I slept in,
was rudely awakened by my cat Honey and had a bowl of cereal in front of the T.V. Just a normal
twelve year old’s version of paradise because my parents had gone grocery shopping and so of
course I did what everyone does when they find themselves home alone: I turned up the thermostat
and watched T.V.; with the volume up as high as I pleased. No one to yell ‘Turn it down Samantha’!
I know I’m in trouble when my parents call me by my full name, you can call me Sam thank you very
much. Honey settled down on my legs and purred contentedly. I rummaged around my cereal bowl
for the last Lucky Charms marshmallows and set aside the rest, which Honey quickly dug into
himself (yeah I know it sounds like a girls name, I was a weird kid). I flipped through the available
channels. A dart throwing contest of two men sweating profusely as they threw their darts at the
board in front of a large audience. Did anyone seriously pay to see this live? Click. Some doctor
swearing by a weight loss pill, a yellow one this time, last weeks pink had caused some sort of
scandal. “Just once a day and your fat melts away!”. Judging from the doctor’s shirt buttons, which
were barely hanging on in an effort to accommodate his large beer-belly, Dr. Dan didn’t believe in
trying the pills himself. Click. A tennis match in progress. I loved watching tennis, mind you I had no
idea how the game actually worked. But I found it absolutely hilarious how into it the players got.
‘Ha!’. ‘Oof’. ‘Ha!’.
The ball bounced out of the field amongst polite claps from the audience. Click.
Throughout all of this I had the weirdest feeling that I was being watched, which is ridiculous because
Honey was asleep again and I didn’t have any siblings. On a whim I turned and looked out our
apartment window, my heart stopped. I could have sworn I saw a man looking into the room, a funny
little man with a long beard and round nose. Living on the 6th floor in the middle of a Minneapolis
high-rise building, it’s not everyday you find someone looking through your windows. I waited with
baited breath.
Should I call the police? Mom always said ‘Call 911 if the kitchen’s on fire’ or ‘Get
Mrs. Larson to help you if Honey dies again.’ (yeah that was quite a story too). She failed to mention
the protocol for dealing with small bearded men peeking through the living room window. Our fire
escape was on the other side by the kitchens which meant he was standing on the ledge below the
window. I turned off the television and crept closer to the spot I thought I’d seen him in, not sure how
I would react if he suddenly popped up again. Scream? Call the police? Mrs. Larson? Scratch that
last one, she would probably offer him her Swedish butter cookies and ask if he had any kids. I was
under the window now, should I look?
I debated for a minute, perhaps I was being silly. Maybe it was just a pigeon. The ugliest pigeon in
Minneapolis. ‘It’s like ripping off a bandaid’ I told myself. I stood up and looked out, and screamed.
The small man had come up at the exact same time, mouth wide open.
I think he was screaming too, though I was too busy using my own vocal chords to properly
note what he was doing with his. Suddenly he disappeared. Had he fallen? I ran to the window but
I couldn’t see over the ledge. Mumbling some words which would probably have gotten me grounded
I ran out of our apartment, making a mental note to throw a quarter in the swearing jar later. The jar
was half full so far, not my doing (well maybe just a little, mostly it was Dad). Mom made him put a
quarter in everytime he swore, but I’m pretty sure the jar wasn’t nearly as full as it should be. I got
down the hall and half the stairwell before regretting my rush out, I’d forgotten my shoes. Suppose
the funny little man (well kinda creepy little man) was dead? I couldn’t take the chance. I made it
through the lobby and out the door on to the sidewalk. But there was no one there. No small-man-
pancake on the sidewalk, not even a dent in the flower beds. But there was a brick, which suspiciously
matched those of the ledge. I looked up, there was indeed a brick-sized gap below our living-room
window..
‘Looking for me?’
I spun around, there he was, leaning against the bike racks. I stared at him.
He was perhaps four feet tall, no more, his brown beard went past his belt. He was clad in all leather,
a small axe hung at his side. If you’ve ever seen a picture book with a dwarf in it, you know the kind,
they seem to be very generic.
‘You’re a dwarf!’ I sputtered.
Before remembering that that was not a polite thing to say. ‘Sorry. I meant little-person.’
Was that the proper thing to say? I couldn’t remember.
‘Little person?’ the dwarf looked at me. Then he laughed, a deep resounding bellow.
‘Har, har that’s a first!’ He wheezed. ‘Sorry she says! Little Person! Hee hee.’.
I waited for him to regain composure, I was sure little-person was better than dwarf.
‘Well it can’t be midget.’ I said half to myself, but I think the small man heard me, he stopped abruptly.
‘Nuh uh!’ he retorted, dead serious. ‘I’m a dwarf short and proud!’.
I stared at him, was he making fun of me? Was it sarcasm? A twinkle returned to the little man’s eye,
he started laughing again. ‘By the fairies she doesn’t believe me!’ he threw his head back and roared
with laughter. ‘Did you see that Gunnhild?’.
A raven materialized on the bike stand next to him. ‘Yes.’ It croaked solemnly.
‘She doesn’t know a thing.’.
That was kind of a rude thing to say, it’s not like I couldn’t tie my shoes by myself. I must still have
been staring because the Dwarf wiped a tear from the corner of his eyes and cleared his throat.
‘Let’s get straight to the point.’ he said. ‘You must be wondering why we’ve come now and who you
are and all that.’
I had in fact been wondering how he survived a six storey fall and was still in any condition to laugh
at me, and why he was here, and why he had a solemn raven named Gunnhild. Personally I’ve
always thought of Ravens as Edgards and Edwins or maybe Edwards and Edmunds. Don’t ask me
why. And I certainly had not been wondering who I was. I was 100% sure that my name was Sam
Lilton of apartment 47, floor 6, James Street Minneapolis. Just a regular twelve year old who liked
cupcakes and hated middle school with a burning passion.
‘No. Why aren’t you dead?’. I blurted out.
That was probably kind of a rude way to phrase it, but hey can you blame me after the scare he gave
me?
‘Ha what a girl.’ said the Dwarf with a chuckle, then to the Raven: ‘I’m beginning to like this one.’.
‘As opposed to the other ones?’ I asked.
Apparently this was a regular occurrence.
‘You catch on quick!’ the Dwarf said proudly.
I still wasn’t getting any answers.
‘So is this like your day job, climbing on people’s window sills then pretending to die so you can
laugh at them when they find you very much alive on the sidewalk?’.
I said it as a bit of a challenge, I was rather grumpy because I had just remembered that we had
some cake left in the fridge and if I could get back up before my parents came back I could have a
slice for breakfast to make up for the lack of marshmallows in my cereal.
‘We really should get going.’ the raven Gunnhild croaked to the Dwarf, ‘We can answer her questions
on the way there.’.
The raven disappeared, simply vanishing into thin air. Except in was June so the air was rather thick
and stuffy.
‘To answer your question, you scared me and I fell off your ledge.’ The Dwarf said. ‘You really ought
to me more considerate you know.’.
He wagged his finger at me like it was my fault he was up there in the first place.
‘How’d you survive?’. I asked, more curious than anything.
‘I’m a dwarf!’. The Dwarf answered proudly, as if that should explain everything.
‘Gee I forgot. Look my parents will be back any moment now and I have things to do.’
I racked my head for something. ‘Gotta feed the cat.’.
‘Looked plenty fat to me.’ the Dwarf laughed.
Let’s just say Honey had a healthy appetite for junk food.
‘Look mr-dwarf-whoever-you-are, only I get to insult my cat.’ I said in a low voice. ‘Good day!’.
With that brave exit I turned to find the door behind me locked. In my rush to get outside I’d forgotten
the key to the front door and our apartment door. And I still had no shoes. I turned to find the Dwarf
still standing by the bike rack, arms crossed, smile on his ugly face.
‘No key huh?’ He said somewhat smugly. ‘And I can’t imagine you’re as good a climber as I am.’
‘You fell off.’ I reminded him.
He shrugged, ‘Like I said, your fault.’.
I was getting more than grumpy, I was angry.
‘What do you want with me?!!’ I half-shouted, half-hissed the question at him.
He didn’t flinch.
‘Yup. Strong parentage.’.
He nodded to himself apparently satisfied that my anger had confirmed something. I had no idea
what he meant, my mom and dad were of the very average variety, both teachers at Jemison High
and except for the aforementioned swear jar it was a pretty boring life, the kind of boring all parents
want for their children.
‘Look kid this will go a lot easier if you just cooperate and come along peacefully.’
‘You’re a stranger.’ I said.
Really I simply didn’t feel like being told what to do by some man shorter than me who had the
audacity to say it was my fault he fell off a six storey ledge when I hadn’t asked him to be there in
the first place.
‘Name’s Fred.’ The Dwarf replied briskly. ‘You’re Sam. Now we’re not strangers. Come along.’. He
turned, apparently expecting me to follow.
I called after him. ‘How do you know my name?’.
‘You’re on my scroll.’ Fred called back.
I ran after him as fast as I could in my not-so-clean white socks. I caught up to him slightly out of
breath, I never liked exercise much and as a city kid I had no practise in going around without some
form of footwear.
‘I don’t have any shoes!’ I complained loudly.
‘That’s a shame.’ replied Fred, like it really wasn’t that big of a deal. I tried again.
‘Why do you have a scroll with my name on it? Where are we going? Am I going to be back in time
for dinner?’. Fred chose to only answer my last question.
‘Doubtful.’ he said.
‘Is this going to be one of those adventures like in books and movies?’.
‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
Fred stopped and I nearly ran into his backside. ‘Hey why’d you…’ before I could protest Fred
clapped a hand over my mouth and pulled me into an alleyway. I struggled but the Dwarf was
surprisingly strong.
‘Stop it!’ He hissed. I stopped. Fred un-clapped his hand from my mouth, which now tasted like steel
and earth. He kept me out of sight and held fast behind his back as he peered out into the street.
‘What is he doing here?’ He whispered to himself.
‘Who?’ I asked. Fred didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t, it was probably just another regular day
kidnapping kids who forgot their keys and shoes.
‘Ok I think he’s gone’. The dwarf gave the street one more scan and pulled me back out into the
daylight.
‘He?’
‘I’ll explain later’ said Fred.
‘Why can’t you tell me now!? And where are we going?’ I asked, anger creeping back into my voice.
I’m not sure why I was still following him, but the city had started to look unfamiliar and I wasn’t
sure how to get back on my own. How far had we walked? There was a hole in my sock, Mom
wasn’t going to be happy… Mom.
‘My parents are going to call the police when they find out I’m gone.’ I told the Dwarf defiantly.
‘Oh don’t worry about that.’ Fred replied calmly. ‘We left them a letter.’
‘I don’t think a ransom note is going to reassure them very much.’ I spat. Fred laughed. ‘Ha! You
are a smart one aren’t you? One of the cheekiest I’ve had in a while, they’re going to love you!’.
‘Who?’. I was starting to sound like an owl, I’m not sure why I bothered, of course Fred didn’t answer.
To be continued in a future post...
~*~
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