Linda Joy Singleton, page 1
MAIL-ORDER MONSTER
by Linda Joy Singleton
A Middle Grade Novel
©copyright by Linda Joy Singleton, June 2001
Cover Art by Eliza Black
1-58608-217-5
Gemstar Edition 1-58608-377-5
CHAPTER ONE
“Rattlesnake grass!” Skye Jones exclaimed, bouncing off her patchwork quilted bed.
Skye hurried over to her desk and found a thick book of Western plants. She pushed her glasses up high on her nose, eagerly checked the back index, then flipped to the B’s for briza maxima.
“Eureka!” Skye pointed to a tiny drawing of a long-stemmed plant with dangling pods that looked like rattlers. It was the same plant she’d spotted growing in a ditch on her way home from school.
Skye smiled, and felt hopeful for the first time that day. Aunt Glory and Aunt Belle would love a bouquet of rattlesnake grass for their dried flower arrangements. A gift of decorative weeds was the perfect way to say, “I’m sorry.”
Skye’s smile faded as she remembered what she was sorry for. Boy, had she blown it this time. She might as well place an ad in the newspaper to announce: Skye Jones messes up again.
She pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t start crying. Crying was for babies, not sixth graders. She hated crying almost as much as she hated failing. If only she hadn’t flunked that dumb geography test. She’d never been an A student, but she’d always earned okay grades.
Until today.
Why did she need to know where Tasmania, Copenhagen, or Malta were on a map anyway? She’d never traveled further than Hickory Town. And that had only been once.
Nervously, Skye paced her cocoa-colored carpet. Sneaking out when she was supposed to be studying was risky. It would be night-time soon, and gathering wild grass in the dark was scary. So many things could go wrong … .
She could get lost.
Or she could stumble over log and break her leg.
Or WORSE—a vicious animal could attack her.
Skye gritted her teeth and vowed: Nothing will go wrong.
She found a small burlap sack, grabbed a flashlight, and tip-toed out of her bedroom. It was now or never.
Taking a deep breath, Skye quietly slipped down the stairs.
As she passed the kitchen, she heard the soft murmur of voices. A strong sweet and tangy smell filled the air, and she knew her twin great-aunts were cooking another batch of goats’ milk. They made goat cheese, goat soap, and unique dried-flower baskets. These creations were sold through their mail-order business, “Just Kidding.” Aunt Glory and Aunt Belle would be busy for hours.
Good, Skye thought. There would be enough time to walk down the street, gather a cluster of rattlesnake grass, and sneak back into the house. Her aunts would never know she’d been gone.
Skye stepped outside into the dusky evening. The sun had sunk behind western hills, and a sliver of moon looked silver in the twilight.
She pulled out her flashlight, pushed the “on” switch, and a yellow beacon shone a bright path down the narrow, rutted country road. There was no sidewalk, only a worn trail through weeds.
Her heart pounded loudly as she aimed the flashlight straight ahead. Trees and bushes seemed taller, darker, and scarier at night. Faint rustling sounds sent shivers up and down her spine.
Skye had never been afraid of the dark—but she could learn. Her teacher, Mr. Reuben, had said she was a very quick learner.
There was a loud crackling sound and Skye froze on the weedy grass. Was it a wild animal? Was she being stalked by serial killer? Or had her aunts followed her?
“Boo!” a girl’s voice shouted.
Startled, Skye whirled around.
She groaned, and decided she’d rather take her chances with a wild animal. A savage beast was friendlier than the two girls who faced her. Viera Galvez and Priscilla St. James were the most popular girls in sixth grade, or as Skye secretly called them: Enemy One and Enemy Two.
“Gotcha, Skye!” Viera roared. “Scared you big time!”
“Yeah. Ha. Ha,” Skye replied sarcastically, hiding the sack behind her back.
“What’cha sneaking around for?” petite, blond Priscilla questioned.
“Yeah.” Viera shone a tiny flashlight into Skye’s eyes. “We saw you creeping past my house and got curious. Why are you walking down a dead end road?”
“No special re-reason,” she stammered, adjusting her glasses to shield her eyes from Viera’s flashlight.
“You look guilty. You’re up to something,” Viera accused.
Priscilla nudged her friend and giggled. “Something weird, I bet.”
“With Skye Jones, it’s always something weird.” Viera almost doubled over with laughter.
Skye’s cheeks felt hot. She knew her classmates thought she was strange. They teased her about her oval pink glasses, her curly toffee-brown hair, and the homemade dresses her aunts sewed for her. Being different was the pits. Skye wished she could fit in. But she didn’t have a clue as to how.
“I-I’ve got to go,” Skye said, backing away.
“Not so fast.” Viera’s cool fingers encircled Skye’s wrist. “What are you hiding behind your back?”
“Just a bag.”
“What’s in it?” Viera persisted.
“Nothing. Now I really have to leave … .”
Viera released her wrist. “You’re acting weird. Weirder than usual. And you’re really nervous. How come you’re sneaking around?”
“I bet she’s gathering ingredients for her witchy aunts,” Priscilla said in a hushed tone. “I’ve seen them brewing potions in a spooky caldron.”
“My aunts make soap,” Skye snapped, her embarrassment heating to anger. It was one thing to make fun of Skye, but they had no right to insult her aunts. Aunt Glory and Aunt Belle were the kindest, sweetest people in the universe. Sure they were old-fashioned, but they loved Skye like a daughter. They’d taken her in when no one else would.
“Normal people buy soap at the store,” Viera sneered, flipping her satin-black hair behind her shoulders. “You sure are loony.”
“Loony-toon!” Priscilla added.
“That’s not true! My aunts’ goat milk soap is wonderful. People order it from all over the world. Their mail-order business is famous.”
“Famous?” Viera snorted. “Yeah, right. And you’re really a princess in disguise. A goat princess!” She rolled her eyes and tapped Priscilla on the shoulder. “We’d better go before Skye’s weirdness rubs off on us.”
“I bet her aunts are really witches,” Priscilla said.
“Brewing goat milk soap sounds like black magic to me,” Viera agreed. “Wait till the kids at school hear this!”
Then both girls walked off, laughing, leaving Skye standing alone.
Always alone.
And it hurt.
Tears stung Skye’s eyes. Why were Priscilla and Viera so mean to her? She tried to be friendly, but it never worked. She didn’t understand other girls. It was like they were from another planet and spoke an alien language. They gossiped about TV stars, clothes, and boys. But Skye seldom watched TV, wore boring hand sewn clothes, and would probably never have a boyfriend.
Skye loved animals, gardening, nature walks, and learning about science. Important stuff that might seem weird to other kids.
Skye sighed. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t solve anything. She’d better get some rattlesnake grass. Although, with cruel words still ringing in her ears, her goal no longer seemed special. Sure, Aunt Belle and Aunt Glory would love the wild grass, but they’d still be unhappy about the bad geography grade. Skye would never forget the disappointed looks on their faces when she’d showed them that ugly black-inked “F”.
But life goes on—even when you’re having the worst day of your entire life.
So Skye straightened her shoulders, pushed painful feelings aside, and went after the rattlesnake grass.
CHAPTER TWO
“Anything can be ordered through the mail,” Aunt Glory said the next evening as she picked up a magazine from the coffee table. “Postal employees are miracle workers.”
“I agree, Glorianne.” Aunt Belle flipped through a Dairy Digest Magazine, her pen handy in case she wanted to jot down an interesting ad. Mail-order shopping was a hobby both Skye’s aunts enjoyed. Every night they gathered in the den and sorted through piles of magazines.
“Skye, would you like a magazine?” Aunt Glory asked.
“Not really.” She stared blankly at a wall and rocked back and forth in a wooden chair.
Aunt Glory glanced at her great-niece in concern. “You’re awfully quiet, sweetie. How was school?”
“The same.” Skye could have added that today was worst than usual. Normally popular kids like Viera and Priscilla just ignored her. But today they clustered in whispering, giggling groups, and Skye knew exactly who they were gossiping about. Weird Skye Jones.
She felt so alone. If only she had a special friend of her own. Someone to share giggles and gossip with: a best friend.
Aunt Glory reached over to pat Skye’s hand. “Did I tell you how much we enjoyed the rattlesnake grass? Belle and I used it in a basket this morning.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“We loved it,” Aunt Belle said enthusiastically.
Skye knew her aunts were trying to cheer her up, so she tried to look happy, but couldn’t quite curve her lips upwards.
Tall, slender, blue-haired Aunt Glory handed Skye a magazine c
“I’d rather find a best friend.”
Tall, sturdy, blue-haired Aunt Belle patted Skye’s hand. “If you need a friend, you know where to find one.”
“Not at Royal Star School, that’s for sure.”
“Try a magazine or catalog,” Aunt Belle said. “Write to a pen pal.”
“A splendid suggestion, Annabelle,” Aunt Glory said. “Pen pals make wonderful friends.”
“Well, I guess I could look.” Skye flipped through Serendipity. The catalog advertised unusual novelty items. Doorstops, decorative flags, designer mugs, glow-in-the-dark makeup, and even magic wands.
No pen pals here.
She tossed Serendipity aside and found a smaller, plain orange-covered catalog. This one was called Kindred Spirits. Hmmm, what an unusual title, Skye thought. She’d never heard of it before. “Kindred” and “spirits” could mean several things: happy thoughts, spooky ghosts, or good friends. Definitely worth checking out.
When Skye looked inside, she saw long columns of printed names and addresses. Were these potential pen pals? Kindred Spirits was like a phone book, yet different. Occasionally there were large words in bold dark ink. Odd words like: Familiars, Apothecaries, and Incarnations. Intriguing, puzzling words.
Skye’s curiosity grew.
She thumbed to the back of the magazine and stopped when two words seemed to jump out at her: Special-Tee Fiends.
“Fiends?” she wondered. That couldn’t be the right word. Kindred Spirits really goofed. Skye guessed grown-ups made mistakes just like kids. She thought of the error she’d made on her last spelling test. She’d forgotten to put the “e” in “gruesome.” Obviously, Kindred Spirits had forgotten to include the “r” in “friends.” The ad should have read: Special-Tee Friends.
A special friend was exactly what Skye needed.
Her sour mood lifted. Having a pen pal would be fun. They’d share letters, secrets, and eventually visit each other. Skye hoped Special-Tee Friends would match her with someone nice.
She read on: Carefully describe your special request and wait seven days for a reply.
There were no other instructions, just a P.O. box in Specter, California.
Simple enough.
Skye found a pen and paper and wrote: “I’m requesting a girl, age eleven. She has to love animals, science, and adventure. I want her to understand me, like she knows what I’m thinking. And I hope she can be my best friend. Sincerely, Skye Jones.”
She smiled at her letter.
In seven days she would have a pen pal.
Aunt Glory was right. Anything can be ordered through the mail.
Even a best friend.
CHAPTER THREE
Skye ducked as a paper airplane zoomed over her lunch tray. She heard laughs and snickers from a back table, yet she didn’t turn around. She refused to let gross boys like Brian and Tyrone annoy her, no matter how hard they tried.
Skye nibbled on a carrot stick and stared straight ahead. She watched Viera, Priscilla, and some other girls share secrets. Gossiping girls behind her and gross boys in front of her. She was surrounded by enemies. Lunch time at Royal Star School was like a war zone, and Skye didn’t have an ally to call her own.
But there was hope.
Soon she’d have a pen pal, a nice girl who’d share her interests. Only six more days. Time couldn’t pass fast enough.
Another low-flying plane swished by and circled Skye’s curls. She was annoyed, but kept her cool. She merely fluffed her hair and went on eating. In a few minutes, she’d be finished and free to leave. Brian and Tyrone couldn’t tease her once she left the cafeteria and entered the quiet safety of the library.
Skye’s tray was empty, except for a puddle of gooey seaweed masquerading as lime Jell-O. Fortunately, she had brought her own dessert. She withdrew four long black spirals from her backpack and slipped one tangy spiral into her mouth.
Hmmm, she thought, delicious black licorice. My favorite food. Even better than Aunt Glory’s goat-cheese yogurt ice cream.
Skye’s gaze drifted past Viera’s group of friends. At a narrow corner back table, Kristen O’Malley read a book and ate from a bagged lunch. Kristen’s short auburn hair shone, and she was smiling. Kristen always smiled. Eating solo didn’t seem to bother her.
As Skye chewed licorice, she wondered why Kristen seemed different from other girls in Mr. Reuben’s class. Kristen didn’t tease Skye, she enjoyed studying, and she kept to herself. Other kids seemed to respect Kristen, although Skye wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Kristen never tried to impress anyone. She did exactly what she wanted and didn’t care what others thought.
Wow! Skye thought, What a great attitude. I wish I could be like Kristen. But even more, I wish Kristen could be my friend.
Only Skye was afraid to approach Kristen.
What if Kristen thought she was weird?
There was a shout from behind. “Ready! Aim! Take-off!” Brian exclaimed.
Those dumb boys were at it again.
Skye braced herself, knowing another aerial attack was coming. An instant later, a swift paper plane swooshed by her ears and snagged in her curls.
“Hey! Cut that out!” she cried, whirling around.
Brian, Tyrone, and some other boys laughed.
Skye stood and snatched the airplane from her hair. She glared at her tormentors. Then she deliberately crumpled the paper plane in her hand.
“Hey!” Tyrone yipped. “You squashed my bomber!”
“Serves you right. You can have your stupid bomber!” Skye aimed carefully and threw the crumpled ball. Contact! She scored a direct hit on Tyrone’s cropped dark head. One pesky boy smacked down with his own weapon.
Skye quickly gathered her stuff and crammed the rest of her licorice into her mouth. She’d better go before Tyrone and Brian sent out another air strike.
She headed for a side door, but stopped when she heard her name being called. Turning, she saw Kristen waving at her.
“Over here, Skye,” Kristen invited, pushing back her shiny auburn bangs.
Skye couldn’t believe her own eyes and ears. Kristen O’Malley wanted to talk to her! Incredible!
Thrilled, Skye hurried over.
Kristen welcomed Skye with a wide grin. “Congratulations, Skye. I was wondering if you’d ever fight back.”
“Huh?” Skye mumbled. She couldn’t talk because her mouth was still stuffed with spicy licorice.
“Tyrone and Brian are dimwitted, idiotic, and infantile.”
Skye nodded in agreement. “Uh uh.”
“They’re creeps,” Kristen added, then took a sip of her cherry cola. “I loved it when you crushed their dumb plane. Want to sit with me?”
Skye almost burst into a joyous song. Boy, did she ever want to sit with Kristen! She felt like shouting, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” But licorice still filled her mouth, so she could only nod. A very happy, eager nod.
“I don’t usually like company at lunch,” Kristen admitted as Skye sat across from her. Kristen held up a colorful paperback with a flying unicorn on the cover. The book’s title was The Flying Sorcerer. “I’m a bookaholic and I’d rather read than talk. But the way you got even with Tyrone really wowed me. Figured it’d be more fun talking to you than reading. Do you like to read?”
Skye bobbed her head, and chewed faster. She would read a whole set of encyclopedias if that would “wow” Kristen. Skye liked National Geographic and animal books better than fantasy, but she’d give anything a try in the name of friendship.
Kristen smiled. “I read twenty-seven books last month, and I’m aiming for thirty this month. Maybe we can read together after school sometime.” Kristen sat down her novel and added, “I’m glad you finally stood up to those bullies.”
Skye mumbled, “Uh huh.”
“They’ll think twice before bugging you again.”
Skye nodded.
“Sixth graders can be so childish,” Kristen added.
Skye thought about reminding Kristen that they were both sixth graders, too. But maybe Kristen just meant sixth grade boys.
“Have you decided on your science project yet?” Kristen asked. “I’m doing a study on magic. Spells, potions, and slight of hand tricks. I plan to compare simple magic tricks with mysterious, unexplained happenings.”
