I decided over a year ago to try my hand at writing a book for kids in the 13-16 year old age group. I have enjoyed reading books with Michael, and I thought it would be fun to do an adventure story that also had a spiritual component. The result was my e-book, The Warrior's Box. The main character is a girl, unlike a lot of the books out there [Harry Potter, the Lightning Thief.]
The supernatural element in the book comes from God [the real one] so that's a twist. I am not trying to be preachy in the book, just more pro-faith than anything.
Sales have not been as brisk as I would like. If you want to read it, you must order the book from Publisher's Podium. That's the only way to get the book. It's not in hard copy, only an e-book. I hope many of you out there got Kindles and Nooks for Christmas.
To encourage sales, I am publishing here an excerpt from the book, the actual first chapter. If you like it, order the book, you can do so here. Thanks!
Chapter 1
Robin Barnes liked to read at night. Sometimes she would glance at the window and pretend the characters were all out there, in the dark. Even though it felt a little childish, Robin loved to do that. She looked at the window, peering past the blue curtains. All she could see was her own face reflected there. Robin had deep brown, almost black eyes, a fine strong nose, and wavy brown hair she’d inherited from her father. It was not a conventionally pretty face, but it was strong and sensitive.
It was the day before her 14th birthday, July 7th. Robin sighed, shut her book [Lord of the Rings] and yawned. Her Golden Retriever, May, was fast asleep, her head resting on Robin’s foot. Robin pulled her foot out gently, got up from the faded blue plaid sofa in the family room, and stretched. The book fell to the floor.
Robin was a bright, inquisitive girl and she had always instinctively known there was something unusual about her family. She had just never thought to pry into it. It was something that was simply in the air, like the scent of Lavender that clung to her grandmother Ida.
Robin had known from an early age that she was different from other girls. She was quiet and a bit reserved, at least in public. She loved to read. She could sing all the words to all the classic Beatles tunes from listening to the blue album she’d inherited from her dad. She liked ice cream with caramel sauce. She excelled at Monopoly. But that wasn’t everything.
Robin was slight, but phenomenally strong. She could do 100 pushups without breaking a sweat. She did 100 pushups and 50 stomach crunches every morning, like her uncle had taught her.
Robin was strong enough to lift May [75 lbs] into and out of the tub and bathe her weekly. She could beat any child in a foot race, from the time she was 5 and first tried it. She could swim half a mile without tiring. There simply wasn’t a sport at which she didn’t excel. She didn’t like team sports, though. Her grandmother always said it wasn’t really fair for her to play team sports, and Robin recognized the truth of that early on. She swam competitively through 6th grade and then quit. There was no contest to it, and she didn’t want to train for the Olympics, no matter what her coach said.
After turning off the downstairs lights and checking the door, Robin kissed her grandmother goodnight and headed upstairs to bed, as usual bounding up the stairs, skipping every other one. Her thick brown hair fell out of its ponytail but she ignored it. Robin usually left a trail of hair barrettes everywhere, because her hair refused to stay put.
After putting on her pajamas and stretching out on the little bed in her room, she mentally reviewed the day’s activities, as she did every day. She had gotten up early to do her chores before it got too hot, washed the breakfast dishes, swept the walkway in front of the house, mowed the yard, and helped Granny get her laundry started. She had played with May for a bit, throwing the tennis ball for her in the yard. Then she had eaten a sandwich for lunch and walked down to the neighborhood pool to swim with her friends.
After dinner she watched CNN, then Jeopardy, and then read for a while. Her grandmother didn’t allow her to watch much TV, which was OK with Robin because most of it was stupid, in her opinion. She wrote in her journal for a few minutes. She had been keeping it for years, just for fun.
It was a typical day.
After her review, she prayed, asking God to guide and protect her and her friends and family. Then she curled up on her left side and tried to sleep.
Robin’s parents died when she was a baby, killed in a car accident. Her grandmother, Ida Barnes, a retired schoolteacher, had taken Robin to raise. Robin’s mother Jenny had been an orphan, she was told, so there was only her father’s family.
Robin didn’t have but three photos of her mother Jenny, one of them the wedding photo. Robin looked nothing like Jenny, who had very dark straight hair, and was petite and olive-skinned. Robin guessed maybe she only got her small stature from her mom. She was probably never going to be taller than 5’3.
Robin went to the local public schools and attended First Methodist church with Ida every Sunday. Granny was a bit enfeebled by arthritis, but still sharp mentally. Robin also had some good friends in the neighborhood, and church friends rounded out her social circle. There were also occasional visits by her Uncle Travis, who was a surrogate father figure. Despite losing her parents so young, Robin had a good life and she felt loved.
Uncle Travis had reddish brown hair and freckles, like Robin’s dad. Robin liked to look at photos of her dad and Travis as kids. Although Robin’s dad, Tom, was quiet and not very athletic, Travis was tall and athletic. He liked to throw baseballs with Robin. He had taught Robin how to ride a bike, and about the outdoors.
Uncle Travis was no ordinary guy. He worked for the National Defense Agency, which is like the CIA only more secret, so he couldn’t tell Robin exactly what he did. Uncle Travis would disappear sometimes for a couple of months, and then show up one day for a visit. If Robin asked where he had been [which she hardly ever bothered with any more] Uncle Travis would just smile and just say, “I was on a trip to improve foreign relations, Robin. Very boring stuff.”
Robin knew it wasn’t boring, but Granny had told her not to bother her uncle.
On this night, Robin was trying to go to sleep, staring at the light blue walls of her room, and the model airplanes hanging from the ceiling. She thought longingly about her father. Tom Barnes had been raised in this same house, and Robin had inherited her dad’s old room. She had declined her grandmother’s offer to redecorate it in a more girlish way. Robin wasn’t into girlish things, but more importantly she wanted to feel close to her dad, and keeping the room intact felt right. Robin had a nice collection of old baseball cards, some model airplanes, three of her mother’s necklaces, a Dell computer, a collection of rocks, and a box she couldn’t get open.
Why would Dad keep a box he couldn’t open? She wondered that every time she thought about the box.
Robin had found the box when she was eight. It was on the top shelf of the closet, behind an old deflated football and a stack of magazines. The box was about the size of a shoebox and was some kind of grayish brown metal. It looked like the top would lift right off, but it didn’t. There was no way to open it. It was quite heavy, and Robin had nearly fallen getting it down from the closet. She had asked her grandmother about the box. Ida had appeared in her doorway and looked at the box, a small frown on her face.
“Lord, Robin, I had forgotten all about that thing. You can ask Travis how to open it, but I have no idea. Just leave it alone for now. Come on in the kitchen and let’s go over your spelling words,” she finished up.
“But Granny – “
“Now, young lady. You need to make a hundred on the test tomorrow if you’re going to get an A, and you know how I feel about that.”
Robin had trudged into the kitchen, which was fragrant with the smells of butterbeans and pork chops, and reluctantly gone over her spelling words. Her grandmother pushed her academically but she didn’t mind. Most schoolwork was easy for her. She wondered about that box, though, for years afterwards.
As 13 year old Robin pondered it all, she wondered how the box would feel now, since she was older and stronger. She got out of bed and lifted it down from the closet and for some reason she couldn’t identify, she rubbed the smooth top of it. It seemed to be warm. No, she shook her head, that can’t be right. I’m sleepy, she thought, as she climbed back into bed and looked at the box, now sitting on her desk. Robin felt her eyelids getting heavy, and sleep settling on her. Just before she closed his eyes, she heard someone say her name.
Robin rarely dreamed, and when she did, she didn’t remember her dreams. Tonight was different, though. Tonight, Robin experienced a dream like no other she’d ever had.
It began with Robin walking along a street where she had lived with her parents, to the small brick house at 1231 Greendale Drive. Granny had driven by the house and shown it to her many times. Tonight, though, in her dream, there were no sounds, and no lights on in the houses. However, Robin could see everything quite clearly.
As she walked along, her parents suddenly appeared. Robin could only gape, because this had never happened before. Robin had few memories of her parents and only knew their images from the many photos scattered around the house.
Robin’s mother rushed towards her and enfolded her in her arms. She was glowing faintly, like a star. So was her dad, who hugged her next.
“Happy birthday kiddo,” her dad said, and suddenly Robin remembered her dad’s voice, even though she had been less than two years old when they died. It was an amazing feeling of love and awe and déjà vu, all at the same time.
The immediate area where they were standing was lit by a faint glow, a glow Robin couldn’t explain – like they were all three lit from within by flashlights or something.
Before Robin had time to ask her parents anything, an explosion ripped through the air nearby. A sound like multiple peals of thunder reverberated through the whole street. Robin was seized with a feeling in her gut of pure terror.
Robin’s parents put her between them and locked their arms together. Their light got stronger and stronger. Robin felt enveloped by love and strength, but still scared. Her parents got bigger and brighter, until they lost their human shapes and formed a protective bubble around Robin. She felt safer, but she also wondered what on earth was happening.
Suddenly a giant glowing ball the size of a car appeared and started rolling down the street, with a terrible screeching noise. Inside the orange ball she could see two black eyes. The ball got closer and closer, and Robin could hear screaming coming from inside the ball.
It was evil. She felt it.
The protective bubble around her seemed to coalesce into a solid shape, like plexiglass, although she could hear whispers, like her parents were just outside talking to each other.
The ball got closer and closer.
Suddenly the ball stopped. The entire street trembled. With a loud whoosh the ball exploded. Robin thought she heard her uncle’s voice yelling, and then she heard nothing else.
All was blackness.
Robin awoke with her sheets soaked in sweat like she had a fever. It was the greatest dream she had ever had, and she had never been as scared in her life.
She looked at the clock. It was 12:23. What a way to start my 14th birthday, she thought, trembling. To her surprise, she went back to sleep easily and slept without dreaming the rest of the night.
Recent Comments