I recently found an author of adorable and quirky short stories named Penny Hickenbothom. She writes in an almost amateur way, child-like and creative, slightly reminding me of an author by the name of Barbara Park. Park wrote a series called Junie B. Jones, and when I was younger I read that series religiously. I still love the books a ton. Anyhow, I'd like to share a couple of Ms. Hickenbothom's stories with you. The first is entitled, "Darrell the Ghost." Enjoy!
Darrell is a ghost. He lives on the twenty-fourth floor of the second tallest building in the ninth largest city in the United States. Down in the floor underneath Darrell's floor lives a little boy who is nine and three quarters and is so excited because he knows that soon he will be ten years old! He will pretty much be all grown up. Sometimes though, the little boy doesn't feel grown up. Especially when he's trying to go to sleep. It's not the boy's fault though- really! Darrell likes to float in and fly around his room and whisper and make funny noises, and it really scares the little boy. Normally the little boy gets under the covers and talks to himself until he passes out, but one night he decided that enough was enough. Darrell was not going to bother him anymore! So he waited, and when Darrell came to him, the little boy told him that he wasn't going to let him scare him anymore. Well, Darrell didn't like that. He started screaming and wailing and just being a big 'ole meanie. So the little boy did the only thing he knew to do: he went and got his dad. Maybe- maybe he was too old to get in bed with his parents, but he knew he wasn't too old for his dad to come. So he ran to his dad's room and said,
"Daddy, there's a mean ghost in my room and I can't go to sleep..." So his dad got up and went and sat with his little son.
The dad sat and talked to his boy and told him stories about when he was a little boy and how his dad would rub his head and talk to him, and then his dad told him about how strong he is, and then, because the boy was still awake, the dad began to sing to him in his deep, baritone voice. Maybe it was the nice, calming tune, or maybe it was the sound of his father's voice, but the little boy knew that the feel of his father's low humming rumbling against his ear was the most warm and relaxing feeling, and soon the boy was sound-asleep. The boy's dad then slipped away to his warm room and thought of his own dad... And while everyone slipped into their dreams, Darrell just sat and smiled.
This next story didn't appear to have a title, so I'll just present the goods!
There is a big building in which children come to learn every single day. We come because we're told that attendance is crucial for our future, because our parents expect it- but mostly because if we don't, we will be punished by death! Going into this building would not be so awful in itself except the building has no windows. Apparently windows promote daydreaming, which leads to time being wasted... That's something that I've always had trouble coming to full grips with. My day dreams are my freedom to a deeper level of my mind: an avenue into my soul. So I dream. It was quite an amazing discovery one day to find that the bathroom in the hallway of the top floor had a stall at the end with a ginormous window! It was locked shut and the glass was fogged over, so even though it allowed in light, staring out wasn't an option. Sitting there feeling more distressed than ever before, I'd noticed the locks were very rusty. It took no strength at all to get the window open! Immediately a gust of clean, unfiltered, invisible air teared my eyes and brushed my face! Opening it more, I could see a field with two or three trees blowing gently, showing no resistance to what the breeze demanded of them. My eyes were as wide as I could make them, trying to get as much of this sight in as I could possibly pull through that window. It didn't feel like I was stealing the sight; it was more like I was sharing with the life outside of this hard building. Realizing I had no more time, I pulled my pants up, and like many other eight year old boys, I forgot to zip them properly. Rushing into my art class, my evil art teacher showed me one of her terrible faces and proceeded to yell as the whole class could hear what she said... That is all but me. Seeing that sight was all I needed! I was addicted to that one breath of freedom far from that cold art classroom. The paint colors were pale and left wanting. As soon as class was over I ran back to that bathroom. I know, it's just school! Why couldn't I have just waited 'til school was over? Because as an eight year old, seven hours of school felt like an entire period of seven days! Well after a couple of weeks of my sneaking off, my friends got suspicious. They followed me one day, and when they discovered what I was doing, they tried to stop me, but quickly I realized that they wanted in. Now by this time I had made myself a little home in that stall! The toilet was replaced by a bean bag chair, the walls had been painted a nice green, and I kept a candle burning at all times. I was hesitant to share my slice of heaven with my friends, mostly because of all I had done to make it mine.
Who am I to keep this window from them? I thought. So I began to allow them time to stare and daydream to their hearts' desire!- for one quarter every minute. This I did feel bad about, but candles are not cheap! Sadly, things don't last forever. One day I went to my beloved double wide bathroom stall with a window to find it was locked. What! Nobody uses this without my permission! I waited and waited, for like fifteen seconds, and then I knocked. I heard a flush and out wheeled a handicapped kid. He had a smirk on his face!
"What are you smiling about, rolly!" He wheezed and then just pointed. My stall had been changed back to how it was when I found it. Except one thing: the window was boarded up!
"No!" I screamed. The handicapped kid cackled and did donuts in his chair. My friends and evil teacher ran in and all started laughing at me and calling me names, so I quickly stuffed toilet paper in all the toilets, flooded them, and broke through the window! The fall was painful, but the sweetness of freedom was better! I made it away and lived in a tree fort! Eventually some of my friends joined me. Rumor was that rolly drowned that day. I didn't care. I was free to daydream all day long!
