Per the request of @ellowrites, I offer here my first public viewing of any of my works. I write this under the pen name R. P. Goodfellow. The following excerpt is from my first novel, STOMP! (Copyright 2015). The scene takes place at Lake Lummi just outside of the lumber town of Three Falls, Washington in late fall, 1957. Robbie Erland (12) and his friend Sally (12) have camped out at the shores of the lake with Sally inside the tent and Robbie sleeping under the stars and Aurora Borealis. Overnight, he left on his realistic Sasquatch feet, which he purchased from the R. P. GOODFELLOW'S MAIL-ORDER MERCANTILE AND BAZAAR CATALOGUE.
I remember waking part-way through the night when I had heard something rip, I thought, but couldn't see anything that could rip. The sleeping bag felt a little smaller than I remembered. I even stuck my right leg out of the bag to make sure I felt a little less confined. I went back to sleep. The unseasonably warm and dry air didn't seem to faze me, indeed, it felt comfortable.
I awoke in the morning when I rolled over and bumped my head on a tree root. I came awake a little more. The sun had risen and I now lay in the early morning shade of a big cedar. But, I didn't put my head that close to the roots of any tree, not that I remembered. I threw off the sleeping bag. Knowing that I would be in trouble when I got home for not reporting in or, for that matter, returning home, due to my grounding. I would have to pay the piper. So would Sally. I hoped we could figure out some way of avoiding that, but after her finding my Sasquatch feet, we hadn't spoken for the rest of the night. Now, though, I needed to go find me a spot behind a bush or tree somewhere.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes and yawned.
I heard a gasp from inside the tent. "Who's that?" said Sally's startled voice. "Robbie is that you? You know I'm still mad at you about the whole Sasquatch thing, so you'd better knock it off."
"OK," I said, and yawned again. I stretched and stood up, smacking my dry mouth to moisten it a little. I really needed to get a moment alone in nature's bathroom.
"I'm serious, Robbie! Knock off that grunting and growling," she said.
"I'm not grunting and growling," I said back, "I'm just getting up to go behind a tree for a bit." I said, trying to stop the fight before we got started again.
Then, as I turned around to head for the undergrowth, I heard the tent door zip open and, in my peripheral vision I saw her stick her head around the side of the tent. She saw me and froze. "You're real?" she sputtered.
"I'm as real as I was yesterday," I said, looking back at her. But, she seemed shorter than me. Decidedly shorter. Come to think of it, the tent seemed shorter too. But, bladder drove all my thoughts of her statement and height from my mind.
"Hold on a second," I said, holding up my right index finger. I really had to go now.
I left her there, stunned and went back in to the woods for a morning moment.
Relieved I came back to see her holding shreds of cloth in her hands that looked like my shirt that I had worn yesterday. "Where'd you get that?" I asked, pretty sure I hadn't brought any fabric along like that. But the backpacks had sat in Mom's sewing room for a while down in Palmdale...
"What did you do to Robbie, you monster?" she said, growing cold and glaring at me as she threw some of the shreds of fabric to the ground.
"Monster?" I asked. "Oh, the stomping at your house two nights ago. I'm sorry, Sally."
"I don't understand a thing you're saying, you beast. But if you don't want to find yourself dead within the next hour, I suggest you tell me what happened to the boy who was wearing this shirt!" She waved the fabric at me. "What did you do to him. How bad did you hurt him. If you did hurt him or kill him, so help me, I will get all the men with guns here in the area and hunt you down!"
If the anger she had been showing me last night over getting her hurt had been something to behold. This new fury was terrifying. I felt completely confused. "Sally, it's me, Robbie!" I said, pointing at my chest, reaching for my shirt to show her. But, all I found was hair. Now that I was more fully awake, I suddenly realized that I hadn't needed to use my fly when I relieved myself just now. My hands and body, now that I thought to look down and see it, were completely covered in three inches of hair. And worse, I was standing here naked in front of my best friend. I ran back into the bushes as fast as I could go. I didn't want her to see me without clothes on!
"That's right! You foul beast! You run! I'm going to that house over there and I'm going to get a man with a gun and come back here and make sure he kills you for hurting my friend. Where's his blood? There should be blood for this much clothing destroyed like this! Did you drink it?"
Then I heard her running away. I called out, "Wait! I'm Robbie," from where I hid behind the tree. I finally listened to myself say, what I thought was English. It wasn't. It came out sounding like a series of malformed grunts and roars. My mouth did feel different. And I noticed that I could still hear her as she ran away. And more, I could smell her, I could smell all of our gear. I could smell the detergent used to wash her clothes. I could smell her soap. I could smell her anger; I didn't know emotions had a scent, but I, somehow knew that this was anger. And by the scent's receding nature, I could tell that she was closer now to the old Indian's house than our little camp.
What was I to do? If the old Indian believed her, then I might get shot. But, only if I stayed here. I could run. Figure out a way to go home. Maybe Dad could make it all better...
#storyexcerpt, #writing, #MGChildren, #novel, @ellowrites