Okay, I give up. It's getting harder and harder to get words out of you people! Where did you all go?
So, desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess. Last year, early in the life of this blog, we all collaborated on a continuous story. Folks around here have been asking for another one.
If you helped out with that story, you might remember that we ended up extending our deadline by four days, and by the time it was over we had 75 entries and a pretty crazy-fun story!
We did have some rules, and I think they worked out well, so I am going to use the same ones again. Here they are, with new dates:
1. I get to start it.
2. Try to keep it unified. Let's keep characters to a few, and events well coordinated (in other words, try to keep the story following some logical sequence). Having said that, you can still surprise us, it can take twists and turns, and it can definitely be funny!
3. Unique handicap: (This is a rule.) You can only add one sentence at a time (but you can add a short exclamation such as Oh! along with your sentence), and your sentence must start with the letter the last person's sentence ended with.
4. You can post as many times as you want, but you cannot post just after your last addition. You have to let there be 2 sentences in between each of your turns.
5. I guess it needs an end, so we'll set this deadline to end the story: Thursday, April 24th. If you really, really want to have the final word, you may have to stay up late, because on the 25th the party's over.
(Hope you read these carefully, because if you don't follow the rules, I have to (oh no!) DELETE your comment. Sorry....)
And by the way, if you want to go back and read our masterpiece from last year, go to the April 19, 2007, post, titled Hope You Don't Mind, Snoopy) .. or click here.
Ready for your opening sentence? (Do I hear a drum roll?)
Once again, we will borrow our opening line (loosely) from one of the masters:
When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem broke his arm.
When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem broke his arm.
ReplyDeleteMany have questioned the cause of his injury, but rarely has the whole astonishing story been told...
ReplyDeleteDuring the TIME OF THE FLIES was when the whole episode took place.
ReplyDeleteEveryone was outdoors on that beautiful but fateful day, working in the gardens, sitting on the porches, or visiting with friends.
ReplyDeleteSophie, our sister, who had been reading Shakespeare out in the empty pasture all morning, suddenly came running up the hill to announce that she wanted Jem and I to help her act out Hamlet.
ReplyDeleteThere we all were, at Sophie's insistence, in our peaceful little town, trading a carefree childhood afternoon for the lives of princes and all that was rotten in the state of Denmark.
ReplyDeleteKatie, who was one of Sophie's friends, happened along the road just then, and she was immediately invited to join the game.
ReplyDelete-Catherine W-
Even though the front porch was perfectly suited for the task, Sophie demanded a larger space and dragged us all to the barn.
ReplyDeleteNearing the run-down building, all of us at once caught sight of the old tire swing, and Shakespeare was forgotten for the next few hours.
ReplyDeleteSadly, we didn't realize that the rope had had a lot of heavy children on it and was sagging.
ReplyDelete"Gee", said Jem, "looks like that old swing could use some ingenious reinforcement."
ReplyDeleteThat innocent statement prompted us all to start rummaging through the junkpile just outside the barn.
ReplyDeleteNothing they found seemed to work to reinforce the swing until they found some springs from an old trampoline.
ReplyDeleteJosh s.
Everyone became very excited as they began to imagine all sorts of ways they could attach the springs to the swing.
ReplyDeleteCathy S
Grasping the swing, each of the kids then grabbed a spring and began attaching them to the bottom of the tire.
ReplyDeleteEveryone attached the springs until the tire was covered completely, and then they all climbed in and started to swing back and forth.
ReplyDeleteHigher, Higher, HIGHER, bare feet touching the rusty springs, hands on top of other hands on top of the frayed rope, back and forth and back, until...
ReplyDeleteLaughing happily the kids pumped the swing faster and faster and before they knew it, Jem toppled off with a scream!
ReplyDelete"Mercy! I think i'm dead," he said, as he landed on top of an innocent flock of sheep.
ReplyDeletePromptly, the rest of us slowed down the swing and scrambled down (stopping to help Sophie, whose foot got caught on the way down), then ran to see just how dead poor Jem might be.
ReplyDeleteEver so dead Jem was, we all decided, and we all began to mourn, and at Scout's suggestion we ate one of the fatted sheep for consolation.
ReplyDeleteNibbling on a leg of lamb, Scout got a shock as Jem rose from the sea of white wool and shouted, "No! You're eating my pet sheep, Billy!"
ReplyDelete"Yikes!" exclaimed Sophie, "How can we ever make it up to you, Jem?"
ReplyDeleteMoving his aching limbs slowly up from the herd of agitated sheep, he thought for a moment, and said, "I know, you can help me out this afternoon."
ReplyDelete"Needles always get lost in haystacks...well, I'm afraid I've lost my prize-winning piece of hay in my dad's prize-winning 20-foot tall needlestack, so all I need for you guys to do is get it out for me, and then tie that in somehow to the rest of our developing story, because we can't just forget about rule number two," Jem replied, always the cunning one, and perhaps (as Scout wondered) having planned the whole "accident" all along simply to enlist his friends to do his dirty work.
ReplyDelete!
ReplyDeleteKeeping the joke alive, Jem continued, "Armed with some good gloves, it shouldn't take you all that long!"
ReplyDelete"Golly!! Are you sure there is nothing else we can do?" asked Katie.
ReplyDelete"Even though that sounded pretty crazy, I was actually quite serious about losing my piece of hay in the needlestack," Jem confessed.
ReplyDeleteDen, as they all walked toward the massive shed where the needlestack was kept, each child's thoughts raced excitedly: Scout had last seen it when she was four, when her father had just begun his hobby and it had only been 10 needles, and even then it had left an indelible impression on her young mind.
ReplyDeleteDetermined to find it they started to seach.
ReplyDelete-Charity
Happily we started at first, but the the excitement soon began to fade as minutes passed and none of our sore, needle-poked fingers found anything.
ReplyDelete"Good grief!" Katie finally exclaimed to Jem (who sat watching us, rubbing his arm), "how can a piece of hay be so special?"
ReplyDelete"Lets just say it's no ordinary piece of hay..." Jem replied importantly, "Actually, it's not even a piece of hay. It's a piece of straw."
ReplyDelete"Well, you should have told us earlier...cause I saw a piece of straw an hour ago!" exclaimed Sophie.
ReplyDeleteEveryone had decided that Sophie should do the rest of the searching, but then suddenly they all remembered how the Narnian mice had gnawed off Aslan's ropes.
ReplyDeleteStill wondering how they could remember this fact, since they were pretty sure the books had not been written yet while all this was taking place, all the kids, except Jem, of course, quickly got back to work.
ReplyDeleteKeeping in mind the mental image of the Narnian mice, Sophie began seeking even more frantically for the piece of straw, as though the rope-gnawing teeth of the heroic critters were even now freeing her from any inability to find the small agricultural byproduct.
ReplyDeleteTotally impressed with the vivid imagery of her own young mind (obviously developed through her precocious free-time reading of Shakespeare and that, uh, new fellow Lewis),
ReplyDeleteSophie felt her blurry eyes refocusing...for surely the prize was near!
"Rah, Rah!" they all cried in unison, getting louder and louder, for this was how they kept each other going.
ReplyDeleteGetting down on her hands and knees, Sophie spied what at first seemed to be the missing piece of straw; but after examining it more closely, she found that it was something even more precious...
ReplyDeleteShe shouted out with cries of joy, as she realized that she had found the long lost golden thread that was the crowning touch to the prize-winning needlestack.
ReplyDeleteKaty Thrombocytosis, the famous stack judge, suddenly showed up at the scene, to the oohs and aahs of the children, who knew that here was the one who had judged stacks of anything you could think of, from bowling balls to babies, in any country you could name.
ReplyDeleteEveryone held their breath expectantly.
ReplyDeleteYears had passed since Mrs. Thrombocytosis had deemed our magnificent needlestack as the world's best, even amongst sharp competition.
ReplyDeleteNow she waddled quickly into the barn, obviously tipped off by someone, and stopped short, her mouth agape, as her eyes took in the once-lauded monument, now
ReplyDeletescattered in the midst of four apparently destructive children.
"Never in all my 98 years have I seen such a . . . ", Mrs. Thrombocytosis began, before her eye caught a glimpse of the most beautiful golden thread she had ever laid eyes on.
ReplyDelete"Now children, despite the fact that this prize-winning needlestack is currently in shambles, this fine, rare needle- stack thread you uncovered could bring you thousands of dollars!" she said.
ReplyDelete"Dear me!" exclamied Jem, "Not only will we get thousands of dollars from this rare, golden thread, I just remembered that I had once tied my prize-winning piece of hay onto the end of the thread for safe keeping!!"
ReplyDeleteGoodness knows we tried hard to pull the thread out of the needlestack, but it was no use - the thread was hopelessly caught up in the tangle of needles, and we couldn't tell where the other end was.
ReplyDeleteSuddenly Jem had a brilliant idea, and took off running to get his father's industrial strength high-powered magnet!
ReplyDeleteTieing the magnet onto himself with duct tape, so that he would not risk the chance of dropping it on his toes, he headed back towards the shed.
ReplyDeleteDreaming of the all the ways he could spend the money once the golden thread was freed,(and leaving his common sense in the wind), Jem walked triumphantly into the shed with his head up in the air.
ReplyDeleteReady to assist him in this feat, the other children (and even Mrs. Thrombocytosis) watched him excitedly as suddenly Jem flew up to the top of the 30ft shed stuck like glue to the modern metal cross-beam.
ReplyDelete"Merciful heavens!" cried Mrs. Thrombocytosis in agitation.
ReplyDeleteNearly dying of fright, Jem began yelling and screaming quite loudly...
ReplyDelete"Yikes!" Jem hollered as he heard an unsettling ripping sound, "It just occurred to me that I used masking tape instead of duct tape!"
ReplyDeleteEasily recognizing the desperate condition Jem was in, the children looked around for anything to cushion his fall . . . suddenly realizing the mat upon which they stood was the old trampoline top.
ReplyDeletePicking up the trampoline top together, they postioned it under Jem just as he broke loose from the tape!!!
ReplyDeleteEach holding as tightly as they possibly could to the big rubber top (except Mrs. Thrombocytosis, who though she tried her best to be helpful, her grip was not what it used to be), they readied themselves for Jem's impact.
ReplyDeleteThough they tried hard to tell where Jem would fall, he still landed with a loud thump nearly a foot away from the trampoline top.
ReplyDelete"Pain . . . I'm in pain", Jem said, as he landed on his right arm, which now hurt really bad (even though he landed on the disarrayed mass of needles).
ReplyDeleteSure he was nearly dead this time, he thanked his faithful friends for all they had done for him in this fateful day!
ReplyDeleteYes, it had been quite a day, especially for poor Jem, as the sun slowly set on the western ocean shores.
ReplyDeleteSo now, in honor of Jem, Mrs. Thrombocystosis with all her might, freed the golden thread, (which by the way, did still have his prize-winning piece of straw attached to its end)and presented it to him.
ReplyDeleteMay you live happily ever after, young man," Mrs. Thrombocystosis said, "and may you never break your arm again!"
ReplyDelete(High acclaim for the preceding story: Magnificent in its entirety. Please do not ever speak at my funeral. No telling what tales would be told and no doubt told in only figments of your combined imaginings.)
ReplyDelete