Sad No More

by Derek James

  SAD NO MORE

  Derek James

  Copyright © 2018 by Derek James. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design and Artwork by Derek James

  ISBN: 9781543942354

  HOW TO READ THIS BOOK

  Well hello there, kids! This is your author speaking. Now listen, the key to this book is very, very, very simple. All you must do is … use your IMAGINATION!!! You see, every kid sees stuff differently inside their head when they read a book. So every place you visit, every voice you hear, and every character you see will be different to each and every one of you. If you notice, even the pictures require you to use your imagination. There are very few drawings and very little detail. I did that on purpose ‘cause I want you to imagine the stories as only you can. Plus I’m a really bad artist! In fact, Jacob (the main character) and all his friends look more like weird vegetables than actual stick figures. Again, your mission is to see them the way you want to see them. However, I will give you a little hint on who’s who in the drawings before we begin … nothing rhymes with Jacob’s color! Ok, I’ve said enough. I must go now. But don’t worry, I will be in contact with you throughout the stories in the form of magical parenthesis (testing 1,2,3). And sometimes, depending on who is telling the story, Jacob may even use them to express what he is thinking in his head. Oh, and one more thing … you may even learn a thing or two if you aren’t careful! Ok, I’m gonna shut up now. Buckle up and enjoy your journeys!!! (See you soon!)

  This book is dedicated to all my pint-sized students, past and present, to whom I have had the pleasure of sharing time and knowledge with. For every ounce of musical wisdom I have bestowed to them, they have bestowed to me two-fold, in the shape of innocence and creativity. For it is because of them, that I am, and always will be, a ten-year-old boy at heart.

  Table of Contents

  The Land of Ēveileb Ékàm

  Hot Cross Buns

  Bubbles & Breakers

  Pool Party!!!

  The Lunar Leprechauns

  The Land of Ēveileb Ékàm

  The Land of Ēveileb Ékàm

  “Are we there yet?! Are we there yet?!! Are we there yet?!!!”

  “I am not going to tell you again!” Jacob’s mom yelled to the backseat. “If you don’t stop, we are never going to the museum again!”

  Jacob could see the anger welling in her eyes and the steam coming out of her ears, as her face reflected in the rear view mirror, but paid her no mind, “I want to go home and play with Zuzu!” he rebutted (rebutted doesn’t mean you got a new butt, it means replied).

  “Zuzu is a puppy, he has plenty of energy. He will play with you tomorrow,” Mom said sternly.

  Jacob cried out with a deafening squeal, “But I want to go home NOOOOOOW!!! I want to play with ZUZU!!!!!!!!” Well, the old blue minivan came to a screeching halt! “That’s it! We are not going to the museum anymore!” she screamed. “And if I hear another peep out of you before we get home, you are not playing with Zuzu tomorrow either, do you hear me!?” (Ladies and Gentlemen, here come the tears!)

  Jacob tucked himself in the corner next to his little sister’s old teddy, Mr. Snuggles, and began to bawl away. Luckily Sis’ was at home with Dad, baking pretend cakes or something stupid. So, he sniffled and groaned, and whimpered and gasped, but nothing seemed to work. Usually his overacting and incessant (nonstop, but feel free to look up words you don’t know) antics got through to her. All he could do now was whimper under his breath and be sad. He whimpered quietly for he didn’t want to risk not being able to ever go back to the museum again, and worse, risk not being able to play with Zuzu! Jacob whimpered on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on …

  AND THEN IT HIT HIM! “I hate being sad!” he thought to himself. “What if I use my imagination to get away from my sadness? After all, I am a ten-year-old kid, and have an awesome imagination!!!” Jacob closed his eyes and thought of someplace, anyplace, he’d rather be. Any place but this stupid back seat. He clenched his fists and concentrated with all his might! He slowly opened his eyes aaaaaaaand!!! … he was still in the backseat. Determined to escape from his prison, he tried once again. He concentrated so hard he saw spots. He slowly opened his eyes aaaaaand!!! … nothing. He was still in the backseat. Jacob was ready to give up. He closed his eyes in frustration and sunk back into the cushy fabric within the confines of the old blue minivan. When he opened his eyes, he was startled by what he saw - a life-sized Mr. Snuggles!

  The giant teddy leaned over to him, and said, “Welcome, Jacob. Glad you could make it.”

  Mr. Snuggles was wearing white gloves and an apron (Don’t ask), “What brings you here?” the old raggedy bear asked.

  “Mom was being mean cause I kept on bugging her,” Jacob said with a hint of shame in his voice.

  “I know the feeling,” said the big brown bear. “I come here when Rory (Jacob’s younger sister) makes me go to her make-believe tea parties or leaves me in the back seat over night.”

  Jacob laughed and said with a smirk, “I hate those stupid tea parties too! … So now what do we do?!”

  The bear looked at Jacob with a puzzled grin, “We explore, that’s what! There are infinite (look it up, and don’t ask mom) things to do here. After all, we are in your imagination! Oh, and one more thing. Pleeeease don’t call me Mr. Snuggles. As much as I love your sister, I can’t say I’m fond of her name giving skills!”

  Jacob laughed, “I totally understand! I will call you … Brown Bear! How’s that!?”

  Mr. Snuggles (Oops! I mean Brown Bear) accepted with delight, “That’ll work!”

  So Jacob and the bear began to walk. Their feet made ripples on the golden ground as though they were walking on water. There was a lovely warm wind that embraced the beautiful blue butterflies that accompanied Jacob and the bear on their secret journey. The wind blew plumes of leaves from their branches: lavender, peach, and gold, the most beautiful colors the eyes could behold (Whoa! A rhyme!) Waterfalls fell from skies of blue, and rainbow-colored feathers danced in the wind. It almost never rained here, but when it did, the drops slowly fell upwards, settling into the plush silver linings of the lavender clouds that watched curiously from above.

  Suddenly, a deep, resonating (loud!) voice cried out from above their heads, “Hellowww, little child! Hellowwww, raggedy bear!”

  Jacob stepped back in awe, “Oh my goodness, Brown Bear, it’s a talking tree!” he exclaimed with excitement and a twinge of fear in his voice. The majestic old oak stood fifty feet tall, and as thick as a chimney. The curious old tree leaned forward to get a better glimpse of the two strange visitors, “Forgive me, I can’t see a thing without my reading glasses.” Suddenly the flustered old oak straightened its posture, sniffled, took a humongous breath, and sneezed an epic sneeze! An explosion of colorful leaves flew from its branches, “Pleeease forgive me,” the old oak grumbled. “I have been feeling a bit under the weather today.” Just then, one of the leaves appeared to maneuver its way back to its branch, as it zigged and zagged with great precision. You see … the leaf was not a leaf at all, but in fact, a beautiful neon-blue firefly that lit up the night sky like a lantern. (Oh yes, I forgot to mention, it is no longer daytime. You see, in one’s imagination, day becomes night, dusk becomes dawn, and hours - seconds, all in the blink of an eye, for in on
e’s imagination there are no boundaries.) Suddenly there were hundreds of neon-blue fireflies fluttering around the ol’ tree; it was indeed a beautiful sight.

  “Well, that was quite a sneeze, Mr. Tree,” Jacob said as he brushed the sap from his face.

  “Oh, that was nothing!” exclaimed the tree. “By the way, my name is Marty.”

  “My name is Jacob, and this is Brown Bear.”

  “Ho Ho Ho! I know Brown Bear! We are old friends! But it is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Sir Jacob. A little birdie told me that you have not been listening to your mother.”

  Jacob bowed his head in frustration and kicked the colorful leaves beneath his feet, “Yeah, she never lets me do anything!”

  The elderly tree looked down discernibly (you know what to do), “Do you see how tall I am, Jacob? And how thick my trunk is?”

  “Uhh, Yeah!? Why do you ask?”

  “I have been around a while, child. I have seen many things. And perhaps, even know a thing or two.”

  “Oh boy, here we go again,” Brown Bear said under his breath.

  “Now you sound like Mom,” Jacob said with a furrowed brow (means he was annoyed).

  “My child, I am well over a hundred years old, and have seen just about everything in this land. And by the way, in case you didn’t know, Jacob, the name of this imaginary land is Ēveileb Ékàm. This land is so magical that, why even the name itself is magical! (Hint, hint, wink, wink) Now, I may not look like the smartest tree in the forest, but I assure you, I am quite the worldly weed. And just as I have acquired much knowledge throughout my time here in Ēveileb Ékàm, so has your mother in the real world. She knows what is best for you, and tries to bestow her knowledge upon you, so that you may become as wise as she. She only wants what is best for you, Jacob.”

  “I guess,” Jacob replied reluctantly. Suddenly, the ground began to shake, and a strange sound, like hundreds of springs bouncing on the floor, echoed through the forest.

  “Hush Child! It is the Dream Weavers! Do not make a sound!”

  “What’s a Dream Weaver?” Jacob whispered with a lump in his throat.

  “Dream Weavers are giant pink spiders, also known as Night Crawlers, for they only come out at night. They may look cute and cuddly because they are pink, big, and bouncy, but their bite can inflict upon you “the sleep of the dead!””

  “Wa … Wa … What is the sleep of the dead?!” Jacob asked, shaking in his shoes.

  “He who is bitten by the Dream Weaver shall sleep for a hundred years. When he finally awakens, he will be an old man, and his life will have passed him by. Now run!!! The both of you!!! Run to the River of Fire, for they cannot cross it.”

  So Jacob and Brown Bear ran as fast as they could towards the River of Fire. As much as they tried, the Dream Weavers were just too fast, and the river was just too far away. Jacob and Brown Bear fell to their knees, put their hands over their heads, and braced themselves for the worst. The Dream Weavers were just about to pounce on them when …

  The strange pink spiders transformed into beautiful sparkles of light (really stars on Jacob’s bedroom ceiling), and a slimy snail by the name of Edgar Allen slid up Jacob’s cheek (really Zuzu waking him up with his tongue). What Jacob did not know, was that he fell asleep in the back of the minivan, and Mommy carried him into the house, tucked him in his bed, and kissed him goodnight.

  When Jacob awoke, he was so happy that the giant pink spiders that were about to pounce on him and inflict the “sleep of the dead”, were just pink glow-in-the-dark star stickers on his ceiling. He immediately jumped up, ran to the foot of his parent’s bed, and tugged on the covers, “I’m sorry for being bad today, Mom! I know you are old and wise, and have been on this Earth for almost a hundred years. I should have listened to you because you have been here a really, really, really, long time.”

  Jacob’s mom rubbed her weary eyes, let out a great yawn, and turned over, pulling the sheets over her head. And from underneath the covers emerged these words of wisdom from the matronly (motherly) Earth dwelling creature, “I’m only forty-one. Now turn out the light and get to bed!”

  Hot Cross Buns

  Hot Cross Buns

  As the morning sun poked its head through the curtains, I awoke to Edgar Allen sliming my face again (yep, you guessed it, Zuzu). “C’mon, Jacob!” Mom yelled upstairs. “Back to school today! (Yes children, all good things must come to an end, even spring break!) Time to wake up and have breakfast!” Well, I had every intention of getting up, and was just about to get out of bed when … I fell back asleep.

  Suddenly, there was this giant piece of bacon paddling a gondola in a giant bowl of cheerios, whilst slimy puffy-cheeked green tree frogs chirped and basked in the sun atop their whole-grain-oat life preservers. The weird part was that the sun was actually a giant poached egg (that is, if you think the other stuff isn’t weird). One of the slimy tree frogs jumped on my face, slithered down my cheek (once again, Zuzu), and woke me from my most bizarre dream. “Wakey wakey! Rise and shine!” Mom bugled up to our rooms. Well, at least it was nice to know my imagination was still working. And more importantly, my new secret weapon was in tact.

  I felt a new sense of freedom, and courage, for I knew I could conquer my sadness in a strange (let us call it “unique”) way. So I stumbled out of bed, tripped over Mr. Snuggles (not exactly sure how he got there!), brushed my teeth (secret: if you wanna make Mom happy, this is ALL you have to do), and sat down at the table (it’s a table, no explanation needed). “Ok kids, eat your breakfast before the bus comes,” Mom said as she slapped down two slabs of bacon, some cheerios, and a golden-yellow poached egg. I just had to laugh! As good as it all looked, I was a little too excited to finish, and snuck my last piece of bacon under the table for Zuzu. She accepted graciously. When I looked over at Rory, she was just about to rat me out to Mom, when I sloppily kissed my hand like an enamored (in love) schoolgirl. She immediately zipped her lip cause she didn’t want Mom or Dad to know about Bobby Doyle, the boy she secretly had a big sloppy crush on. It sure is good to have leverage (stuff that could get her in trouble) on your little sister.

  “OK kids, the bus is here! On your way now! Have a fun day! Love you!” Mom said as she hurried us along. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she wanted to get rid of us (nah, couldn’t be). She gave us both a peck on the cheek and waved goodbye as the ol’ yellow bus rolled away. Well, the bus ride went on without a hitch, and all was going well, that is, until it came time for recess.

  Some of the boys were playing kickball on the blacktop when Bobby Doyle and two of his friends (minions) tried to give me the Rudolph treatment. “No braniacs allowed!” Bobby shouted. “You can’t play!” (In any reindeer games.) I don’t know what Rory saw in this guy. Kinda looked like a constipated weasel, if you ask me. Anyway, I walked away to a litany (list) of insults, including but not limited to: Dweeb, Goober, Dork, Spaz, Einstein … (you get the picture), and sat my sorry butt down on the swing next to the giant steel spider, all by my lonesome. I swung as I high as I could, as my angry little feet propelled me over the towering trees (3 foot fence). I was feeling sad and hurt, and recalled my lesson from my last journey. But more importantly, I couldn’t wait to try out my newly found secret weapon!

  I started pumping my legs as hard as I could. As I swung above the trees (fence), I closed my eyes. The sunlight felt warm on my face and lit up the inside of my eyelids like a raging forest fire. I concentrated as hard as I could, and on the upswing, opened my eyes, aaaaaaand … nothing. I swung furiously and tried again, as the wind blew like a hurricane (not really, but let’s go with that) on my face, aaaaaaaand … nothing. I feared that this amazing discovery of mine may have just been a fluke (not the fish, a rare one-time occurrence). I refused to give up! I waited three more swings, blocked out everything except the sun and the wind, tightly closed my eyes, and counted to three (say it with me … ONE! … TWO!! … THREE!!!)

  When I opened my eyes, I screamed like a litt
le girl, and REALLY hoped nobody heard me. I was suddenly amongst the clouds, thousands of feet in the air, flying over my tiny little elementary school way down below. The wind blew like a hurricane (this time it’s true) on my face as I swooped in and out of the clouds like a voracious (really hungry) bird of prey. And from the sight of my watering eye, high in the deep blue sky, (here we go with the rhymes again) I spotted three creatures scurrying around on the blacktop, one of which looked familiarly like a constipated weasel.

  Just then, a giant hawk and a giant buzzard flew up beside me.

  “Why, hello there, Jacob. I am Hawkeye,” said the hawk, in a regal (kingly) voice.

  “And I’m Red,” said the buzzard, in a goofy voice (actually, sounded just like Goofy. Btw, what the heck was Goofy? A dog? A cow? A wolf? (Anyway, on with the story!)

  “How do you know my name?” I asked, curiously.

  “Let’s just say we fly over The Land of Ēveileb Ékàm quite a bit. Marty speaks very highly of you, Jacob. However, he is not very fond of us!” said Hawkeye. The two birds giggled with delight.

  “And why is that?”

  “Oh, you’ll see! You’ll see!!” said the goofy buzzard.

  “Looks like you have a particular target in your sights, young lad,” said the hawk.

  To which the goofy buzzard added (don’t forget … Goofy voice), “Ooh ooh ooh, I want to play too! Let’s play hot cross buns! Let’s play hot cross buns!!!”

  “What in the world is hot cross buns!?”

  “Oh, you’ll see! You’ll see!!” said you-know-who.

  So the three aviators aligned like a fleet of fighter jets and honed in on the target. Bobby was up at bat (or kick, or whatever you call it in kickball). He was just about to launch the little red ball across the field when, BLAPPP! A gooey white danish dropped from above and landed square on his head, and boy did it smell! That’s what happens when your diet consists of mainly rodents.