Jackson Jones
The Tale of a Boy, a Troll,
and a Rather Large Chicken
written by
Jenn Kelly
illustrated by
Ariane Elsammak
To God, Danny, and Jackson.
My life, my love, and my heart.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
1. Which Is Extremely Stinky
2. Which Is an Absolute Tragedy (Prepare Your Handkerchiefs!)
3. In Which There Are Dragons. Sort of.
4. In Which You Think This Is The Wizard of Oz, but It Isn’t
5. In Which We Find Out Where Jackson Is Going
6. In Which We Have No Idea Where Jackson Is
7. In Which There Is a Lot of Thwacking
8. In Which Jackson Sees Something Most Unexpected
9. In Which Stimple Does a Monkey Impression
10. In Which Jackson Meets an Old Friend
11. Which Begins Awkwardly, but Gets Better after That
12. In Which Jackson Is Well-Prepared
13. In Which Jackson Doesn’t Get His Nap
14. In Which Jackson Finds Himself in a Pickle
15. A Very Proper Introduction
16. There Are Absolutely No Eels, Kangaroos, or Rhinoceroses in This Chapter
17. In Which It Is Detrimental to Have Food in Your Pockets (Detrimental Means Yes, You Just Might Die)
18. In Which Jackson Is Discussed
19. In Which Jackson Is Improved
20. In Which Jackson Is Absolutely, Positively Perfect
21. Which Is Full of Glee and Happiness
22. A Very Strategic Chapter
23. In Which Stimple Is Most Unhelpful
24. In Which Jackson Is on His Own
25. In Which You Might Experience a Bit of Déjà Vu (Which Means You’ve Totally Been Here Before)
26. Which, We Must Admit, Is Not Very Exciting at First
27. In Which We Hope that Jackson Is a Good Runner
28. Which Is Not Particularly Long
29. In Which We Learn a Lesson about Unpredictability
30. In Which Jackson Has a Very Good Idea Indeed
31. Which Is Simply Full of Tears and Boogers
32. In Which Burt Shrieks a Lot. You’d Better Cover Your Ears.
33. In Which It’s Time to Move Along
34. A Chapter of Grouchy Proportions
35. Yet Another Chapter
36. Which Ends on a Cliffhanger
37. In Which Jackson’s Eyes Just about Bug Out of His Head
38. In Which Stimple Comes to Jackson’s Rescue (with Disastrous Results)
39. In Which Jackson Misbehaves
40. In Which an Argument Begins
41. In Which Jackson Gets Egg on His Face
42. In Which There Are Tigers. Well, Just One Tiger.
43. In Which Things Do Not Work Out as Planned
44. In Which Jackson’s Day Just Gets Worse
45. In Which Miss Flaversham Laments the Lack of Good Servants These Days
46. In Which Jackson Must Make a Decision
47. Which Is Full of Possibility, but Ends on a Tragic Note
48. Which Contains a Mystery
49. In Which Jackson Learns the Importance of Conservation
50. In Which Stimple Is Extremely Grouchy
51. Which Is the Fifty-First Chapter
52. In Which Jackson Learns about His Roots
53. In Which We Get to the Bottom of It All
54. In Which Jackson Hears an Ominous Sound (Ominous Means You’d Better Watch Out!)
55. Which Is Not Particularly Long
56. In Which Jackson Knows a Thing or Two about Knots
57. Which Involves Neither a ‘66 Charger Nor a 371xp Husqvarna Chainsaw
58. In Which Our Hero May Be Headed for Disaster
59. In Which Jackson Makes a Very Silly Decision
60. This Is Not Actually Chapter 60! It Is Just Pretending!
60. The Real Chapter 60
61. In Which Alfonso Is Not a Team Player
62. In Which Jackson Is on His Own (Except for the Squirrels)
63. In Which Necessity Is the Mother of Invention
64. In Which the Squirrels Learn to Count to One Hundred
65. In Which We Witness a Joyful Reunion
66. Which Is Only Six Sentences Long
67. Which Is a Little Bit Longer than the Last Chapter
68. In Which Alfonso Finds a New Line of Work
69. In Which There Is No Room in the Elevator
70. In Which Jackson Gets Sick of Waiting
71. In Which, It Must Be Admitted, Jackson Cries
72. In Which Water Behaves Very Oddly (Part I)
73. In Which Jackson Looks Down
74. In Which Nothing Bad Happens
75. In Which Something Awful Is Lurking
76. Which Is Too Terrifying to Even Have a Title
77. Which Has the Distinct Smell of Stimple
78. In Which Our Hero Takes a Deep Breath
79. In Which Our Hero Does Not Vomit. Not Quite.
80. In Which Water Behaves Very Oddly (Part II)
81. In Which Jackson Is Understandably Annoyed
82. In Which Jackson Experiences the Effects of Hot Chocolate with Whipped Cream and Sprinkles
83. At the Very Tip-Top
84. In Which Our Hero Encounters a Most Unusual Tree
85. In Which Stimple Makes a Monkey of Himself
86. In Which Stimple Is Not Actually All that Scary
87. Which Explains a Great Deal
88. In Which Jackson Would Benefit from an Oven Mitt
89. In Which the Road Leads Home
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Books by Jenn Kelly:
Copyright
About the Publisher
Share Your Thoughts
chapter 1
Which Is Extremely Stinky
Another bag of garbage.
Rotting, smelly, festering garbage. With holes in the bag. So it would leak.
And here he was, without a wheelbarrow. Or a donkey. Or a super cool, industrial four-wheeler.
So Stimple sighed again, hefted the rotting, smelly, festering garbage bag onto his back with a squashy splat, and began to pick his nose.
chapter 2
Which Is an Absolute Tragedy (Prepare Your Handkerchiefs!)
Jackson was furious.
It was not fair.
It was not his fault.
He seethed as he stomped outside, pounding his feet as hard as he could against the kitchen floor, then slammed the door shut.
He growled as he walked over to the pool and picked up the net.
“Not my fault … Why am I the one getting in trouble?” he muttered.
Jackson fumed as he remembered what had happened. He had run up the stairs to his room to grab his notebook because he had a great idea for a story. He opened his bedroom door and there was his little brother, giggling, sitting on the floor and clutching a magic marker. And Jackson’s heart fell into his stomach.
His brother had doodled all over his notebook.
Jackson snatched the book from his hands, ignoring his brother’s wails. “What are you doing?” he yelled.
Jackson opened the notebook.
Every single page was ruined.
Doodles and scribblings on every page. Cross-outs and thick lines, scratching out what Jackson had written.
His stories were ruined.
“You. are. such. a. BRAT!” Jackson screamed.
His little brother’s bottom lip stuck out and his eyes filled with tears. His mouth opened wide as he inhaled
loudly.
“Stop …” Jackson began. But he was interrupted by the siren that came rushing out of his little brother’s mouth. He turned and ran crying down the hallway to his mother’s room. Jackson followed angrily, his ruined notebook in hand.
“He’s only five. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, Jackson,” his mom said gently, holding his little brother on her lap.
“He ruined my stories!” Jackson spluttered.
“I know he did, and I’m very sorry for that. But you should have put your notebook away, where he couldn’t find it. You need to keep things out of sight. You know how curious he is,” his mother said.
Jackson turned and whipped his notebook across the room. It hit the wall with a THWACK and then slid to the floor. Jackson felt better. For a moment.
“I think you need to cool off before we finish talking,” said Mrs. Jones. “You can cool off cleaning out the pool.”
chapter 3
In Which There Are Dragons. Sort of.
Jackson was in an extremely rotten mood. Such a rotten mood, in fact, that he didn’t notice the way the sun glimmered off the water in the pool, the way the wind whistled through his hair, the songs the birds were singing … No, wait. The birds weren’t singing. That was odd.
But Jackson was in such a rotten mood that he didn’t even notice that the birds were silent. He picked up the pool net, brandishing it like a shining sword that would slice right into a dragon’s chest.
“Aha! Take that!” Jackson swung his mighty sword and slashed the dragon, splashing himself with pool water in the process.
He looked down at his grubby shorts and T-shirt, scowling. Then he laughed. Then scowled again. He was supposed to be in a rotten mood, after all. Jackson swirled the pool net in the water to remove fallen bits of twigs and leaves. A big black bug clung to the net. “Get off!” Jackson shook it.
And then he shivered, because all of a sudden the sun had disappeared behind a very big, very gray cloud. Better move faster. His ten-and-a-half-year-old arms pumped while he shoveled out more debris. (Debris is a fancy name for garbage.)
Ouch!
Jackson looked down at his arm. Something had stung him, but he didn’t see anything.
Ouch! Jackson felt his head. Nothing there. But that hurt! Jackson backed up, looking around for wasps. No, there didn’t seem to be any. But … ouch! Jackson looked up to the sky and was hit right in the nose.
Hail!
Little round-ish balls of ice, some of them the size of marbles, zoomed down from the sky, smashing into the backyard and splashing into the pool. Jackson chucked the net, covered his head with his arms, and ran toward the shed. He peeked out the window and watched the hail fall.
What a strange day.
Jackson pressed his nose harder to the window, squeezed his eyes tight, and wondered if there was something different in the air.
But all he could smell was the dank smell of soil hanging in the air. (Dank means moist and wet. Not wet like your dog’s nose, but like a gardening shed full of new soil.)
Hail was really coming down now. Loud thunks hit the roof and large plops splashed into the pool. Little white balls covered every surface. And then Jackson’s eyes caught something that was most certainly not hail.
The patio umbrella was still set up beside the pool! The hail smashed against the purple-and-green-striped umbrella, threatening to tear the fabric. Jackson threw his weight against the door, struggling against the howling wind that pushed back against it. Finally, — finally—it creaked open and Jackson slipped out. He threw his hands over his face, trying to see through the falling miniature cannonballs.
No, they were like little blasts of fireballs. Mini fireballs blasting out of the dragon’s mouth. He would have to fight through them! He had to save the village from this iniquitous beast! (Iniquitous means super-duper nasty.) Jackson recovered his pool net and sliced it through the air and let out an impressive battle cry.
“Aaaaaaah—OUCH!” A fireball hit him in the back. He ducked and dodged, narrowly avoiding the blazes of hot fire that would burn right through his armor. The wind pushed itself against him and his legs strained with the weight. But just as he grabbed the umbrella pole and reached up inside for the latch, a sharp burn pierced his leg. He was hit! But he had to go on. He had to continue — even if he died! He dropped his pool-net sword and fumbled with the latch. Bruises were popping up between his goose bumps. The wind pushed the umbrella up, threatening to pull it out of his hands. He gripped harder and clenched his teeth.
“You can do this!” he whispered fiercely to himself. “For honor! For glory! For the kingdom!” He forced his hand up and grasped the latch, giving it a yank.
It was stuck!
The wind snapped at Jackson’s legs, trying to knock him over. His numb fingers squeezed the button and, at that very moment, a gust of wind blew so hard up into the umbrella that Jackson was lifted off the ground.
Jackson gripped the pole even tighter, and a strong north wind blew Jackson and the umbrella over onto the ground. He landed hard on his shoulder.
And just at that moment, just as Jackson sat back up, the wind picked up, filling the umbrella with air. Jackson’s feet dragged along the ground, and then he was airborne.
He held tight, praying his weight would keep him from flying away.
But it didn’t — Jackson was still scrawny—and he flew up into the sky.
chapter 4
In Which You Think This Is The Wizard of Oz, but It Isn’t
Jackson’s eyes were getting dizzy from all the purple and green stripes spinning in front of him. The umbrella swished and popped as the wind pushed them along, faster and faster. Jackson swallowed and told himself not to look down.
He looked down.
He had to be at least thirty feet in the air! Should he let go? Jackson flew over the large, thorny rose-bush garden in the community park.
Uh, maybe not.
The wind blew and blew, while Jackson’s legs dangled helplessly in the air. If you were to stand back and look, you would see a large patio umbrella with crazy purple-and-lime-green stripes. And then you’d see a pair of little legs with sandals dangling in the wind. Up and down, up and down, the umbrella and Jackson flew. Jackson’s arms began to ache. It was like climbing the ropes in gym class but not as embarrassing.
They were fifty feet up.
Where on earth were they going to land?
Jackson just held on. What else could he do?
chapter 5
In Which We Find Out Where Jackson Is Going
Jackson’s throat was raw from yelling for help. But it was no use. No one was outside and even if they were, the hail smashing to the ground and the blowing winds were making too much noise for him to be heard. His fingers ached and his arms felt like they were about to fall off. Jackson shut his eyes tightly as he blew higher and higher into the sky.
And then, entirely without warning, he crashed.
chapter 6
In Which We Have No Idea Where Jackson Is
Jackson was thrust sharply upwards and he hit his head on one of the umbrella spokes. Ow! But at least he had stopped. Actually, he seemed to be stuck.
Jackson looked down. Just below his dangling feet was a tree branch. It was quite large—about fifteen feet across. Jackson slowly let go of the umbrella and dropped down onto the branch. He rubbed his sore arms, taking in his surroundings.
He was in a tree. A very large tree. Possibly the largest tree in the world. Hard to tell. Until you’ve seen every tree in the world, you really can’t make outlandish claims like that. Limbs branched off in all directions, their green leaves casting a soothing glow. Jackson walked toward the end of the branch and almost fell over.
The forest went on for miles and miles. He was so far up that all he could see were the tops of the trees. Had he really been blown that far? He shook his head. Where was he?
Jackson turned and walked back along the branch. The striped umbrella was
still stuck up in the tree. He sighed. And scratched his head. And then scratched his … ahem … behind. (It was itchy!) And then …
THWACK!
chapter 7
In Which There Is a Lot of Thwacking
THWACK!
“Ouch!” Jackson yelled, his eyes tearing and his forehead stinging from the pain.
“Oi! Oi! Gerr-off my tree!”
THWACK!
“Stop it! That hurts!” Jackson covered his head. “Oh ho! Talk back, will ya? Take that!”
THWACK!
Jackson backed up, peeking between his arms.
A large, hairy creature gripped a monstrous fly swatter in his big, meaty fists. His furry face was purple with rage.
“Get outta my tree! Go find yer own!” he yelled, raising the monstrous fly swatter up in the air.
“Ack! Stop it! Let me explain!” Jackson backed up even farther, checking behind himself to make sure that he wasn’t running out of branch.
“Humph! ‘Splain nothing! I don’t like no weirdo creatures in my tree! So get yer silly parasol and get outta my tree before I thwack ya again!” The purple-faced creature roared. (A parasol is like an umbrella, only prettier!)
“I’m no weird creature! You’re the weird one, going around smacking people for no good reason!” Jackson’s grayish-bluish-greenish-brownish eyes were still tearing up. He wiped them with the back of his hands so he could see better.
“No good reason? Ya whippersnapper! You’re the one in my tree! Trespassing!” The creature gripped the fly swatter tighter and started toward Jackson.
“I’m not a whippersnapper! I’ve never snapped a whip in my life!” Jackson yelled, standing tall and trying to look tough. But since he still hadn’t hit his growth spurt (that wouldn’t happen for another two years), he wasn’t doing a very good job.
Silence.
The creature’s furry face turned blue. Jackson raised his fists. Just in case. And then he heard a very strange noise indeed. Jackson looked up and realized that the creature was laughing.
Jackson Jones, Book 2 Page 1