An Unfortunate Beginning
The Novel Adventures of Nimrod Vale
By Natasha Brown
Illustrated by Larissa Clause
Text copyright 2013 by Natasha Brown
Illustrations by Larissa Clause, copyright 2013
Distributed by Smashwords
Editor Bev Katz Rosenbaum
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.
www.natashasbrown.com
DEDICATION
I would like to dedicate this book to every child with Attention Deficit Disorder. You are special and unique. Create your own world and become the hero.
My thanks go to my husband, family and friends, who are my biggest supporters. My gratitude goes to Bev Rosenbaum, my fabulous editor, and Larissa Clause, who brought the cover to life with her beautiful artwork.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 – An Unfortunate Beginning
Chapter 2 – A New World
Chapter 3 – Bad Dream
Chapter 4 – Art Imitates Life
Chapter 5 – The Escape
Chapter 6 – Nim’s Secret
Chapter 7 – Into Hiding
Chapter 8 – A New Friend
Chapter 9 – Pepper’s Discovery
Chapter 10– Guilt Trip
Chapter 11 – Back Again
Chapter 12 – Where’s Pepper
Chapter 13 – Into the Castle
Chapter 14 – The Plan
Chapter 15 – Last Hope
Chapter 16 – Slag’s Triumph
Chapter 17 – The Elder Tree
Chapter 18 – A Surprising Secret
Chapter 19 – A Hero’s Quest
Chapter 1 - An Unfortunate Beginning
I’ve decided I’m the unluckiest person in the world.
I stared at the clouds through the large paneled windows. People bustled by me dragging children and luggage behind them. Who would notice me – a pale twelve-year-old, all alone with a backpack slung over his shoulder?
I turned into the baggage claim area, and spotted the familiar, curly mop I was looking for. When Aunt Holly saw me, she smiled and waved. The air left my lungs and it felt like I’d been punched in the gut, or maybe my heart. Her smile was almost the same. Almost the same as Mom’s. My watery eyes flicked to the linoleum floor, I clenched my jaw tight, and walked on.
“Hey, Nim!” Thank goodness she used my nickname. At least I couldn’t be angry about that. “Oh my gosh, you’ve grown – don’t know where you got your genes from, but it wasn’t our side of the family. Say, I’m really sorry I didn’t come out for the service. I’m not good at funerals, or with flying. That’s why you always had to come visit me, right? But you already know that. So, how was your flight?”
Aunt Holly’s green eyes were puffy and red. She appeared tired and I guessed I wasn’t the only one running without sleep.
“Hey, Aunt Holly. It was fine.”
She wrapped her arms around my bulky shoulders in a tight embrace, and her head tucked under my chin, reminding me just how freakishly tall I am. I pulled away awkwardly and stuffed my hands in my pockets.
“How many bags do you have?”
“Crammed everything I could into two suitcases. Everything else is being auctioned off or donated. That’s what Mom’s lawyer said, anyway.”
My heartbeat echoed in my ears as we stood in silence waiting for the bags that held everything I owned. Finally, one by one, they emerged onto the luggage carousel. I leaned forward, grabbed hold of them and dragged them over to her, stumbling over my shoelaces.
Aunt Holly studied me as she asked, “Do you need any help?”
“Naw, thanks.” I adjusted my backpack and started forward with all of my things in tow. No one was going to separate me from the few things I had left, even if it was only underwear and jeans. The handle of my suitcase dug into my palm and its wheels clacked along the tiled floor.
Aunt Holly turned and caught up with me. “Well then, I’m parked just outside. Not too far, I lucked out, got a place right up front.”
Luck? Maybe some of Aunt Holly’s good fortune would rub off on me. Or maybe my bad luck would ruin hers.
We wandered outside and into the lot as she pointed at a beat up silver sedan. You would never know she’d inherited Grandpa’s fortune. It went to her because she’d stayed to take care of the family house. I had to give it to her, she hadn’t stuck around for the money, but because she loved the place.
Aunt Holly popped the trunk and we shoved my luggage inside. She held her hand out for my pack and I stated simply, “It can stay with me.” It took two attempts to latch the trunk, which involved me practically jumping on top of it. Soon we glided past the tollbooths, and turned onto the highway.
“It’s been a while since you were in Portland. The house hasn’t changed at all. You remember it?”
How could I forget? The time I spent there had provided my best memories. It was bittersweet going back without Mom.
“Sure, yeah. I remember it,” I said, picking at some loose threads on my jeans.
“It’s been forever since I’ve lived with anyone else. Grandma died so long ago and then when Grandpa… Anyway, it‘ll be nice having someone else there with me. There’s certainly enough space.”
I exhaled sharply and watched the wilderness flash by my window. I didn’t have any more words left in me, so I pulled my tablet out of my backpack and started to read.
“Oh, that’s fancy.”
I finished the page I was on and reluctantly answered, “Mom gave it to me for my eleventh birthday.” When I wasn’t writing one of my own stories, I was reading one of the many e-books stored in my massive library. I have the biggest library of anyone I know. Okay, I don’t really know many people, but it’s impressive. Seriously.
Aunt Holly hummed along with the radio and after a short time we exited the highway and wove our way through the evergreen lined streets. Just as the neighborhood began to look familiar, we pulled up a steep driveway to the large Victorian house.
After grabbing my bags, we went inside. Things hadn’t changed much. A collection of art and tapestries hung on the colorful walls and the old wood plank floors were covered with faded rugs. The smell of rain mixed with a stale musty odor jogged my memories. It was all kind of soothing – familiar.
“So, I thought you could pick any of the rooms upstairs. Mine’s down here—back down that hallway.” She pointed toward a shadowy corridor. “Do you want some help getting settled?”
I shook my head and let my brown, stick straight hair fall over my eyes. I just wanted to be alone.
Aunt Holly sighed and said in a whisper, “I’ll give you a minute to settle in. Shout if you need anything.”
With my bags in hand, I shuffled up to the second floor where doors lined the hallway. Aunt Holly had an art studio where she did her painting. Then there was Grandma and Grandpa’s room, although I had no intention of living in a place with my dead grandparents’ dusty things. As if I didn’t already have enough trouble getting to sleep. I already knew the room I wanted, anyway. I walked through the first door on my right and entered the room I’d slept in all the other times I stayed here. Difference was, this ti
me I wasn’t visiting.
The large, wallpapered room had an odd, slanted ceiling and an alcove with a desk and a window. I dropped my tablet onto the dark wood. This was the perfect place to write. Ever since the funeral, a story had been playing out in my mind. But that would have to wait. I wasn’t sure if I could form a proper sentence right now. After the long flight and this horrible week, I was tempted to climb into the closet in the corner of the room and hide. But Mom wouldn’t find me this time. Never again.
My cheek quivered. Propped up on the corner of the desk was a framed picture. I spotted my mom and Aunt Holly. They were young, probably teenagers. I wanted to tell her to run away to Spain to become a gypsy, like she always said she’d wanted to do.
My fists clenched as I forced my eyes to my grandparents, who smiled brightly beside her, and I couldn’t help but glare at my grandpa’s happy face. “Where are you now when I need you?” I said aloud. “You said you’d always be here for me.” I knew he was really dead and gone. I just liked pretending he was there sometimes. Grandpa was the one person who’d really understood me. He was different, like me. We both preferred getting wrapped up in a good story than anything else. Mom always let me do my thing, but I also knew she wanted me to make some friends and be ‘normal’.
Normal wasn’t in the cards. Grandpa got that about me. He was probably the best friend I’d ever had, but he’d been gone for over three years. Obviously, I was cursed. Everyone in my family either left or died. Aunt Holly would have to disown me; that way she’d have a decent chance of surviving.
I flipped the picture face down on the desk, wandered to the bed and sat down. The bumpy bedspread felt strange beneath me and I ran my fingers over the ridges in the fabric. Gray clouds were visible out the window and I focused on the rain tapping at the windowpanes. I missed my home. I missed Mom.
This really sucked.
At least I was in the one place I could be closest to her. If Mom was born and raised in this house, maybe if I tried hard enough I’d be able to hear the echo of her footsteps beneath my own. I gripped the banister on the way downstairs and tried to feel her with me. She’d touched everything in this house at one time.
I found Aunt Holly sipping a cup of tea in the kitchen. When she saw me, she hopped up and walked over to the electric kettle.
“Hey, Nim. Can I make you some coffee or tea?” She reached for a black mug from the cabinet.
“Uh, mom never let me drink coffee. She said it would stunt my growth.” I shrugged.
Aunt Holly made a show of taking in all five feet seven inches of me and snickered. “Well, I don’t think that’s an issue. Wanna try some? You’re living in the coffee and tea capitol of the country now.”
“Sure. I’ll give it a try. You got sugar?”
“Was Picasso a playboy?”
I stared at her with a blank expression.
She grinned and answered, “He was and yes, I’ve got sugar.”
“Um, okay.” Was this what it was going to be like from now on?
While Aunt Holly prepared the coffee in something that was almost medieval looking, she brought up a new subject. “So, Nim. I have you signed up at school. It’s Thursday, so I thought Monday would be a good day to start. That’ll give you a couple days to settle in here and relax. What do you think?”
Lower the boom. Things just kept getting better and better. “Uh, Mom homeschooled me last year. Worked out pretty well.”
I was too different to fit in. That’s why I didn’t even bother and that was why homeschooling was perfect for me. Sweet solitude.
“Aw, I know, Nim. I’m not sure how she did it – running a business from home, teaching you and trying to get her health on track. I know it was easier that way when she got sick, but I can’t. It‘ll be enough for me to just get used to taking care of someone else. I hope you understand.”
“Sure, fine. Whatever.”
I didn’t want to explain to her what a social outcast I’d become, that kids my age just didn’t get me. Why brag?
Being around Aunt Holly was bringing me down. It just made me resent her – hanging out in her kitchen when I should have been in my own house with my mom. I didn’t have anything left that meant anything to me, except, of course, my tablet.
I traced my fingers along the counter’s grout lines and said, “I’m going upstairs to unpack.”
I grabbed the coffee cup to keep my hands busy so I wouldn’t have to look at Aunt Holly.
“Of course. Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and Nim?”
I felt her eyes trace along my face again so I tilted my head down to hide behind my hair.
“I know I’m not your mom, and I have no intention of trying to replace her. I have no experience with all of this, but I do love you and I care. I guess that’s all. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, and I’m going to miss her too.”
Yeah, but Aunt Holly wasn’t used to seeing her day after day, like I was. Try living without the sun.
“Thanks, Aunt Holly.” I nodded and left the kitchen to slip upstairs, back into the safety of my new room. The dim light provided me just enough to see by, and I sat at the desk, setting my coffee beside me. It was almost October and the trees outside the window were just beginning to shift color. It was very different from Florida, but that was okay. The gloomy weather matched my mood perfectly.
Sitting alone in my room was something I was good at. I wrote short stories about heroic, handsome adventurers who saved the day. So, basically, people who were nothing like me. I was really good at starting stories, just not finishing them. Mom always said it was because of my ADD, that I was too smart and had too many ideas running through my mind to settle on anything for long, but that’s what mothers are supposed to say, right?
When I wasn’t escaping into my own fantasy lands, I lost myself in other writer’s worlds. It was definitely time to get lost. I’d had enough of my own life for one day (that was an understatement), so I pulled my tablet and keyboard from their bag and placed them flat on the mahogany wood. I ran my fingers over the smooth gray keys and pulled out the power cord. After connecting one end to the tablet, I dropped under the table and searched for an outlet. Spying one nearby, hidden behind a bookshelf, I reached for it and found I was short by a couple inches, so I flicked the cord around the side of the table and gave it another try.
Thump.
A hot stream of coffee poured onto my head and dribbled to the floor. The acidic aroma stung my nose as I pinched my eyes shut and cursed under my breath.
You know those moments when you wish you could reverse time? It happens on a daily basis with me (if not more).
As fast as I could, I backed out from beneath the desk and peered up. The dark liquid that spilled from the mug had settled around the tablet and keyboard, and created a swampy moat. With a groan, I put the mug right, hoping no permanent damage had been done. Coffee still funneled from the vents and onto the floor.
I rifled through one of my suitcases in search of my socks, and grabbed a few to soak up the liquid. After working for half an hour at drying it, I set my tablet on the floor, plugged it in, then pushed the power button.
Nothing. No lights, no noise. Nothing.
Could things get any worse?
Chapter 2 - A New World
There’s only so much television I can take before I get bored. I’ll often settle for a good movie instead of reading, but the cable companies really need to pay for some new stuff. I mean, how many times can you watch the same blockbuster before you start losing brain cells? I say twice a month, tops.
Friday was pure television torture, so on Saturday I begged and pleaded with Aunt Holly to take me to a computer repair shop. It didn’t take much to get her to drive me there. I guess that’s one of the perks of people feeling sorry for you – they give you what you want. Lucky me.
While we waited for the tech to take a look at the tablet, we walked next door to a used book store and coffee shop. When we stepped
inside, the smell of musty paper and coffee beans greeted us. It reminded me of Grandpa.
Aunt Holly bought us each a caramel latte, which tasted so good, I emptied half of mine before I even started looking around. I didn’t really want to get any books, even though she offered to buy one for me. It felt like if I did, I was admitting that my tablet was perma-broken and I’d never see my stories again.
After half an hour we went back to the repair shop. The guy placed the tablet on the counter and braced his hands on either side of it. He gave Aunt Holly a lazy smile and tucked his long hair behind his ear. “So, looks like you got it pretty good. Nearly fried the hard drive. Luckily, your data’s recoverable, but it‘ll take some work to bring it back to life.”
Aunt Holly adjusted her purse strap and looked at him, waiting for him to get to the bottom line. When he didn’t elaborate, she gave me a concerned look, then turned back to him and asked, “How much will it cost?”
“Oh, yeah – I’d estimate around three hundred.”
Aunt Holly coughed and said, “Dollars? That’s an awful lot. Isn’t that how much it would cost to get a new one?”
“Oh, no, not for this – it’s top of the line. Plus there’s all the applications and data.”
“Please, Aunt Holly. Mom gave it to me. I’ll do anything,” I said in a whisper. I didn’t know what I’d do if she said no.
She pinched her eyes shut and sighed. “Dishes. I hope you like doing dishes, Nim. How long will it take to fix?”
“Right-o.” The tech stared at his computer and his face glowed blue. “Looks like our turnaround time’s running three weeks out.”
“Three weeks?” I think I had a coronary on the spot.
“Or so.”
I used my tablet on a daily basis. Going that long without it was going to be hard. It had been a day and a half already, and I was starting to get the shakes. “Fine.”
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