by T. L. Clarke
A Gabby Girls Adventure Novel
The SECRET
OF THE
SCARLET STONE
T.L. CLARKE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, 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.
Copyright © 2010 by T.L. Clarke
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
ISBN 978-0-9844993-0-4
I would like to dedicate this book to my best friend and husband, Robbie, who encouraged me every step of the way. I love you, Robbie!
The SECRET
OF THE
SCARLET STONE
CHAPTER ONE
Fiona the Beautiful
Grandma Celeste, a beautiful, slender woman with soft gray curls that cascaded down to her waist, leaned heavily on an ornate black cane as she slowly walked towards the door. She smiled wryly as she glanced down at the pillow made of crème velvet, trimmed in bright gold cording and embroidered with the word “DIVA,” that hung around the doorknob.
She chuckled then mumbled softly, “Just like the pillow says—that girl is every bit of the diva she proclaims to be,” before knocking on the bedroom door.
The sun shined brightly through the partially opened window, landing on the bed of a sleeping Gabrielle Martin. The clock ticked softly on the nightstand for a few merciful minutes then, as if on cue, the alarm chirped happily, “Wake up, sleepy head”—over and over like a syrupy, melodic song.
With her face partially hidden by a mass of thick, tussled, curly brown hair, Gabrielle moaned, her almond-shaped hazel eyes staring angrily over at the clock on the nightstand, “Oh, would you just shut up, stupid clock!”
A cat with silky black fur interrupted by a wild tuft of bright white hair on the top of its head looked up quickly and hissed at Gabrielle for jolting her out of a peaceful slumber. Uncurling itself delicately, all the while keeping a steady gaze on Gabrielle, the cat hissed again, this time a little louder.
Gabrielle’s pouty lips curled with displeasure. “Oh, be quiet, Fiona,” she grumbled then snuggled even deeper under the blanket.
Giving Gabrielle an absolutely evil stare, Fiona sauntered from her comfortable position at the foot of the bed, prancing deliberately up Gabrielle’s body until she reached her head, where she preceded to trample around in small circles, meowing quite loudly.
Gabrielle reached up from under the blanket and softly swatted Fiona. “Cut it out, Fiona. I hear the alarm just as well as you do and I’m not moving no matter how loud you meow, so scoot, okay?”
Fiona hissed at her angrily.
“I don’t care if you’re mad at me. Beat it! You’re not the boss of me,” Gabrielle grumbled from under the blanket.
Never to be undone, Fiona gave Gabrielle another loud meow then hopped off the bed and onto the window’s ledge.
Gabrielle reached over, slamming her palm against the raised mute button, which immediately shut the piercing alarm off. Her cappuccino-colored face crumpled with annoyance as she looked around the room.
“Argh! I just hate mornings and I hate this morning more than ever,” she mumbled aloud. Slamming her body against the bed, she roughly tucked the bright orange and red blanket snugly around her.
Grandma Celeste knocked on the bedroom door again.
Gabrielle huffed angrily then flipped onto her stomach, deliberately ignoring the soft knock.
“Gabi, are you up?” Grandma Celeste asked.
“No,” Gabrielle snapped.
Grandma Celeste turned the doorknob, pushing the bedroom door wide open. She entered the room, each step pronounced by the soft tapping of her cane hitting the floor. Her smooth face crinkled with exasperation as she stopped in the middle of the room and tapped her cane impatiently on the hardwood floor.
Gabrielle slapped her hands against her ears, trying in vain to block out the all-too-familiar tapping. For the life of her, she could not get used to the familiar yet sometimes very annoying sound of her grandma’s cane; besides, deep down she knew that her grandma used it more for ‘drama’ then for functionality. I mean, come on, Gabrielle thought. The woman is so fit that she could probably outrun a group of teenagers without breaking a sweat. I’ve seen her do it and it’s not a pretty sight.
“Gabi, I don’t have all morning to play around with you. It’s time to get up and start your day,” Grandma Celeste said sternly.
“Do I have to?” Gabrielle mumbled.
As if on cue, Fiona quickly hopped off the window’s ledge, sauntering over to Grandma Celeste, then proceeded to rub her body against the woman’s ankles.
Grandma Celeste looked down at her lovingly. “Good morning to you, too, Fiona the Beautiful.”
Fiona purred warmly.
“Yes, I know that you did your absolute best to wake up Gabi and for that I thank you kindly,” Grandma Celeste said to Fiona.
Seemingly satisfied, Fiona purred again then sauntered out of the bedroom.
“What a traitor you are, Fiona the Beautiful. Let’s just see who you go to the next time you want a snack—not me, my friend, not me,” Gabrielle grumbled.
Grandma Celeste walked toward the bed; with each step, a soft clicking sound could be heard as her cane hit the floor in a hypnotic, rhythmic beat. She sat down at the edge of the bed, softly rubbing the small outline of Gabrielle’s head, which was still buried under the folds of the blanket.
Grandma Celeste took a deep breath as she pulled the blanket from around Gabrielle’s head. “Yes, Gabi, you have to. Didn’t we talk about this last night?”
Gabrielle quickly flipped over onto her back, looking up at her defiantly. “Well, I’ve simply changed my mind, that’s all.”
Grandma Celeste shot her an annoyed glare. “Now, listen here, young lady. I make all the decisions in this house. Don’t you ever forget that.” She abruptly yanked the rest of the blanket from around Gabrielle’s body. “Now get ready.”
Remorsefully, Gabrielle looked up at her. “I’m sorry, Grandma. Please don’t be angry with me. I really don’t mean to be so difficult but—it’s just that I really don’t want to leave you.” She looked at her sadly. “I mean, who will take care of you while I’m away? We only have each other now.”
Grandma Celeste smiled sadly. “Gabi, I know it hasn’t been easy for you since your parents passed away,” she said. “And I also know that a lot of other things have changed for you lately, especially since you just turned thirteen.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Gabrielle expectantly. “Like maybe you are experiencing things that you don’t understand?”
Gabrielle looked at her uneasily.
“But if you ever need to talk to me about anything—I mean anything—you know that I’m always here to listen.”
“Um—everything’s okay, Grandma Celeste. It’s just—I miss Mommy and Daddy so much, especially Mommy,” Gabrielle mumbled.
Grandma Celeste touched Gabrielle’s hair, breathing out longingly as she looked into space. “I do, too, Gabi. I miss her more than you could ever know.”
“So, why are you making me leave you?” Gabrielle wailed.
<
br /> “Gabi, how many times do I have to tell you that your going away to Vineswell Academy is not some sort of punishment? You’re thirteen now; it’s just your time. We all have a time when things change for us and this just happens to be yours.” Her face suddenly became stern. “Besides, with your terrible behavior as of late, you could use a little refinement, and Vineswell Academy is just the place to provide that.”
“But it’s not like I’m not trying,” Gabrielle replied angrily. “It’s just sometimes I can’t control my temper…besides, Samantha deserved everything she got.”
“No, Gabi, she absolutely did not. Samantha did not deserve to be pushed.” Grandma Celeste shot her a stern look. “You could have seriously injured her. I know that I taught you better than that.”
Gabrielle quickly scrambled to sit, crossing her arms in front of her defensively while looking over at Grandma Celeste. “Grandma Celeste, how many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t push her? Why won’t you believe me?”
Grandma Celeste shook her head disappointedly. “No matter how much I try to break you out of it, you still have this ‘it’s-me-against-the-world’ attitude. Gabi, when are you going to realize that the world is not out to get you?”
Gabrielle angrily brushed away an unruly strand of hair from her face. “But Samantha is just a big bully and I was sick and tired of her trying to push everyone at school around,” she said. “Like I told you before, we were arguing then she walked away and tripped. I can’t help it if she’s clumsy.”
Gabrielle paused then continued more contritely. “I mean, she did make me very angry and maybe deep down inside I wished that she would trip…but wishing something and making it happen are two different things.”
Grandma Celeste softly grabbed Gabrielle’s face between her hands. “If nothing else, always remember this, Gabi: be careful of what you wish for because it will be returned to you threefold.”
Gabrielle’s face crumpled with confusion. “Oh, Grandma, what does that mean? You’re always saying strange things that I don’t even understand.”
“It means just be very careful of what you wish for,” Grandma Celeste responded very slowly. “Okay, no more dark and gloomy talk. After all, today is supposed to be a very happy day. You’re on your way to a new school, a new beginning, and new friends—so get up and get moving. And by the way, Mrs. Downey told me that breakfast is almost ready,” she added playfully.
Gabrielle smiled as she gave her grandmother a sharp military salute. “Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.”
Grandma Celeste chuckled as she leaned forward and tugged on Gabrielle’s nose. “You know, I might actually miss that smart mouth of yours,” she chirped happily.
“I heart you,” Gabrielle whispered softly.
“I love you, too,” her grandmother responded as she leaned heavily on her cane and got up from the bed.
Gabrielle watched with pure adoration as Grandma Celeste walked out of the room with the soft clicks of her cane echoing down the hallway.
* * *
Hours later, in Gabrielle’s room, the sun poured through sheer white curtains and landed on the cluttered desk with an orange laptop computer and magazines scattered across it. A huge pink-framed poster of a ballerina hung on the brightly painted wall and a small pair of well-worn pink ballet slippers hung from a pink ribbon on a hook near her bed.
With utter disgust written all over her face, Gabrielle pulled on a dark gold cardigan with a large ornate beige and gold emblem. She looked over at Fiona, who was firmly tucked in the center of Gabrielle’s bed, napping.
“So, okay, Fiona, what do you think of my outfit?”
Fiona looked at her with disinterest, purred softly, then closed her eyes again.
“Well, thanks a lot for your obvious interest, Fiona the Terrible,” Gabrielle said quickly.
As if outraged, Fiona screeched angrily.
“Okay, I’m sorry. It’s Fiona the Beautiful…not,” Gabrielle taunted.
She rushed over to the sequined and beaded flower mirror and stared at her tousled, curly hair that cascaded down to her shoulders. She stuck out her tongue with utter disgust. “Icky! What am I going to do with this wild hair of mine?” She hummed loudly and out of tune as she quickly picked up a brush from the messy dresser and brushed her hair, pulling it into the usual two dog ears ponytails while snapping a bright blue ponytail holder around each mound of hair.
“And now for the most important part,” she announced self-importantly as she shoved two bright red lollipops into the tops of each ponytail. She smiled happily as she posed and preened in front of the mirror like a supermodel at a photo shoot. “Work it, work it, work it!” she sung jokingly. She giggled hysterically then ran out of her bedroom and down the hallway. Looking around mischievously, she hopped on top of the smooth mahogany banister. Well, why not? One more ride for the road, she thought wickedly.
Downstairs in the dining room, the sun shined through a huge bay window and landed on an oval wooden table.
Grandma Celeste suddenly looked up from stirring her hot tea, and smiled knowingly. “Gabi, don’t you dare slide down that banister,” she shouted playfully, her loud voice bellowing from the dining room to the upstairs hallway.
Gabrielle smiled with mischief. “Oh, Grandma! Don’t be so mean. This is my last day at home. Come on! Let me slide down one last time.”
Grandma Celeste shook her head in defeat. “Like I could really stop you,” she whispered under her breath. She chuckled softly as she lifted the dainty, rose-painted teacup to her lips and sipped.
With a huge smile pasted on her face, Gabrielle twisted her body sideways with her legs dangling precariously over the side of the banister. With a gentle push, her body glided smoothly along the railing, her arms stretching out gracefully like a bird in flight.
Grandma Celeste walked out of the dining room, leaning on her cane as she watched Gabrielle slide smoothly down the banister. Midway down, she gracefully hopped off as her legs split in mid-air and landed firmly on the floor.
“Young lady, I know I taught you better than that,” Grandma Celeste scolded playfully. “Next time, point those toes.”
“Oh, Grandma Celeste, even though I had a lifetime of ballet lessons, I will never be as graceful as you are,” Gabrielle responded.
This was a fact that she could live with very happily; after all, back in the day, her grandmother was a well-renowned ballerina in one of the most famous companies in the country. She traded in her ballet shoes many years ago and was now the owner and director of a major New York ballet company that was recently hailed as one of the world’s best.
Grandma Celeste smiled. “Oh, stop being such a kiss-up and go eat your breakfast,” she joked, pulling playfully on the cherry lollipops that stuck out from the top of Gabrielle’s ponytails. “But before you go, let me see how good you look in your uniform.”
Gabrielle scrunched up her face as if she were in pain. “Oh, please. I look absolutely awful in this uniform!” she wailed loudly.
Grandma Celeste smiled as her brown eyes looked at Gabrielle in her crisp, pleated caramel-colored skirt, stiff beige blouse, and dark gold cardigan. “Oh, just stop complaining! You look like a respectable young lady for once.”
She gently ran her wrinkled fingers across the large ornate beige and gold emblem that was stitched onto the cardigan. “Oh, my goodness, this brings back so many good memories of my days at Vineswell Academy. What I wouldn’t give to be a young Vineswell girl again,” she exclaimed wistfully. “But most importantly, I’m so happy to see you in something other than those awful tight blue jeans. I mean, those jeans are so tight, you can barely bend your knees in them. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why you insist on wearing them practically every day. You have a closet full of clothes and you wear those horrible jeans every single day.”
She looked at Gabrielle suspiciously. “Young lady, I hope you didn’t pack them,” she scolded.
Gabrielle poked out
her lips sourly. “But, Grandma, they’re my lucky jeans. Besides, you know this uniform is just not my style. I mean, look at me. I look like a preppy nerd,” she complained.
“Now what in the world would make you think those dreadful jeans are lucky?” her grandmother asked.
Gabrielle rolled her eyes with exasperation. “Because I was wearing them when I was picked as the principal dancer for only the biggest dance recital of the year,” she boasted loudly.
“Give me a break! Luck had nothing to do with it. You were picked as the principal dancer because you just happen to be very talented, just like your mother and me, I might add,” Grandmother Celeste boasted.
“Oh, Grandma, stop giving me such a hard time.”
“Oh, Gabi, stop being such a big whiner,” she mocked playfully. “Besides, you’re just angry because for once in your life, you actually look like a girl instead of a messy tomboy. Now, no more yapping. Just go eat your breakfast. It’s probably cold by now.”
Gabrielle reluctantly walked away then abruptly turned around with a puzzled look on her face. “Grandma Celeste, can you answer one question for me?”
Grandma Celeste’s soft brown eyes narrowed curiously. “Of course, Gabi…anything.”
“How do you always know what I’m going to do, sometimes even before I make up my mind to do it?” Gabrielle asked quickly.
Grandma Celeste’s eyes twinkled mysteriously. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Like, when I’m about to slide down the banister. I mean, you’re always in another room or in another side of the house, but somehow you always know when I’m about to slide down. For the life of me, I just can’t figure out how.”
Grandma Celeste chuckled loudly. “Well, that’s such an easy question to answer. It’s my gift, Gabi—the gift to see exactly what you plan to do even before you think about doing it.”