The Blood Jewel (The Shomara Diaries Book 1)
Page 1
The
Blood
Jewel
Book I
of The Shomara Diaries
C. M. Henderson
Copyright © 2014 by C. M. Henderson Cover design and illustrations by Marlon Browne
All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
ISBN 10: 1495935612 ISBN 13: 9781495935619 Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
Dedicated to my grandchildren, Caitlyn, Ashlyn, Melanie, Alex, Mia, and Lexi, for whom I have written my stories, and
to my daughters, April, Mariann, Renee,
and my husband, Larry, for their patience and constant encouragement.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As this book goes to print, it is largely because of the support
and encouragement of many friends. To those who took the time to read this book, my mother, Wadene Adams,
Barbara Sorenson, Carolyn Giger, Marlon Browne, and Fred Malir,
my heartfelt thanks.
Your insights and feedback have been invaluable.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1: DOUBLE VISION .................................................1
CHAPTER 2: SHOCK AND SHAKE ...........................................8
CHAPTER 3: THE SPHINX THAT SCREAMED......................12
CHAPTER 4: BACKYARD BOMBSHELL ...............................17
CHAPTER 5: GIANT! ...............................................................24
CHAPTER 6: THE MISSION ....................................................27
CHAPTER 7: KEEPER ..............................................................31
CHAPTER 8: SPIRIT SIGHT.....................................................36
CHAPTER 9: SKY WORLDDO’S ANDDON’TS ....................41
CHAPTER 10: FAMILY AFFAIR .............................................47
CHAPTER 11: THE SURPRISE GIFT .......................................54
CHAPTER 12: AMELIA STARFIRE.........................................58
CHAPTER 13: SKY BATTLE! ..................................................61
CHAPTER 14: QUIRKS AND QUIPS .......................................66
CHAPTER 15: CONFERENCE IN THE CLOUDS ....................70
CHAPTER 16: SLUMBER PARTIES ........................................73
CHAPTER 17: THE REUNION .................................................78 CHAPTER 18: PAIN AND CONFUSION ................................. 84
CHAPTER 19: THE CONFESSION .......................................... 89
CHAPTER 20: THE GATE........................................................ 93
CHAPTER 21: THE NEST ........................................................ 99
CHAPTER 22: RELIEF FROM AN ODD CORNER ................ 105
CHAPTER 23: ESCAPE PLANS ............................................. 107
CHAPTER 24: THE BIRD....................................................... 110
CHAPTER 25: SHOMARA ..................................................... 115
CHAPTER 26: THE BLOOD JEWEL...................................... 123
CHAPTER 27:MARTIN’S SURPRISE ................................... 129
CHAPTER 28: TRANSPORTATION HANGUPS ................... 135
CHAPTER 29: CRACK-UP!.................................................... 141
CHAPTER 30: THE HIDE-OUT.............................................. 146
CHAPTER 31: OUT OF THE FRYING PAN . . . ..................... 150
CHAPTER 32: DANGER IN DISGUISE ................................. 155 EPILOGUE .......................................................................... 160 ABOUT THE AUTHOR: ............................................................ 162
CHAPTER 1: DOUBLE VISION
“Life’s minor frustrations can blind us to major shifts arising in our situation.”
~Martin Moonglow Oh hi. My name is Barrington Arthur Klutzenheimer, Barry for short. Yeah, I know. Any parents with the last name of Klutzenheimer (that’s pronounced kloo-szen-high-mer) ought be very careful when naming their offspring. Near as I can figure, my folks were off in another galaxy when I came along. It didn’t help that, by the time I got to sixth grade, my body started acting up. No duh. No sooner did my toe stumble over a painted line on the gym floor than I would find myself spread-eagled in front of nine dozen kids. And I can’t count the face plants in the school hallway that sent my backpack, papers and pencils skittering across the tiles.
But the clincher happened in the lunch room. I had turned my head to look at Lupita Sanchez—and slammed right into a pillar. Try living that one down. And yes, my name did evolve. I became—yeah, you guessed it—Barry Klutzy.
The fact that I have red hair that looks like a crop of rusty wires growing out of my head didn’t help either. I tried to get everybody to call me Rusty but it never took. I guess Rusty Klutzy was not nearly as much fun as Barry Klutzy.
But the day I had my first total meltdown was when I started seeing stuff. I remember it was garbage pickup morning. Get this. Before I could even get my eyeballs open, my mom hollered outside my bedroom door.
“Barry, get up! I need you to take out the trash.” Sweet wake up call, right? But it was breakfast when she lobbed her real grenade.
I was guzzling my orange jui ce. “So, Barry dear . . . . what are you doing after school today?” she asked. I froze, my juice glass still in mid air.
Uh, oh.
Finally I said, “Uh, nothin' I guess.”
Wait for it . . . .
“Good. I want you to clean out the garage when you get
home.” My appetite disappeared like pepperoni pizza in a football locker room. I stood up and headed for the stairs. Mom's voice snagged me before I got two steps.
“ Barry?”
“Yeah?”
“You did hear me, right?
Lemme think. No? Duh-h.
“Yeah, I heard you.”
“No excuses, today, Barry. Getting the car inside is already
hard. Now, with winter coming on, . . . .”
“All right, all right! Just don't bug me about it anymore,
'kay!”
“Barrington Arthur! What about that respect thing we talked
about last week?”
I stopped with my back to her and rolled my eyes. “Yes,
Mom,” I said in my best “respect” voice.
“That's better,” she said, “And don't roll your eyes.” Dang! How does she do that? She’s gotta have hidden
cameras around here somewhere.
I thought of my sister, Jenny, and growled all the way up the
stairs. “Mom never makes her do anything except empty the
dishwasher. But me? She gives me all the heavy jobs around the
whole house! Ever since Dad . . . .” My throat tightened. Dad, I really miss you. Oh yeah. I haven’t told you that part.
My dad was killed when his car nose-dived into the river six months
ago.
Up in my room, I slid on my backpack. Then, returning to
the stairway, I boot-stomped each stair all the way down and
shouldered the front door, letting it slam behind me. Mom yelled
about the trash again, but I didn't look back. I just hauled up my
bike, knocked the kickstand to the side, and peeled rubber all the way
to the street.
School didn’t help my mood. My best friend, Chad
Sorenson, was away
on vacation in Hawaii. Life was dull without
him. I yanked open my locker, grabbed my books, and rammed the
locker door shut with my elbow. You scuzzball, Chad. How could
you take off to Hawaii for two whole weeks? Here I have to go to
these mindnumbing classes while you’re stretched out on some
beach in Waikiki.
Ever since he moved here three years ago, Chad and I have
been best buds. Chad is the only one who can make me laugh. Take
the day he bought a bag of Cheetos, put two in his nose, one in each
ear, and let two more dangle from his upper lip while he ate his
lunch. If Mrs. Gimbal hadn’t come over and made him take them
out, he’d still be wearing them.
But today there was nothing to laugh about. In fact,
everything made me see red. I saw Dave Dimmerwitz and two of his
hoods up to their old tricks. They were harassing some new kid with
coke-bottle thick glasses and a brand new backpack. “The Dave”
was playing his favorite gag. He’d buy a can of soda pop and shake
it real hard. Then he would walk up to a newbie, hand him the coke,
and “welcome” him to Fairmont Middle School. I felt so helpless
when the boy smiled and opened the can, only to have it squirt all
over his face and his shirt.
I know the feeling. Without Chad here, I always feel like a
neon sign flashing “Nerd Alert! Nerd Alert!” When I walk past the
eighth grade homeroom every day, there’s always a mob of kids
hanging around the hall doors chanting, “There goes Brainy Barry!” I hate that razz. Today, I swung around and walked
backward. “Wha-aat!” I yelled. “So now it’s a mortal sin to make
A’s?”
Yeah. Okay. So I pulled a 3.95 GPA last quarter. Big deal.
If it weren’t for Chad, I’d let my grades slide. But we’ve got this bet
going, see? Whoever pulls the best GPA for a quarter gets to give
the other a noogie. Chad, the rat, made a straight 4-pointer. My
head still hurts. But, hey. He’s missing two whole weeks of school. He can’t possibly make up his grades now. Revenge will be so
sweet.
Just then, Dave Dimmerwitz rounded the corner in front of
me. Dang. This just ain’t my day. He yanked me off my feet and
bashed me against the wall.
“Hel-lo-o, Barry Klutzy,” Dave said with a snicker. He shoved his face in close and I choked. Ew-w! Honkin’
case of dragon breath there, Davey.
He shook me and said, “Got a message for you so listen up.” Uh, yeah. Like I have a choice.
I did manage to mutter, “Why don’t you leave me alone, you
punk.”
Dave pretended he didn’t hear me and went on. “Me and the
gang have decided that you're not makin' anything more than a “C”
on that science test today. Got it?”
I nodded. It was never a good idea to argue with The Dave. That’s when I saw . . . . I felt my jaw go slack. What the . . .
? No! It can't be. But there was no mistake. Out from behind
Dave's teeth crawled a mass of . . . maggots.
Dave scowled at me, his mouth full of worms, and mumbled,
“You don’t look so good, Klutzy.” Then he snorted—and a fat
maggot flew out of his nose and landed on my chin!
I went ballistic. I wind-milled my arms and clawed at the
wall behind me trying to pull away. Dave laughed and swung me
around pinning me against the lockers.
“Whatsamatterwichoo?” he roared. “Scared?”
I felt the worm drop down inside my shirt and I screamed.
“Ee-yeww! It’s crawling on me!” I scrambled backwards digging
my heels into the locker door.
“I’m not crawling on you,” Dimmerwitz smirked. “Not yet
anyway. But hey! Where’s your bodyguard? Ol’ Chaddo gone
AWOL, has he?” Then he yanked on my jacket real hard. “Listen,
Barry Brainiac, ifyou make an ‘A’ on that science test today, the
gang is gonna bend your fingers back so badyou won’t be able to
hold a pencil for a week. Got it? You make the rest of us look so
dumb.”
Then he let me go. My legs turned to Jello and I slumped to
the floor. How I wanted to smash that sewer rat’s face! But after
seeing all those maggots, I wasn’t about to touch him. Besides, at
five foot nine inches and a mere one hundred fifteen pounds, I didn’t stand a chance against a pigmy, let alone a brawny brute like
Dimmerwitz.
Then I felt it. The maggot! It was still down my shirt.
Shuddering, I watched The Dave swagger off. As soon as his back
was turned, I shot to my feet. You’d have thought I was auditioning
for“Dancing With the Stars” the way I twisted and gyrated and
flapped my shirt up and down. Finally, the worm dropped to the
floor—and I mashed it with my foot.
“Yech-ch!”
In a state of shock, I still managed to get to the science lab
that afternoon for the test but I couldn’t remember why. My brain
was still reeling from my encounter with Dimmerwitz. I kept seeing
little slimy things slithering across my paper. It didn’t help that Dave
and his bozos kept giving me the evil eye all through the period.
What I scribbled on that test wasanybody’s guess. I just wanted to
get out of there. The moment class was over, I tossed my paper onto
the teacher’s desk and made a beeline for my locker.
And that’s when I saw him. A tall man wearing a long
overcoat passed me in the main hall not twenty feet away.
Something about him made me stop and swing around. That walk.
He leans one shoulder to the right just the way Dad did! My heart
wore cleats climbing into my throat.
“Dad!” I shouted, but the man continued to move away, even
lengthening his stride as he made for a side door. I dived into the
after-school crush, pushing, shoving, bobbing above the sea of heads
to keep him in sight. But the hallway was packed. By the time I
reached the door, he was gone. I dashed outside. A long line of
school buses stretched the full length of the block. I looked both
ways. I even jumped onto the buses and scanned every face. But the
man had just evaporated.
The soles of my shoes felt like lead weights as I shuffled back
to the school. I slumped down against a wall and dumped my head
onto my arms. Dad. I’m never going to see you again, am I? My
face was soon wet with tears and I pulled my hood up. I felt myself
go cold, then hot, then cold again. Ever since the accident I have
imagined seeing Dad umpteen times. It ripped my heart out every
time. Now with this maggot stuff on top of it all, I felt like my life
was circling the drain. Nothing made sense anymore.
Then I wiped my eyes and slammed my fist on the cement. “I
am not cleaning your garage today, Mother Dear!” I growled. The
last thing I needed was time in that garage. The place was full of memories. Dad and I had spent many a golden hour puttering in that garage. It had been our playground. Dad would always start out with, “Hey, Barry. Mom’s been wanting a water fountain. I’ve got
an idea how to construct one. Interested?”
I was always interested. It was so cool to hang out with my
dad. He had a way of making me
feel important. And tinkering with
him at his tool bench always yielded some fascinating insight. He
would even listen to my ideas. Now . . . .
I swept my hand across my face and jumped to my feet. “I need a place to zone out. MaybeI’ll hit the video arcade.”
I called my mom’s cell phone and her voice mail took the call. “Hey,
Mom, I’m going over to Chad’s for a while. See you at dinner.” Now I was well aware thatMom didn’t know Chad was in
Hawaii. I’d forgotten to tell her. Okay, so I told a little white lie.
Big deal. But my mom does know that Chad and I are competing for
good grades. Mom will just think I’m over at Chad’s studying. She
didn’t know that we usually played video games in his rec room
instead.
The real truth was, I hoped my mother would forget about the
garage. After Dad died, she had gone to work full time. Her new job
stressed her out and I knew she’d been really absent-minded lately.
Right, Barry. Why do YOU forget the problems your mom has to
face every day? Who said that? Yeah, okay. I do forget. Uh-uh. You did not forget.
With Chad gone, my only option was the video arcade. That is not your only option.
Yeah, but I don’t have a rippin’ game room like Chad’s. You know your mom hates the video arcade.
Okay, I knew that, too. It wasn’t like she hadn’t told me a
hundred times. I could say her speech by heart:
“Video arcades are so unhealthy, Barry,” I mouthed in my
best ‘Mom’ voice. “Kids that hang out there are not the kind of
friends I want for you. It’s just not safe.”
Of course, I always had my pat answer. “I’m street smart,
Mom. I can take care of myself.”
With that, I shut all my inner voices down hard.
In no time, I was savoring the sights and sounds of the arcade.
Like any hard core gamer, I loved the noise of the place. It made me
feel alive. I took my time wandering back to my favorite game. But wouldn’t you know, who showed up out of nowhere but
Calvin Lumpskin, one of Dave’s goons. Right off the bat, the guy
stepped in front of me. I moved to go around him but he deliberately
blocked my way again.
“Hey, dog breath. Let me through!” I said, trying to sound