The Night that Changed New Landia
Part Four
Written by the
Polliwog Pages Rockland Library Students
(Oliver, Dominic, Gabriel, Gloria, Elizabeth, Sena,
Genevieve, Sadie, Jacinta, Evelyn, Eliot)
Part Four
"Lost"
After dropping off mail at
three more houses, I headed toward the lower mountains on the other side of the
island. It was getting later, and the shadows getting darker as evening
approached.
I always spend the night with
Grampa Don Hayward. He was one of the first settlers of New Landia. Once the
new-comers began building the city and roads and such, he took to the hills. He
lives there alone – well, he’s got two of orphaned grandchildren with him,
Emily and John.
The children have only been
with him a few months. John misses the cars and trucks in the city, but is
adjusting fairly well, especially when his grandfather lets him drive the old
truck. Emily is having trouble getting used to life in the woods. She misses
her friends at school, but she has Livie, her house cat that is afraid of the
woods.
When I pulled in front of the
cabin, I saw that it was dark. By late afternoon, they usually have their lamps
lit and are getting ready for supper. I thought they might have been out for a
walk, so I sat on the porch and waited.
I heard a motor chugging and
soon saw John and his grandfather returning with their double cutter skidder
and a load of logs.
“Hello, Sam!” John called
out. “I knew it was you. I could see your red sneakers a mile away. When I grow
up, I want red sneakers, just like you.”
Don Hayward climbed down from
his skidder and helped John to the ground. A large dog jumped out, too.
“Good evening.” I stood up to
meet them. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“We found a tame wolf,” said
John. “Grampa Don lets him ride in the tractor because he has clean paws.”
“Where’s Emily? She’s not
with you?”
Grampa Don lit a lamp and
looked all around the house. “No, she decided to stay home. She said something
about marking some maple trees, so we would know which ones to get syrup from
next spring.” He walked to the edge of the woods and lifted the lamp. “See.
She’s tied a ribbon around this sugar maple tree. “
I lit a lantern, too, and we
began tracing Emily’s path by following the pale ribbons around the trees.
“Emily! Emily!” Down the mountain, through the dark trees, we walked and
walked. One ribbon was tied around two trees that grew close together, but
there were no more. “Emily!”
“Grampa! I’m over here,” we
heard her call. We scrambled through the bushes and along a rocky stream toward
her voice. She lifted her arms up to her grandfather. “I was looking for a
smooth stone for my collection and fell on the slippery moss. I can’t move my
foot.” Her face was wet with tears, and her leg was covered with mud and blood.
John carried the lantern, and between Grampa and me, we carried Emily back up
to the cabin.
Grampa gently washed and
wrapped her leg in bandages. After both children were finally asleep, Grampa
Don and I talked into the night. It had been quite a day for me, and I hoped to
get a good night’s sleep, too.
I hadn’t been asleep but
about three hours, when I was awoken by a rumbling sound. It wasn’t thunder.
The windows and the dishes began rattling. Grampa Don burst into my room. “It’s
going to blow! We’ve got to get out of here!
(to be continued)
If you are between the ages of 4-12,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!
Signed,
Wiggles the Polliwog
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