The Trials of Otto

Illustration by Summer  Age:  8  Paris. TN

          This story is now in production to become a children's book.  I will have details as I get them as to where and when you may purchase this book.

My Debut

“Hey Grandma, did you ever play T-ball?” asked an excited brown-eyed five year old.

            “When I was little they didn’t have T-ball.  All we had was little league softball,” answered her grandma.

            “Did you play softball?” asked her older sister.

            “Yes, I did.  Would you girls like to hear about the first time I pitched for a real game?” asked their grandma.

            “Yes!!” they both exclaimed and settled in for a story.

            When I was little everyone ages 9-12 played little league.  We didn’t have the age groupings that they have now.  That meant that you were stuck in the outfield until you were 11 or 12 years old unless you were really good.  I spent many games in the outfield until I was 11 years old.  I couldn’t catch very well, but I had a good arm.  One day during warm-ups my coaches noticed me pitching underhand to my fellow player.  I was pitching straight to my friend every single time.  My coach pulled me aside, made me stand the right distance for the pitcher’s mound from her, and asked me to pitch to her.  I hit her glove every single pitch.  She was completely shocked. 

They started working with me to learn how to play the position of pitcher during practices for the next several weeks.  Then the night finally came.  My coach told me that sometime during the game he was going to let me pitch.  I was beyond excited.   For the first four innings, however, I sat on the bench.  I was beginning to think he had forgotten about me.  Finally in the fifth inning when we took the field he put me in right field and said to me that during the inning he was going to let me pitch.

He only let the other girl pitch for one batter.  Then he came out of the dugout and signaled me to come to the pitcher’s mound.  The other team was rather amused at the prospect of me pitching.  We had played this team many times, and I never played anything but outfield.  The umpire let me have four warm-up pitches before the next batter, and I started what would become a ritual for me as a pitcher.  All four pitches were wild and no where near the strike zone.  It was my way of getting all the wild pitches out of my system.  However, the other team was laughing hysterically and my coaches were more than a little nervous when the next batter stepped up to the plate.

My first pitch was right down the middle hard and fast.  The batter was completely shocked as was the other team.  The laughing ceased and my team cheered.  The next two pitches were exactly like the first one.  That batter was out before she really knew what happened to her.  She didn’t even swing her bat once.  The next batter went down swinging but made no contact.  She was also out in three pitches.  By the third batter there was complete silence in the ballpark.  All the parents and spectators were in shock.  It didn’t matter that the catcher had to basically roll the ball back to me because I couldn’t catch.  As a pitcher, I had just established myself as a dangerous opponent.  The third batter also went down swinging in three pitches without making any contact.  It was three up, three down in nine pitches.  The other team never laughed at me again.

I eventually did learn to catch as the rest of that year progressed.  By the next year I was actually one of the star players playing both pitcher and third baseman.  I never had an inning as perfect as that first one, but I had many three up, three down innings in my little league career.

The Meadow Encounter

Illustration by Summer  Age:  8  Paris, TN

Summer the cardinal, Meagan the robin, and Skylar the blue jay were waiting in the big red maple tree for their friend Amelia the meadowlark.  The four friends were going to spend the day in Melody Meadow.  Amelia was running a little late.

            Summer looked across the meadow and saw Amelia heading for the tree.  “There she is!” she cried.  Then three large blackbirds flew in front of Amelia forcing her to land on the ground.  “Oh no!” cried Summer, “Rachel the raven and her two sidekicks, Betty and Beatrice the blackbird twins, have ambushed Amelia!”

            “What are we going to do!” Meagan exclaimed.  “We can’t let those bullies hurt Amelia.”

            Summer thought hard.  Then she noticed the large birdfeeder full of birdseeds in front of the maple tree.  “I have a plan,” she said.  “Do you see those birdseeds?  We’re going to use those birdseeds to distract Rachel and the twins to give Amelia a chance to get away.  Skylar, you will fly in from the right.  Meagan, you will fly in from the left, and I will fly in from behind.  We’ll drop as many seeds as we can carry on them all at once.  Hopefully that will give Amelia the chance to get by them.  Then we will all fly back to this tree as fast as we can.  Got it?”

            The three friends flew down to the birdfeeder and picked up as many birdseeds as they could hold.  Then they each took off in their assigned direction.  Skylar was the first to reach the bullies and made the first drop, but she flew right into Meagan who was coming from the other direction making her drop her seeds before she reached the bullies.  Skylar and Meagan became tangled up together and had to land on the ground close to Amelia.  Skylar’s birdseed drop had only made the bullies angry.  Now Rachel and the twins had all three of the friends surrounded.

            “That was a stupid thing to do, Skylar,” Rachel taunted.  “Now I’ll have to beat up all three of you.”

            Summer had seen Skylar’s and Meagan’s accident in time to pull up and fly to the nearest tree.  She needed a new plan.  If she could just distract Rachel long enough for one of her friends to get away, then the two of them might be able to find a way for the other two to get away as well.

            Then Rachel puffed up her chest and spread her wings to make herself look bigger.  The twins did the same.  They were preparing to peck the three friends.  Summer was out of time.  Desperately, she flew down toward Rachel’s head and hit Rachel with her feet.  Skylar had seen Summer coming and as soon as Rachel was distracted by the hit, Skylar flew up into Rachel’s face cawing as loud as she could.  This threw Rachel off balance and gave Skylar the opportunity to fly away.   Meanwhile, Summer had circled around and was diving at the twins giving Meagan and Amelia the opportunity to fly away as well. 

            When Summer realized that all three of her friends were free, she followed them as they all frantically flew toward the maple tree with Rachel and the twins hot on their trail.  As they neared the tree, they realized that many birds had flown from the tree in their direction.  However, they flew past the friends and chased Rachel and the twins away.

            When the friends reached the maple tree, they landed on the nearest branch exhausted from their adventure.  Amelia looked at her three friends and said, “That was the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me.  You guys are the greatest friends a girl could ever have.”

            Skylar looked at Summer and said, “That was so brave taking on Rachel like you did.”

            Summer replied, “I couldn’t let them peck you so I just attacked.  I am really glad the other birds came to our rescue.”

            “Me, too,” said the other three.  For the rest of the day they stayed close together and enjoyed their visit to Melody Meadow.

Madison and the Ice Skates

Illustration by Summer  Age:  8  Paris, TN

           Madison opened her eyes and snuggled deeper into her bed.  Today was the big day.  She would use her brand new ice skates for the first time.  They had been her biggest Christmas present yesterday when the presents had been opened.  Now they sat in their box on a shelf above her chair.  Her sister, Marie, was supposed to take her to the lake and show her how to skate.  Her excitement built as she thought about gliding across the lake like her sister, Marie, did.

            Madison climbed out of bed and dressed quickly.  She didn’t want Marie to leave her behind.  Down the stairs she dashed holding the box with her ice skates in her arms.  She almost plowed right into her mother who was coming up the stairs to wake her up.

            “Good morning, sunshine!” her mother said.  “Wow, you’re up early and already dressed.  I wonder what in the world could make you do that,” she said with a smile.

            Madison just grinned and went straight to the breakfast table.  Marie and her friend, Grace, were already at the table busily eating.  Madison crammed down her breakfast, and then waited impatiently for her sister and friend to finish.  Finally, they were all bundling up in coats, hats, mittens, scarves, and boots for their day of fun.

            As they stepped out into the cold, Madison could see her breath in front of her face.  She had to hurry to keep up with Marie and Grace, but she didn’t mind.  All she could think about was gliding on the ice.  Before long the lake came into view.  Already several people were skating around in a big wide circle.  The girls found a bench and began to lace up their skates.  Madison struggled with the laces and had to ask Marie to help her.  Once the skates were on, they all stumbled toward the lake. 

            Once Marie and Grace reached the ice, they immediately glided off joining the flow around the big wide circle.  When Madison reached the ice, she immediately fell on her bottom.  She tried to get up, but couldn’t manage to get her feet under her.  The ice was just too slippery.  Suddenly she heard her sister say, “Need some help?”

At first, Madison didn’t want any help, but when another attempt to get up ended with her again on her bottom, she took her sister’s hand.  She clung to both Marie’s and Grace’s arms as they pulled her along.  All she could think about was trying to keep her feet upright and going straight.  Her feet kept wobbling from side to side threatening to take her down at any minute.  She didn’t even notice that now she, too, was in the flow of people going around the big wide circle.

            More than once, she stumbled and ended up on the ice, but each time Marie and Grace would help her up and off they would go again.  Finally after 30 minutes of stumbling and being pulled along, Madison started to get the hang of it.  After another 30 minutes, she started to try to move her feet like the other skaters.  She even let go of Marie and Grace and struck out on her own.  It wasn’t the gliding she had imagined, but it was so much fun to slip and slide along the ice.   

Chasing Baby Pigs

Illustration by Summer  Age:  8  Paris, TN

            “Hey Grandma, what was it like to live on a farm?” asked a wide-eyed redheaded five-year-old. 

            "Yeah Grandma, did you have cows and chickens and stuff?” asked her eight-year-old sister.

            “No girls, I lived on a pig farm.  All we had was pigs, dogs, and cats,” replied their grandma.  “Want to hear about my job on the farm?”

            “Yes!” the girls cried in unison as they sat down preparing for a story.

            On our pig farm I had a bunch of little jobs here and there, but my main job was helping my dad and older brother round up the baby pigs when they got out of the pigpen.  Baby pigs are fast as lightning, but so was I.  I was faster than even my older brother at short distances.

            One day my dad came running in the house yelling for my older brother and me.  “Come quick, the baby pigs are running loose.”

            I quickly put on my shoes and headed out the door.  Sure enough, there were five baby pigs running along the woods in the front yard heading for the road.  Daddy was already trying to head them off before they reached the road.  I dashed out the door with my older brother close on my heels.  Daddy managed to get them stopped before they got to the road, but they turned around running along the woods heading for the back yard and Mom’s garden.  I came flying off the porch trying to stop them before they made it to the back yard.  I did manage to stop two of them, but the other three kept heading for the back yard.  Leaving the two for my older brother to chase, I took off as hard as I could go to try to get ahead of the pigs before they reached my mom’s garden.  I caught them right at the edge of the garden.  Clapping my hands and making as much noise as possible, I tried to steer the baby pigs back toward the front yard.  It worked.  All three pigs headed back along the woods toward the front yard.

            As the pigs and I came into the front yard we ran right into the two pigs my brother had been chasing.  This stalled all the pigs allowing us to slowly move them forward across the front yard by keeping behind them and to each side.  As we neared the driveway, we realized the car was going to block our progress.  When we reached the car two pigs went around the front of the car, two pigs went around the back of the car and one pig went back toward the woods.  I stayed with the two pigs that went around the front of the car and herded them down toward my dad who was now standing by the open gate of the pigpen ready to help herd them through.  I was hard on their heels yelling and clapping driving them straight toward the open gate.  They shot straight through.  Two down.

            I had to quickly get out of the way because my older brother came racing up herding two more of the baby pigs toward the open gate.  One tried to dash away from the gate, but I was in the way.  Between the two of us, my brother and I managed to get those two pigs through the gate.  Two more down, and one more to go.

            The other baby pig had made its way to the back yard again.  Instead of heading full out toward the back yard, I walked quietly along the edge of the garden trying not to startle the pig.  My older brother went around the house to come in behind the pig to keep it from going back in the front yard.  When I managed to get behind the pig, I started yelling and clapping trying to drive the pig toward the side yard and the gate to the pigpen.  It worked.  I yelled for my brother to get to the side yard and kept to the left and slightly behind the baby pig.  The baby pig tried to turn toward the front yard but came face to face with my older brother.  It tried to turn around and head for the back yard, but came face to face with me.  My brother and I slowly herded the last pig toward the gate keeping the pig from straying to the right or to the left.  Finally, it shot through the gate, and Dad closed the gate behind it.  Done.  My brother and I slowly walked to the front porch and collapsed.  Chasing baby pigs was hard, hard work.

Lily's Rainbow Adventure

            Lily sat on the welcome mat on her front porch looking across her wet yard.  The rain had just stopped, and a beautiful rainbow had appeared in the sky.

            “I wonder what it would be like to walk over a rainbow,” Lily said to herself.

            She closed her eyes and pretended she was walking on top of the rainbow.  It was made out of colored bricks.  From the top of the rainbow she could see for miles.  She could see her house and her grandma’s house.  She could see the store and the park where she loved to play. 

In the park she spied something behind a tree.  Could it be?  It was a dragon.  Lily spread her arms and flew through the air to the park.  She landed next to the tree where the dragon was hiding.

“Hello,” Lily called to the dragon.  The dragon did not come out.  “I won’t hurt you.”

The dragon carefully stepped toward Lily while she held out her hand.  When the dragon came close enough, Lily rubbed its scaly nose. 

“Would you like to fly with me to the rainbow?” Lily asked the dragon.  The dragon nodded and the two friends flew together until they landed on the top of the brick rainbow.  They sat together and watched the world beneath them.

Lily woke up from her lovely daydream and sighed.  “I wish I really could sit on top of a brick rainbow,” she said as she went back into her house.

Cobalt's Quest for Jeans

           It was a lazy summer afternoon for the toys in Coltyne’s room.  Their owner, Coltyne, was away at summer camp for the week.  Most of the toys were keeping busy with games and other things.  Everyone seemed happy, except for one.  Cobalt the robot was having a personal crisis.

            Cobalt was sitting in the corner holding a picture of a boy wearing jeans and a t-shirt.  Suddenly Cobalt the Robot exclaimed, “I’m tired of running around naked.  I want clothes especially a pair of really cool jeans.”

            An action figure that was playing nearby looked at Cobalt and said, “What does a robot need with clothes?  You’re not supposed to wear clothes.”

            “You get to have a cool uniform.  I just want to have something besides my plain outside,” replied Cobalt.

            The action figure responded, “Maybe some of Coltyne’s sister’s dolls will let you have some clothes.”

            Cobalt liked that idea and set off for Coltyne’s sister’s room.  Fortunately, Coltyne’s sister was downstairs watching TV.  Cobalt slowly opened the door and walked cautiously over to the dollhouse.

            “Excuse me,” said Cobalt, “I was wondering if maybe you had some clothes I could wear.”

            A doll with dark brown eyes and black hair walked up to Cobalt and laughed, “What does a robot need with clothes?”
             Embarrassed, Cobalt responded, “I just want something to wear besides my plain outside.”

            The doll rolled her eyes and shouted to the other dolls, “Hey, do you guys think we have anything that will fit this robot?”

            Another doll with blue eyes and blond hair walked up with a shirt and pair of pants in her hands.  Cobalt smiled at the doll.  These clothes looked promising, but when he tried to put his leg into the pants they didn’t fit over his feet.  The shirt also wouldn’t go over his head.  Disgusted, Cobalt turned and left Coltyne’s sister’s room.

            He wasn’t ready to give up his quest just yet, so he sneaked down the stairs and into the empty kitchen.  A salt shaker in the shape of a chef greeted him as he entered, “Good afternoon, what brings you to the kitchen?”

            “I’m trying to find something to wear.  I tried to put on some doll clothes, but they didn’t fit.  I just want something on instead of my plain outside,” stated Cobalt.  “What I really want is a cool pair of jeans.”

            “Well, maybe you can make some clothes,” suggested the salt shaker.  “That way you will know they fit.”

             “Good idea,” replied Cobalt regaining some hope.  “What do you suggest I use?”

            “Let’s see,” thought the salt shaker.  “For jeans you will need to find something that is long and kind of stretchy.  I think there are some banana peels in the trash.  They are really long.  They might work.”

            Cobalt went over to the trash can and climbed up to the top.  It smelled horrible, but sure enough, there on the top were two banana peels.  He carefully crawled down the side, grabbed the banana peels, and quickly climbed out.  Once he was back on the floor, he carefully spread out the banana peels and inspected them.  This just might work.  He stepped on the connected top of the banana peels and spread the flaps of the peels up his legs.  The banana peels stuck to his legs as he smoothed them out.  They came all the way up to his waist.  He thought maybe he had succeeded until he saw his reflection in the toaster.   He looked ridiculous.  Disgusted he threw the banana peels back in the trash.  Feeling defeated, a sticky, smelly Cobalt made his way back up the stairs to Coltyne’s room.

            Once back in the room Cobalt slumped into a corner.  A toy orca made his way over to Cobalt and sat beside him.  When the orca gave him a questioning look, Cobalt replied, “Don’t ask.”

            “I heard you talking earlier about wanting clothes,” said the orca.  “I guess your search didn’t go well.”

            Cobalt just groaned.

            “You know, if I tried to put on clothes I would look ridiculous, too,” stated the orca, “but Coltyne plays with me just the way I am.  You are one of Coltyne’s favorite toys.  He doesn’t care whether or not you have clothes.  He likes you just the way you are.”

            Cobalt thought about what the orca had said.  He knew Coltyne didn’t care whether or not he had clothes.  Maybe he shouldn’t either.

            “You’re right,” sighed Cobalt.  “I looked totally ridiculous with clothes on.  I guess if Coltyne plays with me, I should be okay with that.”

            “Maybe you should go to the bathroom and wash off.  You smell horrible,” said the orca wrinkling up his nose.

            Cobalt grinned and trekked off to the bathroom to wash.

The Taming of Snow White

Illustration by Summer  Age:  8  Paris, TN

“Grandma, tell us a story, PLEASE!” exclaimed a wiggly redheaded girl of four.

            “Yeah, Grandma, tell us a story about when you were little,” echoed her seven-year-old sister.

            “Okay, sit down and be still and I’ll tell you about the time I tamed a wild kitten.”

            Back when I was little, we lived on a hog farm.  Our house sat on a small hill and the yard sloped down on the right-hand side about 50 yards to the gate of the pigpen.  My swing set sat at the top of the hill next to the driveway.  I spent most of my days playing in that side yard. 

            One summer day when I was eight years old, I spied something in the pigpen that was not a pig.  It was mostly white, but it had black, brown, orange, and even a little pink on it.  This animal was fluffy and much smaller than a baby pig.  It was a beautiful calico kitten.  Running immediately down to the fence of the pigpen, I tried to get a better view, but I scared it away.

            The next day I spotted it again.  This time I quietly sneaked down to the fence trying to make as little noise as possible.  The kitten walked along the outside wall of the barn where my daddy fed the pigs.  My heart nearly stood still.  It was the most beautiful kitten I had ever seen.  I quietly slipped away and went to ask my mom how I could get that kitten to be my kitten.

            My mom explained to me that it was a wild kitten and wasn’t used to people.  She said the only way to tame it would be to somehow find a way for it to get used to me.  She suggested putting out a bowl of milk everyday until it got used to being fed and then try to pet it while it was drinking.

            From that point I was on a mission.  The first day I placed a bowl of milk a few feet from the gate to the pigpen and went mostly up the hill to the house to sit and watch.  It took five minutes or so, but the kitten finally came to the bowl and sniffed the milk.  It took a couple of drinks and then shrank back.  Cautiously, it came back to the milk and drank some more.  I sat as perfectly still as I could.  When it finished the milk, it ran back to the pigpen.

            The next day I went out with the milk at about the same time as the day before.  I placed the milk on the ground a little farther from the gate this time.  I took up my position close to the top of the hill and waited.  It only took a couple of minutes this time before the kitten came to the bowl.  On this day every time the kitten started to drink, I would very slowly scoot forward.  When the kitten looked up, I would freeze.  Before the kitten finished the milk, I managed to get within 10 feet of it.

            This pattern continued for the next three days.  Each day I would come out with the milk at about the same time.  I would place it a little farther from the gate each day, and I would start farther down the hill each day.  Every time the kitten would drink, I would very slowly scoot forward.  When the kitten looked up, I would freeze.  By the end of the third day, I had managed to get within a couple of feet of the kitten.  I tried to reach out and touch the kitten, and scared it away.

            Disappointed that I had scared the kitten away, I didn’t give up.  The next day I went out with my bowl of milk at the same time.  This time the kitten was a little more cautious about coming to the bowl, but once it started drinking, we started our usual ritual.  This time I got much closer to the kitten, but didn’t try to touch it.  I stayed that close until the kitten finished.  While waiting for the kitten to finish, I decided the next day would be the day.  I would pet the kitten.

            The next day went exactly as the others had.  I slowly crept closer to the kitten every time it drank.  When I got as close as I had the day before, I sat there for several minutes being as still as possible.  Then I very quietly reached out my hand and gently touched the kitten.  The kitten backed up for just a second and then returned to the bowl.  This time I stroked the kitten’s back once.  Again the kitten backed away for a second, but returned to the bowl.  The third time I stroked the kitten several times and the kitten began to purr.  I knew I had succeeded. 

            It still took several days of petting the kitten while it was eating to make the kitten comfortable with me, but before long the kitten would come up to me when I came out with the bowl of milk.  After another week or so, the kitten actually let me pick it up.  At that point I figured out it was a girl kitten and named her Snow White.  She was officially my kitten.