Chapter Two

Cell Phones, Backpacks and Goblins

Trembling, with her back against the door, she scanned the room. Her eyes fell upon Teddy. She stared at him longingly, but grown-up thirteen-year-olds able to play T-rated games do not snuggle with teddy bears.

Moments later she was lying curled up on the bed holding Teddy. Comforted, she began to consider her situation; “Now that my mother has another migraine, I guess that means we’ll be moving again.”

Sara’s family moved often and lately, every couple of months and always after her mother had a migraine. They had been here since Christmas, merely six weeks ago.

“I will miss Tiffani; she has been the best friend I ever had. On my first day at my new school she walked up to me and said, Hi, my name is Tiffani. Welcome to Washington Irving Middle School. What are your classes? Maybe we have some classes together?’ A friend like that is a once in a lifetime find.”

“I need to explain to Tiffani why I am moving. I can’t leave without telling her,” she asked Teddy. “I need to call her now.” She sprang out of bed.

She searched the room looking for her cell phone. It was not on the table or the dresser, and it was not in her pocket or under the bed. Tearing the covers from the bed, all she found was dry; lint covered gummy bear hiding under the pillow. “EW.” She covered it back up with the pillow.

In her mind, she retraced her steps since coming home from school. “I always take the cell phone out of my backpack and put it in my pocket when my mom makes me pick up the backpack from the kitchen floor.” Sara slumped on the bed. “Mom never told me to pick up the backpack. It is still in the middle of the kitchen floor, and the cell phone is still in it- sitting in the midst of the pitch dark kitchen and surrounded by creepy computer calamities.” Sara had developed a severe case of calamitia-phobia.

She felt safe in her room. It was warm, it was light, and it was her space. Her mom was safe behind her closed door. No one was safe in the rest of the calamity infested house. She needed to figure out a way to get to the kitchen and retrieve her backpack without being attacked. She imagined the instant message escaping from her computer, morphing into a multitude of hairy monsters, and searching for her. It took little imagination to figure out what would happen if it found out she was there.

Thinking maybe a trip to the kitchen would not be a wise undertaking and convincing herself she did not need to call Tiffani right away anyway, she decided to start on her homework she had conveniently ignored. Her assignment was to look on the internet about some lame party in Boston. “Yes, a tea party. I hope my history book will have something in it because I’m not going near that computer, not ever again. Unfortunately, my history book is in my backpack. Who cares about some silly tea party in Boston? Pardon me, Sir, do you have any tea and crumpets?” she said in her most proper English accent, giggling.

“In my English class I need to start reading that Huckleberry something book, but it is also in my backpack. I can’t do that.”

“If I have to sit around, I could listen to music. Now, where is my iPod?” she asked herself as she glanced around the room, “Where else? In my backpack.”

She had no other choice. Rescuing her backpack was necessary. Inching herself cautiously towards the bedroom door, she listened- nothing but silence. Breathing deeply and opening the door warily, she peered down the hall. Nothing was visible except her mother’s closed-door illuminated by a fraction of light escaping her open door. She closed the door again and ran and jumped back on her bed, grabbing the teddy bear.

“I need courage. The calamities could be hiding anywhere.”

Rubbing her face with her hands, she paused and stared at the palm of her right hand.

It was back. In the center of her right palm appeared a tiny black star. She had first noticed one on her birthday. She had tried washing and scrubbing with every different type of soap she could find, but it wouldn’t go away. She had shown it to her mom.

Her mom had said, “You need to wash your hands for supper, Sara.”

She didn’t wash her hands. Instead, she found a magnifying glass and investigated the small dot in the middle of her hand. It wasn’t a dot at all. It was a small black star. The next day it was gone. Last week it had come back, and it had been white. Now the black star was back again. The star was not her current problem and staring at it would not give her any courage.

“Didn’t I hear somewhere about certain foods giving people super-human courage? I’m sure it was on the Food Network, the Discovery Channel or I made it up, but I’m sure it’s true.”

Searching the room she saw a can of warm Mountain Dew, a bag of crumpled Doritos laying on the floor and lifting her pillow once again, a disgusting gummy bear. “The Oreos, where are the Oreos? Oh yeah, I left them next to the computer.” She looked at the Doritos, then the gummy bear, and then back to the Doritos. “It will have to be Doritos because I am not touching that gummy bear.”

She guzzled the soda and ripped open the Doritos bag, spilling chips and crumbs all over her bed. “I have to clean that up before my mom sees it.” She stuffed her face with Doritos.

Satisfied, she crept towards the door, waiting for the super-human courage to explode inside her.

Whether it was the added caffeine, a full tummy, or only the resolution in her mind that she had to do this, Sara was more courageous.

Scanning the room for a weapon, she grabbed the first item she saw, the hairbrush her father had given her for her birthday. He said it was special. Pointing the hairbrush like a sword, she sneaked up to the door, ducked down low, opened the door, and entered the hallway, closing the door behind her. She crept along the floor in the dark, frightening hallway she hoped this would confuse the calamities into thinking that she was just the family pet. With her head down and her hairbrush at the ready, she crawled slowly towards the kitchen.

The calamities had not disturbed her; she knew they were out there, but they had not noticed her. They could be lying in wait, lulling her into feeling safe and then as she returned to her room they would attack. She peered into the darkness of the kitchen sure she saw the outline of something large in the corner. She rummaged through the backpack, grabbing the cell phone and the iPod and decided Huckleberry would have to fend for itself. There were not enough Doritos in the world to make her that brave. Remembering where she had laid the Oreos, she reached up and grabbed them as she crawled next to the computer. A faint glow flowed from the monitor. The light on the power cord was off. “Impossible,” she whispered, “everything is turned off.” As she briskly crawled down the hall, she could feel the breath of the calamities as they followed her.

Ping.

Sara jumped up and ran to her room slamming the door behind her and sinking to the floor. After calming herself, she shouted, “I did it. I rescued my cell phone and my iPod and my Oreos from the calamities.” Speaking as if she were an announcer, she said, “Introducing the latest Superhero Spy, Sara the valiant.” She bowed to the imaginary audience. As the imaginary applause died down, she called Tiffani on the cell phone. The call went straight to voicemail. It didn’t even ring.

She jumped into bed, listened to her iPod, and munched on a few Oreos. Eventually, she dropped the Oreos on the floor, turned over, grabbed Teddy, and fell asleep. Awakened in the middle of the night to the sound of crashing, she sat up in bed; but it was only a thunderstorm. She listened to the sound of the rain on the window and thought she heard the croaking of a frog or was it a toad? In a matter of seconds, she was fast asleep hoping the monsters did not function well in the morning.