Document8

IMPORTANT NOTE: As I'm running this blog by myself and have been very busy, this will probably the last post for a while. Possibly until next school semester. 

Hi guys! Another new author has submitted to us. His name is Caleb and this is the beginning of his story, Document8. I hope that you enjoy it and will continue to follow our blog and share it with your friends! 

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Prologue

            John Thomas pulled open the church's side door and walked into his office. It had been a typical Monday afternoon for him, paying visits to sick members of the church family, organizing a barbeque for the following Sunday, and preparing a sermon for the following Sunday. But now, finally, the day was nearly over.

            He sat down at his computer and was just about to check his e-mail when the ringing of the phone in the outer office caught his attention.

            “Citrus Heights Community Church.” This was Grace, the perpetually cheerful secretarial intern. A recent high school graduate, she was volunteering at the church over the summer before going off to college to study medicine.

            John, turning his attention back to his computer, opened his e-mail and started to read an e-mail from a friend overseas in China. Only a moment later, however, his focus was broken by Grace's voice, not quite so cheerful this time.

            “Oh hi Mrs. Downey...what happened?”

            There was a small gasp.

            “No!...is...is she okay?” John was used to Grace's reacting sympathetically to phone calls, but now she sounded on the verge of sobbing.

            “What...what happened to her?” Grace's voice trembled. John leaned forward in his chair, brow furrowed in worried concentration.

            “Oh...oh....” Grace's breath came in short gasps. “Poor, poor baby!” She took a few deep breaths to try and get a hold of herself. “Thanks for telling me...tell her I love her and...I'll be praying for her. Okay...yes...yes...okay, bye.”

            John heard the phone drop onto the desk, then Grace's muffled sobs. He heard Grace take a few, unsteady, deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Then there was a small squeak as she got up out of her office chair, followed by soft footsteps coming towards his door.

            The next thing John knew, Grace was walking into his office, her face blotchy from crying.

            “Have a seat.” He gestured to a chair next to his desk, which Grace collapsed into, burying her head in her hands. Her brown hair spilled over her, hanging towards the floor.

            A heavy silence settled over the two figures, Grace hunched over in her chair, John leaning towards her in his, his face full of concern and pity. The bright rays of late afternoon sun spilling into the room suddenly seemed oppressive and out of place to John, reminders of better times long gone. Times when everything was fine, when everything was happy and comfortable, when everything was as it should be in the world. Times that contrasted bitterly with the looming threat of...whatever devastating news Grace was about to pass on to him.

            Finally, Grace straightened up, dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, took a deep breath, and spoke.

            “Pastor John – there's been an accident.”

Chapter One

The Delta Breeze

            The cool Delta Breeze blew up out of San Francisco Bay and over the Sacramento Valley, just as it always did in the early evening, refreshing and renewing the valley after a hot dry summer day. It cooled off a pair of tennis players, drenched with sweat from the hot Sacramento sun, then blew onward, rippling the waters of the American River, and slowing the progress of a group of people on an nflatable raft. It ruffled the feathers of a chicken, blew a flimsy sign advertising fresh strawberries over onto its side, and sent a wave of cold through a rattlesnake sunbathing on a hot rock.

            Still running its course, it blew in through Delaney Downey’s window, flapping the edge of an Iron Man 2 poster. Delaney, a tall fourteen year old girl with long, black curly hair, was stretched out on her bed in the spacious room that she shared with her little sister Chloe. It had been a low-key day for her - she'd spent her time playing video games online, practicing for her upcoming swim meet, and occasionally checking in on her sisters – just to make sure they stayed out of trouble.

            But now it was closer to six, and the Ryans were due to arrive in an hour or two. Delaney thought back to the time when, in the spring of that year, the construction workers had arrived to build a small apartment connected to one side of the family's large house; it had ended up occupying most of the side yard. Delaney and her three sisters had helped make it as nice as possible for the Ryans, who needed a place to stay. And today, they were finally arriving. There were three of them, and, from what Delaney had heard, one was a boy about her own age.

            She laughed quietly to herself. She and Savannah would be having some fun tonight.

*     *     *

            Delaney stood up and stretched, then walked around the dividing wall into her sister Savannah's room. This room was much like the one that she and Chloe shared, but it was smaller, and every inch of wall space was covered with posters of athletes, bands, movies, animals, and scripture verses.

            She walked over to Savannah's dresser, which displayed her trophies from the many swim meets she had starred in over the years. Delaney had a few to boast of herself, too, but Savannah was by far the family champion. Plus, Delaney's trophies usually ended up being the hidden treasures in Chloe's games, and sometimes they stayed hidden for quite a long time.

            Pulling the top drawer open, Delaney grabbed a black t-shirt from among the jumbled clothes. Savannah would need it when she got out of the pool.

            She walked out of the bedroom, continuing down the short hallway until she came to the family's computer room. This was a large room, serving a variety of purposes depending on the the time of year. During the school year, Delaney's mother taught her high school English classes online, and Delaney, Savannah, and Katelyn attended similar classes on all sorts of different subjects. Delaney and her sisters had been homeschooled their whole lives, something they had grown to love.

            But now it was summer, and the computer room had become a cross between an entertainment center and a mad scientist's laboratory – organized chaos, like much of the Downeys' house.

            Delaney walked downstairs to the foyer, where Snickerdoodle, the family's big yellow labrador retriever, was snoozing in a patch of sunlight, his tail twitching occasionally.

            “Come on, boy!” Delaney scolded, “You're supposed to sleep in the laundry room, not right where everyone walks!”

            Snickerdoodle responded by rolling over onto his back, hoping for a belly rub.

            “No, you need to get up and move it!”

            Snickerdoodle, paying Delaney no mind whatsoever, yawned and rolled back onto his side again.

            “Oh forget it.”

            Delaney turned her back on the sleeping dog. Savannah had a knack for talking to the dog, but she herself was hopeless.

            She walked into the kitchen, where she found her 10-year-old sister Katelyn, sitting on a stool at the central island, staring dreamily into space. Katelyn was short for her age, and had wavy golden-brown hair. Her shy brown eyes looked out at the world from behind pink wide-frame glasses. She was wearing a green cloak over her t-shirt and skirt , and was talking quietly to herself, in a soft, dramatic voice:

            “Spray flies in all directions

            Clouds are rumbling, as though they are speaking

            Writhing and wriggling, tossing ships as if they were toys.

           

            Gulls screech and fly away frenzied,

            Wind whips the shore as the clouds grow louder,

            Writhing and wriggling, tossing ships as if they were...”

            “So,” said Delaney, interrupting, “Have the Ryans called since I last checked?”

            “Wha...What?” Katelyn, startled, jolted out of her daydream, gave a small jump and frantically scrambled to reconnect with reality. “Oh, right, the Ryans...the Ryans...I have, I think...yes, I have.” Katelyn often seemed to be living in the fantasy realms that she created, resulting in her usual scatterbrained absent-mindedness in the real world.

            “So what time are they coming?”

            “They're about twenty-five minutes away from here right now, I think. Something like that. Did you like my poem?”

            “It was pretty good. What's it called?”

            “Tempest - I got the idea while we were fighting over the pool raft yesterday.” Fighting over the family's blue pool raft was one of the Downey girls' favorite swimming pool pastimes.

            “So....is there going to be more of it?”

            “Well I haven't really figured out where to go from there – do you think I should have it end up being more of a tragedy, or should it have an uplifting ending?”

            “I think I'll leave that for you to decide, I need to go find Savannah – oh, by the way, do you have any idea where Chloe's at?”

            “I think she's building a fort out of the couch cushions in the den. It might be a castle, I don't know...I helped her rebuild it after Snickerdoodle wrecked the first one.”

            Delaney chuckled to herself – this was Chloe being her typical, playful, adorable, and troublesome self.

            “So, mind meeting me in my room in a couple minutes?”

            “Uh...what for?”

            “Stuff.”

            “Delaney – don't be ambiguous.” Ambiguous was one of Katelyn's new favorite words.

            “You'll find out soon enough. Anyway, I'm off to find Savannah.”

            “Okay, see you in a little then.” 

            Katelyn resumed writing in her notebook, and Delaney walked through the kitchen and sunroom and out onto the patio. The clay tiles, hot from being in the direct sun for several hours, scorched Delaney's bare feet, and she scampered lightly across them until she came to the edge of the pool, where she sat down, soaking her toes in the cool water.

            The Downey's large pool was situated at the edge of a tall bluff that provided a view over the American River valley. On the far side of the pool, a deck was suspended  over the steep hillside. The family's spacious three-story house sat behind the pool and seemed to tower above it. Looking out over the valley, a viewer could discern a couple of prominent cell phone towers and a tall Mariott hotel poking up through the densly packed trees on the opposite ridge. On clear days, the Downey children were able to see the ghostly outline of Mt. Diablo seventy miles away.

            Savannah was, as usual, swimming laps back and forth across the family's pool. She was doing the freestyle, her best stroke, which she'd been perfecting since she was small. She'd been perfecting a lot of things, actually - for as long as Delaney could remember, Savannah had been in constant motion. It could've been anything from tapping her foot impatiently to running up and down the stairs repeatedly, but Savannah Downey was always moving. If Newton had been alive in the twenty-first century, that would've been his fourth law of motion.

            Because Savannah could never stay still, she had developed an interest in sports from a young age. She was now a star member of the swim, track, and volleyball teams that both she and Delaney were a part of. Delaney was a good athlete herself, but when it came down to it Savannah was the family champion.

            As Delaney watched, Savannah continued to swiftly move back and forth across the pool, her arms and legs churning the water, the bright blue of her one-piece swimsuit blending nicely with the darker blue of the water, and her dark curls streaming out behind her...

            Delaney knew these was something wrong with this picture.

            “Savannah!”

            Savannah surfaced, clinging to the edge of the deep end.

            “Savannah, where the heck did your swim cap disappear to?”

            Savannah scrunched up her face, trying to recall. “Well...I think I put it...hmm...well, honestly, I'm not exactly sure where. It's around the house somewhere.”

            Delaney groaned – why were her sisters always losing things?

            “Look for it later –  right now you need to come inside, the Ryans are coming in about 25 minutes, and we need to talk some things over before they arrive.”

            “Why?”

            “Well we don't want to talk about them after they get here, do we?”

            “Fine. I'll get out.” Savannah swam over to the side of the pool, climbed up the steps on the shallow end, and emerged, dripping wet, onto the patio. She grabbed a towel, then turned to face Delaney.

            Delaney had grown used to situations like this. Still, though, looking at Savannah full in the face was eerily like looking at her own reflection. The two girls shared just about everything – green eyes, dark curls carefully cut to the exact same length, a tall, thin build, and even certain freckles. They weren't just identical twins, they were exact copies of each other. And over the years, they had shared more than just appearance – they shared friends, activities, secrets, everything.

            “So,” Delaney said, “I brought you your t-shirt.”

            “I already have one,” Savannah objected.

            “But remember...the plan?”

            “Oh, riiiiight. Thanks, sis.” Savannah gave Delaney a sly grin, grabbed the t-shirt, and walked over to the little brown poolhouse to change out of her swimsuit. Her mission accomplished, Delaney walked back into the house, where Katelyn was still at the kitchen table, now scribbling in her notebook. She grabbed a dark chocolate bar out of the cupboard, then walked up to Katelyn, trying to peek at what she was working on. Delaney only caught a quick glimpse of Katelyn's messy cursive before Katelyn slammed the notebook shut.

            “Forsooth!” Katelyn exclaimed in a fake British accent. “Thou art not to behold the works of Lady Katelyn of the house of Downey until the set hour hath arrivethed!” She dropped the accent. “Or is it arriv'd? Arriveth'd? Or maybe it's something else altogether...”

            Delaney shook her head in disbelief. Katelyn's recent delving into Shakespeare had been – well, interesting was one way of putting it.

            She decided she might as well fight fire with fire.

            “I am extremely sorry,” Delaney responded in an equally bad British accent, “But I do not possess any degree of knowledge to that regard. Anyway, my good lady, Savannah's getting changethed, she shall be ready for our meeting in a minute or two. You might as well come with me, we're commencing with our meeting in a minute.”

            “Aye, I shall accompany thee over hill and over dale to the sacred gathering place.”

            Delaney, confused by her own Shakespearean English, switched to her personal favorite alternate voice - the bad German accent. “Ah need yoo to come vith mee now!” She pointed her half-eaten chocolate bar at Katelyn menacingly. “Yoo must come or ELSE!”

            “Alas,” Katelyn moaned, “I have been seized by my ruthless oppressors, never again to see my dear homeland and even dearer loved ones ever again.” Katelyn allowed herself to be led out of the kitchen, past Snickerdoodle, who was still out cold, and up the stairs to the second floor.

            Here Delaney stopped in front of den, a small room opposite the computer room, which doubled as a playroom for Chloe, and as a guest bedroom. Delaney decided to poke her head in to see what was going on.

            It was a disaster.

            Cushions were piled up everywhere except on the little couch, the bed was covered with dolls and stuffed animals - as was the floor - and Chloe was nowhere in sight.

            “Chloe – I know you're in there!”

            “No I'm not.” This was a small voice coming from beneath a pile of blankets in one corner.

            “If you're not there than how come you're talking?”

            “I don't know.”

            “Chloe, we need to talk about some important things. We're having a meeting, and we want you to join us.”

            The idea of a meeting seemed to intrigue Chloe, so she climbed out from under her pile of blankets and, stumbling over the myriad stuffed animals on the floor, made it to the door.

            Chloe was the littlest of the four Downey girls. She was six, and she held her older sisters in the utmost esteem. She had black hair like Delaney and Savannah and brown eyes like Katelyn, but the similarities ended there. Her hair was short and straight, rather than long curly, and it reached only to the base of her neck. Her skin was darker than her sisters, and her eyes were almond-shaped. She was also very small for her age.

            “Delaney, look!” she said, grabbing a little blue notebook off the floor and waving it in the air excitedly. “Katelyn bought this for me when we went to the grocery store with daddy! Now I can write and draw things in it just like she does!”

            Katelyn smiled, glad to be a good influence on her creative little sister. Ever since she was adopted from China as a toddler, Chloe had actively tried to keep up with her older sisters. She had, over the years, learned to swim like Savannah, to play Minecraft like Delaney, and, most recently, how to do art projects like Katelyn.

            “Look! I drew Snickerdoodle!” Chloe proudly held up her notebook again, this time open to a lopsided drawing of something that, with a bit of imagination, could pass for something sort of like a dog.

            “Very nice,” said Delaney, carefully admiring Chloe's picture.

            “You're showing signs of real talent,” Katelyn added.

            “And then I drew you and Katelyn and Savannah and me.” She turned the page to show a couple of stick figures, one much smaller than the others, all smiling.

            “That's...” Delaney began, but she was interrupted by a loud thumping noise, which turned out to be Savannah sprinting up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

            She froze at the top, poised to spring. Delaney, brandishing her chocolate bar menacingly, jumped into an identical position facing her.

            The two glared at each other, both ready to pounce.

            Katelyn groaned. “Why do you two have to do that?”

            “Because we feel like it.” Savannah straightened up and joined the little group in the hallway.

            “Anyway,” said Delaney, also standing up again, “Let's go to my room and talk over some stuff before the Ryans get here.”

            Delaney led her sisters down the little hallway and back into Delaney's alcove, where Savannah collapsed noisily onto Delaney's bed. Chloe sat down on her own little bed opposite Delaney's, and Katelyn squeezed in next to her. Left without a place to sit, Delaney stood, leaning against the window that overlooked the parkway.

            “So,” Delaney began, assuming a dignified, authorative tone, “We're all here to discuss some last-minute thoughts regarding the new arrivals. I know this is kind of short-notice, but there are some things we need to be caught up on before they arrive. First of all, our primary goal is to make them feel at home – being warm and inviting, and inviting them to join in the stuff we do.”

            “Like playing castle in the den?”

            “Maybe, Chloe. We'll see if they'd like that.”

            “So,” said Savannah, “Remind me again – how old are the two boys?”

            “I think the older one's about our age, the younger one's something like Chloe's. Anyway,” she turned to Katelyn, “Katie, I wanted to mention something to you...”

            There was no response from Katelyn, who was staring, mesmerized, at Delaney and Chloe's tropical fish tank, mouthing something about someone being “lost forever in the watery depths.”

            Savannah laughed. “You can tell Katelyn's tuned out when she doesn't object to being called Katie.”

            This got through to Katelyn, who shook herself abruptly. “Sorry...sorry...sorry...what were you saying, Delaney?”

            Delaney laughed. “I was going to say – try not to space out around the Ryans, if you can help it.”

            Katelyn looked slightly embarrassed. “Sorry – I'll try, but I can't really help myself sometimes.”

            “That's okay,” Delaney responded, “Just try your best. And you don't have to talk with them a ton, leave that up to Savannah and I...”

            “Savannah and me,” Savannah interjected.

            “I'm pretty sure it's Savannah and I,” Delaney retorted. “And anyway, stop being the grammar Nazi around here.” Delaney had been telling her sister this for years, in the hope that it would get through to her sooner or later.

            “Bet ya a dollar that it's 'Savannah and me'.”

            “Fine, I'll take you up on that if you'll be quiet.” Delaney raised her voice slightly. “Anyway, other items of order – Chloe, you remember what mommy and I told you about manners?”

            “Yes!” Chloe responded, excited to show the newcomers that she was very grown up for her age.

            “Okay, good – Now as for the two of us...” she turned to face Savannah, “We'll just do what we always do.”

            “Right.” Savannah smiled mischievously.

            “Anyway,” Delaney continued, “Does anyone have any questions?”

            “I have one.”

            “What Savannah?”

            “Are you going to be eating the rest of that chocolate bar anytime soon? Because if not I'd be happy to take it off your hands.”

            Delaney looked down at the half eaten chocolate bar that she was still holding, now starting to feel slightly soft.

            “Oh...right...that thing.” Delaney laughed, then crammed the rest of it into her mouth.

            “So much for that.” Savannah  “You know when dinner's going to be? I'm starving.”

            “Pretty soon,” Delaney replied, “Whenever the Ryans get here.”

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Caleb B. is a home schooled high school student, musician, and novel writer. He is currently working on completing his novel, currently titled Document8 (for lack of a better title), about a home school family and their friends struck by the sudden tragedy of a daughter's paralysis.