The Future Is Now!

The following was definitely some sort of class assignment to, I don't know, come up with an ad? Because I had Don Draper for a teacher? Not too sure. What I do remember is thinking that if this product existed, it would be the COOLEST. THING. EVER. Fast-forward 20-some years, and... well, see for yourself.

What exactly is a Watch-a-call, you ask? And is Pepsi going to sue me for trademark infringement? Well the answer—to the first question, anyway—lies in the advertising copy:

Watch-a-call

It's a watch with a phone inside!

No extra for long distance calls!

$99.89 Just $50.00!

So, okay, I know it sounds like a cell phone, but check it out. It looks like a Swatch!

Admit it, cell phones would be cooler if you could get your name on them.

And if you're thinking to yourself, "Okay, smartypants, where do I DIAL?" well then you clearly have yet to encounter the back view of the Watch-a-call:

The world's most sloppily drawn keypad.

I actually imagined this would be some super-secret 10-year-old spy shit. Here's how it would go down:

Watch-a-call in action!

On one side of the lightning bolt, you and your side pony would be sitting at your desk in your invisible chair that kinda makes you look like a paraplegic. And you'd be like, "Hey, this lesson on multiplication tables BLOWS! I wonder what my friend with the newscaster hair is up to right now?" BAM! On the other side of the lightning bolt, your questionably bewigged friend with the World's Longest Torso would receive your call as a series of super-loud BEEPs that would surely get your Watch-a-call confiscated until the end of the day. Brilliant!

Joking aside, it's kind of amazing that this product almost exists now—I mean, a cell phone is pretty much a phone with a watch inside, making it, like, um... a Call-a-watch? And it even has free long distance, which seemed like CRAZY wishful thinking at the time. Granted, a cell phone's not all incognito like the Watch-a-call, but I'm guessing that holding your wristwatch up to your ear repeatedly would probably blow your cover anyway.

NEXT TIME: More pictures tellin' some stories. (That's code for "I haven't picked out which one I'm going to use yet.")

Gossip Central

Fifth grade was the year I got really into reading YA series. I had started a few in fourth grade, and by fifth grade I was completely hooked. The queen of them all, of course, was The Baby-sitters Club—but its throne was actually a director's chair and it wore a visor instead of a crown. Ann M. Martin really tried to offer a little something for everyone: fashionistas, artists, tomboys, introverts, dancers, bookworms, health-food nuts, the learning disabled, diabetics, crybabies, catty beeyotches... There was surely one character you could relate to (e.g., Mary Anne: short, shy, overly sensitive, cried at the drop of a hat—most likely one of Claudia's many fedoras), and possibly an entirely different character you yearned to be like (e.g., Dawn: purportedly didn't care what anyone thought of her, was from California).

Gossip Central, although not a series, is definitely the first of my stories to show the obvious influence of the BSC. For one, it's about a club. With five female members (Mal and Jessi probably hadn't joined up yet) who look really different, but tend to sound exactly the same.

Of course, while the BSC formed their club around the wholesome act of caring for other people's children, my gals' club is dedicated to digging up dirt on their classmates. At times, illegally.

G*O*S*S*I*P C*E*N*T*R*A*L

I'm really into the asterisks in this one. G*E*T U*S*E*D T*O I*T.

"Up higher." instructed Andrea, using her hand to sheild her gorgeous green eyes from the sun.

"Lower." demanded Denise, pushing her thick, black bangs out of her face.

"Left." insisted Sabrina, pointing a long skinny finger in that direction.

"Right." Tracy squeaked. When everyone turned and stared at her she blushed and softly said, "I think."

"Ugh." I muttered.

The Gossip Central Club couldn't decide where to hang the sign on our clubhouse. U*N*B*E*L*I*E*V*A*B*L*E. We usually agree on everything. My dad was having a heck of a time trying to follow everyones commands.

"Dad," I called. "Hang it where you want."

For a moment or two, everything was quiet.

"Thank you, Kim." said Dad. "Now, run along, girls."

"Yeah," agreed Denise. "Let's go to the mall and grab some gossip."

Gossip at the mall? In 1988? That's like shooting fish in a barrel!

"YEAH." We all shouted. Everyone made a dash for my back door and the five of us grabbed our "gossip bags".

Not to be confused with Kid-Kits.

"Gossip bags" are purses filled with gossip equipment: A cassette player, blank or re-usable tapes, pens and pencils, a special pen with special "invisible ink", a 5-way walkie-talkie that my dad made for us, binoculars, dark glasses, a notebook, emergency numbers, and a sheet of "phone bugs".

Holy God! Are they going to the mall or on a stakeout mission? Way to keep it discreet, girls. Recording devices? Walkie-talkies? Frigging binoculars? Yep, I'm sure no one's going to notice that in the middle of the food court. And what's up with the emergency numbers? Is that in the (likely) event that their cover gets blown? No amount of invisible ink can help you then!

Oh, but wait—what are these mysterious "phone bugs" you speak of, Kim?

"Phone bugs" are something I made using my dad's equipment. First, let me tell you something, my dad is an electrician. I'm going to be an electrician when I grow up..... or an inventor, if that's what they're called. I'm not sure..... anyway, back to "phone bugs". "Phone bugs" are round and they look like this:


only bigger.

Can you believe how precise and technical that drawing is? You've got an amazing career ahead of you as an electrician/inventor/whatever they're called, Kim! I can feel it!

This is how they work:

#1. Stick "phone bug" on any phone.
#2. Pick up phone (hook, receiver, whatever) If at pay-phone, put in 25¢.
#3. wait. If phone rings, hang up.

If the phone doesn't ring, guess what? You'll be listening to someone else's conversation. And it works.

That's right, you guys, another electronics lover. In case you're wondering, my dad owned a diner and I had absolutely zero electrical know-how. Although you probably guessed that from the nonchalance with which my characters wire clubhouses and tap phones from afar.

The "phone bug" (the quotes seem to be an official part of their name) is something that I thought would be AWESOME. I was a bit insecure and always wondered what other people thought of me. However, if I'd had enough electronics love to miraculously invent such a device, I'm sure that listening in on my classmates' conversations would have resulted in nothing but misery. Well, that or extreme boredom.

"Let's go." shouted Sabrina.

Well, I guess it's only fair for me to tell you about my friends and fellow members of the Gossip Central Club.

...And welcome to the "Chapter Two" portion of our story.

#1. Denise Locker. Denise is actually rather pretty but, if you told her she'd simply reply, "Nonsense."

Yeah, she's 10. Going on 60.

She has straight black hair that is about shoulder-length. She has gray eyes and a pale complection. Denise moved here about a year ago and is very determined.

#2. Andrea Dolinger. Andrea is really strange, once you think about it. She has sand-colored hair and the most gorgeous eyes you've ever seen: aqua-green. She immediately became friends with Denise, who looks a little strange. She, Denise, and I are about average height. Andrea has an ear for gossip.

Wait, I thought Denise was pretty. Pretty weird-looking?

#3. Tracy Tackman. Tracy isn't your average girl. She has short dark brown curls and dark brown eyes. She's short, shy, and easily embarrassed. But listen to this: Tracy loves to read mysteries, and she solves them before the detectives in the book do. She's great. She and I have been best friends forever.

I love how Tracy's claim to fame is solving fictional mysteries. Perhaps she should think about relocating to Cabot Cove.

#4. Sabrina Long. Sabrina has long, reddish hair that just about reaches her waist. And glossy blue eyes that are almost as gorgeous as Andrea's. She's just about the opposite of Tracy, loud, bossy, gets what she wants, and she's big. Tall, I mean. She always knows what's going on first. Sabrina and I have known each other for a while, we live on the same street.

But there's no description of Kim! Fortunately, we have this illustration. Please note that she dots her i's with hearts. Of course she does.

I'm pretty sure I owned that exact outfit (and that it came from T.J. Maxx): a black sweater with purple polka dots and a matching black sweater-skirt. Man, they would make anything out of a sweater in 1988! However, my side pony was nowhere near as impressive as Kim's.

When we got to the mall we went our seperate ways. I got my notebook out and got busy. I wrote:


Thanks again, Ann M. Martin, for making me realize the integral role of notebook entries in exhibiting your extremely different characters' extremely different handwriting. I've scanned these in so you can fully appreciate the lengths I went to in order to give each character's handwriting its own personality. But I'll save you the squinting by transcribing the notes too:

August 28, 1988 #1. Jenni Stopner and Karla Philips were trying on bra's at the lingerie department, "LUXURY"! #2. Steve Philips was making goo-goo eyes at Linda Best, the high-schooler! #3. Barbara Nelson was looking at men's underwear, I mean fingering it!

This mall has completely awesome store names. On a sidenote, what 10-year-old girl fingers men's underwear? Especially when there are people with dark glasses and notebooks watching?

A*N*D*R*E*A*'*S P*A*G*E: Andrea wants to tell you about what happened to her at the mall.

Like in a BSC Super Special, the other club members get to put in their two cents.

I got into the booth and put a quarter in the pay-phone. I pulled out my cassette player, which I knew had a tape in it. I stuck a "phone bug" on and carefully dialed Stacy McKay's number. This was my first time using a phone bug and I wondered if they really worked.

Believe me, they work. Without "phone bugs," this story is nothing.

I was in luck. But the voice I heard wasn't Stacy's. It was Donna Worthington's.

"So," said Donna in a sugary voice. "Do you want to go to the movies with us?"

"Yeah," said Stacy, in a voice just as sweet. "Are you? Please come. Please. Pretty please with sugar on top and honey, too."

The voice on the other end cleared it's throat. "Well, I guess that would be..... okay." I almost dropped the phone and do you know why? That voice belonged to Scott Harris, the boy Denise has had a crush on for ages.

Not only does Andrea have an ear for gossip, she also has an ear for identifying voices. That's no small feat! It's hard even to discern that a prepubescent boy is male over the phone. My poor brother was mistaken for our mother for YEARS.

"Great my mom will pick you up at 12:30 on Saturday." Stacy gushed.

"Don't forget," cooed Donna. "Roger Rabbit, Oz Theater, 1:00."

It is, of course, completely unnecessary for her to repeat this information since Stacy's mom will be picking Scott up, but okay...

"See you then." replied Scott.

"Bye, Scott."

"Thanks, Donna." I muttered. Looks like the club is going to see Roger Rabbit..... plus Stacy, Scott, and Donna. I took off the bug and left to meet the rest of the club. My time was up.

Next we have the rest of the club's notebooks entries. Go ahead and click if you'd like to see my chameleon-like writing abilities, but I'll transcribe below.


N*O*T*E*B*O*O*K P*A*G*E: This page is everyone's notebook entries for August 28, 1988.

Sabrina's Notebook: 8-28-88
I stopped at "Burger's" and heard this:
Cindy Lane was telling a bunch of girls that she goes steady with Bobby Ellsworth! [Did I say it was 1988? Excuse me, I meant 1968.]
(Listen to my "Gossip Tape #3")

Yeah, she totally busted out the cassette player at "Burger's." Slick! And yes, I said Burger's, which implies that the restaurant is actually owned by a hamburger.

Denise's Notebook: August 28, 1988
#1. Barbara Nelson was running around screaming out the lyrics to "Monkey" and doing "The Monkey"!
#2. Justin Harlin was looking in Audrey Farell's dressing room at "Luxury", while she tried on a bra!

Okay, fingering men's underpants and then singing George Michael songs at top volume in the mall? Accompanied by embarrassing dance moves? Barbara Nelson is either starved for attention or has some sort of substance abuse problem.

Also, "Luxury" is clearly staffed by a bunch of apathetic high school students.

Tracy's Notebook: 8/28/88
I looked around and saw about 10 girls following Drew Stevenson, who was with Kathy Simons! (They don't have a chance)

Tracy, that's the best you could come up with? Didn't Barbara Nelson fellate a corn dog on a stick or something? Yeesh.

Andrea's Notebook:
I "phone bugged" Stacy McKay. I found out about her and Donna Worthington going to the movies with Scott Harris!
(Listen to my "Gossip Tape #1")

The Gossip Central clubmates are rather liberal with their quotation marks usage, "aren't they"? Also, I like how all the gossip is punctuated with an exclamation point because it's so! exciting!

When we all got to our meeting place at the mall, we didn't say what had happened to us. We said "hi" and we walked outside together and hopped on our bikes. We got to my house and compared notes.

I like how THIS is when they choose to be discreet. Not when they were taking notes and tape-recording conversations at the mall.

"Drew Stevenson." I said softly. I've had a crush on him since second grade (we're going into fifth). Kathy Simon is a girl in our grade but only the stuck-up kids hang around her (besides Drew). She's also overdeveloped youknow. Very.

Because we all know that boobs make you instantly evil.

And then there's Drew, one word: adorable ADORABLE A*D*O*R*A*B*L*E. I think he's the cutest boy I know.

Her attraction to Drew obviously runs very deep.

"Scott Harris." moaned Denise. I couldn't believe it that Scott would actually do that.

Going to the movies = a mortal sin.

Denise has a mondo crush on him and, to make things worst, Stacy McKay is her worst enemy. They hate each other. H*A*T*E.

"Well," Andrea said brightly. "Has anyone seen Roger Rabbit yet?"

* * * * *

"I don't feel right about this." Tracy told me as she pulled up her sock.

"Don't worry." Sabrina called over her shoulder.

"Yeah." agreed Andrea. "It's for a good cause."

"Yep." agreed Denise through clenched teeth. Her hands formed fists at her side. "To get even with that brat.... Stacy McKay and her fat little sidekick, Hefty Donna."

Tracy blushed. "Watch what you say." I hissed into Denise's ear. Luckily, Tracy was too busy being embarrassed to notice why I was giving Denise 'the look'.

If you've seen the pictures, you should realize I would have made a toothpick look hefty. However, I beg you to consider the millimeter of progress I've made with my treatment of supposedly overweight characters:
1) The protagonist's BFF is chubby, and
2) This was (surprisingly, I'll admit) not mentioned in her initial description!

Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

"All right." Sabrina announced in her usual-loud tone. We had just approached Oz Theater. The reason for its name is simple. The first movie played there was, you got it, The Wizard Of Oz. Oz Theater is really a beautiful theater- in one part they show movies, in another they hold plays and concerts- past the doorman (yes, it's so fancy there's a doorman) are cardboard Oz characters- Dorothy, Toto(in her basket), Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion, 2 munchkins, Glinda the good witch of the North or South [I could never keep that straight], and finally, The Wicked Witch of the West.

This theater has absolutely no basis in reality. A doorman? Ritzy.

We got drinks, popcorn(except Andrea who's got braces), and candy. Except for Tracy who said, "i'lljusthaveadietcokethanksanyway."

Nooooo! Don't feel bad, Tracy! Remember, Denise is funny-looking!

We sat down in the back row, waiting for Stacy, Scott, and Donna.

I'll admit, we got fidgety. All of us except Tracy. Tracy was too busy sucking in her cheeks and stomach and hiding her stubby legs under her skirt. Sabrina was buckling and unbuckling her sandals, I was checking my watch every 5 seconds, Andrea was picking at her braces and humming Wait. But Denise was plotting revenge.

D*E*N*I*S*E*'*S P*A*G*E: Denise would like to tell you about what we did, in her own words, at Oz Theater.

R*E*V*E*N*G*E. But Kim was wrong. W$R$O$N$G.

Whoa! Way to switch it up!

I was trying to plot revenge while at the same time pick the wad of gum from under my seat. I had no good ideas.

That goes double for me as the author.

That's when they came. Donna was walking in front, swaying her hips from side to side. She took up so much room that Stacey and Scott had to walk behind her.

Have you noticed that hip swaying seems to be a detestable character action in my novels?

Stacy was swinging her hips too. [See? SEE?] She kept bumping into Scott(purposely)until, finally, she banged against his side so hard that he dropped the popcorn and half of it spilled on the floor.

Andrea giggled. She started laughing(silently)so hard that Kim and I had to pat her on the back so she wouldn't choke on the sip of 7 up she had just taken. Some things that really aren't very funny strike Andrea as hilarious.

I actually found that pretty funny myself. That must mean I'm a big weirdo like Andrea! However, choking in the middle (er, back row) of the theater is probably not the best way to remain incognito.

Big Donna, Screwy Stacy, and Sweet Scott sat down in the middle of the theater so we all got up and moved down so that we were in the row behind them but so that we weren't directly in back of them. They were on the end and we were more in the middle of the row behind them.

Subtle.

The conversation was boring. They talked about school, oh I hope I get so-and-so for a teacher, and stuff like that. Stacey kept giggling when it wasn't funny. The best part was when Stacy spilled her pop on Donna. What a bore.

But I liked the movie.

And that's it! So much for the crazy revenge plots. I hope Denise was at least able to unstick the wad of gum from under her seat. I'll bet she was—she's very determined.

I think my favorite thing about this one is how they seem to have the club purely for the love of gossip. Because seriously, what are they doing with all of those gossip tapes and invisible-ink-penned notes? I know Denise said she wanted revenge, but I'm not buying it. I think they just want to be in the know so that later they can head to the clubhouse and secretly talk some mondo smack about everyone.

Gossip Girl would be appalled.

NEXT TIME: This book may have been only eight pages long, but that didn't stop me from writing a sequel! Or, you know, the beginning of one.

We Can Live Without Boys... Can't We?, part 4

LAST TIME: Hooker day came and went in a blaze of scantily clad glory. Maggie was sweatin' new-hottie-in-town Brian, but it turned out that he was IN THE LOVE with her friend and fellow boy-disdaining clubmate Kelly—which was, of course, revealed via an extremely realistic love note. Kelly returned Brian's affections and decided that, in spite of Maggie's feelings and the entire concept of the We Can Live Without Boys club, she had to follow her heart and "go with him." Maggie became sick to her stomach.

My stomach just got worse and worse. At home my dad gave me a quiz on the state capitals. I started barfing. Once I started I couldn't stop. How can love be so cruel? Maybe I'll die of a broken heart. I felt sick.

Broken heart? I'd say dehydration is more likely.

"How's that babe in your class?" Cassie asked.
"Dumb. He likes Kelly."
"I thought Kelly was your friend."
"Was. She's gonna go with Brian."
"Who's Brian?"
"The babe."
"Sorry, Magsums." said Cassie and she left.

I had the 24-hour-flu. Oh, barf. And barf I did. The 24-hour-flu is a dumb name for it. I mean it lasts a lot longer than 24 hours.

Er, probably not the 24-hour flu then. Just sayin'.

"Hi, Maggie." said Sherry, bringing in my homework. "Kelly is feeling really bad, you know."
"I'll bet Brian isn't." I said, sadly.
"Now Maggie, you can't jump to conclusions. Maybe he likes you."

What? Sherry, just stop. Please. For all of us.

"If he liked me he would have written me a note."
"Ok you have a point. Just try to be friends with Kelly."

Sherry left me feeling miserable. Should I be friends with Kelly or not? I was mad at Brian. Even madder at Kelly. She was there when I said he looked better than Kirk Cameron. Then she had to go with him. I thought we could live without boys, anyway.

You guys, she said he looked better than Kirk Cameron! Than KIRK CAMERON! Does this mean nothing to those bitches? Unbelievable! On the other hand, she has had, oh, ZERO interaction with Bri-Bri. She was in love with him and now she's mad at him, and by my count they have yet to exchange a single word.

Thursday was my first day back at school. We were eating blueberry muffins. I didn't eat any, remembering Halloween. Hilda didn't even ask why. She just eyed me suspiciously. Dad probably told her not to give me a hard time. That darn dad.

At the bus stop Sherry told me that Mitzi caught Emmy in the bathroom smoking a cigarette. I smiled and clapped appreciatively.

It's too bad the club wasn't there to serenade her!

Emmy was babbling away at Sherry who was staring into space. Some audience. Marsha was running back and forth from her desk to Daphne's. Daphne was staring at Brian but he was staring at Kelly. Kelly was glancing back and forth between me and Brian. I stared at my desk top.

"Welcome back, Maggie." said Mrs. Melnick "We missed you."
"Right." I mumbled.
"What did you say, Maggie?"
"I said 'Thanks."
"Oh." said Mrs. Melnick doubtfully.

At lunch Sam and Sherry were eating with Kelly still. I hesitated. Sherry spotted me. She pointed to the seat next to her. Darn, Trapped.

"Brian said he loved me yesterday over the phone. It was kind of embarassing because my stepmom was eavesdropping." Kelly blushed as Brian walked over.

Gee, Kelly, why don't you rub a gallon of salt in Maggie's wound? I mean, I know her anger is completely unjustified due to the whole never-having-actually-spoken-to-Brian factor, but still. Is it so difficult to refrain from talking about how much he luuuuurves you? Speaking of which, did anyone ever witness a 10-year-old boy profess his love over the phone? A show of hands, please.

"Hello, beautiful women." said Brian. "Maggie, glad to see you back."
"Brian do you mind. We're having a private discussion." said Sam, making her eyes wide.
"Sorry, ladies. Didn't mean to barge in." he apologized.
"Isn't he sweet?" said Kelly after Brian left.

Sweet? I'd say he's awfully smarmy for a fourth grader.

"Maggie we've decided to change the club name to, WE CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT BOYS. Are you in favor?" Sam told me, happy.
"Sure." I said.
"Maggie, can we still be friends?" Kelly asked me.
"I guess." I said.
"Oh, Maggie, that's great. Thanx a bunch." cried Kelly.

I don't think that "I guess" deserves such an enthusiastic response, Kel.

I was still a bit mad at Kelly. Brian was everything. Smart, sweet, cute, and charming. PERFECT. And Kelly got him. Kelly, who used to be such a tomboy until she met us. Now I wished we'd never met her. I still liked her some, though. A part of me would always like her and a part of me would always hate her.

Fourth grade is frigging rough, guys.

Maybe I should go back to Timmy.

Sherry liking Drake again. Maybe it would end up Me-Timmy, Sherry-Drake, Kelly-Brian, Sam. What about Sam? Oh well.

That was how I summed up page 12, and I remember I had a bit of writer's block after that. What would be the next twist of plot in my exciting tale? I took a break to get the ol' creative juices flowing again, and eventually returned with the following (now double-spaced!).

"I am really fed up." yelled Cassie at the top of her lungs. She stormed out of the room which was fine with me. She'd left her magazine in there anyway and that's what she'd been screaming about.

I sat down, satisfied, and opened the magazine. 'Modern Screen'. OK. Posters: Kirk Cameron...... oh, who am I kidding, I asked myself. I was just mad.... at Brian mostly. Brian, the Mummy Dummy, I thought.

The MUMMY DUMMY? What does that even mean? That might be up there with "report-on-Maine stealer."

Oh, forget it. I want to run away. Get away from all the confusion. Everyone says running away never helps. I didn't believe them.

It's like I had a Wheel o' Plot Devices, and once again the arrow landed on RUNNING AWAY.

I went upstairs and packed my bags. No one understands me, I thought sadly. They probably won't even notice I'm gone. A tear landed on my nightgown. This is painful.

I poked my head around the kitchen door. Good, no one was in there. I checked the cupboards carefully. My cup from the circus, an apple, some crackers, cookies, and the most important my Halloween candy.

Note to self: Most important survival food: Halloween candy.

I almost forgot. I'll need something to drink. I grabbed 5 Hi-C lemonade drink boxes. That should cover it.

I ran up the stairs with my bulging bag of food. I quickly pulled a blanket off my bed and snatched a pillow. Money. I'll need money. I shook the money out of my piggy bank and stuffed it into my purse. I bunched my food, clothes, sleeping stuff, pocket-sized photo album, cassette player radio, and some tapes into the biggest suitcase I could find. Old, gray with dirt, and ratty of course. It also smelled like my sister's shampoo. SICK. But, everything fit in it ok, so that was that.

I love that she brings a photo album and freaking cassette tapes.

On t.v. kids write their families a letter before they leave telling them why. I wanted to be original. I scribbled a short note to Sherry, though.

It said:

Sherry-
I am leaving because no one understands me, except for you. Life isn't fair and you know why. By the time you read this I hope to be out of the state. -Maggie (your pal)

Out of the state! I love it! Where's she planning on going? Pennsylvania?

I shoved the note into my pocket and picked up the large suitcase. Heavy. Too heavy. Nah. I tried again. Then I realized I forgot my purse. I ran back into my room and slung it over my shoulder. I made it down the stairs. Bump, step, bump, step. Thank god no one heard me.

I ran over to Sherry's and slid the note through the mailbox. Sherry ran out as I was trying to pick up the suitcase. She studied the note and squealed, "Can I come?"

I thought it over. "Yes." I finally answered. Sherry grinned.

"Great." she said. "Wait a second." Sherry dashed into the house and came out with a brown paper bag. "Clothes, food, money, flashlight, blanket, pillow, radio, tapes, batteries. You know."

I nodded. "Got an extra pair of shoes." I asked. I was amazed that Sherry could do that so quickly.

An extra pair of shoes! I had clearly given running away a LOT of thought.

Sherry clapped her hand over her mouth. "No. Wait just one more moment." I didn't have to wait. Sherry was back in a flash. "Where're we goin'?" she asked me.
I shrugged. How should I know, anyway.

Uh, maybe because you're the one running away! And what about the leaving-the-state plan? Get on the ball, Maggie!

"Let's go catch a bus. I know just the place." Sherry's eyes twinkled. She's got ideas, I thought. "On second thought, let's walk. It's not that far and busses cost money. Let me make a call inside. Hold on."

Sherry came out after a minute. She smiled. "Let's go." she cheerfully announced.

After a while we got there. I thought it was just a tree.

This is where the suspension of disbelief comes in. Are you guys ready? Take a few deep breaths. Here we go...

Sherry showed me the small hole. I got in first. Sherry gave me the suitcase and bag. She climbed in and shut a little door. She flipped on a light switch. We were on some stairs.

"Come on" said Sherry as she led me down them. Soon I saw a small door. Sherry fished a key out of her pocket and opened it. Inside I saw Sam and Kelly. They were sitting at a table in the middle of the room. Cards. Fish.

"This is what we've been doing after school when you never wanted to come." said Sam walking away from the table.

Uh, when was that? They rigged up a crazy inside-a-tree/underground hideout while she had the 24-hour flu?

When I first reread this I tried to reason that it could be a bomb shelter or other preexisting structure that they've turned into clubhouse, but the more I read it the more I cannot deny that a) it is somehow or other inside a tree and b) we are led to believe that they MADE IT THEMSELVES.

This is probably the time to tell you that I was a wee bit obsessed with underground homes as an elementary schooler. I used to draw picture upon picture of imagined subterranean dwellings. Generally each room in the house was a separate hole, with ladders leading from room to room. The floors were lined with straw (there was usually a separate room designated for straw storage), and the bathroom contained plumbing that led to a nearby water source. Seriously, I drew that in. I suppose it was only a matter of time before I wrote an underground lair into one of my stories.

"Yep." said Kelly. "Lookit." She pulled up a string from the floor. It was a door. I climbed down a ladder. We were in a bedroom. There were four beds-mattresses. One was bare-mine. One was pink with a Kirk Cameron poster over it and an Apple. Also there was a pamphlet that said California on it-Sam's. One bed was messy. A blue blanket was thrown over it. A paper saying 'I hate my cousin' and a photograph of Brian-Kelly's. Sherry's had a Patrick Swayze poster over it. It was purple with a math packet laying on it. There was an open book on it, too. A stuffed dog lay on the pillow.

These bed descriptions really drive home the fact that each character only has one or two defining interests. (The "I hate my cousin" paper? Priceless!) Although who knew Sherry was crazy for Swayze?

Kelly pointed to the empty bed. "You can put your stuff there. Look." She pushed a white sheet out of the way and we walked in. "The bathroom." she said. There was a toilet and a small tub.

They can install a bathtub, but they can't be assed to put up a simple door?

Then we came back up. They showed me the stove, sink, emergency exit [safety first!], phone, refridgerator, cupboards, and food.

"It's on my property." said Sam. She quickly added, "My folks don't know we did this, though."
"She rigged up the thing with the phone, heat, and running water." Kelly told me.
Sam shrugged. "I love electronics." she said.

What, you guys? She loves electronics! It's totally believable now.

"I thought you wanted to be a vet." I said.
"Nah. Just a cover up. I thought you wouldn't like me then."
"Are you kidding. I think it's cool."
"Really? Well, that's great. Welcome." Sam smiled warmly.

I made my bed. Mom and dad would never find me. They were away for the weekend anyway. Hilda wouldn't care, would she?

"Nope." said Kelly. She grinned. I blushed. I was thinking aloud again. Oooops.

No, I'm sure the housekeeper won't mind if one of the kids disappears on her watch. Whatever, there are four more at home.

Sam made coffee and doughnuts for dinner. Mmmmmmmm. Ahhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhh.

Pop 'n Fresh Dough? Or did she just have a doughnut-gasm?

Best dinner I ever had.

I fell asleep easily. The bed was so comfortable.

I had a weird dream. We all lived in this little house. Good.

When I woke up I was still in the little bedroom. It hadn't been a dream. I was the only one in the bedroom, though. Sleepily, I climbed up the ladder and opened the door.

Sherry was sprawled across the rug, obviously into the book she was reading. Kelly was sitting on the couch watching cartoons. Sam was cooking breakfast. Pancakes. Yummy.

"Good morning, sleepy head." Sam grinned at me before turning back to her food. "Want to help?" she asked.

After breakfast was served, Sherry and Kelly complimented us. I decided I loved making breakfast.

"I told Brian I'd call him last night." Kelly said suddenly.
"Well, go ahead. There aren't any rules about using the phone. If there are, please inform me." Sam answered.
"No. You got me. I was just feeling weird about sleeping under a tree." said Kelly, shrugging.
"Me too." Sherry called from the bathroom.
"These walls are like paper." cried Sam, shaking her head.
"Nope. They're like wood." I said.
Sam laughed. "Maggie," she shouted between giggles "You are such a te- so weird." Sam stopped herself just in time.

So are they under a tree or, like, IN a tree? Why do I bother trying to make sense of this?

"Shhh." said Kelly. "I'm on the phone. Hello. Is Brian there? Yes this is.... WHAT? He is.... 1879 Fairmount St. Luke's.... Yes... Ok... uh... tell him I called... if you can. All right. Ok. 'Bye." Kelly hung up and started to cry.

What in God's name happened to Brian? Give the Plot Device Roulette wheel a spin, and you might be able to figure it out!

NEXT TIME: The thrilling (okay, rushed) conclusion.