First 5 Pages November Workshop - Harris-Brady Rev 1

Name: Heather Harris-Brady
Genre: (Upper) Middle Grade Speculative Fiction
Title: The Time Between

When you're a girl who's almost thirteen you get used to a whole lot of freaky random "stuff". Stuff that, even if you're not a foster kid, you keep to yourself. This dead deer in my lap is one of those things.

I was about halfway home from school, ready to cross the road by the church, when I heard horns, skidding tires, and a sickening thud. The driver got out and checked the damage, as impatient moms in SUVs waited to turn into the church parking lot. I could see them through their tinted windows tapping their phones with glossy pointed fingernails as the deer jerked in spasms in the ditch.

I ducked my head when I saw a large white Escalade with the face of Peyton Boyce’s dad wrapped around both sides. Watch The Boyce of Reason, every day at 4 pm! Under his picture was his famous signoff, the one he said at the end of every show, every speech, practically every conversation: They’re coming for you, let’s stand together.

She was just another carcass to all of them, an inconvenience if they noticed her at all. Someone needed to care and something about it stabbed the dark untouched area of my heart, the spot I only know is there by the way it changes the parts around it.

Her eyes, a glossy brown like mine, reflected my face back at me. We'd both been going somewhere, alone. I didn't know what to do so I sat down here with her, holding her head in my lap and stroking her long tan face with its delicate black nose and curling eyelashes.

Every now and then I got a whiff of the apples on the tree across the road, rich sweet and thick. It was an old twisted tree with branches every which way. A bit of stone fence ran along underneath it, as ancient as the tree and well on its way to becoming sand once again. It wandered off back toward the busy part of Sudham, with its tall brick storefronts slicing off toward the ocean.

I've never had a pet, not even a belly-up goldfish to flush down the toilet, and I wasn't sure what to do but she seemed glad I was there. Maybe I imagined that part, but it might be true, who knows. Finally, with a sigh and a shudder, her head dropped to the side and she went limp across my legs.

As I stood up, stiff and cold from the ground, a tingle ran from the roots of my hair all down to the ends of my toes. I saw two fawns, twins, watching me from deeper in the woods. Since it was late in October they were plenty big enough to take care of themselves. They needed to stay away from the road, so I picked the last of the apples and threw them into the trees. Then I walked toward them to scare them away.

But they didn't run. They stood there, waiting. I took some baby carrots out of my lunch sack and went past them. When I turned around they were there at my elbows, nudging my hand.

“Listen you two,” I said, holding out a couple carrots for each of them. “You're going to have to take care of each other now. Stay back in here and away from the road.”

They twitched their ears and their long white tails, checking for more carrots. Somehow the whole thing made me feel guilty and ashamed even though I hadn't done anything.

When I got back to the road a green truck pulled with Save Our Wildlife on the doors. A man in a matching green uniform climbed down and seemed to be checking the deer for signs of life. He scowled as he looked up and down the road, then he put the deer's body in the back.

For some reason I can't explain I stayed in the shrubs, even though I was so close I could smell his thick cologne as it tickled my nose. He got back in the truck, slamming the door behind him and took off.

At home I found a wrapped box propped against the front door, with fancy ribbons on both the top and the bottom. A nice touch because I could peek without being obvious, you know? The conservation guy's cologne must have still been sticking in my nose because I got another whiff of it as I picked up the box.

Just as I was about to open it I heard the voices of Sudham High's most perfect couple, my star quarterback brother Lin and his cheerleading captain girlfriend Kallie, through the open window. I could hear Kallie really well, but Lin mumbles.

"...sometimes I wonder if you care about me at all," Kallie said. "You know how much I love you, right?"

I had to fight the urge to gag right there under the window. If you ask me, Lin deserves better. Like, WAY better.

"C'mon Linny," she said with a coo. "Just say it for me once."

Time to come to the rescue.

I burst through the door, dropped my stuff in the hall, and grabbed a few cookies on my way to the living room. I found Kallie and Lin curled up on the couch, so I plopped down in front of them and turned on a cartoon.

Lin patted me on the head.

"How was school today short stuff?"

I handed him one of my sugar cookies and watched him take a big bite.

"Well, I learned one of the ingredients in vanilla can come from a beaver's butt," I said. "They call it 'natural flavoring.'"

He laughed, spewing crumbs all over me and the couch both. Kallie gave us a disgusted look and slid over to the other side.

"Can you give me a ride home now?" she said. "I've got a ton of homework tonight."

"Later," Lin said, finishing off the cookie on his way out the door.

Mission accomplished.

I went to get my package from the hallway. On top of the tissue was a card: Have a magical birthday - Dad. Underneath was an honest-to-God magic wand. JUST like Harry Potter's. For real. Well, it was a wand anyway and duh, who would buy a regular wand? That would be the worst gift of all time.

Now my dad's been gone forever, since the day I was born really. I know, without anyone telling me, that if he showed up he wouldn't be welcome. No big teary love-fests here. So I stuck the wand in my backpack and stashed the box behind the summer clothes in my closet. When I looked for the box after dinner it was gone.

Poof.

Like it never was.

The wand was still in my backpack though - the backpack of a girl who hasn't had a good yearbook photo since second grade, on the eve of picture day.

I snuck into the bathroom and waved it around my general face area. I had no idea what words might turn bushy black hair and braces into something magically beautiful.

Whatever I said obviously wasn't the right choice, because nothing happened. At least not right away.

Overnight my hair twisted itself into dreads so tight I couldn't get a comb through it. And, yes, there were several new zits on my nose.