1st 5 Pages Feb Workshop - Fettig Rev 2

Name: Becky Fettig
Genre: Middle Grade Fantasy
Title: Halo and the Boomerang Effect


Pitch:

Halo isn’t your typical twelve-year-old. She throws a wicked boomerang, can change clothes with a wave of her hand, and get this—she lives inside a Christmas tree with the rest of the quarter-inch-tall Treeples.

Tiny Halo always looks for ways to emulate her gigantic human creator, Mrs. Johnson, who at nine-years-old, protected her family by keeping her parents together (stopped the D word). And great crackling chestnuts! On the first day of this season, the Treeples’ king and queen proclaims a royal tournament will commence. Winning prizes: prince and princess titles. Finally, Halo sees her chance to be a really BIG protector. But holy icicles…a bullying new girl, Scarletta, covets the crown and Halo’s crush.

Then the Treeples learn Mr. Johnson lied to his wife, and chaos strikes when she dies a week later. Devastated, Mr. Johnson declares he’ll never celebrate another Christmas (no more tree = no more Treeples). Halo discovers she can invoke a miracle that will transfer her friends to another tree. BUT. This requires Halo tricking her crush into ruling alongside frosty Scarletta (cue evil cackle) AND Halo staying behind, waving goodbye…as she fades away. Forever. 


Revision:

When landing inside a Christmas tree, stay away from spiky pine needles. Halo rubbed the backside of her gown. Despite being smaller than a snowflake, she was painfully aware of that lesson.

Halo crossed her fingers and glanced through the white pine. Ornaments as familiar as the fingers on her hands hung on every branch. Nearby, a tin soldier saluted a plump snowman. Above, a reindeer reared on his back legs beside the gingerbread boy with blue icing buttons.

And great, golly, good cheer, the old twelve-point star topped the tree.

“Yes!” Halo punched the air. The pine needle under her boots shifted, tipping her backward. But a quick arm flapping recovered her balance.

Outside the tree, a brick fireplace covered one wall of the ginormous room. And right smack in the middle of the mantelpiece stood a photo of Charles and Eloise, the humans who unknowingly create tiny people. For the twelfth time Halo was home, zapped back inside the Christmas tree at 1414 Winslow Drive. She held a hand over her heart. “I pledge to protect my fellow Treeples.”

As soon as she lowered her arm, a red blur whooshed past, narrowly missing her ear. Halo yanked a boomerang from her pocket and spun around. She enjoyed a game of catch as much as anyone. But since her back faced the pitcher, this toss was very unsportsmanlike.

“Lob another one.” Halo swung the boomerang like a baseball bat. “This time I’ll smack it back.”

She tapped the stick against her palm and waited for someone to jump out from their hiding spot. Near the middle of the branch a ballerina ornament swayed, as though someone leaned against it.

“Mystery person, show yourself.”

Nothing.

Holy burnt brownies. Unfriendliness wouldn’t do. Time to meet this puzzling Treeple.

Halo bounced off the pine needle, onto the branch, and sped along the tree limb. Once she neared the ballerina, she pivoted into a perfect cartwheel. But her foot slipped on a mushy glob, and she fell on her back. Heat beat a path across her face as she pushed her gown down over her legs. She threw her arms up, acting as if she meant to land like an upside-down turtle. “Ta da!”

No response. The space around the ballerina was empty.

A fruity smell floated in the air. Halo tugged her shoe across her leg. Sticky juice oozed from a Treeple-sized strawberry crushed on the sole.

The fruit flinger must’ve been ready to throw again until Halo scared him off, dropping the strawberry as he ran away. But who’d be so careless to throw food and leave slippery pieces along the branch? Halo could’ve fallen off the tree. Or been speared by a pine needle.

Halo stuffed the berry inside a pouch. The mysterious Treeple might be planning another attack, but she’d make sure no one inside Loblolly Pines got hurt. Halo knew the best places to hide.

She waved a hand across the front of her body. Glittery stars swirled about. Her gown morphed into green leggings, an emerald-colored vest, and a shirt-dress the color of a pickle. A sturdy belt wrapped her waist, equipped with red eyeglasses connected to a long stick and a sheath for the boomerang. Her white hair spun and twirled, forming two long braids.

Red and white striped boots replaced buckled shoes as Halo vaulted to her feet. She tucked a heart-shaped locket inside her shirt and barreled toward a candy cane nestled between two pinecones.

Vacant.

Snap. Up and to the right, a tinsel string quivered. Halo froze like a snowman. Was she close to the berry pitcher?

A nearby rustle kicked up pine scents. A crunch echoed to the left. She darted in that direction and ran smack into her best buddy hanging upside-down from an upper branch.

“Boo!” Leon pointed his fingers. “Gotcha.”

Halo pushed his hands away from her face. “How’d you find me so quick?”

“Those bells on your goofy boots.”

“Awww…sprinkledink. I forgot to silence them.”

“Plus your drab Robin Hood outfit is easy to spot.”

“Beats your puke-green leprechaun suit.” She brushed glitter off her vest and hid her smile. Their first-day clothing jokes always tickled her bones. But she had no time for fun. “Did you see someone—”

Leon swung and somersaulted in the air, landing beside her. With a sweeping wave, his clothes changed into his favorite white peasant shirt and tan suede pants. He glanced behind her.

“Wow. You gained weight.” He pointed at a silver ball ornament.

“What?” She grasped the stick on the eyeglasses, held them against her eyes, and leaned close to the mirrored surface. The ball’s curvature distorted her reflection, making her appear short and wide. “Very funny.”

“Fooled you.” Leon grinned, showing off his adorable dimple.

He studied her face, nodding as if he had found the answer to a riddle. “Something is different, though.”

“Not falling for that one again.” Halo removed the pouch containing the smashed strawberry from her belt.

Leon was still staring.

“Did I grow an extra eye?” she asked.

“Our eleven-month sleep in the void did you good. You look great, Angel Girl.”

She loved it when he called her that, but his other words were wacky weird.

Leon also looked different this year. Gold highlights now streaked his chocolate-brown curls. His face was thinner, more muscular, which emphasized his perfect nose. And holy ancient pine trees, he stood three heads taller!

“Stop joking.” Halo shook the sack. “We need to talk before the introductions start.”

“Cool your icicles. Everyone’s still moving to the base.” Leon created a rag and polished the mirrored ornament with circular strokes.

As if on cue, six Treeples shimmied down the trunk. Two men, three women, and one child waved and continued their downward hike.

Leon snapped the rag. “Told you.”

“We have a serious safety issue in the tree.” Halo tossed the pouch. “Look inside.”

He tugged the draw-strings open and lifted the strawberry by its stem. “A fruit is a serious safety issue?” Leon shook the sticky mess. “Take this monster berry away from me. I’m scared.”

“But listen. Seconds after I landed someone threw a strawberry at my head. Then I slipped on that one, which was scary because I could’ve fallen off the tree.” She didn’t mention her unladylike tumble.

“I saw a child carrying a basket of fruit. He probably dropped one.” Leon waved. The strawberry and bag vanished.

Halo placed her fists on her hips. “But it flew horizontally, not vertically. You do know the difference, right?”

Leon raised one arm alongside his head while holding his other arm out from his side. He winked.

“But a berry can’t fall and fly at my head at the same time.”

“As the self-titled Protectress of Loblolly Pines.” Leon bowed. “Do you want to search for another dangerous berry?”

Clothing jokes were one thing but making fun of her chosen job cut deep. She grasped her locket, fighting back the urge to show the note tucked inside—the real reason she had pledged to protect for twelve seasons. But a secret needed to remain a secret.

“Sorry,” Leon said. “I over joked, didn’t I? You’re the best protector in this tree, the greatest Treeple in the whole universe.”

She smiled. Other than the job comments, their friendship resembled a frozen pond on a sub-zero day—solid. “You’re forgiven.”

Leon spun the ornament. “Perfect. Ready to fly?”

Halo grabbed a garland and dove off the branch.