Looking for a Story

If I had known being Earth Quaker's favourite reporter would make me the target of so many kidnappings, I would have never flirted back with him. I don’t even know his identity and yet they keep taking me. My boss is getting fed up. And honestly? So am I . I miss the days when I could drive my car to work; these days I have to ride my bike to work, and even then I still have to look over my shoulder constantly. Just as I round the corner my bike is encased in sludge. “Oh no.” I wince. It’s Swamp Sleeper, my least favourite villain. He’s a literal trash monster. I believe he had been a janitor at a science lab; he’d been the unfortunate victim of the wrong place, wrong time. “Oh yes, Kitty Carter. And this time, Earth Quaker won’t save you.” Before I can even run, I feel the cold, slimy vines from his trashmobile, wrapping around me and pulling me into the trunk. “Not again!” I cry out as the trunk slams shut. The stench is awful, and I feel my new dress is stained. Worst of all, I have to listen to Mr. Sleeper singing over the speakers, which is a fate worse than death. Eventually, the car slows and I know we have arrived where Sleeper thinks the battle will take place. The trunk opens and Sleeper looks down at me with a nasty grin. “Ah, Miss Kitty! I’m so grateful you could join me today!” “Like I had a choice!” I snap back as he picks me up. I try to wiggle free, but it’s hopeless. He clamps me to a conveyor belt with a freaky trash compactor-looking thing at the end. Sleeper pokes my nose and I can’t help but cringe at his touch. “Ever sarcastic, Miss Kitty. But that attitude won’t help you here.” I say nothing; instead, I look around, trying to find a hiding spot for once I get out of this. I refuse to be a useless damsel; if I can free myself I do, or once Quaker frees me I do my best to get out of the way or even help if I can. The trash yard doesn’t offer many hiding spaces, but some turned-over couches will do in a pinch. Feeling settled with that, I try to figure out what Sleeper's plan is. He’s giddily bouncing between two red buttons on pedestals. That can’t be good. Before I can fully figure out what the plan is, Earth Quaker shows up. “So the hero arrives!” Swamp Sleeper bellows. “But have you come to save your beloved Kitty…?” he points to one button. “...Or your precious city?” Sleeper presses the two and suddenly the conveyor belt starts moving and the trash compactor roars to life. “Quake!” I despise the shill in my voice, but I see no way out with him. “Kit!” He rushes toward me. Only for a pile of trash to flow in front of him. “Not so fast here,” Sleeper snarls. “The only way to save her is to push this button.” A pile of trash lifts one of the buttons high above us. “But stop her demise and blow up the city. But save the city and the clamps will release Kitty to…well, her end.” Sleeper’s maniacal laughter fills the trash yard and he takes off in his trashmobile. The trash pile blocking my view of Earth Quaker falls. “Kitty…” his face is soft. “No.” I watch his eyes looking at the high button. “Quake, you can’t. I’m not worth the city.” He puts on his charming smile. “But I can’t lose my best girl.” “Enough! Quaker I’m not your best girl! I’m your target! I miss work, I get a new wardrobe every month. I have to stop driving my car to work because of the risks! I can’t even get a date! I wanted to be a reporter, not your damsel!” I feel my body shaking, and I can’t tell if the heat is from my anger or the trash compactor. Quaker freezes, the shock etched on his face. “I never thought of it that way. I’ll figure something out.” He looks around. “For the record, I don’t view you as a damsel, I feel like you are a teammate.” Before I can answer his face lights up. “I’ve got it! “ He races to the button for the city; one hand rests over it, and the other starts to lift to the ground. I look at him, and we nod. He hits the button and I feel myself plummet, but before I hit the fire, I hit a rock that Quaker has shot out under me. I leap off the rock and race along the rock toward the couches. Quaker glances back at me, gives me a small wave, and takes off to stop Swamp Sleeper. After he disappears into the horizon, I can’t help but notice that I’m sitting in a puddle. Not just any puddle but one that is glowing green. “I don’t think I’ll be a damsel any longer.”

Little Jenny slides down the banister to find balloons and a present on the kitchen counter. “Happy Birthday!” her parents cheer. “Thank you!” She gives them each a hug. They guide her to the table where her mom places a stack of pancakes in front of her with a candle on top. “Go ahead, baby, make a wish!” Jenny’s eyes go wide. “I get two wishes today?” Her dad laughs loudly. “Sure thing, Sport!” Jenny closes her eyes and whispers, “I wish I could ride a dragon.” *** Solomon opens his eyes. “Here you are, my boy! Your own dragon!” His dad beams with pride. Solomon looks at his dad. “We can afford two dragons?” His dad squeezes his shoulder. “Do you think I’m ready?” Solomon slowly approaches his dragon, who lowers its head to let Solomon pet his nose. “I’d say so. Come on, let's go for a ride.” The two saddle their dragons; Solomon is surprised by how well his dragon listens to him. His Dad approaches on his dragon. “I knew she was meant for you. She doesn't have a name yet - that will be all up to you. Ya ready?” Solomon gets up in the saddle. “I hope so.” Together they take to the sky. “Yahoo!” Solomon cheers as they fly through the air. His dragon takes off ahead of his dad’s older dragon as if to challenge them to the race. “Oh, it’s a race, my boy?” His dad playfully taunts, taking off at a speed the younger dragon can’t maintain. In trying to keep up, Solomon accidentally does some spins. He feels more alive than he ever has before. He and the dragon gracefully land next to his dad on a cliff. “Woah, that looked like a whirlwind of a ride!” his dad teases and helps him out of the saddle. “That’s her name! Whirlwind.” Solomon strokes her nose. “Think I could be a trick rider?” His dad looks down. “I'm sure you could if I could afford to not have you working. But I need your help-” Solomon puts a hand on his dad's shoulder. “So, we’ll work for it.” His dad hands him a stone. “It’s your birthday. Whisper your wish and send it away, and we’ll see if it comes true.” Solomon knows this is childish but he does it anyway. He cups the stone in his hands and whispers. “I wish that Dad and I could be rich.” He closes his eyes and tosses the stone. *** Vicki stretches as the room fills with light. “Good morning, Princess.” Her lady-in-waiting bows. “Your parents left you a letter.” With a flick of Vicki’s wrist, the letter floats towards her. She opens it. Happy Birthday, Victoria. So sorry but your Father and I needed a break from court. So we’ve taken your brother and will be back in a few days; then we will give you a proper party. We will not forget this year, I promise! Do not worry about kingdom affairs; your father's advisers will handle everything. Do not forget to practise your magic, my little enchantress. Your parents. Vicki crumples the letter and incinerates it with a flick of her wrists. “Was that really necessary, princess?” Her lady-in-waiting suppresses a giggle. “You know they both hated that I was a girl, and they go away every year on my birthday and never remember to celebrate it. If I hadn’t had magic powers they’d never bother to see me.” Her lady doesn’t argue. Vicki gets out of bed, and with a snap of her fingers she is ready for the day. “I will never understand why they hired me. You don’t need a lady-in-waiting.” “So I don’t run away,” Vicki says plainly. “They know I’d never leave at the risk of you getting hurt.” Her lady smiles. “You would cast a spell so they can’t hurt me, or send me somewhere they’d never find me.” “Once I’m strong enough. I won’t be the enchantress locked in a tower until they can marry her off to make things easier for the son they wanted.” Vicki knows she’s bitter, but what else could she do? “I’d like to be alone.” Her lady hesitates. “But it’s your birth-” “Don’t remind me!” Vicki cuts her off. She then composes herself. “Sorry. Please leave me alone for now. I need to be in good spirits for the party tonight.” Her lady winks. “Party? There is no party.” She slips out of the room as Vicki heads to her balcony and sits on the railing. She flicks her wrist and a chocolate cupcake appears in her hand. “Good thing Mother is not here.” As she enjoys her breakfast, she looks at her hands. “Someday, I’ll be strong enough that, when I clap my hands, you’ll take me to a place where I am wanted and my wish to be loved will come true.” She closes her eyes to dream. *** Axel blinks as he enters the neon streets. He walks through the streets as everyone speeds by, talking on their microchips. He watches as the circuit board glows beneath his feet, powering the city and everyone around him. In a world of circuit boards and tech, he ducks into a small alleyway and the hum of the city dies down. As he walks, the neon lights fade and the homes slowly get less and less techy. Where he lives, you have to get up to turn off the lights. The circuit boards turn into broken pavement paths and old solar-powered cars sit in driveways, hardly used but still the best options when the bullet train is down. Nature still grows here, not like in the heart of the city. This is where the poor live, and he’ll never move his family out of here. His kids might, but not in his lifetime. He walks into the old house; it’s dark. As the door clicks shut, light fills the room. “Surprise, Daddy!” His kids race toward him and tackle him to the ground. “It’s your brffday!” his youngest beams. “Yes, it is!” He pokes her nose, and she giggles. “We baked you a cake!” His son points to the counter, where a cake sits and his stands wife waiting. “Baked? Babe, that must have cost-” She helps him up and silences him with a kiss. “Real cakes will always be better than that stuff they sell at the bakery.” She rolls her eyes. He smiles; he married the right woman, that is for sure. Wrapped in his arms, she smiles back; she loves the life they have. “Now make a wish so we can get these kids some cake and get them to bed.” Axel looks at the candles and blows them out. “I wish that this feeling never ends.”

Miley could hear the whispers at her reception. Everyone placing bets on how long her marriage will last. Thomas, her now husband, places his hand on her shoulder, “I can’t wait to prove them all wrong.” he whispers into her ear causing her to giggle. “I just wish they believed in us as much as I do.” She turns towards him and buries her face into his chest. He kisses the top of her head. “Alright, enough of listening to this.” He picks her up and carries her out of the room. Everyone hoots and hollers, Miley blushes and hides her face in his shoulder. Once they are in the getaway car, “Always so dramatic.” she chuckles. “Only for you, my wallflower.” He leans over and kisses her. Weeks after the wedding, when they are unpacked, “So now that we have the house set up - can we host a dinner party?” Thomas asks while Miley cleans the dishes. “You really want to, don’t you?” She stops washing and gives him her full attention. “Nothing huge, just a few other couples, some pizza and some games?” He looks at her so sweetly. “You have to help with the setup and the clean up. You know how tiring I find those parties.” She glances around the house. “I know babe, and I promise I will help and if you need to check out early I will back you.” He steps toward her and tilts her head to look up at him, “Always.” She blushes, “You’re so smooth.” She covers her burning cheeks. “Only for you.” He winks. “I’ll even make the pizza from scratch for our friends.” She pokes his nose and returns to the dishes. Soon the day of the party arrives. Miley makes the pizza, Thomas picks up the pop and sets out the games. “Looks amazing babe.” He chuckles and pulls her in close, “Oh! And the pizza looks great too.” “Thomas!” She lets out a squeal then the doorbell rings. “Go get the door, smooth talker.” She shoos him away, while she pulls herself together. Soon the house is full of conversation and laughter. “Miley you sure are an amazing cook” Harvey comments. “Yeah! You got lucky there Tommy, cute and can cook.” Nacey, Harvey's wife teases. “The luckiest.” Thomas catches her hand and kisses it. She blushes, excuses herself to the kitchen, and quickly cuts up that chocolate cake she made earlier. She hears snippets of the conversation happening at the table. “I’m surprised she let you host a get-together like this. She’s such a homebody. I didn’t think we’d ever see you again after you tied the knot.” Joseph sounds like he is trying to make a joke, but the table goes silent. “Dude. We hosted together. We did the work together. She is my wife. I chose her just like she chose me. Sure I like to go out more than she does. But I love her. Don’t belittle her.” Thomas is firm but still kind. Miley feels like she should save him, “I made cake!” she walks in holding the freshly cut cake and acts like she heard nothing. The party resumes and fun is had by all. Shortly after everyone leaves, “Hey why don’t you go rinse off, I’ll clean up down here.” Thomas offers, “You look like you could use a minute or two alone.” “Thanks love.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. His words keep replaying over and over in her mind. He had defended her to their friends, she loves this man. She steps out of the bathroom, and he isn’t in the bedroom, she walks downstairs and finds him sitting on the couch, “I thought we could watch something before bed?” “Is this for me or you?” Miley teases as she sits down. “Maybe both?” he pulls her in close. “I’m still feeling riled up, and a movie and a little cuddling might just be enough to help me sleep.” “I think I can handle that.” She pulls a blanket over them. The movie has barely made it to the end of Act One before he dozes off. She pauses the movie and traces the ring on his finger, “I heard you today, you know.” She waits, but he doesn’t react. “You defended me to our friends. I appreciate that a lot. I knew you would, but it was nice to hear.” He sleepily pulls her close, “Always.” “Come on, sleepy head, let's climb up the stairs.” She gently pulls him from the couch. A few months later, while Miley is getting ready to host her book club, her phone rings, “Hey love, ready for book club?” she smiles at hearing Thomas's voice. “I think so! You’re good with coming home late?” Miley finishes moving the last of the furniture around. “Yep! I won’t disturb the peace.” he snickers. Miley rolls her eyes, “Thank you love.” He hangs up the phone, just as her first guest shows up. Book club runs late, and she and the girls are giggling and having fun, “Hey ladies.” Thomas enters the house, strolls up to Miley and kisses her, “I’ll just grab a snack and hide upstairs.” Miley blushes and nods, I’ll try not to be too long.” She watches him head to the kitchen. Her book club shares looks and tries not to laugh. “I still can’t believe you married a man like that,” Val says between unsuccessfully hidden laughs. “What do you mean?” Miley looks at Val. “He’s so…” Val gestures at all of Miley, “Not like you. He’s just so out there. And you so… not.” she chuckles. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? Or an insult? Because I love that man. He’s wonderful. He’s wonderful. He’s helped me come out of my shell.” Miley looks firmly at Val. Harper gets them back on track and they wrap up rather quickly. Miley gathers up the dishes and heads to the kitchen, where Thomas meets her, “You didn’t go upstairs.” She can only think to say as he takes the stack of dishes away from her. “I was going to, then I heard my wife defending me. And it was very sweet.” He starts washing the dishes. “Think it will ever stop?” Miley leans against the counter. “What will?” Thomas looks over at her. “People questioning why we got together.” She looks back at him. “I mean maybe? People will always wonder why we picked each other, But I kinda like defending you and hearing you defend me.” He splashes the dish water on her. She grabs his hand, “Yeah, I guess it’s not so bad.”

I remember the day he brought me home from the store. He talked about the new story he was preparing to write. And I was going to be the home for all the ideas for this new world…. He sets me down on his desk and pulls out a brand-new pen. He sits down and stares at my cover for a while. “I’m really doing this…” He runs his hand over the texture of my cover. He slowly opens my cover and stares at my first page. He lifts the pen a few times but never lets the ink touch my pages. After an eternity, he closes my cover and lifts me onto a shelf above his desk, with several other books. “I’ll start tomorrow.” He flips on his computer and loads up a game. After a while, he leaves the office and the room goes dark. “Good luck, kid,” a sketchbook nearby snickers. “He goes through hobbies like crazy. I have one drawing in here. One!” “He wrote three journal entries in me before he quit,” another notebook on the shelf points out. “Well, maybe I’ll be different,” I huff. Although…deep down I worry - what if they are right? The next day he pulls me off the shelf and puts me in his backpack. It’s dark; I get jostled around. I’m not a fan, but I hope this trip will lead to words on the pages. When the bag opens and the darkness is chased away by the light, I feel creative energy flow into the space. I hear the clinking of cups and the murmurs of idle chatter. “Jackson! You're here early!” Someone greets him from the counter. “Yeah, I got a notebook to write down that story I was telling you about last shift.” He sets me down on a table. “Sick, man! Your usual?” the coworker calls from behind the coffee machine. “That would be great!” Jackson pulls out the same pen from last night and once again stares at my cover. He opens my cover slightly faster than the night before. He stares at my first page again, clicking the pen a few times, but never touches the page. He stares out the window instead. His coworker drops off the coffee, they chat for a bit, and then his coworker returns to work. Jackson once again stares back at the page and looks back to the window. He lets everything distract him - coffee shop regulars, cars outside, everything and anything is more interesting than my pages. His coworker comes by again. “Dude, have you put ink on paper yet?” “No, I just want it to be perfect,” Jackson sighs. “Isn’t that the point of brainstorming? To get everything on paper?” The coworker leans on the table. “Well yeah, but I don’t want to waste any pages!” Jackson shifts in his seat. Suddenly the table tilts and I slide off to the floor. The coffee cup is also gliding. Before anyone can do anything, the table is on its side, there is a loud crash and I am drenched in coffee. “Woah!” The coworker leaps back. “You good, man?” Jackson pushed his chair back. “I think so.” He looks around. “I’ll get the mop!” Jackson carefully picks me up and brushes off the pieces of broken mug. He shakes his head and lets out a long, low breath. “Maybe it’s a sign that I’m not meant to be a writer.” Is he going to give up after two days of trying? Maybe the other books were right. He can’t commit. “Lay it out in the sun, might be worth saving for another project,” his coworker suggests. I am plopped on the window sill. I can’t help but feel defeated. As my pages dry they also become stained. I feel like my very life is being drained from me. The sun sets and Jackson grabs me and tosses me in his bag. He chucks the bag on the ground when he gets home. I wonder if my cover is bent. I don’t know how long he keeps me in his bag. But I get new stains from melting candy and spilt water. Then one day, a bunch of clothes get tossed into the bag and I hear him greet someone I don’t recognize. “Your room is this way, little brother. Cece is so glad you could come to visit!” “Me too! It’s been a minute. Glad my days off worked out.” I think he tosses his bag on the bed. I think he’s forgotten about me. A bit later he pulls his clothes out of the bag and plops it on the floor. The room is quiet; I’m not sure if it’s nighttime or he’s just left the room. I have no sense of time anymore. Suddenly the bag is opened and a small hand reaches in. It removes me from the prison that the bag has become. “Woah! This looks like a pirate book!” A little girl's voice giggles as she flips through the pages. “There isn’t a story in here! I should fix that!” She grips me tightly in her little hands and races out of the room. “Uncle Jac Jac! Can I have this notebook I found in your bag?” She pauses as she runs by the kitchen. “Cece, you shouldn’t go through people's bags! It’s rude,” Cece’s mother reprimands. “It’s fine, Sis. Honestly, I forgot it was even in there. So go ahead, kid.” He smiles at Cece and she takes off running. “I can’t believe you taught her to call me Uncle Jac Jac,” I hear him say as she leaves the room. Cece takes me to her room, plops me on her desk and pulls out all kinds of coloured pencils and a box of regular pencils. And she writes on my pages! Over the weekend she spends hours filling my pages with her pirate story. Her writing isn’t pretty and it’s way too big for my lines, but she has a good idea. She even adds pictures. At the end of the weekend, as Jackson is getting ready to leave, she comes running with me in her hands. “Uncle Jac Jac! Here!” She trips and I go flying in the air. Somehow Jackson catches me, and Cece’s mom catches her. “Woah! Easy there, kid.” Jackson looks down at the label stuck on my cover. “Jac Jac and Cece’s great pirate adventure? What’s this, kiddo?” “I wrote you a pirate story for your pirate book!” She beams between deep breaths. Jackson flips through my pages. “Woah… You did this over the weekend?” She nods. “Yea, it was easy.” She shrugs. “When you’re not worried about perfection you get a lot further, brother,” his sister teases. “Yeah… Maybe.” He kneels down. “Thank you, Cece; this is a great gift. You know what? I think I have time to sit and read it with you before I leave.” The two of them sit on the couch and read Cece’s silly little story. When he heads home, he sets me in his passenger seat, talking to himself the whole way home. He talks about the story he had wanted to write. And all the other hobbies he had left behind. When we reach his home, he walks towards the bookshelf and he slides me into a place between some other well-loved books. After a beat, he pulls me off the shelf again, brings me back to his office, and sets me next to his computer. “Alright no notebook this time, I’m just gonna start jotting my ideas down here.” For the next few months, I watched him create the world he’d been dreaming about. And the day he finished his first draft, I’d never been so proud.

I’ve worked at this Library for well over a decade now and, while I have many stories I could share for its twenty-fifth-anniversary celebration, this one is my favourite. Our story starts shortly after I got my job here at this little library…. The school day has just ended and that means there will be a few kids trickling in for my coworker Betty’s afterschool program. I stay near the front, greeting the kids as they come in. Once the program is well underway, I return to my desk to deal with a new shipment of books. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a stack of books appearing at the checkout counter, growing taller by the second. I don’t see anyone, but I walk to the counter and see a girl, just tall enough to see over the counter, unloading one of those large grocery totes full of books. “Well, hello there, friend!” She pauses for a second to look at me before returning to her bag of books. “Looks like you’ve got quite a collection there.” I pick up the scanner. She still says nothing but slides her library card across the counter. I scan her card. Her name is Alice. I start scanning her books. She watches me silently. Do I keep trying to make conversation? “Oh! I used to read some of these when I was about your age.” I smile down at the familiar mystery book. She raises an eyebrow at me and starts packing her books back up. “Do you want a receipt that says when they are all due back?” She nods quickly, and I print it and hand it to her. She smiles, neatly folds the long slip of paper, and tucks it into the front of the book on the top of the pile. She gives me a slight nod and takes off. I hear the doorbell chime and with that, she’s gone. “How interesting,” I say to no one in particular. “She likes you,” my coworker Betty teases as she walks back from her program with a bucket of supplies to put away. “Ya think?” I lean against the counter. “Oh yeah, she scowled at the last clerk we had.” Betty giggles, opening the supply closet. “Oh! Is she always like that?” I start checking in other books. “Sorta…? When she’s here with her family she’s a bit more chatty. But when she comes in without them she says almost nothing. Not sure why. Her brother plays field hockey across the road. She comes over, grabs her books, reads until he’s done, then they walk home together. Sometimes you’ll see them if we close up early.” Betty closes the closet door and shrugs. “She’s just a quiet kid.” I make a point of being at the front on the days I know Alice will be stopping by. I make sure to treat her no differently than any other kid in the library. She brings me notes about the books she wants and can’t find in our library, so I can place holds on them. Over time when they arrive from other libraries I hear a faint “Thank you.” She comes in on her birthday and, like I do for all the regular kids, I’ve bought her a card and a little bookmark. The look on her face when she opens her card is everything. I think it’s the first time I’ve heard her use her full voice. “Thank you for being so kind to me.” She takes her books and scurries off. As she gets older, she keeps coming to the library, and her stacks of books get smaller. The books, however, get longer. She stays and studies or reads until her mom texts her to head home. Her brother has a job now, so no more field hockey for him. Though I don’t think Alice minds much. She waves when she comes in and says goodbye when she leaves. Sometimes she brings me a cookie, which always makes my day better. If it’s slow, I go and sit with her and help her with schoolwork, or I stop by on my rounds and check in on her. As summer approaches, we are given a grant for a summer student to work part-time. The grant is for a high school student. Alice doesn’t have a part-time job yet and she is the right age. One afternoon, while she sits in her spot reading, I slide the application to her. She looks at it and quickly slides it back to me. “Just think about it, okay? It’s helping me stack shelves. You know how crazy the summers get around here. Betty can’t help me as much, so this helps us both get our work done.” I leave the application with her and go back to my desk. When I glance up sometime later, she’s filling it out. It shows up on my desk a few days later. We give her the job. For the next three summers, she works for us. Watching her grow and come out of her shell is such a gift. The first time I hear her laugh out loud, I stop dead in my tracks; it is so contagious. Her grad year is quickly coming to an end. One day, she rushes in holding a letter. “I did it! I’m going to college!” she yells. “Oh, sorry! No yelling, I know.” “I don’t care! I'm so proud of you right now!” I offer her a hug, and she accepts. “You've done so well,” I whisper. “Thanks,” she whispers as she lets go. “I gotta run, but I’ll be back to study tomorrow!” I watch her leave with a bittersweet feeling in my heart. A few weeks later as Alice leaves the library, she slips a card across the counter and leaves before I can open it. I open it once I'm in my car. “Thank you for always giving me a safe space and letting me grow at my own pace. Alice.” Inside is a ticket for her grad. She wants me there. And in all my years of working here, I’ve never felt so valued.

Project Creative Vs Isolation - Notes on Participant 5. Attached you will find a series of journal entries highlighting her unique experience during her time in our experiment. She was in Group A, and this group had limited social interaction, to see if it helped or harmed the creative process. Day 123 The low growl has become almost comforting. Almost. It’s been about 4 months since I signed up for this thing. Who knew being given creative freedom to create anything would be so exhausting? I’ve been working on a novel. I’d been working on it before I started this experiment and, well… It’s not going great. And I think my self-doubt has manifested into a dragon. Yes, a real dragon. I know it sounds crazy… And now I’m arguing with myself in a journal. Maybe this isolation is making me mad… Day 170 Writing is going poorly today. But I remembered the dudes in charge of this crazy thing gave us questions to answer in these journals. I forgot about them, and the dragon in my apartment is rather cumbersome to deal with today. So! Let’s write something easy. Like…. Why did I agree to this? Simple: I claim the reason I can’t finish my novel is because I don’t have time. So when I lost my job and this advertisement showed up on my socials I figured why not take the year to work on my novel? And the free place to live definitely sweetened the deal. And for whatever reason they said yes to me. Thanks dudes. So we will see if the distractions are really the reason I can finish the first draft. He’s watching me… Oh yes, I’ve decided the dragon is a boy and I’ve named him George. I know they say you shouldn’t name strays, otherwise you’ll get attached. But hey, I’m already pretty attached to my self-doubt or imposter syndrome or whatever else you want to call it. Might as well name the silly thing. And you know what? I think he shrunk a bit. I think I’m going to take the rest of the day off. Maybe tomorrow will be easier. Day 215 I officially finished draft one of my novel!!!! I can’t believe it! This is amazing! I feel like I could do anything! Oh, you remember George? Yeah well, no bigger than a puppy today! Take that, Self-Doubt! I can do this! Right? It’s good, right? It’s a good first step. What happens now? I… I don’t know. Step 1: Request a cake to celebrate in some form. Step 2: Find out what on earth I do next. Day 250 I picked up my manuscript for the first time in just over a month. Taking a break and trying my hand at painting. It was nice, and funnily enough George the dragon almost disappeared. I guess it was just fun, no doubt to be had. But I’m also not as passionate about my fine art skills as I am about my storytelling skills. It’s an interesting contrast. Anyway, back to the novel… It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. But George grew in size today. He looked so smug about it too. How annoying. However (and don’t tell him this) he’s a little motivating. Day 289 Just over two months left. Honestly, I’ve got mixed feelings about it. In one way, I’m ready to see my family and friends. Texting and the occasional phone call and video chat aren’t the same as being in the same room. I feel like I mention that it’s not like we haven’t seen anyone in the last nine months. I went for walks and ordered food and things like that. Oh, and they brought our families a few times (maybe some of the others saw friends too, but I wouldn’t know). For the record, Scientist Dudes, I did my best work for a few days after they came to visit. Back to the notes! I will miss the time to just sit down and focus on my creative passion like this. I’m also worried George will leave me… I know I complained about him before but honestly? He’s grown on me. He’s a great gauge of how loud my self-doubt is. Maybe he’ll follow me. I’m only a third of the way through my edits and rewrites but I think I still like the heart of my story. So I’m gonna keep working on it. Day 336 The end draws near. It’s so close! I’ve made good progress on the story, I’m about halfway through I think. Though I’ve moved so much content around that I honestly don’t know anymore. But I feel accomplished. Oh, and George? I know you’ve gotten attached too. He’s been smaller these days. Some days he grows but I’ve gotten quite good at combating the negative thoughts. So has the time been worth it? Let’s see… Creatively? Sure. Could have I gotten this done without this? I would have taken twice as long, but yeah. Personal growth-wise? Oh yeah. I learned a lot about myself and faced some big problems and I feel ready to go back out there. Day 365 It’s over… Tomorrow I go back to my parent’s house for a few weeks. Then, I was able to get a lease in my old apartment building. I found a new job that starts in a week or two. They gave us a guidebook to help us “reacclimate.” I’m not too worried. I’m packed up and George is curled up like a cat on my suitcase. So I guess he’s coming with me. Good luck, Science Dudes. Enjoy the road through my journal. Hope it helps with whatever the goal was. Peace out!

The library is quiet today, too quiet… Finals are next week - surely people understand they need to study? Whatever, I’ll do well on the finals all by myself. Tomas comes barreling in. “Belle! What are you doing here?” He is panting heavily, has he run all the way here? And from where, and why? “What are you talking about, Tom? Finals are next week. Where else would I be?” I raise my eyebrow and gesture to the pile of books around me. “You forgot what today is, didn’t you?” he deadpans. “It’s Tuesday.” I pick up my book again; I need to be studying. He puts a letter on the table. “Oh, that. No, I’m choosing to ignore that.” I shove the note away. “I will pick my own destiny. Thank you very much.” Tomas catches the letter. “Belle, come on! You promised me we’d open them at the same time.” “Yeah, when we were eight.” I go back to my book. “Belle, please, I can’t do this without you.” He gives me those stupid puppy dog eyes. “You know I can’t say no to those eyes.” I roll my eyes and extend my hand. He smirks, handing me my dumb letter. I sigh. “One.” He gives me a cocky grin. “Two.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes again. “Three...” We rip into the letters. Tomas hollers with excitement. I just stare at the words on my paper. You are fated to be the hero to all. Was written in some fancy font. I check the name three times just to be sure Tomas grabbed the correct letter. “Well?” Tomas looks at me. “Is it bad?” he quickly adds. “You said none of this mattered anyway. So don’t stress.” I toss the letter towards him. “It has to be wrong.” My mind unwillingly wanders back to the last hero; he’d been cast out by the very people he’d protected for years… His letter had had the same words. Tomas picks up my letter. “Woah! Dude, that’s so cool!” “No it’s not.” I look down, trying to focus again on studying. I’m no hero. “Belle, you can’t just ignore this! You are supposed to be a hero to all!” He slams his fist on the table, hard. “No. I will not be. I’m not the hero type.” I shake my head and look back at my papers. “Belle…” He lowers his voice. “No! Tomas, end of the pointless discussion.” I quickly pack up my books and start to leave the library. “But, Belle! We need heroes! The villains are starting to regroup! We will need someone to stand up to them.” He follows after me. “And look how they treated the last one!” I snap. “I won’t be the people's next punching bag. Why don’t you go! You be the hero!” I snatch his letter from his hand. “What does yours say anyway?” You will be recognized for your greatness. “Perfect. You be the hero.” I shove both letters back at him. “And I’ll be the wallflower I always wanted to be.” I leave him looking at me with a shocked face. We never speak about the letter again. Tomas does become a great hero, probably the greatest the city has ever seen. I pretend not to recognize him and cover for him when I can. I didn’t exactly get the wallflower life I wanted; I became a scientist and help the city deal with different side effects of the villains’ inventions. One day when the attack alarm goes off, before I can make it to my safe room, Tomas speeds by, grabs my arm and somehow pulls me onto his motorbike. “What the heck?!” I scream and hold on for dear life. He says nothing, speeding through town until we get to what I assume is his lair. “What is going on?” I yell once he lets me off the bike. “I need your help.” He flips on a monitor. I see people sleeping all over the city. “What’s happening?” “The villains made a toxin, it’s causing everyone to pass out, and they started with firemen and police! I’m on my own, I need you to come up with an antitoxin to reverse the effects.” He gestures to the small lab setup. “I was able to get a sample of the vile they are using to stun everyone.” I quickly get to work, being careful not to breathe in anything. “I’ll need people to try it on.” I don’t look up, I need to work fast. “I have a passage to both the fire and police station so I’ll go collect whoever I can.” I’d never seen Tomas so defeated. I get so lost in my work that I don’t notice the number of people he has brought down to the lair. “Have anything ready to test?” I jump slightly. “I think I have the first batch ready.” I inject the antitoxin into the police chief. He instantly wakes up! “Yes! It worked!” Tomas smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Guess you get to be a hero after all.” I laugh. “Don’t say that until we know we can stop these guys. We’ve got work to do, let's go.” From that day forward, I work alongside Tomas and together we keep our city safe.

I sit on the top level of the bunker, crossbow drawn. It’s my night to take the watch; keeping the fire going at night seems to be effective in keeping the beasts away. The night watch has been getting easier but it cannot be obsolete. It is too risky if the beasts got brave and tried to break into the camp - we’d have to move. I do not want to move again… It would be too hard with the group I have now; the younger ones are finally starting to recover from everything we’ve been through. I unload and lower my crossbow, walk over to the opening, and look over my little band of troops. The typical band of misfits. I’m in the middle of my headcount when - Snap! I turn and aim my crossbow, walking toward the edge of the bunker, but I see no one. There are no beasts… So what made the noise? It couldn’t be one of the traps; the teens had figured out how to set silent traps so the beasts don’t hear when we catch smaller animals. So something is out there. I put my crossbow on my back and use the rope system we have made for us older ones to get to the ground quickly. I grab one of the torches; even though carrying a torch would prevent me from using my crossbow, still, fire is as good a weapon as any. I walk along the chain fence. I’m not sure what I’m looking for but I’d rather be lectured about being overly cautious and protecting them than lose anyone else. I hear rustling in the bushes and move in closer. “Who goes there?” As if I expect some kind of answer. “Help me,” a woman's voice quietly calls out. Someone is there!? Someone else is alive in this nightmare? I have to help her; the beasts are worse at night. “You are near our entrance. Are you hurt, can you keep moving?” “I think my need to survive can last a bit longer.” She whispers, almost like she is trying to make a joke. “Alright, follow the light as quietly and as quickly as you can.” We creep along the fence and bush line; once we are at the gate I put the torch in its holder, carefully unlink the fence, and open the gate. “Quickly now.” She races in and falls to the ground. I quickly relink the fence. “Hey, hey,” I whisper. “I need you to stay with me a bit longer.” “Thank you,” she whispers, fighting to stay awake. She clearly is in no condition to walk anymore. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?” She nods. I pick her up, carefully grab the torch, and start walking back to the bunker. “Tell me something about yourself.” I need to keep her awake. “I miss the song that the birds used to sing.” Her voice is pained. “You and me both.” We finally get inside. I carefully set her down on my bed, then race across the room and wake up Rose. “A survivor found us. She needs to be looked over now.” Rose shoots up and I light her lantern. She walks to the bed and looks over our newest survivor. “She hasn’t been attacked. She is exhausted, starving, and in desperate need of water.” “I’ll go get her something.” Tim-o, the teenage boy who is apparently awake, lights his lantern from my torch and takes off toward the supply shed. “I brought some cloths and water, and she can use some of my clothes tonight.” This offer comes from Lady Ace, who has appeared beside us. I look at her and she shrugs. “I woke up when you came in. She’ll sleep better if she’s not covered in dirt or sweat. Jimboy and Tiny are both still fast asleep.” Rose and Lady Ace help our newest survivor wipe off the top layer of dirt. Tim-o returns and states, “I brought a fresh canteen, some dry fish and one of the fresher loaves of bread.” He places them beside her. “Eat and drink slowly, we don’t need you to make yourself sick,” I advise. She takes a few bites and a long sip of water. “Good, now the rest of you…” I look at the two teens and Rose - “...To bed with you, morning will come soon enough.” The teens head back to bed without a word. Rose looks at our guest once more. “Don’t worry deary, Big Al will take care of you, just like he does all of us.” Rose turns to me and places a hand on my cheek. “Good work, my boy.” And she lets us be. I kneel next to our newest survivor. “You think you’ll be warm enough? We have extra blankets. We’ll get you a sleeping mat in the morning.” “I’ll be fine, thank you. For everything. I didn’t think…” The tears well up in her eyes. I rest a hand on her shoulder. “Tomorrow, there will be time for that tomorrow. You're safe. I need to go keep watch.” I point to the opening in the roof. “I’ll be there, you’ll see me make my rounds. It’s why my bed is here, I can keep tabs on the kids when I can’t sleep.” I get up to leave. She catches my hand. “I’m grateful to not be alone again.” Out of an old habit, I squeeze her hand. I climb up the ladder back to the roof. I look back and see her amber eyes staring back at me; I give a wave. She waves back. I go back to my rounds, thoughts plaguing my mind. Who are you? How did you survive the last six months alone? Or were you alone? After a few laps, I make my way back to do my head count; she’s fallen asleep. *** Morning comes fast and Tiny runs up to find me like always. “Morning, Big Al! Did you see the new lady? We haven’t had new people since Lady Ace and Jimboy joined!” Tiny keeps talking; I didn’t stop her, I am grateful she found her voice again. I can hear everyone is up so I help Tiny down the ladder. Once my feet hit the ground, Tim-o walks up beside me. “She’s still out.” “Of course, Tim-o; remember how dead tired you and Rose were when you found Tiny and me? We have no idea what she’s seen. Like all of us, she needs grace as she adjusts.” I lead the kids over to the eating area we’ve set up outside. Shortly after breakfast, our newest survivor joins us outside. She’s in a set of Lady Ace’s clothes. She’s had a few scrapes and bruises but she looks beautiful. My heart skips a beat or two; Tim-o gives me a look, I shoot him one back. “Good morning, deary. We have some breakfast left.” Rose hands her a plate. The kids look at me pleadingly. “No, you can't stay and visit with her, you have chores. And I need to talk with our new survivor. But you can all finish early. Then we will all get to know each other. Alright?” I shoe them off and they all go somewhat reluctantly. Rose gets started with the cleaning. “You in charge around here?” She asks between bites of food. “Not intentionally. But Rose and I are the oldest, and Rose gives more grandmother vibes than a camp leader. So I take charge, trying to keep all of us alive as long as I can.” I look over at them. “I assume you have questions about me? I’ll tell you wh-” I cut her off. “We’ll answer them all in time. So few of us remember life before the explosion and the invasion of the beasts. There is no rush for the answers.” I reach across the table and put my hand on top of hers. “The only thing that matters is getting you healthy and helping you find a place here so we can all thrive as best we can.” I lean back, moving my hand away. “Is that why you and all the kids have such… unique names?” She looks over at them, watching us. She smiles; it looks nice on her. “The kids can’t remember their real names, only Rose and I do. But Tiny remembered me when I found her. She called me Big Al, it’s what the kids at her school used to call me. So I told her if I was gonna be Big Al, she’s got to be Tiny.” I shrug. “So did you all knew each other before?” She finishes eating and Rose takes her plate. “Tiny and I did. Rose and Tim-o met trying to survive. Not sure who was protecting whom. And Lady Ace and Jimboy are siblings.” I motion to everything around us. “Welcome to our little home…” I gesture to her, waiting for her to give me a name. “Songbird. Like the sound I miss most.” She looks up to the sky, like she’ll hear them sing. Her smile still seems to have hope. How does she still have hope? “Songbird. It suits you. I can just tell.” My heart skips another beat. Maybe there is something after the world ends, after all.

The name is Sir Arthur the Wise Bear. Yes I know it’s a mouthful but my kid Jenny named me when she was like five. So I can’t really hold it against her. And she never changed it so I am Sir Arthur the Wise Bear. And I have been watching Jenny pack up my home. So when she left to hang out with some friends, I carefully snuck around the house and no other room was being packed up. So what is Jenny up to? Why is she packing up? I look around the room. What clues can I find? I’m not so young anymore, so I have to get creative to get up on the desk, which is the only space not fully packed. So if I am going to find answers, they would likely be there. The boxes might work but the first box was just a touch too high. So getting creative is a necessity. Jenny’s roller skates are still in her closet, so I do what every clever bear would do. I build up speed with the roller skates and leap up to the box. Flomp! I land hard. I sit and lean against the next box I need to climb. How did I do this when I was younger? Maybe there was something to that “child play theory" that the old doll had, whom Jenny had inherited from her mom. I slowly make my way up to the top of the desk. Then I notice it - her laptop is open to a packing list. The summer is over already? How soon is she leaving? Am I going with her? Should I just jump into a box so I could make sure I go with her? I almost do - but then I stop. What if she doesn’t want me? Maybe you didn’t bring a stuffed animal with you to college. I am in the middle of this debate when the door opens. I drop to the desk. Unfortunately, I don’t calculate where I am on the desk and I fall to the ground. Boy, am I ever grateful for my stuffing. “Oh dear, that girl.” Her mother laughs, looking at the state of chaos that is Jenny’s room. I’m not sure what’s happening, but the desk is moving and I am shoved awkwardly under the bed. I can’t really move. And of course, Jenny’s mom doesn’t notice. I hear her leave, and try to move. I can’t. I know there is no point in calling out for help - I’m the only toy left in the room. I can only hope that Jenny will notice I’m missing from my normal spot, or in the worst case someone will see me when they go to change the sheets. Jenny doesn’t notice I am missing that night or the next morning. However, somebody moves the bed just enough that I can crawl away from the bedpost. But still no one sees me. Then a throw pillow lands on me - somehow it falls off the bed. It feels heavy, heavier than it should be. It’s like all the weight of being left behind is literally on top of me. How can I stay here while my kid goes away to college? I am supposed to protect her. Then I hear it. “Mom! Where is Sir Arthur?” It’s muffled, but she is looking for me! “The Wise Bear?” Her mom hollers back. “I don’t know, Sweetheart! But if you can’t find him before tomorrow morning, I’ll personally take your room apart looking for him. And have him ready to go to college before you’re here for Thanksgiving!” I have to get out of here and into a box tonight! I listen to Jenny look everywhere in the room except behind her bed. Maybe she just couldn’t see me trapped under the pillow. She sighs and gives up. The light goes off and I hear her fall asleep. Through what I figure has to be love for my kid, I push the pillow off of myself and roll away before it lands back on me. I roll through several fields of dust bunnies, then dust myself off and look at the boxes. Not one of them is open. What can I do? I could just appear on the floor in the morning. But wouldn’t she be filled with the magic of childhood again if I just appeared in her dorm room? The door is slightly ajar. I carefully sneak out and notice an open box at the bottom of the stairs. I recognize a few things that normally sit on the desk… It would likely be the last one she’d open. I topple down a few stairs and stop slightly above the open box and jump. Flamp! That landing wasn’t great but I am in the box. I wiggle around and get as comfortable as I can and wait. The next morning, I could hear the trunk of the car open and shut - I am in! I can’t help but be reminded of all the times I sat beside Jenny in the car watching the world go by. Maybe I should have let her find me on the floor. Maybe then I could have done that again. But that’s doubtful. So I just enjoy the hum of the car. Soon the box is moving and there are so many voices. We’ve arrived! I hear Jenny introduce herself to another girl and listen while they chat and unpack. I also hear her parents say something about going to the hotel and that they will be back later. The girls talk a bit longer, then her roommate says something like that she’d be back in a bit too. “Finally some peace and quiet.” I hear her let out a heavy sigh and the bed creaks. After a beat - “Well what’s in this box again?” Light fills the box. “Sir Arthur! How? What?” She hugs me close. I’ve missed this. “I’m so glad you're here,” she whispers and plops me on a spot on the bed. “Let's get this done!” I’m sure if she is talking to me or not, but I am happy to watch. By the time her parents return, she has everything set up. “Hey, looks good, kiddo!” Her dad beams with pride. “Oh! Sweetheart, you didn’t tell me you found Sir Arthur this morning. Here I was, thinking I was gonna have to take your room apart.” Her mother picks me up. “Eh! If it isn't Mr. Wise Guy!” Her father laughs. “I really don't remember packing him… Especially not with my desk stuff.” Jenny takes me from her mom and sets me on the bed. “Maybe he knew you’d need him,” her mother suggests as the family leaves the room. I will always find a way to get to her if she needs me. After all, what else are Teddy Bears for?

Quin and Pepper had grown up on a little island together. If you'd watched the two girls growing up, you might not have guessed what close friends they would become. You see, while they were so similar, they were also so very different. They ran in different social circles; so for being in a place so small, their lives hardly overlapped at all. Expert for one place. A weekly meeting that their parents went to with kids in tow. The meeting was where they learned about the King and the ways He called his people to serve him. Over the years, Quin and Pepper grew not just in age, but also in their love for the King and their bond with each other. Even though their worlds did not revolve around one another, they were always there for each other - a place to go for encouragement, with tears, and to celebrate big moments. All too soon, it was Pepper's turn to leave the island, to go out into the world and figure out what she had been made for. Quin met her at the docks. “Are you sure you have to go?” Pepper hugged her friend tightly. “Yeah, I’m sure. It seems pretty clear.” She held up the note from the King. Quin jokingly shoved Pepper’s shoulder. “It's not fair. I should get to go first. I'm older.” Pepper’s smile faltered for a moment. “I wish you were going first, for the record. This is terrifying. This island is all I've ever known.” “Hey, you’re amazing! You’re gonna do great out there - you’ll make friends and I bet you’ll hardly ever wanna come back!” Quin did her best to cheer up her oldest friend. “Hey, I’ve got to see you, don’t I?” Pepper laughed and pulled Quin back into a hug. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, Pep. I know I am.” Quin squeezed a little tighter. “Q! Quit being such a sap on the day I’m leaving! You’ll make me cry and if I start crying, my mom will get all emotional again, and we just got her calmed down.” Pepper chuckled, blinking back her tears. “Hey, what else are best friends for?” Quin blinked back a few tears of her own. The boat pulled in and Pepper tossed her bag over her shoulder. Quin stood with Pepper's family. “I’ll miss you!” Quin called as Pepper boarded the boat. “Stay in touch! “Of course! I’ll miss you, too!” Pepper waved before disappearing into the boat. Quin watched the boat leave. She couldn’t help but feel like a small part of her had left the island with Pepper. The girls tried to stay in touch, but Pepper was busy working and trying to figure out where she was supposed to serve. Before Quin got her own note from the King telling her it was her turn to leave, it was easier to get in a visit every few months. But with Quin also off the island, they become literal ships passing in the night. For a spell, the only time they saw each other was during holidays, when they were expected to spend time with their families. “I feel like I never see you anymore!” Quin complained into her cup of hot cocoa during one rare holiday visit. “I miss you too, Q.” Pepper chuckled into her peppermint tea. “I’m just grateful this worked out.” “Me too. How are you doing, Pep?” Quin set her cup down and focused on her friend. “Honestly? This whole “finding your purpose thing” is driving me insane…” Pepper fidgeted with the tag of her tea bag. “Like, what if we get it wrong?” Quin reached across the table. “I’m not sure we can… The King has a plan - I mean, look at His Book. You think all those people knew what they were doing?” “Spoken like the wanna-be scholar,” Pepper teased. Quin stuck her tongue out and pulled her hand away. “Hey, I was just trying to help. But honestly, I think we’ll figure it out in due time.” “Yeah, you’re probably right.” The two girls continued visiting and laughing until their families started calling. After several jobs and who-knows-how-many hours of different classes, the girls both stood on the cusp of change. “I think I found it!” Pepper said on a phone call one day. “Found what?” Quin asked, flopping on her couch. “The place where I belong.” Pepper’s excitement could be felt through the phone. “Really, where?” Quin almost leapt out of her seat. “I'm going to join the Protector’s Guild!” Quin could feel Pepper’s smile through the phone. “Oh! My! Gosh! That's amazing, Pepper!” Quin wished she could hug her friend right then. “Did you know the Protectors do more than just fight? They also go and help people heal…?” Pepper spoke in a tone that was almost like she was lost in a daydream. “No, I didn’t know that. It sounds like a perfect fit for you.” Quin thought about her friend. “You’ve got such a heart for people, especially those who are hurting. You’re going to do great there.” “Aww! You’re so sweet!” Pepper sighed. “Any closer for you?” “Actually…” Quin paused for effect. “Q! Don’t keep me in suspense!” Pepper practically squealed. “I applied for the Storytellers Guild… I haven’t heard from them yet… but I think I want to tell the King’s stories and maybe some of my own that will help His people.” Quin waited with bated breath. What would her friend say… Did Pepper even know that Quin liked to tell stories? “Oh! My! Quin! That’s so perfect for you! You have always been good at telling stories! And you are so creative! This will be so perfect!” Pepper was overjoyed for her friend. “Maybe someday we can do something together,” Quin teased. “Oh, that would be wonderful!” Pepper and Quin sat there on the phone in silence, enjoying the peace of the moment. “I'm proud of us.” Pepper smiled. Quin picked up a photo album her mom had sent with her when she left the island. She flipped to a photo of them from when they were little, snapped a picture of the photo and sent it to Pepper’s phone. “I think they would be.” “Oh my, we were so little…” Pepper cooed. “Yeah, they’d probably think we are so cool and want to be just like us when they grow up.” Quin giggled. “And spend way too many years worrying and trying to figure out how to be that cool.” “But…” Pepper paused. “They’ll make it.” “Yeah, and they’ll do it together.” Quin set the photo aside. “Glad to be on the journey with you, Pepper.” “Right back at you, Quin. Can’t wait to see where we go next.” Pepper and Quin chatted a bit longer, daydreaming about what could be. They knew that whatever the King had in store for them, just like everything else on the journey, they would always be able to find time for each other - time to sit and visit, to talk on the phone, and to be a place to go for encouragement, with tears, and to celebrate big moments together. This story gives you the chance to do some real-world good. Pepper is based on a friend of mine and she runs a program called Makwa Dodem with the Ally Global Foundation, I'm a huge believer in what she's doing over there and would love for you to go check it out.