The First Broomstick

 

            Cleo was unbelievably frustrated. She had spent more than a year developing a serum that would allow levitation in its subjects. All her research said that this should work. Her test subjects, however, weren’t cooperating.

            Her idea was to use the serum and inject it under the skin of the subject. Her calculations said that they should be able to lift off the ground and zoom around at will. She couldn’t test it on humans yet, of course, but her animal tests had all been complete failures.

            Cleo sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. Her colleagues had all laughed at her for taking on this project, and she was going to lose her funding if she didn’t produce results soon. She glared at the mouse inside its cage. It should be floating right now, but it remained rooted to the floor of the cage, calmly eating.

            All of her test experiments had turned out the same. She really wanted to move on to human testing, but she couldn’t without at least one successful animal test. She rubbed her eyes, thinking. It was getting late, but she felt like she was so close. It had always been a fanciful dream of hers to be able to push off the ground and fly around. She had to keep moving forward.

            Cleo thought about how amazing it would be to fly around wherever you wanted to go. It happened all the time in books and movies. Everyone knew stories about witches flying around on broomsticks.

            Cleo sat up so fast that she bumped into her desk, hitting the funny bone in her elbow. She rubbed it absentmindedly as she thought again about the idea that had just popped into her head. What if instead of making living things fly, I tried making inanimate objects fly, like broomsticks? She would have to modify the serum, maybe turn it into a coat of paint or something, but this could work.

            Cleo bent back over her desk, frantically making changes in her notes, then stepped over to the lab to create the paint.

            Half an hour later, Cleo was back in her office with the paint and an old broom that she had found in the janitor’s closet. Carefully, she painted the broom, wearing plastic gloves to protect her hands. She made sure to cover each strand of the broom’s brush. When she was done, the paint was gone, and Cleo waited for the broom to completely dry.

            Nearly bursting with anticipation, Cleo removed her gloves and set them haphazardly on her desk. She didn’t notice when they rose to the ceiling. She picked up the broom, checking for any wet paint. Then she waited for something to happen. When nothing did, she tossed the broom to the corner, feeling frustrated once again. Maybe she should just go home and try again tomorrow.

            To her surprise, the broom didn’t clatter to the floor like she expected it to. Turning to look at it, she saw that it was hovering in midair. Barely stopping herself from jumping up and down for joy, she grabbed the broom once again. She felt it vibrating under her hand.

            Cleo immediately wanted to try riding it. Straddling the broom, she slowly let her weight fall on it. It still seemed to be levitating, so she lifted her feet and felt a thrill when the broom held her weight.

            It only lasted a moment, however, because as soon as Cleo leaned forward slightly, she shot toward the open window in front of her. Holding on for dear life with her heart feeling as if it would beat out of her chest, she suddenly found herself outside. Her office was three stories up, so the ground was a long way down.

            Cleo leaned down to wrap her arms around the broom, and then she felt herself going even faster. She tried leaning back a little, and the broom slowed down. Feeling a little relieved, she tried getting the broom to turn around. She found that all she needed to do was lean slightly to the left or the right, and she would go in that direction.

            Eventually, she made it back to her office and through the window. She slowed down and dismounted, feeling an immense satisfaction. She had done it! No longer would flying witches on broomsticks be figments of someone’s imagination. She couldn’t wait to tell everyone that it hadn’t been impossible. They wouldn’t be laughing at her now.

            Cleo thought again of flying through the air with the night all around her and the wind whipping through her hair. Yes, she would show everyone tomorrow, but right now, she had to have that feeling again. Mounting the broom once more, she flew out the window, and this time, she let out a whoop of pure joy. It may have been more of a cackle, but Cleo thought it fit the night just right.

The Magic of the Cathedral

 

            Timothy hurried to the construction site. He wanted to get there before the foundation was finished. He lifted up the bottom of his robes so he could run. Shouts of “Good morning, Father!” and “Good day, Father!” followed him as he got closer to the site. There were a lot of people who had come to work on the new cathedral. This would be perfect.

            Timothy slowed down as he reached the center of activity. He looked over the nearly completed foundation and marveled at how huge this place was going to be. He drew his robes close around him and tried to appear pious. His disguise as a holy man would only work if he acted the part. He slowly walked the perimeter, pretending he was there to inspect the work as it progressed, but really, he was looking for a suitable place to perform the spell.

            He might have been dressed as a priest, but Timothy was actually a wizard. He had been looking for a permanent structure that would last a really long time, and a cathedral would fit that requirement. If everything he had heard about the new Notre Dame Cathedral turned out to be true, then this would be a truly massive building. It would take a very long time to complete, and it was meant to be around forever. This suited Timothy’s plans perfectly.

            The spell would tie his life to the life of the building and would allow him to find other young wizards and teach them about the magic in the world. Wizards usually lived longer than normal humans, but Timothy had already lived longer than most wizards. He had watched the magic in the world diminish alarmingly over the last five hundred years. He remembered when dragons actually flew in the sky and fairies didn’t feel the need to hide.  

            Timothy walked over to where the workers were digging and placing foundation stones. He would have preferred to cast his spell at night with no one around, but he would just have to create a distraction instead. Gripping his wand inside of his long sleeve, he muttered an incantation. Sparks flew out of his sleeve and streaked off behind him, landing in the back of a cart. That cart was full of hay bales, and the sparks immediately became flames, and soon the entire cart was engulfed in a burning inferno.

            People all around Timothy rushed in to help put out the flames. They could not let this fire get out of control. Timothy, meanwhile, took the opportunity to cast his spell on one of the remaining foundation stones that hadn’t yet been placed. Deftly cutting his palm with a small knife, he allowed a few drops of his blood to drip onto the stone. He then removed a vial of precious unicorn dust and sprinkled it over the stone. He then waved his wand and muttered a few words.

            With his work finished, Timothy walked over to join the rest of the crowd. Despite all their efforts, the fire had begun to spread. Several more carts and wagons now had flames coming off them. From inside his sleeve, Timothy waved his wand while muttering another incantation. After that, the flames lessened considerably, and people were able to put the fire out.

            Timothy smiled as he watched everyone return back to work. The foundation stones were laid, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. This should allow him to live a much longer time and teach young wizards how to use their powers. It would also alert him to any new wizards in the area that would need guidance. He felt a hum resonate within him, and he knew that the magic was working. He looked around and immediately focused on a young man that was helping his father work on the cathedral.

            Timothy squared his shoulders and walked over to introduce himself. He needed to teach this new wizard everything he needed to know.

            Nearly 900 years later, Timothy no longer pretended to be a priest. He worked as a tour guide in the Notre Dame Cathedral. He had found and trained countless young wizards, and he still enjoyed his work. He shuddered when he thought of the horrific fire that nearly destroyed the cathedral a few years ago. It was a good thing he had chosen such an important building for his spell. The damage from the fire was being repaired, and the Cathedral would be around for many more years to come.

            Tourists were always amazed at his knowledge of the Cathedral. He knew the answers to everyone’s questions. Today’s tour group had the usual questions. As Timothy answered them, he felt the familiar hum of a new wizard nearby and turned to see a young man who looked a little bored.

            Timothy waited until the end of the tour, and then he slipped his card into the young man’s backpack. It had his website and email on it. He hoped the young man would contact him, but it would also allow him to know where the young man went. After so many years, Timothy knew everyone, and he could alert the wizard closest to the young man so he could still get a magical education.

A Horrible Day

 

            Jett knew that when life gave you lemons, you were supposed to make lemonade. At least that’s what his mom always said. But lately, he’d been given so many lemons, his lemonade would be way too sour. He really needed some sugar to sweeten up his life.

            Things had started off badly this morning when he realized he hadn’t done his homework from the night before. He tried to do it on the bus ride to school, but he had been in too much of a hurry and wasn’t able to finish. He handed it in to his teacher, knowing that he wouldn’t be getting a good grade. In math class, there was a pop quiz. Jett wasn’t totally surprised when he got a C- on it. In gym class, they played softball, which he usually loved. But it had rained the night before and the outfield was almost like a pond. Jett ended up covered in wet grass and soaked in mud.

            Lunch wasn’t much better. Jett had made himself his usual lunch of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but somehow, his sandwich had slid out of the zippered bag and smeared jelly all over the inside of his backpack.

            By the afternoon, Jett was starving and upset. His bad mood got him into an argument with Ben in English class that led to both boys going to see the principal. Ben ended up with a black eye, and Jett’s lip was bleeding. When the bell rang, he got out of there as quickly as he could. He had a note he would have to show to his parents. He deflated inside when he thought about what his mom would say. On the bus, he plopped down in his usual seat and closed his eyes, just wanting this day to be over.

            Finally, the bus stopped at the top of his street, and Jett slowly got off. When his feet hit the sidewalk, he realized he must have made a mistake. Instead of looking down his street, he was standing in front of what looked like a bank building. He turned around to get back on the bus, but it was gone. Instead, there was a man wearing a shiny purple suit with a bowtie.

            Jett was so surprised that he just stared at the man before the man said, “Can I help you, young sir?”

            “Uhh, yes. I got off on the wrong stop and I need to get home. Where am I?”

            Jett expected the man to give him an address, but instead he said, “This is where you schedule your re-do.”

            “My what?”

            “Your re-do. If you have a bad day, sometimes you can be chosen to have the day to live over again.”

            Jett’s brain stopped for a moment. “I get a re-do? How come?” He thought back over his day and realized that he could have made some better decisions. If he could go back and do it again, that would really make it so much better.

            The man in the purple suit looked kindly at Jett. “It’s your lucky day! Just go in the front doors and step up to the counter.”

            Jett walked up to the doors that turned out to be purple with pink polka dots. He pushed them open to reveal what looked like a colorful circus. The people inside were all wearing bright colored suits with bowties. There was every color of the rainbow represented.

            Jett walked up to the counter where a woman in a glittery lavender suit greeted him by saying, “What’s your name, dear?”

            “Jett Phillips,” Jett replied a little nervously.

            The woman consulted a list in front of her. “Ahh, yes, it looks like you had a pretty rough day at school today. Lucky for you, you get another chance.”

            “How exactly does that work?” Jett asked curiously.

            “It’s a fairly simple process. Just let us know how far back you’d like to go, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

            “What do you mean, how far back?”

            The woman straightened a stack of papers and said, “At what point would you like to restart your day?”

            Jett thought about when his troubles began. “I know!” he said excitedly. “I want to go back to 8 PM from last night when I should have been doing my homework. If I can finish it yesterday, I’ll be able to turn it in in the morning.”

            The woman wrote something down in a big ledger. When she finished, she looked up and said, “All right, I’ve got you down for 8 PM last night. All you need to do is sign here.” She handed Jett a piece of paper.

            After quickly looking it over, Jett signed his name at the bottom. He handed the paper back to the woman.

            “Okay,” she said brusquely. “Please exit through the orange doors.” She gestured off to her right, where Jett saw some vibrant orange doors.

            “Okay, thanks,” Jett said, grinning. He walked toward the doors and actually had his hand on it when he thought to turn around and ask, “So when do I get to restart?”

            The large circus-like room was gone, and Jett found himself in his own kitchen. Confused, Jett whirled around, but the orange doors were gone too. He must have just gotten a drink out of the refrigerator. There was a cold glass of milk in his hand. Outside the window it was dark. Did it work? he thought, wondering if this could actually be happening.

            Jett ran out into the hall where his backpack stood in its normal place. Looking inside, there was no sticky jelly mess and his homework assignment worksheet was blank. “I really do get a re-do,” he whispered excitedly. He immediately pulled out his assignment and this time, he took the time he needed to finish it correctly.

            Later, Jett went to bed, excited for tomorrow. He fell asleep, telling himself things like, “Go around the giant puddle by first base,” and “Make sure the sandwich bag is totally zipped shut.”

            Jett had a great day after he got up the next morning. He confidently turned in his homework. Because he had done it correctly, the pop quiz didn’t seem as hard as it had been before. Jett spent the entire gym class trying to stay away from the large bodies of water on the softball field. His lunch tasted perfect.

            As he rode the bus home, Jett thought about the re-do circus place and hoped that if he ever had another bad day, he would get lucky enough to get another re-do. He would be totally fine having a do-over for all of his bad days. That would be awesome.

A Skateboarding Tale

 

            Kristy crashed down – hard. “Ow,” she moaned softly.

            Her friend, Becca, skated toward her, concern etched on her face. “Are you okay? That was a pretty big wipeout.”

            Kristy stood up, wincing when she tried to put weight on her leg. She hobbled over to where her skateboard had rolled away and picked it up. “I think I’m okay,” she said slowly. “But I must have landed wrong. My leg really hurts.”

            “Well, I saw how you fell,” Becca said in concern. “You tripped over your skateboard somehow and then it looked like you kind of sat on it sideways as you fell. I’ll bet your leg really hurt after that.”

            Kristy rubbed her thigh ruefully. “I guess I’d better be done skating for today.” She picked up her skateboard and started home, with Becca skating beside her. Kristy had just recently gotten into skateboarding after her uncle gave her a skateboard for her birthday. She had been a little dubious about it at first, but then she discovered that she really enjoyed it. She had convinced Becca to get a skateboard too, and most afternoons, they could be seen skating around the neighborhood.

            Kristy’s leg ached, and after saying goodbye to Becca, she went inside to check the extent of the damage. Carefully rolling up her pant leg, she saw a massive bruise forming just above her knee. “Ow,” she said again.

            Mom saw and said, “Ooh, you might want to get some ice for that, sweetie.”

            Kristy looked up at Mom worriedly and said, “Do you think it’s broken?”

            Mom shook her head and said, “No. If it were broken, you wouldn’t be able to walk at all.”

            Over the next few days, Kristy’s leg healed, but the bruise turned all different colors before it finally started to disappear. During this time, she didn’t want to get back on her skateboard. Every time Becca asked her to go skating, she would give excuses. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was scared. She was afraid of her skateboard and falling again. She and Becca found other things to do. Her skateboard lay forgotten in the garage.

            Months later, Kristy found her skateboard again while looking for something else. She took it out and looked it over. In dismay, she realized that someone had scratched the word “Coward” into the smooth purple underside of the skateboard. Who would do that? Kristy was an only child, and she couldn’t imagine her parents doing something like this.

            Kristy was still staring at her board in disbelief when she heard a small voice say, “So, is it true?”

            Kristy’s eyes snapped up, looking for the source of the voice. What she saw was a small creature, about six inches high. It looked like a tiny gnome or something with his hands on his hips. He was looking at Kristy accusingly. “What do you mean?” she finally said when she got over her shock.

            “Are you a coward?”

            “No, I mean, I don’t think so.” She looked closely at the creature’s angry face and asked, “Who are you?”

            “My name is Hobart, and I’m the guardian of this house. Some might call me a brownie or a hobgoblin.”

            Kristy felt her eyes widen at this statement. “Our family has lived here for my whole life. Why have I never seen you before?”

            “Well, I’ve never felt the need to talk to you before, but now I can’t keep quiet. I’ve gotten used to all of your faults, but I will not tolerate cowardice in this house.” Hobart glared at Kristy.

            “But I’m not a coward!” Kristy cried shrilly.

            “Then why haven’t you ridden your skateboard for months?”

            Kristy shifted her feet a little uneasily. “I’ve been busy.”

            “No, you’re scared. I watched you before you had your little crash. Didn’t you love it?”

            “Well, yeah,” Kristy answered in a small voice. “But I really don’t want to get hurt again. If that makes me a coward, then I guess I am.”

            The look on Hobart’s face softened a little. “Come on, all you need to do is get back on the skateboard. As long as you wear your safety gear, you can’t really get too badly injured. Where are your skate pads and helmet?”

            Kristy looked toward the other side of the garage where her skate equipment had sat for months. “Okay, I’ll try it,” she said with a sigh. She picked up her skateboard and safety equipment and hauled it out to the driveway. She put all the pads in place and buckled her helmet on. She stood up and placed her skateboard on the ground in front of her. Then she paused, looking back toward the garage. She could just make out Hobart giving her a thumbs up.

            Okay, she could do this. Taking a deep breath, she slowly placed one foot on the board and pushed off with her other foot. She skated up and down the driveway a few times before she realized something. This was fun. She looked back at Hobart, grinning, but he had disappeared.

            Kristy spent over an hour skateboarding outside. When Becca came over to hang out, she ran back home for her own skateboard. The two girls spent the rest of the afternoon skating around the neighborhood.  Finally, when Kristy came back in the garage to put her skateboard away, she looked around for Hobart. There was no sign of him, so she quietly said, “Thanks, Hobart,” before she went inside.

            The next afternoon, Kristy went to grab her skateboard again from the garage. This time, instead of the word “Coward” scratched into the board, it was smooth once more. Kristy ran her hand along where the word used to be, wondering if she had imagined seeing Hobart yesterday. That’s when she noticed a small painting on the end of her board. It said “Courageous.” Knowing now that she hadn’t imagined Hobart, she grinned and went outside to skate.

Magic Teacher

 

            Matthew needed a break. He got up, stretched, and then asked Haley, “Don’t you think we’ve got enough information for our presentation now?”

            Haley still sat at the table, looking over all of the work that they had done. “Yeah, I think we have enough for the presentation. All we need to do now is practice.”

            Matthew sighed. He’d really had enough of reading about the country of France. He couldn’t wait for this whole project to be over. He thought wistfully of tomorrow afternoon. By then, he could forget all about France once their presentation was over.

            Haley interrupted his thoughts. She handed him a sheet of paper, saying, “You do this half, and I’ll do the rest.”

            Matthew took the paper reluctantly. “Okay, but I need to take a break first.” He wandered away from the table where they had been working in the library. He just needed to move his body. He thought about heading outside, but something stopped him. It was almost like someone had said his name, but really softly. He looked around, and there was no one close to him. He looked toward the shelves full of books, and he felt like he should walk over there.

            Matthew wasn’t sure why, but he took a step toward the stacks. He really wanted to go outside, but he felt like he needed to do something first. Not exactly sure what it was, he continued walking toward the rows of books. Once he reached them, he felt something pull him in farther. It was like his body was following invisible instructions, but Matthew had no idea what they were.

            He walked deeper and deeper into the stacks. This library was huge and quite old, but it seemed even bigger now. His body turned down aisles confidently, still following that strange pull. He started to worry that he would get lost. He’d never been this far in before. He glanced at the books on either side of him, noticing that they seemed older and heavier. There weren’t any books with bright pictures on the covers, like he was used to seeing. These books were mostly made of leather with the titles peeling off or illegible.

            Whatever was pulling him on was getting stronger. Matthew started running, feeling like he needed to hurry now. He continued to twist and turn among the stacks. There was no way he would ever find his way out, but he felt like he was almost there.

            Finally, he stopped, breathing heavily. The pull was gone, and Matthew was left a little confused. He had entered a round room, lined with bookshelves. In the center of the room sat a table, with a single book lying on top of it. He was standing right next to the table, so he picked up the book. He could tell that it was ancient. The leather binding was cracked and peeling. It looked like it might have had a handsome green cover at one time, but now it was coming apart in his hands. There was no legible title, but there were a few gold markings that looked like they used to be letters.

            Carefully laying the book back onto the table, Matthew opened it. He immediately felt that pull again, but this time, he was turning pages. He was so close to his goal now, whatever it was. He feverishly turned the pages, heedless of how they disintegrated in his hands. Finally, he reached the right page.

            A beautiful drawing of a blue and gold dragon filled the page. Matthew marveled at the level of detail. The dragon was drawn flying in the air, and Matthew could feel the wind blowing past him from the dragon’s powerful wingbeats. Its scales shimmered and shone. Then, it moved.

            With one mighty swoop of its wings, the dragon flew out of the book, straight into the air in front of Matthew. Matthew stared, dumbstruck, at the miniature dragon now flying around him. It couldn’t be any bigger than a hummingbird, but it was magnificent.

            After circling around Matthew twice, the dragon spoke. “Hmmm, not exactly what I expected, but I guess you’ll do.”

            “W-w-what?” Matthew stammered.

            The dragon landed on Matthew’s shoulder and looked at him haughtily. “I’ve been waiting a thousand years for you to show up. Everyone told me I would be wasting my time by waiting for someone like you to come along.”

            “Someone like me?” Matthew asked softly. “What does that mean?”

            “Someone with your magic capacity. Everyone told me that humans would never have magic, and I’d be waiting in that book forever.” He nodded toward the book that still lay on the table.

            “Uh, I think you’ve got me confused with someone else. I don’t know any magic tricks.”

            A gleam appeared in the dragon’s eyes. “No magic, huh? Where do you think you are?”

            “The city library,” Matthew answered promptly.

            The dragon stared at Matthew, wondering if he was joking. “Um, no. This is the magical library of Tulok. My name is Gable, and I will be your teacher of magic.”

            Matthew felt his jaw drop. This had to be some sort of weird dream or something. He needed to leave. “Uh, thanks, but I need to get back now.” He gave kind of a half-hearted wave as he said, “See you later, Gable.” He turned and ran back into the rows and stacks of books.

            Soon, he was hopelessly lost. He ran in a panic down passages lined with books until he finally stopped to catch his breath.

            “Need some help?” Gable asked, perched on Matthew’s shoulder.

            Matthew yelped and said, “I need to go back and finish my project on France. Haley is waiting for me.”

            “Relax, er, what’s your name again?”

            “It’s Matthew.”

            “Okay, Matthew, all you need to do is use your same magic that you used when you came here.”

            “But I don’t have any magic!” Matthew said, frustrated. “You pulled me here.”

            “Did I? Or did you just follow your feelings?”

            Matthew said nothing. Something had pulled him here. Was it his magic? He did really need to get back to Haley. He closed his eyes and imagined a rope pulling him toward her.

            Matthew opened his eyes and immediately felt himself being pulled along an invisible rope. He took off running to follow the pull.

            “Ah, there you go,” Gable said proudly as he flew along beside Matthew.

            Matthew ran until he started to recognize his surroundings. He was back in the city library now. Slowing down, he turned to Gable to say, “Thanks.”

            The dragon perched on his shoulder again and said, “Anytime. You and I will be spending a lot of time together, you know. You’ll be needing a teacher now.”

            Matthew hesitated before he said, “Well, there’s really no such thing as dragons where I come from. People are going to wonder what’s going on when I show up with you on my shoulder.”

            “Never fear, young wizard!” Gable said happily. “You’re the only one who can see or hear me.”

            And that’s how the first human became a wizard. Matthew walked out of the stacks and sat back down next to Haley.

            “Finally!” Haley sounded exasperated. “Let’s finish this project.”

            Matthew never told anyone about his powers—or Gable. He eventually became a powerful wizard who would seek out other magical talent around him. He worked closely with Gable and they became best friends. The world became a much more magical place after that, and the names of Matthew and Gable became legendary.

The Old Barn

 

            Laura believed in ghosts and was very superstitious. Her sister, Mary, didn’t. Mary was always trying to explain to Laura that ghosts weren’t real, but Laura didn’t believe her.

            Laura went out of her way to avoid things that she considered bad luck. Their neighbor had a black cat that freely roamed the neighborhood. Laura would always turn around and go the other way whenever she saw it. She was very careful not to step on any cracks on the sidewalk. Mary thought she was just wasting her time.

            In an effort to cure Laura of her superstitions, Mary decided that they would explore the Old Barn together. The Old Barn sat on the outskirts of town surrounded by wild, grassy fields. Most kids avoided it, because it was supposed to be haunted. Supposedly, the old owner had been murdered there and his spirit still haunted the building.

            Laura didn’t want anything to do with the Old Barn, but she agreed to come with Mary so that Mary would learn to respect the spirits of the dead. If she could get Mary to believe in ghosts, then she would stop bothering her.

            It was a cool September Saturday when they rode their bikes to the Old Barn. As they got closer, Laura spotted some crows flying above them. “Look,” she told Mary, pointing to the crows. “What better sign can you have to stay away?”

            Mary scoffed and said, “They’re just birds, Laura. Come on, let’s go check it out.” She threw her bike to the ground and ran toward the large open door.

            Laura carefully put the kickstand down and parked her bike. She walked over to join Mary.

            “Ready?” Mary asked eagerly, with a grin on her face.

            “If we must.” Laura flicked on her flashlight. The beam of light did little to dispel the darkness inside. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the dark interior. She immediately felt goosebumps erupt along her arms.

            Nothing seemed to be bothering Mary, though. With a big smile, she called out a soft, “Hello? Are there any ghosts here?”

            Laura nudged Mary and said, “Shhh!”

            Mary ignored her and said, “Come on! Let’s go check it out!” She darted around the old farm equipment scattered all over.

            Laura watched Mary’s light bob toward the other end of the barn. “Wait for me!” she cried shakily. She started to run to her sister but immediately tripped over an old coil of rope. Her flashlight skidded out of her hands and rolled away.

            “Hey, are you okay?” Mary called in concern. She walked back over to Laura and helped her up. “Be careful with all this junk in here.” She walked over to retrieve the flashlight.

            Laura was ready to leave. Even if they didn’t see any ghosts, she was already scared enough. She waited impatiently for Mary to come back with Laura’s flashlight. “What’s taking you so long? I think we should go now.” There was a distinct quaver in her voice.

            Mary finally came back and handed Laura her flashlight. “You have to come check this out!” she said excitedly. “There’s like a door to a secret room or something.” She walked back to where she had been before, expecting Laura to follow her.

            Laura huffed angrily. “I think we should just get out of here.”

            Mary didn’t seem to have heard Laura. “Come on! You have to come see this!”

            Walking carefully, Laura walked over to where Mary was. Mary shone her light on an old door handle set into the wall, but Laura couldn’t see the outline of the door because of all the dust. As she stared at it, Mary turned the door knob and pushed.

            Both girls eagerly looked inside at what appeared to be some kind of storage area. Slightly disappointed, Mary went in to check it out, and Laura reluctantly followed her. As soon as they were inside, the door slammed shut. Both girls screamed, but then Mary laughed, saying, “Good one, Laura. You scared me.”

            “I didn’t do it,” Laura whispered, her face as white as a sheet. “It must have been Farmer Johnson, the guy who was murdered here so long ago.”

            Mary rolled her eyes. “Of course it wasn’t. The wind just blew the door shut.” She reached for the handle to open the door again, but was surprised to discover that the door was locked. She rattled it hard. Some of her confidence vanished as she said, “It’s locked.” She kicked at the door, but it didn’t move.

            “We’ve disturbed Farmer Johnson’s home. Now he’s punishing us!” Laura wailed.

            “Don’t be ridiculous. This is a barn, not a house. Anyway, we just need to find another way out.” They searched the small room to find that there were no other windows or doors.

            Laura was done. She wanted out. She frantically searched the small room again. She didn’t find another door, but she did nearly trip over an axe that was leaning against the wall. “Let’s use this,” she said frantically.

            Mary raised her eyebrows but didn’t argue. “Okay, let me do it.” Laura handed her the axe and Mary started chopping at the door with all her might. The axe wasn’t sharp, and she didn’t make much progress.

            “Try a different place,” Laura suggested, feeling the panic inside that was struggling to overcome her. She pointed to a section of wall that seemed to be a darker kind of wood. “Try there,” she told her sister.

            Obediently, Mary started hacking at the section of wood that Laura pointed to. It became obvious that this part of the wall had been rotting. It immediately came apart under the blows of the axe. As soon as they had created a wide enough hole, the girls crawled through to the inside of the barn.

            Without having to consult each other, they walked back outside to their bikes and pedalled home. Because of this experience, each of the girls became firmer in her own opinion. Laura was convinced that they had somehow disturbed Farmer Johnson’s spirit and he had tried to take out his revenge on them. Mary, on the other hand, insisted that the door must have been locked the whole time. It wasn’t a ghost, just bad luck.

            Whatever had happened, both girls had come to an unspoken agreement to never talk about it again. They also never again tried to change each other’s minds about their superstitions, and they stayed far, far away from the Old Barn.

The Magnificent Cavern

 

            Patrick looked up from the map that he had made of the tunnels. “Hey, Dwayne! Have you broken through yet?”

            “Almost,” came Dwayne’s voice from farther down the tunnel.

            Patrick walked down to see the progress Dwayne had made. They had been exploring the tunnels under Paris for weeks. Patrick had hoped to find Pierre’s ancient lost treasure down here. Legend had it that Pierre the Explorer had hidden a dangerous treasure deep in the tunnels beyond the catacombs. The stories said that Pierre had meant to go back to retrieve the treasure, but he had been mysteriously killed.

            Patrick was only interested in the historical significance of the treasure. He didn’t need any money because he had a large family inheritance. He had convinced his best friend, Dwayne, to go on this adventure with him. They had hired a crew to help with the excavations. Today, they were digging out the side of a tunnel wall that appeared to have been another tunnel at one time, but had later been sealed off. Patrick whistled when he saw how far they had gotten. Nearly half of the opening had been uncovered, and there seemed to be a large space beyond.

            Patrick lifted his lantern toward the opening. The air smelled stale here. “Could this be it, do you think?” he asked Dwayne.

            “I dunno. We won’t be able to shine a light far enough inside until we clear the rest of this area, but it shouldn’t take too much longer.” Dwayne put a reassuring hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “We’ll be able to see in a few minutes.”

            Twenty minutes later, the last of the debris had been cleared, and Patrick anxiously led the way inside. It was the darkest tunnel that they had yet explored. Their lanterns couldn’t completely chase away the darkness.

            The farther they walked down the tunnel, the more excited Patrick became. “There’s got to be something down here,” he said, slightly out of breath. The tunnel twisted and turned, and then it ended abruptly. Patrick and the others were lost for words as they gazed into the magnificent cavern.

            The cavern, at least 50 feet wide, was dominated by a large pool that seemed to shine from deep within. A bluish light illuminated the entire cavern. A path lined the edge and Patrick led the way along it. Precious gems peeked out from the rock walls.

            “I think we found the treasure,” Dwayne said in awe.

            “It would seem so,” Patrick said slowly. “But why was this tunnel sealed off? There are enough gems in here for a king’s ransom. Why would anyone just leave it?” He continued walking along the path until he reached the very back of the cavern. “Here we go,” he said with satisfaction.

            A large chest was set with a lock and was inscribed with the words “Pierre the Explorer.” Patrick held his hand out to Dwayne who handed him a shovel. With a few good whacks, the lock broke open and Patrick carefully lifted the lid.

            The entire crew was gathered around Patrick as he looked inside. They all sighed in disappointment when they saw the contents. Three oval rocks sat on a black velvet cloth inside.

            “Is that it?” Dwayne asked in a worried voice.

            “Let’s see if there’s anything else in here.” Patrick carefully lifted out the rocks one by one and set them on the ground. He took out the black velvet cloth and laid it on top of the rocks. “Nothing else,” he said with a sigh.

            Suddenly, Patrick stood up and bumped into Dwayne who had been leaning over him to get a better look. Dwayne dropped the lantern in his hand. It fell on top of the velvet and broke. Flames erupted on the fabric, which quickly disintegrated, revealing the oval rocks beneath. Instead of dying down, the fire seemed to find fuel in the rocky material.

            No one said anything as the fire continued to blaze. Patrick expected the fire to burn itself out, but it only grew hotter and then started changing colors. First, a bright yellow turned into green, followed by blue which moved into a deep purple.

            One of the crewmen thought to fill a bucket with water, but he stood transfixed by the colorful flames. Finally, the fire turned a brilliant white and then suddenly went out. The cavern, which had seemed brightly lit before the fire started, now seemed very dim.

            Patrick blinked the spots from his vision while Dwayne said, “What on Earth was that?”

            When he was able to see again, Patrick leaned down to investigate the remains of the fire. “Did these rocks always look like this?” He studied the rocks which were now a shiny black with veins of different colors running all along them.

            “I thought they were just chunks of gray rock before,” Dwayne answered uncertainly. “I think I would have paid more attention to them if they looked like this – magic rocks. Don’t touch them!”

            Patrick had laid a hand carefully on one of the rocks. “It’s cold,” he said, surprised. He went back to check the chest again, which had somehow escaped the flames. He ran his hand around inside, looking for anything he might have missed before. He stopped when he felt his hand brush against something attached to the inside of the lid. Pulling it out, he saw that it was an envelope.

            The paper was nearly disintegrating with age as Patrick carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a note inside. He brought it closer to another lantern, so he could see it clearly. He read it out loud:

            To whoever finds this treasure chest,

            These are the last dragon eggs in existence. The leadership is planning to obliterate all memory that dragons ever existed. We were able to rescue these three eggs from the worldwide purge of dragons. Dragons and humans once worked together, but the war between us has brought us to this. We couldn’t bear to completely erase an intelligent species.

            If you’ve found this, you have a chance to correct the mistakes of the past. Dragons and humans can be friends again. It’s up to you. All you need to do is bathe the eggs in fire. Once they hatch, they will need someone to care for them.

            Please don’t make our same choices. It’s up to you.

            Signed,

Pierre the Explorer

            Silence followed the reading of the letter. All eyes were on the dragon eggs. The men shifted uncomfortably and Dwayne finally voiced what they were all thinking. “Are we really going to believe that letter?”

            “You saw the fire,” Patrick said solemnly. “I, for one, intend to see this through. Do you know what an amazing discovery this is? If nothing else we’ll be able to study something that no one else has seen for centuries. No wonder the stories about Pierre are all so mysterious.”

            “Well, we’ll leave that to you, then.” Dwayne turned back to the cave walls. “I think we should get a bunch of these gems to take back with us.”

            The crew eagerly started to mine the exposed gems. Patrick, however, stayed to look after the eggs. He lined the box with a few shirts to cushion the eggs. Reaching down, he went to pick one of them up.

            A loud CRACK rang out through the cavern. Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to the eggs as more CRACKs rang out, louder than the first.

            Patrick watched as one of the eggs exploded open, and a small blue dragon stretched and unfurled its wings.

            “I can’t believe it,” Dwayne said breathlessly.

            Two more dragons exploded out of their eggs, and Patrick thought he had never seen anything so beautiful. He looked up at the men around him with a grin and said, “We are the first to witness a dragon hatch in centuries. Let’s make better decisions about them than those who came before us.”

            From that moment, Patrick became an advocate for dragons. Many resisted the idea of dragons at first, but Patrick used his wealth and influence to protect and raise the dragons. They had harvested so many gems, that Patrick had no lack of funds. He went down in history as the man who reintroduced dragons to our world.