Perhaps I Need to Look Again

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A rich and spoiled girl finds out the true meaning behind friendship, and perhaps love, in a remarkable journey to a place long lost.

Submitted: July 18, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 18, 2008



~Perhaps I Need To Look Again~

By Michelle

Chapter 1
Blessings Of The Music and Stars

The noises outside the tiny two-bedroom house were still going about, and a boy inside tossed fitfully in his sleep. The stars outside were twinkling, smiling at the world. It was comforting just to see them, and for that, he fell into a restless sleep.

Several states away, a pampered girl named Angela plugged in her earphones to her Ipod. It was too, a restless night for her, but she had other ways to lull herself to fall asleep. As the opening notes of her favorite song flew by, she closed her eyes and didn’t open them again.

“Beep beep beep,” the diamond studded alarm clock on Angela’s night table shuddered.

“Morning Angela,” her mother, Elizabeth Anderson sang. Ms. Anderson was an accomplished fashion designer in New York City. Having raised Angela without a father, she spoiled her like crazy. She wasn’t often home, being busy with Runway, her enterprise. So Angela got anything she wanted, anytime. “Hurry or you’ll be late for school!”

Angela groaned inwardly but got up. Angela attended the most expensive private school in New York, but she just couldn’t seem to scrape a good grade.

“Coming, coming,” Angela muttered.

“I’ve already laid out your outfit, get dressed and Chessie will get you your breakfast. I got to run, emergency meeting in half an hour and the traffic’s growing,” Ms. Anderson said on the way out. “Remember your lunch!”

“I will,” Angela said in a muffled voice.
Chapter 2
Life’s Hard to Deal With

In Wisconsin, a boy named Casey James got his books out of his locker. First period was starting in 10 minutes and he didn’t want to be late for Mrs. Wayne’s class. They were learning about the Holocaust, and Casey got really good grades. His teachers were always saying that he was gifted or something. But for Casey, life was rough. He had lived with his grandmother since he was two months old, both his parents having died from a car crash. His grandmother barely scraped enough money for the food and house rent, so they couldn’t afford the luxuries of life. Nonetheless, Casey loved his Grandmother.

Chapter 3
An Unexpected Surprise

Angela played around with the strap of her satchel as she rode to school in her chauffeured limo.

“Your stop, Ms. Anderson,” her chauffeur said politely.

Angela stepped out. The sunshine streamed into her healthy face. Angela never enjoyed school. Her mother had always tried to feel better at school, making special arrangements, like a new outfit each day, and her very own lunch table. But school wasn’t fun without someone to share these things with. Angela never had any friends. People that tried to get close to her were all people who wanted something to do with her mother’s wealth.

Angela walked to her first classroom, hesitating whether to open the door. There, everyone would just treat her nicely and then ask for something. No, she was better off not going to school at all. Angela turned and ran home.

But all was empty. All the furniture was gone. Her mother had gone. Chessie, the butlers, the maids all had disappeared like thin air. Only a single solitary envelope was left on the bare white floor. Not believing the scene before her, Angela cried out,

“Mom! Chessie! Come out! It’s not funny, I know you’re hiding!”

The house answered with a silence of sadness. Tears blurred Angela’s eyes. She picked up the envelope and out fell a letter and a key. She bent down and picked them up.

Dear Angela,

Runway has lost its money. We signed a contract and it had problems. Don’t worry; I’ve gone with Chessie to take care of everything. We’ve sold our house so you’ll need to travel to Wisconsin. We own a nice mansion there. I’ve enclosed the key. Take care of yourself. Love, Mom

Angela collapsed in a heap on the floor. First came disbelief, then reality. She cried till she had no more tears to shed. The hard shape of the key pressed into her skin. I have to get to Wisconsin, she thought. There’s nothing here for me anymore.

Chapter 4
The Storybook Barn

The farm Casey lived in was spacious, but not the rich type. It was more like the chickens and cows type. Casey’s grandmother had lots of animals. But selling their produce at the market wasn’t such a money-spinner. Each day, before school, Casey would always milk the cows and feed the chickens. It was as natural to him as brushing our teeth is to us. Casey and his grandmother lived in a very small red house by the barn. Their house often smelled of animals, but Casey loved living there. It was like the place had come straight out of a storybook.

Chapter 5
Angela’s Make-Believe Mansion

Where is number 13 WhicketyWick Drive? Thought Angela. How am I supposed to know?

Angela was standing in what looked like the middle of nowhere. She had taken her gold platinum credit card and spent a small fortune on plane tickets- to this place!

This is like searching for a pin in a haystack, she thought.

Suddenly a red-haired boy came up the road yawning.

“Hey,” Angela ran up to the boy, careful not to tread on her new shiny shoes. “Can you help me?”

The boy stopped short.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m looking for a mansion around on WhicketyWick Drive,” Angela asked hesitantly. “Maybe you can help me?”

“Mansion?” the boy clapped his hand to his mouth, but Angela thought she heard a few chuckles escape.

“Look,” said Angela, annoyed. “Just stop this wise-guy business and we can get rolling.”

“You said you were looking for a mansion? Well, good luck!” said the boy, chortling.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to help me? I’m NEW here!!!” Angela yelled after his retreating back.

The boy turned around. Angela could see a guilty conscience on his face.

“Ok, I’ll do this much. What’s your address?” the boy inquired.

“Number 13 WhicketyWick Drive,” Angela said, relieved help was underway.

“Say what?” the boy asked in a bored tone.

“Number 13 WhicketyWick Drive,” Angela repeated.

“Are you sure?” the boy’s forehead crinkled in a frown.

“Duh, here’s the key,” Angela said, holding out the rusty key.

The boy took it and it was a full minute before he spoke.

“I don’t know how you got this, but people already live there,” the boy said with a stony face.

“I don’t believe it. Take me there. I’ll try the key,” said Angela, tilting her chin.

“Whatever,” the boy said with a shrug.

With that, he set off at a brisk pace. Angela had to work hard to catch up to him. They entered an abandoned road with vines growing all over the place. There, smack dab in the middle of the road, was a gate that looked like it was last painted about ten years ago. A letter J was engraved on the top most part.

Angela held her head high as she inserted the key. Click! The gate slowly turned open.

“I told you!” Angela crowed triumphantly.

But the boy didn’t seem to have heard her. His mouth had fallen open in a perfectly comical O.

Angela marched right in. But what was on the hills wasn’t at all what she expected. Her mouth also fell open. A small cottage and an ugly red barn were nestled on the hill.

“A mansion, eh?” the boy snickered.

Angela ignored him and walked in the house with the boy hot on her heels. There was an old lady sitting on the sofa knitting.

“Get out! This is my house!” Angela said loudly.

“She’s just kidding, Grandma,” the boy had appeared behind her.

“You live here?” Angela turned around, astonished. “In this dump?”

The boy’s face turned red. “It is not a dump!”

“Is this your friend, Casey?” the old lady asked.

So his name was Casey! Angela thought.

“Yes Grandma,” Casey said, grinding Angela’s toes.

“He’s LYING!!!!” Angela yelled, yanking her feet away.

“Bicker outside, children,” Casey’s grandma said.

“Yes grandma,” Casey said, grabbing Angela’s arm and pulling her outside.

“Let go!” said Angela threateningly.

“I can’t believe you. How did you get that key?” Casey asked angrily.

“None of your business,” Angela said loftily.

“This is my house. I have the paperwork,” Casey spat.

“You’re too young to own a house,” Angela continued in the same tone.

You’re too young to own a key!” Casey countered.

“I don’t care!” said Angela, frustrated. Why are guys so stupid nowadays? She thought.

“I don’t care!” Casey mimicked.

Angela glared at him. Boys were so insanely annoying.

But Casey glared right back. Girls, he thought, I’m glad I don’t have any sisters!

“What’s the racket out here?” Casey’s grandmother peered out owlishly.

She claims she owns the house!” Casey accused.

“Oh no you don’t lassie,” Casey’s Grandma frowned. “I have the signed paperwork.”

I have the key,” said Angela in a very superior way.

“I can show you the documents if you want, gal. But mark my words, I ain't got all day. I’m a busy woman,” Grandma said in the same tone. “ Either that, or I’ll report you to the police for property problems.”

“Grandma Sophie, isn’t that a little extreme? Why don’t we let her stay for a night or two?” Casey asked.

“Only under one condition: that she pays $10 each night she stays,” Grandma Sophie said, obviously pleased with her idea.

“$10? I own-“ Angela paused. This seemed like the best deal she would get out of the cranky old lady. “Ok. $10 per night.”

“Let Casey show you around,” said Grandma Sophie. “And don’t lag!”

“I don’t need your help,” said Angela after Grandma Sophie had left.

“Yeah, I’m sure you can find the room on your own,” Casey said sarcastically.

“It’s a teeny weenie house,” Angela retorted.

She stomped up the stairs with her silver purse swinging.
There were only three doors in the upstairs, and the corridor was awfully narrow.

Someone could use some redecorating, she thought.
She pushed open the door to her left. The room looked like its owner had tried to make it cheery but failed miserably. Its walls had been painted a peeling red and the covers of the creaky old bed were faded and old. Five wooden carved letters were sitting on the tidy bookshelf. Angela leaned closer for a better look.
"C-A-S-E-Y," Angela muttered slowly. "That spells...Casey!"
"Ahhh!" Angela tripped over the dusty carpet. She was in Casey's room?
"Well, that's just perfect," Angela murmured.
Slowly, her face fell from concern to a sad smile.
Sitting on Casey's shelf was also a picture of a man and a woman embracing a baby. On the frame was embedded the flowing script;
Love Makes The World Go Round. From: Mom and Dad To: Casey James. Spring 1995.
"That's beautiful," she whispered.
"What are you doing?" asked a harsh voice.
Angela whipped around, frame in hand. It was Casey.
"Hey, that's mine!" Casey came over and snatched the photo frame out of her hands.
"Where are your parents?" asked Angela quietly.
Casey turned away. "Dead. Both died in a car crash when I was born," he said stiffly.
"You've lived here ever since?"
"Yeah," Casey sighed.
"Don't you...miss them?" Angela asked hesitantly.
"Got used to it. Never met them anyways," Casey said abruptly.
"I can understand," Angela smiled sadly. " I grew up without a father too. My mother married and divorced a total of four times all with different men. The strange thing is, she never had any children except me."
Casey leaned against the wall.

“Sometimes I think about them, but I can’t remember a thing. You’re lucky you knew a mother.” Casey said in undertone.

“My mother is hardly a mother. She owns Runway, a fashion boutique. She’s always at meetings or press conferences. I was always closer to Chessie. She’s our cook.” Angela said consolingly.

“Your mom owns Runway? Then how come you came to such a…unfabulous place?” Casey asked with wide eyes.

Angela laughed. “To make a long story short, Runway had problems. So my mother threw me away in this god-forsaken place. Now that I think of it, she never cared about my feelings.”

Casey was quiet. He looked at his feet.

“I was always jealous of you ever since the start,” Angela continued. “You had a grandmother that cared about you, unlike someone I know.”

“I never thought about it like that,” Casey said slowly.

“There’s always two sides to a story,” Angela said wisely.

“Casey! Get down here, boy!” Grandma Sophie called from downstairs.

“Your bedroom’s next door. Get some rest!” Casey said before he left.

Maybe there’s another side to his story too, Angela thought. I mean, he was so cruel earlier this day and now he’s a completely different person.

Angela was still deep in thought by the time she laid down for bed.

Chapter 6
Hey-ho, It’s a Farmer’s Life To Be

“Cock-a-doodle-doo,” the flaming red rooster called when the first ray of light shone on the James farm.

Casey jumped down the stairs two at a time.

“Morning Grandma Sophie. Where’s Angela?” he called.

“Who’s Angela?” Grandma Sophie looked up from flipping the golden brown pancakes.

“Never mind. Those pancakes sure look good, grandma!” Casey sniffed the air.

“They’re the Grandma Sophie specialty pancakes with fresh maple syrup,” Grandma Sophie said with a smile.

“Yum,” said Casey, taking a stack. “ I’m eating out back, Grandma! I’ve got work to do!”

“That’s my boy!” Grandma called after him.

Casey walked out to the stables. The James family owned four horses. Delilah, Macadamia, Zantaran, and Nate. Delilah and Macadamia were both mares. Zantaran was a black horse. He always stood proudly. Nate was the runt of the four. His coat was a shiny chestnut. Casey especially liked Nate. When he was young, he had saved Nate to be sold to the town butcher. His grandmother had thought him crazy to want the smallest one when he could have strong Zantaran, but Casey thought Nate was like him, in a way. They both were small, and meek. That way, they both related to each other.

Casey grabbed the saddle and prepared to round up the cows with Nate. Nate was an expert at rounding loose cows. The two worked as a team almost heartlessly, and the job was done in only a few minutes. He saddled Nate and pulled on the reins to signal Nate to move forward.

“Casey! Wait for me!” Angela ran over to him, tripping over the sharp rocks.“What’s up?” Casey asked with concern when Angela had finally succeeded in reaching him.

“Your grandma told me to bring the bacon and scrambled eggs to you,” she panted.

Casey frowned. “Didn’t she know that I’m working?”

“Oh, whatever!” Angela shoved the piled plate towards him. “I’m not going back without a empty plate!”

Casey sighed but relented from arguing. He tied Nate’s reins to a tree and sat down.

“Do you do this stuff everyday?” Angela asked as she passed him a napkin.

“Every single day,” Casey said while shoveling food in his mouth.

“Now that is what I call child labor,” Angela said, frowning.

“It’s not that bad, really. I can teach you, if you want. Besides, you have nothing else to do,” Casey said, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

Angela’s face brightened. “That’s true, I guess. I would be bored to death. Just promise you don’t work me to death.”

“Deal!” Casey stood up and brushed the crumbs off his jeans. “Here, let’s go in the stables. You can ride Delilah because she’s more gentle.”

“Whoa, slow down there, buddy. Who said I was bad at horseback riding? Before I landed here, I took equestrian classes every week!” Angela said earnestly.

Casey rolled his eyes. “Whatever that is. I was just trying to make it a little easier, friend. Have you ever been rounding cows?”

Angela wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t that what people did in the stone ages?”

“It’s what you call child labor!” Casey joked.

“Well, whatever. It’s bound to be easy,” Angela said confidently.

“Sure…” Casey led the way into the stalls. “Pick your horse.”

Angela looked around for a minute.

“I only ride prize bred horses,” she said decisively.

“What? That is so ridiculous. You’re just scared of these horses,” Casey accused.

“Are not! My trainer says I have good balance but horses take a while to get used to me. That’s why I only ride thoroughbreds.” Angela argued.

“I can’t believe you actually listen to that junk. It depends on the rider if to let the horse be in control or not,” Casey said angrily.

“How are you such an expert?” Angela asked hotly.

“Look, let’s stop fighting. You pick a horse. If you’re so great, like you bragged, you can ride it!” Casey replied.

Angela stuck out her tongue. “Fine. I don’t care. But if I die, my spirit will come back and haunt you forever.”

Casey decided not to comment on that. Angela opened the stall door to Macadamia and slipped her saddle over her. She pulled the reins and walked out with Casey right behind her.

Casey untied Nate and mounted while Angela did the same.

“So you’ll have to take the perimeter of the field and close in,” Casey said.

“Sure,” Angela said, but Casey could see that in her eyes she was maybe the teeniest bit nervous.

Casey rode forward and looped around the cows that were grazing. Angela followed right behind him. He had gotten three cows when he saw that Macadamia had gone wild. Poor Angela was almost off the saddle but she clung on for dear life. Casey raced over. Boy, was he an idiot. He had almost forgot that Macadamia was scared-of lightning. A thunderclap followed after the streak of light. Macadamia bolted for the woods with Angela hanging on. It was pouring. People that had more sense than Casey would have known that horses came back on their own, but Casey had Nate gallop after them.

It was a wild goose chase in the woods. Like Angela would have said, it was like looking for a pin in a haystack. But Casey, drenched from head to toe, was determined to find Angela. He couldn’t just leave her in the cold, biting rain. It was his entire fault he had dragged her into rounding cows. It was also his fault he forgot to warn her about Macadamia’s phobia. So Casey plunged on recklessly, deeper and deeper inside the dark and unfriendly forest.

Meanwhile, Macadamia had slowed down. Angela was hunched on her back, and she was sure scared. There seemed to be foxes lurking at every corner, and spiders in every log. She wanted nothing but to see someone, anyone! She would even pass if Casey showed up right now.

It’s not his fault I got scared, she reasoned. I accidentally pulled too hard on Macadamia’s reins. He isn’t scared of lightning. At least I don’t think so.

She pulled her shawl closer and closed her eyes. Oh, how she wished this all was a dream. Runway’s problems, meeting Casey, the James farm, everything. But did she? Did she really want to forget Casey? Grandma Sophie? Bacon and scrambled eggs? Why are you thinking such things, Angela? You would rather be lying in bed typing emails on your laptop! Angela sighed. But the question is, to whom? I have no friends. No, scratch that. The only friend I ever had was probably…even as I hated to say it, Casey. He was the only person that dared start a fight with me. He was nice to me. He was what made James Farm seem so much like home. Ever since the start.

“Idiot! What are you doing sitting in the rain?” came a very familiar voice.

Angela opened her eyes. There, in front of her, was Casey, grinning widely.

Angela closed her eyes. She was dreaming again!

“Gee, I don’t have all day, buddy. The rain isn’t stopping, so we better go find shelter.” came that voice again.

Angela’s eyes snapped open. Casey was still there. She dismounted and walked ever to Casey, hand outstretched. She touched his arm, expecting to touch thin air. But she was pleasantly surprised.

“You’re real!” Angela whispered.

“Did you think I was a ghost?” chuckled Casey. “This rain has really brainwashed you. Let’s go, or we’re going to get a cold standing here.”

Angela smiled the first time in hours. “Let’s go then!”

The foursome set out in search of a shelter. They walked a short while before Casey found a cave. They all went in carefully.

“Not too deep, or we’ll get lost,” Casey cautioned. “Ever read the story, The Adventures Of Tom Sawyer?”

“Wasn’t listening when the teacher assigned it,” Angela said in a very carefree way.

“Well, there’s this part where Becky Thatcher and Tom get lost in a cave. They were almost killed by Injun Joe!” Casey said enthusiastically.

Angela had to smile at this weak attempt to take their mind off things. “Did they get out?”

Casey threw his hands up in mock exasperation. “Well, of course! What do you expect from stories anyway?”

Angela laughed. “That the princess rides away with the prince in the sunset and lives happily ever after.”

“That wouldn’t be too bad if it were applied to real life,” Casey sighed.

“Nah, that would take all the fun out of life,” Angela smiled.

Casey straightened up. “Really? How?”

“Like getting lost in this place. In New York, the best adventure I was in was when the elevator got stuck for like, ten seconds.” Angela said wistfully.

“What’s a elevator?” Casey asked curiously.

Angela stared at him in shock. “You’ve never heard of an elevator?” When Casey shook his head she continued. “Well, it lifts you up in a glass and iron…box, I guess.”

“With gas?” Casey asked.

“No, with ropes,” Angela said, laughing.

“I don’t get it. But hey, the rain’s stopped,” Casey said with a broad smile.

Angela stood up. “Let’s go! Maybe Grandma Sophie has some extra pancakes left!”

Chapter 7
Parting Is Sweet Sorrow

"I was so worried about you two," Grandma Sophie scolded in the morning while both Casey and Angela wolfed down their much-needed breakfast. "You should have known better, both of you. Almost getting lost in the forest. I don't know what to do with you two."
"Yes Grandma Sophie," Casey and Angela said in unison.
"Now," said Grandma Sophie in a softer tone. "I have decided your punishments. Feeding the chickens. That's what my mother always made me do. Now get to it!"
"What's so scary about feeding chickens?" Angela asked when Grandma Sophie was out of earshot.
Casey shivered. "You'll see."
When they reached the hen house, Angela thought this all was ridiculous. These chickens were harmless as a yarn ball. Casey handed her a bucket of dried corn.
"Just spread it around," was all he said.
Angela climbed in the pen. She didn't notice that Casey was still standing by the side of the pen, watching her warily. She started to throw the corn around. She also didn't notice a flaming red rooster that had come waddling over.
"Ow!" Angela yelped as the rooster pecked her on her leg. "Ow!" She spilled the entire bucket and kicked the rooster hard.
The rooster chirruped indignantly but reluctantly stepped away.
Angela turned around to face Casey. " Did you see that?" she wailed. "Now I have a cut. And it could be infected!"
Casey laughed. "That's a first. I think he was more injured than you."
Angela looked around to see that the rooster, who had such a proud stand, was now looking scared and afraid of Angela. "Someone has to show him whose boss sometime."
"I guess you are," Casey smiled. "Don't worry about that cut. I snatched a batch of peroxide when Grandma Sophie wasn't looking. She thinks we have to bear the pain, but I found out a long time ago where she keeps her cures."
"Some punishment," Angela grumbled. "She never cared about the scabs you got from that rooster?"
"She said I deserved it," Casey smiled with nostalgia.
"She's an evil old witch," Angela joked.
"Angela! You're here!" screamed a voice Angela had dreamt so much about.
Angela turned around, fast as lightning. It was her mother and Chessie.
Her mom ran over to her, tears falling.
"I looked all over for you, I thought you were...gone! Oh, Angela, everything’s' fine, you can come back now!" her mom sobbed.
"I-I- don't-" Angela stammered.
Her mother wiped her tears and stood back to get a better look of Angela. "Oh, my! You're undernourished! What have you been eating?"
"Um...stuff," Angela said, tongue-tied.
"Oh," Chessie smiled. "When we get home I'll make you a meal with everything in it!"
"No, really, I don't need it," Angela smiled with tears glistening in her eyes. "I've missed you guys so much!"
Her mom pulled her into a hug. Angela didn't notice Casey had already gone.
"I'll go back with you," Angela grinned.

Chapter 8
Casey To Times Square

Casey threw his baseball towards his bedroom door. So what about Angela? He always knew that on day she would have to go back. Besides, she probably hated rural life anyways. But then he remembered how she kicked the rooster this morning. Maybe she actually liked the James farm, he thought.
Casey got up from the icy floor. If he wanted to ask Angela what she really wanted, he would have to go, fast. He raced out the house but he was already too late. The silver Rolls Royce rolled away smoothly. Casey knew it would be utterly pointless to chase after them on foot. He had half mind to run back to the stables and saddle up good old Nate, but it would take too long.
"Where's that girl, what's her name, erm, Angela?" Grandma Sophie had appeared behind him. "How about that punishment, eh?"
"She's gone," Casey said, his eyes closed. "She left."
"Left? Left without finishing her penalty? And where's the missy gone?" Grandma Sophie asked angrily.
"She's not coming back, Grandma," Casey said, his eyes seeming far away.
"Why? Where's she?" Grandma Sophie snapped.
"She left with her mom to New York," Casey said quietly.
"New York? Now, bless me, where's that?" Grandma Sophie asked. “I want her here by tomorrow, and no less, or she’s getting a whipping!”

“Grandma, she is not coming back,” Casey said in mild exasperation.

“Well, we’ll go and get her, boy,” Grandma Sophie said determinedly. “No gal is getting away from me without finishing her punishment.”

With that, Grandma Sophie hitched up her skirt and walked, head held high, to the house leaving Casey standing dazed. When he recovered, he ran toward his grandmother.

“Grandma Sophie, we can’t just go to New York, it costs money,” Casey warned.

“Of course we’re going. In fifteen years, you haven’t laughed as much as you did in the past few days.” Grandma smiled. “That girl kind of reminded me of your mother. She was never afraid to say anything!”

“Grandma-“ Casey began.

“Don’t you grandma me, son. We can afford it. Besides, wouldn’t you like to know what an elevator was?”

Casey looked at his grandmother, wondering how in the world did she know about that. But his grandmother just winked.

The next morning, Casey and Grandma Sophie had packed everything they needed. They were ready to get in the glamour of the city. Grandma had called a yellow taxi. She had told Casey there were plenty of these in the city, and they had better get used to it.

“Beep!” the cab had arrived.
“Let’s go, Casey,” Grandma said with anticipation.

“Here, grandma, let me help you with that,” Casey leaned over and grabbed his grandmother’s suitcases.

“Thanks, son,” Grandma said while getting inside the taxi. “We’re off to New York!”

The taxi took the three of them into places that Casey had never dreamed of. His life had only existed in the town and the gates and surrounded James Farm. They rode past more modern towns and Casey could see more modern devices. It all seemed as if he were inside a foreign country. Which in a way, it was. Casey was glad he had brought a little bit of home with him. His photo frame was tucked in his suitcase. Without it, he was sure he would be lost.

After a mystical ride, they arrived at the airport. Casey was bewildered beyond his dreams. Long silver things were flying- in the sky! It was amazing!

“My, my, those don’t look very safe,” Grandma Sophie said with a frown. “ In my days, we had ships full of people.”

“It’s like magic,” Casey whispered.
“Flight 74 please board,” came the loudspeaker.

“That’s us,” said Grandma, squinting at the tickets. “Old Professor Dramgals had bought these tickets for me. He’s a little keen on hearing, so let’s hope we don’t end up in California.”

The two of them quickly walked towards the entrance. They boarded the plane, and they were off.

Wait for me, Angela. I’m coming, Casey thought.

Chapter 9
Perhaps I Need To Look Again

Angela almost gasped when they rode into the place she used live in. It had turned much more elaborate and beautiful.

“How did you get…this?” she managed to choke.

“A friend fixed it for me,” her mom said smoothly. “Now, get in the house. I have a great surprise.”

Angela walked cautiously in. New York was like a tiger that was ready to pounce. Except you didn’t know when.

“I’ll have to say,” Chessie smiled. “I think you changed. You used to be so whatever, and now you’re so touchy.”

Angela rolled her eyes. “How’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Chessie stepped closer and regarded her. “It’s like you are someone else. I mean, you got scared of the redecorated house.”

Angela bit her lip. Had she really changed? Meeting Casey had changed me. Into someone who was aware of the people that don’t have what I have. That’s right. I’m different. But not that different.

“Well, just a comment,” Chessie left into the kitchen.

Angela frowned and walked into what was her room. Except it seemed all so far away. Such a long time ago.

“Angela! The surprise is down here!” her mom called.

“Ok! Coming!” Angela called back. She hurried down the wide steps. They didn’t make her feel better. Instead, all she thought about was about how the James house had a very narrow corridor and tiny steps. It’s not fair, she thought. How come we have so much and they so little? I would give anything just to see Casey now. Angela smiled at the thought. If he were here, he would probably crack some joke about, what was it, yes, the Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher story. Just to see my smile.

“Angela!” her mom called again.

Angela awoke from her dream. “What’s the surprise?” she asked as she appeared in the doorway of the living room.

“Angela, meet David,” Ms. Anderson beamed. “He’s my fiancé.”

Behind her stood a man who looked like a rock star. Angela wanted to scream.

“Mom! You can’t get married! It’ll ruin everything!” Angela yelled.

“Angela! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, young lady. Apologize, then go to your room,” Ms. Anderson scolded.

“There’s no need for that, Liz,” David said consolingly. “I expect Angela’s just a little shocked. I’d be surprised if she didn’t act that way.”

“I’m not shocked!!!! Angela screamed. &

© Copyright 2018 skigirlmichelle. All rights reserved.

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Other Content by skigirlmichelle

Graffiti Chapter 1

Book / Action and Adventure

Perhaps I Need to Look Again

Short Story / Literary Fiction

Perhaps I Need to Look Again 2

Short Story / Literary Fiction

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