I Wish I May

I WISH I MAY

by David Stahler Jr.

Copyright 2013 David Stahler Jr.

Smashwords Edition

Cover art by phatpuppyart.com

Cover typography by Ellen Levitt

Discover other titles by David Stahler Jr. at The Accidental Novelist

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For sweet William

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Explore Truesight

Chapter One

Once upon a time, there was a twelve-year-old boy named Thurston Pickering who, through his own innocence, nearly destroyed the world. But, fortunately for us all, he ended up saving it instead, and this is the story of what happened.

It all started one weekend in June not long before the school year was about to end. Now, while everyone looks forward to summer vacation, Thurston looked forward to it more than most. In fact, probably more than anyone alive. And no one who knew poor Thurston could blame him for wanting to forget about school for a few months, for he had a terrible time of it.

It wasn’t that Thurston wasn’t smart. Actually, he was quite bright. And it wasn’t because he didn’t want any friends or was mean-spirited. Thurston wanted to be liked and was very kind. It just seemed that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get along with anybody. And the harder he tried, the worse things got and the less the other kids wanted to be around him. The boys rarely invited him to play with them, and the girls all made faces whenever he came near.

Even the teachers seemed to ignore him. This bothered him not only because he really wanted to do well in his classes, but also because, in Thurston’s mind at least, grown-ups should know better.

Well, maybe most do, but not Thurston’s teachers. Whenever one of them asked a question of the class, Thurston was never called upon unless no one else raised a hand. If teams were being put together for a special project, Thurston was always the last one to be assigned to a group, and often only after he reminded the teacher he’d been forgotten.

He thought at first that perhaps it was only because he was so much smaller than the other students, but even after he grew a few more inches, nothing changed. Maybe it was because he had a funny name or because he was from a different town. Whatever the reason, he hated it. It was almost like he was invisible. Sometimes Thurston felt like a ghost haunting the halls of the miserable school he’d attended since he first moved to the town two years ago, and he often thought it would be better to be shipwrecked on an island all by himself. It’s hard enough being lonely, but it’s even harder when you’re surrounded by other people.

Worst of all were the bullies. Unfortunately, they didn’t find him invisible at all. It seemed he couldn’t get by any of them without being noticed, which was exactly what happened before that first weekend in June I was just telling you about even got started.

Chapter Two

It was Friday afternoon and Thurston had just left the school yard. He’d gone only a little ways down the sidewalk when he heard a voice behind him.

Hey!

It was a boy’s voice, low and husky and permanently hoarse from too much yelling. It was Jason Bean’s voice, and unfortunately for Thurston, it was a familiar one.

At the sound, Thurston stopped dead in his tracks. For a second, he didn’t turn around. He just closed his eyes and tried to get his heart to stop racing.

He hated that word more than anything—that simple, one-syllable word that Jason Bean always hollered first—because he knew what was coming next. He hated even more the pause that followed, for it gave him plenty of time to feel the terror dropping into his stomach like a sharp stone. The fear wasn’t so bad once they started in; he was usually too preoccupied to notice.

Where are you going, Thirsty? the voice called out, closer now.

Thurston turned to see the four bullies stroll up to him. They all had the same look on their faces, that same grin of anticipation.

I said, Jason Bean hollered, louder now even though he was closer, where are you going, Thirsty?

Thirsty, Thirsty, Thirsty Chicken Wing! the other three chanted as they closed in and circled him.

That was their name for him. Thurston Pickering—Thirsty Chicken Wing. And every time they said it, they all looked at one another and laughed as if it was the cleverest thing they’d ever thought of. Which, I’m sorry to say, it probably was.

The bully next to Jason reached out and gave Thurston a sharp push, knocking him back a step.

Answer the question, Chicken Wing! he barked.

What question was that again? Thurston squeaked. He winced as soon as he said it because he knew just how it sounded. But he wasn’t trying to be a smart aleck. He’d been so distracted by his fear, he really had forgotten the question.

I said, the Bean boy growled, where—are—you—going?

Oh, Thurston replied.

That was another thing he hated about these bullies—they always asked him the most stupid questions, questions whose answers were so perfectly obvious he was never quite sure how to respond, which in turn only made him more nervous. Like right now, for example. Wasn’t it apparent where he was going?

The problem was that, as far as bullies went, Jason Bean and his friends were quite unimaginative, lacking the creativity that expert bullies are known for. At times, it made Thurston think back almost wistfully to the days of Billy Hood and his gang at Thurston’s old school. Now, those were real bullies. Their torments had a cunning that was almost artful. Still, Thurston supposed it didn’t matter—the end result was the same.

Well? shouted a third bully, behind him, giving him another shove.

Home, Thurston said. I’m going home.

Of course, as soon as he said it, he realized what was coming.

Not yet, Jason Bean sneered, and reached forward to grab him.

Thurston turned to run, but before he could take more than a step, the fourth bully caught him by the back of the shirt and hauled him in. The next thing he knew, he was being escorted down the sidewalk with two boys on either side.

As they continued away from the school, Thurston looked desperately up into the faces of the people passing by, hoping that someone might notice how uncomfortably out of place he appeared in the center of a bully sandwich. But no one did. He knew that all he had to do was holler out for help and he would likely be rescued, but as always, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. First of all, because it would make him feel cowardly—which was almost worse than anything the bullies would do to him—and second of all, because he knew that if he was rescued, it would only make Jason Bean and his friends even more mean next time.

And so he said nothing as they left the sidewalk and headed toward the alley between a mini-mart and a Laundromat. That, of course, was where the real bullying would take place.

* * *

Shut up, Jason Bean said after they’d reached the alley, even though Thurston hadn’t said a word.

One of the bullies snatched his backpack from his shoulder, unzipped it, and tipped it upside down, sending all of Thurston’s schoolbooks, notebooks, and papers—not to mention a comic book or two—cascading onto the ground.

Next, two of the bullies began throwing the books around, rifling through the notebooks, and tossing random papers into the air, so that they floated away in all possible directions.

But to be honest, Thurston didn’t really notice what was happening to the contents of his backpack. He was too preoccupied by Jason and the other bully, who, in the meantime, had started in on him with the usual assortment of noogies, wet willies, and titty twisters, all the while saying things such as You like that, Thirsty? You like that? How about that? and so on, thereby continuing their tradition of asking him questions whose answers were quite obvious.

This time, Thurston didn’t say anything. He just stood there and endured what felt more or less like being pecked at by two giant, squawking birds.

Hey, Bean, check it out, one of the bullies suddenly shouted, holding up an open notebook.

Jason, who was in the middle of giving Thurston a particularly wet wet willy, leaned forward and squinted at the page. Aw, looks like little Chicken Wing’s a real artist.

Thurston could see that the boy was holding up his drawing of Major Hero, the star of his favorite comic book. He’d spent all week working on the picture and had just finished it not more than