Middle School Menace

Middle School Menace

David Garland

Published by David Garland at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 David Garland

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1: A New Beginning

Chapter 2: Not Exactly as Planned

Chapter 3: What a Mess!

Chapter 4: Who’s in There?

Chapter 5: An Unexpected Occurrence

Chapter 6: A Plan Develops

Chapter 7: A New Locker; A New Plan

Chapter 8: Mrs. Shelby’s Help

Chapter 9: The Spirit is About to Speak

Chapter 10: Detective Work to do

Chapter 11: Dog Gone Dog

Chapter 12: What to do With a Bone

Chapter 13: Ethan on His Own

Chapter 14: Confrontation!

Chapter 15: Flashback

Chapter 16: That Felt Good

Chapter 17: Good-bye?

Chapter 18: Here We Go Again

About the Author

Prologue

Brutal. There was no other way to describe the cold and the wind that cut through Nathaniel’s clothes as if they were not there. Pain spread through his body with every gust and every step. The shoes on Nathaniel’s feet were frozen solid. They cracked with each step he took. His ears were burning as the wind relentlessly bit them.

Where was his family? Where was his house? He had lost sight of the house shortly after the snow began. He was not going to go home anyway. He was angry. His classmates had pushed him too far. He had had enough. And his parents…they did not seem to care at all. His dad said to toughen up. His mom said he just needed to be patient.

Then the snow began coming down harder. And the wind. He knew he had to get to shelter fast, but the driving snow and fierce wind made visibility almost nil. He was not going to go home. He would show them.

Trees ahead. Nathaniel could make out the shape of what looked like a grove of trees. He could make a shelter, maybe even make a fire. Step after painful step he trod through the thick grasses and snow that was piling up. Nathaniel pressed on. His fingers ached from the cold. He put them in his armpits to try to keep them warm. That was little comfort.

He started to feel a tear run from his eye. It froze on his cheek. He could not stop; he had to keep going. There was no time for crying. There was not time for pity. There was only time to survive. What started out as making a point to his parents had now changed into a matter of life and death. He had seen animals that had frozen to death from winter. They were not a pretty sight in the spring. He was not going to be one of those. Step by painful step he moved.

Nathaniel remembered his father showing him a deer that had not made it through the tough Michigan winter. The body was bloated and deformed. The eyes of the deer were open and covered with a white film. They seemed to strain to seek help but none could be found. It was a sad sight. He could only imagine what a person would look like.

Nathaniel knew he didn’t have much time to do it. He tried to run, but his legs stopped him. He let out a cry. The cry was not for sympathy. Instead, it was a cry of determination. He was not going to be winter kill, as his dad called it. He would survive. The trees were getting closer now but there was still a lot of work to do to make a shelter.

A final burst of energy carried Nathaniel to the first tree. It was a white pine, exactly what he wanted. The boughs were thick with needles and the branches low to the ground and easy to break off. These would make a good shelter from the wind. The dead branches on the bottom would make an easy and hot fire.

Nathaniel grabbed a branch. It took much determination to grab the branch; his fingers were stiff from the cold. With will power and strength he tore one branch off the tree, and then another. He found a sunken area near the tree and started to cover it with the branches. This would make a cave he could crawl inside, get out of the wind, and let him warm up… if he could get a fire started.

The work made him sweat and for the first time in hours Nathaniel felt warm inside. He felt a burst of energy and pulled the branches off with a renewed strength. He even found a smile creeping onto his face. A couple more branches and he felt he was finished. He took only a second to admire his work before he began breaking off small, dry twigs form the base of the pine trees around him. These twigs were excellent for starting a fire. They would burn quickly and give off a lot of heat if he could get them lit.

Nathaniel felt confident he had enough cover for his shelter and enough kindling to start a fire and warm him. He knew he would need more wood and larger, dry, pieces to keep a fire burning all night. He needed to get warm though. That was his first goal.

It felt good to be out of the wind. The work he had done had warmed him a bit. But now the sweat was his enemy. When sweat evaporates it causes the skin to cool. If there was one thing Nathaniel did not need, it was to be cooled. He was out of the wind, but he wasn’t out of the cold. The sweat was beginning to freeze on his clothes and make him cold all over again.

Fire! Nathaniel needed fire and fast. He began to stack the wood as his father had shown him. Quickly Nathaniel stacked the wood like a teepee. He scrounged around in the bottom of his burrow to find dry grasses and leaves to add as quick fuel for the fire. He found a stone and a bare, dry branch. He made a bed of dry grass under the branch and began to rub the stone quickly along the branch. He was beginning to feel the aches and pains of the cold. He realized he was shaking uncontrollably from the cold.

Nathaniel stopped rubbing the stick and felt it. At first he could not feel the heat from the stick; his fingers were too cold to feel. Ouch! he yelled as the warmth finally made it through the cold and he felt the heat. It was the first time Nathaniel had said anything out loud in several hours. The sound of his voice startled him almost as much as the feeling of heat. It filled the shelter but the wind carried it away as soon as it left his burrow.

Nathaniel continued to rub the stone on the stick faster and faster. He saw a wisp of smoke begin to rise. He pulled some of the dry grass closer to the smoke and blew softly at first, then harder and harder. In his excitement he found he was blowing too hard. He needed to think, he needed to concentrate, but the cold was grabbing hold of him again.

More rubbing, more blowing, more rubbing, more blowing and finally success. A small spark grabbed onto a blade of grass and became a small glow. Nathaniel blew softly on the baby fire hoping it would grow into a full grown fire. Slowly, ever so slowly, the fire began to spread. It grew into an infant and finally a full grown adult flame.

Nathaniel carefully moved the fire to the teepee of sticks. A couple soft breathes and the grass under the triangular stack of sticks ignited. A couple more soft breathes and the sticks began to glow and finally burn. Nathaniel felt the warmth of the fire on his face almost immediately. The heat began to surround his frozen nose and cheeks like a blanket. As the fire grew the heat cut through the cold like a knife. It warmed his features, biting through the numbness and releasing the ability to feel once again.

Slowly Nathaniel stacked more sticks on the fire. He wanted to be careful not to put out the fire. Too fast and the fire would be smothered; too slow and the fire would not have enough fuel and go out. As he stacked sticks on the fire his hands began to thaw. The warmth felt wonderful. He wanted his whole body to feel that good. As he stacked more sticks he curled his body as close to the fire as possible. He ruffed up some leaves and grass and made a pillow for his head.

Sleep started to creep into Nathaniel’s exhausted body. He hurt from the cold, the long walk and the work it took to create his burrow. No! he thought. He could not afford to sleep, not yet. He needed more firewood to keep the fire burning all night. But he couldn’t move. The warmth was soothing and comforting. It called to him with its tempting warmth. He looked at the wood. He did not have much left, but he had a little. Maybe a short nap, thought Nathaniel. He could afford to do that.

Nathaniel curled closer to the fire. The warmth covered him. The wind and cold were a distant memory. He removed his shoes and holey socks. He pulled his feet closer to the flames. He could feel his toes, his fingers, his ears. His clothes didn’t have frozen patches but instead were starting to dry. With that dryness the clothes again brought protection and comfort. An occasional burst of wind rustled the roof of his burrow giving him a reminder of the perils outside. Snow added insulation to the roof.

"More firewood…sleep…more firewood…sleep," the thoughts kept going through Nathaniel’s head. Sleep finally won out.

Chapter 1: A new beginning

The alarm clock sounded and Ethan shot up in bed. Mornings were not Ethan’s favorite time of the day. He didn’t like