Part of the children's collection of book including "Lost." A book for children and all 12 and up.
This novel takes the reader on a wild ride into a mind-altering experience, the life hereafter, and a realization that everyone's life has meaning and a purpose. The plot takes the reader on a rollercoaster ride with spellbinding twists and life threatening turns. You will love this book!! This easy reading and free-flowing book is destined to become a hit with all readers 12 and up!!! Start reading it today! If you loved Jessie Simpson's "Lost," you'll love "Found."
Excerpt
Chapter One
Before pushing off, Scotty did just what his mother had always told
him—he looked both ways. First, he looked to his right and then to his left.
Seeing no cars, he scooted faster and faster until he began gaining speed.
When he was traveling fast enough, he placed his left foot on the tail of the
skateboard and applying just enough pressure at the precise moment, he
lifted the board off the concrete parking lot surface.
Flying in the air, Scotty watched as the landscape under him flashed by.
Under him the ground transformed from cement to grass to blacktop. Still in
flight, he cleared a protruding car stop before making a perfect landing
between two parked cars. He barely missed the cars and came to a perfect
stop.
With his landing accomplished, Scotty sharply turned his board and
popped it upward before catching it in the air—his final trick for his
audience.
Scotty was street skating at the place the local gang of skaters called “the
McDonald’s Gap” an obstacle dubbed as “the best skating jump in the area.”
All of the skaters thought so—the place was featured on every local
skateboard video that was ever created. It was the best! Some professional
skaters had even skated the place. John had seen Pro Skater, Steve Getz
jumping the gap in his latest commercial skateboarding video. Up and
coming talent were always visiting. It was no wonder the gang was here
today filming.
John had followed Scotty’s every move—the entire run from start to
finish with the camcorder rolling. John considered Scotty’s maneuver as one
of the best he’d ever seen, nevertheless filmed. Of all of the skating runs
over gaps, nothing could compare to this.
Karen also saw the greatness of his ride. Impressed, she made it a point
to tell the boy.
“Awesome jump, dude,” she yelled commending Scotty. “The best! It
was the best ride I’ve ever seen!”
The spunky little girl waited for his response to her praise, but he didn’t
respond. It seemed strange that the boy that had an infatuation for the
beautiful petite blonde ignored her. He was always vying for her attention
and now he even denied her a polite acknowledgement to her compliment.
His rejection didn’t faze the girl, shrugging it off to modesty. Scotty’s
focus was concentrated upon the video recording his friend was creating.
Had John captured his once in a lifetime skateboard run on digital film?
Scotty was anxious to see it for himself. Thinking of nothing else, he rushed
toward John.
He’d been hamming it up. He knew he’d done well. It was a perfect
jump. He had great distance, and the landing was smooth and clean. Even
his finale was executed with precision.
Now it all rested with John—the cameraman! Did the amateur
photographer flawlessly follow his every move? Was the recording free
flowing and smooth? Scotty had to see!
Within seconds, Scotty was by John’s side, impatiently waiting to see
the results. Scotty watched as John finished rewinding the recording. He
gazed upon his image. A crescendo of movement, both watched as the
footage of the skateboarder traveled frame by frame backwards on the small
screen. It was a perfect portrait of a skater and his skateboard, sailing
backwards fluttering by, holding air until finally landing and coming to a
stop.
The recording was at the beginning now, paused and ready to play.
“Come see this,” John encouraged the girls of the gang. “It has got to
be the best!”
Karen and Shelby accepted his offer and joined the boys already
viewing the camcorder’s display screen. Sandwiched between them, they
viewed the skating sequence intently.
While observing the visual production, Karen adjusted the earphones
connected to her pink I-Pod supplying a musical background to the visual
stimulation. With the picture running, her favorite song, a hit by Kelly
Clarkson seemed to provide the perfect background to the skating sequence.
The lyrics blended perfectly.
“…I’ll spread my wings and learn how to fly, I’ll do what it takes ‘til I
touch the sky, now make a wish, take a chance, make a change, and break
away,” she heard.
To Karen, Scotty had taken a chance. He’d spread his wings and had
flown. He had touched the sky. This was his happiness—the ultimate
experience—street skating, undeterred by the signs prohibiting loitering,
trespassing, and skateboarding. Skating in forbidden places and the risk of
getting caught was part of the fun.
Karen was unaware, but she would soon find the final words of the song
becoming very relevant. In a twinkling of an eye, they would all be forced
to “break away!”
After it was over, Scotty gave John a pat on the back.
“You did a super job filming that bro! He uttered. “Real professional.”
“Your skating is what was outstanding,” John replied. “Now let’s see
what Karen can do!”
“You’re on girl!” Scotty directed. “Whenever your ready!”
It was Karen’s turn now. She positioned her board for the ride.
Just as she prepared to take off, some unwanted visitors appeared. It was
time for the “break away.”
The car pulled directly in Karen’s path. It was a patrol car. The blurting
sound of a siren and the flash of the blue light stopped the girl dead in her
tracks.
With a cry, John yelled the warning.
“Run, Cops!” he told everyone.
The gang of kids dispersed, taking off in every direction. Each
desperately attempting to flee.
The police officer pulled his car to a stop, flung open his door, and
jumped out of the vehicle. Before chasing them on foot, he scanned the
prey, looking for the weakest. Similar to a lion attacking a pack of antelope,
he chose the closest, the most vulnerable of the pack to hunt down.
Ironically, it was Scotty he’d singled out. Not because he was the smallest,
not because he was the weakest. The reason he selected Scotty was simple—
he was the closest and he had a dumbfounded look upon his face. It looked
as though he wasn’t even going to run. Scotty would be the easiest to
catch—no intense physical activity would be required. The officer reasoned
that all he needed was to catch one of the violators. The captor would lead
him to the others.
Although Scotty hesitated for a moment, he too decided to run. The
skateboard gave him a slight advantage over the man. That and the fact that
the officer was quite a few pounds overweight and had short running legs
enabled Scotty to speed ahead of him.
Scotty on the board, and the man on foot, didn’t seem a match. Scotty
was trucking, rapidly rolling toward the alley behind the gas station. He’d
already jumped the gap—this time even faster! He was leaving the officer in
a cloud of dust. The cop had selected the wrong kid. But the policeman was
locked into his decision.
All of the others were already out of sight. They’d scattered in every
direction darting into the wooded area behind McDonalds.
On the other hand, Scotty was all-alone—the only one in sight—the
sacrificial lamb. With the patrolman between him and the woods, Scotty had
selected the path less traveled. He was forced to take the long way to safety.
His pathway included an open stretch of asphalt between him and the
connecting woods his friends had already entered.
Scotty was certain he’d out run him. Even the cop was growing
discouraged, beginning to think he’d selected the wrong kid.
He was almost home free until he misjudged the location of the speed
bump positioned across the road. Installed to slow motorized vehicles, the
hump sticking out in the asphalt succeeded in stopping Scotty and his board.
Hitting the barrier, the board slid out from under the boy, forcing the
board to slide out from under him and sending his body slamming to the
street. Crashing hard, Scotty fumbled to get up. By the time Scotty gained
his footing to stand, the officer was upon him.
By acting as though he was going left and then proceeding to the right,
Scotty tried to fake out the cop. But his fake movement didn’t fool the
seasoned officer. In less than a second, he had Scotty firmly by his arm.
“I’ve got you son,” the fat husky little man announced. “Don’t try to get
away. I don’t want to have to handcuff you boy!”
Scotty realized he was trapped, the man was holding tight.
“Yes, sir,” Scotty blurted. “I’m coming, don’t be so rough.”
The pudgy officer was almost out of breath from the chase. His face was
flush—exhausted from his run. A few more steps and he would have been
forced to give up. Though he was tired, he refused to let up on the boy.
Innocently, trying to retrieve his skateboard, Scotty moved in its
direction, but his captor wouldn’t budge.
“I told you to come peacefully,” he warned. He spoke firmly as he began
jerking the boy along. He was knocking the boy around now. Manhandling
Scotty, unaware of the power of his strength and the force of his extra
weight over the kid.
“I just want my Skateboard,” Scotty said. “Please let me get my
skateboard!”
“No, way kid. You’ve lost that thing! Forget it,” the cop said. “It’s gone
forever! That will teach you!”
The officer was punishing him for the physical workout he’d undertaken.
“But, that’s my new deck,” Scotty begged.
The patrolman ignored his plea and continued dragging him in the
direction of the cruiser. His backup was waiting when they reached the
vehicle.
“Son, yaw don’t know what you’ve got yourself into,” the second deputy
said. “Do yaw know why we’re here?”
“I…do,” Scotty told him. This must be his “redneck partner,” Scotty was
thinking. Probably a member of the Klu Klux Klan, maybe even the grand
Marshall? At the very least, both men were members of the militia or some
other hate group—maybe a neo-Nazi type. His father had said that the
criminal justice system was full of those types. Being a cop gave credibility
to their deviant nature—a ticket to hate and abuse those unlike him under the
guise of the law.
“Do you have anything to say to us, maybe where your friends are?
“I don’t know.” He was frightened. His knees were beginning to shake.
His hand was trembling.
They were adult men, not accustomed to dealing with nonsense. Scotty
began to stammer. His heart was fluttering like a small-injured bird trapped
in his chest.
“Where are the others?” he repeated in a stern voice. “We know they’re
your friends,” the other cop lied.
“Tell us where they are and we’ll make it easier on you!”
Scotty felt the fingernails of the man piercing his skin as he made his
demand. Scotty could see the rage beginning to return, a violence beginning
to boil. It was visible in his eyes and exited through his arms. He again
began to push and shove at him. He was displaying an anger Scotty had
never experienced.
It was then Scotty Smith began to panic. Something was wrong with his
breathing. His lungs seemed to shut down. A wide winged bird, bigger than
an eagle rose up behind him and brought its wings down over him, shutting
out his vision and trying to stop his heart.
The detectives exchanged a quick fearstrucken glance. Their roles
quickly changed from “serve” to “protect.” They had pushed the boy too
far! After all he was only a child. Attempting to make the canary sing,
they’d squeezed too hard and broken its wing.
“Do you think the boy has asthma?” the second officer asked.
“Could be,” the first officer sounded. “He’s having a hard time
breathing, I’m calling for the medics!”
The Sheriffs Office had not arrested Scotty Smith. He had not been
handcuffed and placed forcefully into the patrol car and taken to the patrol
substation to be charged with a crime.
He did take a ride. In something he’d never expected. He rode in the
back of an ambulance. His name quickly changed to the name of his
friend—John. Except, his name was listed as John Doe. That’s the name
they first used to admit him into the hospital.
Princess Geneveive has a wonderful home, with humans who love her. She and her humans try to talk to each other but Genevierve dosn't speak human and her humans don't speak dog. Genevieve often wishes she had another dog to talk to.
One day in th
