Remember: The Adventures of Dooley Creed, #3
By Abby Rosser
()
About this ebook
Focus on the Object,
Sing a Sentimental Song, and Above All,
Do Not Forget!
Dooley Creed was a nobody in Boston. He thought he was even more of a nobody when his family moved to Peacock Valley, Minnesota. But Dooley Creed discovered he is something special. Dooley Creed has powers. And he is not the only one.
Dooley Creed has defeated a Valkyrie.
Dooley Creed has survived Summer Camp.
Now Dooley Creed must face the most daunting challenge of all time.
Dooley Creed is going to Middle School.
Dooley Creed is once again called upon to save the day!
But first Dooley must learn to:
Remember.
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Book preview
Remember - Abby Rosser
Remember
by
Abby Rosser
Published by WordCrafts Press
Copyright © 2020 Abby Rosser
Cover Design by Jonathan Grisham for Grisham Designs
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. 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, please return to your favorite online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Contents
1 – Dancing Shagamaw Boars
2 – First Day Jitters
3 - Skeeter
4 – Chow Wagon
5 – Nothing to See Here
6 – Ominous
7 – Whatsoever
8 – The Principal's Office
9 – Definitely Disappointed
10 – Below the Surface
11 – Juneberry Meadows
12 – Like Digging a Well
13 - I'll See You in My Dreams
14 – Reboot
15 – Eddie's
16 – Theo
17 – Specks & Mitts
18 – Jinxy
19 – The Long Jump
20 – Tiny Not Shiny
21 – Jasper
22 – Untying a Difficult Knot
23 - Visus Berries
24 – Invisible Ink
25 – Science Project Group
26 – Theo's Notebook
27 – Happy Friday
28 – The Accident
29 – Serenade
30 – Chocolate Chippers
31 – A Magic Button
32 – Lost Forever
33 - Rube Goldberg
34 – Welcome to Sherwood Forest
35 – Toil and Trouble
36 – Call in the Cavalry
37 – Twilight Sings a Song
38 – Pumpkin
39 – How the Cracker Crumbles
40 – I'll Hold You in My Dreams
Chapter Questions
About the Author
Dedication
For Nathan and Slade
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.
The Little Prince
Chapter 1
Dancing Shagamaw Boars
Dooley lay on his side , staring at his alarm clock while trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It was still hours until he needed to wake up, but he just couldn’t go back to sleep. He switched on the little lamp by his bed and opened the top drawer of his bedside table. After pulling out a letter from his friend Leo, Dooley sat up and read it again—the third time since he had found it in his mailbox, the envelope taped to a small package.
Dear Dooley,
Thanks for your letter. Sorry it’s taken me so long to write back. My mom signed me up for a pottery class, and it’s keeping me pretty busy. I sure miss everybody from Camp Pukwudgee. (Well, mostly everybody—you won’t catch me crying into my pillow because I don’t get to see Tristen!) Beryl has written me twice. She’s crazy about me, obviously, but can you blame her?
You’re lucky you live next door to Cyrano. I’d give anything to be around other kids like us (magically gifted superstars) more than just that one week at summer camp. I am definitely NOT looking forward to going back to school. My mom keeps telling me that 7th grade will be great because we finally get lockers. I told her that it’s a bad sign that lockers are the only good thing she can come up with about this year. I am planning to spend most of my free time in the art room.
Write me back when you start school. It will be interesting to see if schools here in Illinois are much different from your school in Minnesota. See you in 10 months!
Your friend,
Leonardo Rembrandt Johnson
P.S. I hope you like the bowl I made you. I call it Dancing Shagamaw Boars.
I have no idea what you should use it for—maybe loose change? Just make sure you take everything out of it before you give it a spin.
Dooley picked up the empty ceramic bowl from his bedside table. It easily fit in the palm of his hand. He held it under the lampshade, close to the light so that he could study the bowl’s fine details. The inside of the bowl was black, and the outside was painted in an ombre pattern of pinks and reds and oranges and yellows, like the progression of a sunrise. On the outside of the bowl, near the rim, Dooley saw a dozen brownish-black creatures standing on hind legs in a line. He could just make out their tiny ears, stubby tusks, and black snouts. Each of their black eyes was as small as a pinhead. They seemed to form a chorus line with their arms and legs all akimbo, every animal configured in a unique way.
Dooley set the bowl back and carefully removed a small, blue button—the only item he’d found which he deemed special enough to keep there. After placing the button on the edge of the table, he positioned a hand on either side of the bowl. He spun it clockwise and bent down to observe the creatures. The spinning motion made the animals seem to come alive, animated dancing on the fiery background like a scene from a cartoon. For a moment Dooley forgot about what was awaiting him that morning—his first day at J.J. Lawrence Middle School. Suddenly, a memory rose to the surface of his sleepy thoughts: a brilliant dawn standing with his friends around a flagpole as they watched a girl and a dog disappear in the rising sun’s rays.
Chapter 2
First Day Jitters
F inish your breakfast , Dooley.
Rose, Dooley’s mom, was writing something on a paper towel with a permanent marker. You’ve got plenty of time to eat. You don’t have to ride the bus this morning because I’ll be taking you to school.
Rose folded the paper towel twice and slid it into a brown sack with the peanut butter sandwich, chips, and banana Dooley would eat for lunch.
Dooley knew she had just put a note in his lunch, something she had been doing since his first day of kindergarten. That first one had just been a smiley face with hearts for eyes because he couldn’t read yet. Who knows what this note—this embarrassing display of motherly affection scribbled on a paper towel—would say? Dooley vowed to quietly dispose of the note without his mother knowing and before any new classmates could read it.
Can’t I just ride the bus?
he asked. I don’t want to be known as the kid whose mom walked him in on the first day of 7th grade.
Rose half smiled and narrowed her eyes at her only child. Okay, fine. How about this—I’ll park the car and let you go inside before me. Then I’ll count to 100 before I go in the office to turn in your papers from St. Bertha’s. If we see each other in the hall, we’ll just act like we’re total strangers.
All right.
Dooley stirred his now-mushy cereal with a spoon showing no desire to eat it.
Isn’t it nice not wearing a uniform anymore?
Rose asked without looking at Dooley as she flipped through a stack of school enrollment papers.
He looked down at his green Boston Celtics t-shirt and khaki shorts. I guess.
Dooley had never really minded the white polos and navy pants from his last school in Boston—Saint Bertha Academy. As long as his friends wore the same thing, what did it matter?
Rose was attempting to sign the bottom of one of the papers, but she was having a hard time getting any ink to come out of the pen she had grabbed from the counter. What’s the matter with this thing?
she said while shaking the heavy pen vigorously. Dooley watched as drops of blue-black ink splattered across the kitchen cabinets.
Wait, mom!
Dooley rushed over to stop her. That’s my pen. You know, the one I found in the burned spot in the field.
Rose looked at the pen in her hand and let out a short huff. Of course it is.
She gave him the pen. Why don’t you keep your things in your room?
I forgot. Cyrano and I were using it in here.
Dooley looked at the old-fashioned ink pen, formerly a shiny silver now dull, rough and blackened. Sorry.
Is it really empty, or did I just put invisible polka dots all over the kitchen?
If they’re invisible to you, do you really want to know?
asked Dooley.
"So I take that as a yes. Rose dug inside her purse, looking for something else to sign the papers.
Dooley, I’m glad you found that pen. I know you thought it was lost when the ash tree burned down, but you’ve got to do a better job of taking care of your things. You’re not in elementary school anymore."
Okay. I’ll run upstairs and put it away.
Rose looked up from searching through her purse. Or maybe you can take it with you and show it to the kids you’ll meet at school today?
she said, hopefully. That would be an interesting way to make new friends—with stories about your adventures this summer.
"I know it’s been a long time since you were in 7th grade, but I’m pretty sure that bringing a crusty, old ink pen to school isn’t going to help me make new friends. The last thing I need is to be different from everybody else."
Before Dooley could go up to his room, his mom stopped him, resting a hand on each of his shoulders. I’m going to ignore that you just called me old because it’s your first day of school and you’re nervous, but I want you to promise me something.
What’s that?
Promise me that you’ll remember how special you are. You are kind and smart and brave. And did I mention that you can see things that are invisible to other people?
Rose brushed away a stray hair from Dooley’s eyes. Sometimes being different from everybody else is its own magical power.
Dooley cleared his throat and blinked a few tears caught in his eyelashes. Okay, mom. I promise.
Chapter 3
Skeeter
Dooley had been told to report to first period in Room 302, but J.J. Lawrence Middle School was a lot bigger than his old school in Boston, and he was having a hard time finding his way. Avoiding the areas with smaller students he assumed were 5th and 6th graders, he had walked the length of an entire corridor before realizing he was in the 8th grade hallway filled with bigger kids opening and closing lockers as they confidently greeted each other in the way that only the oldest students at a school can do with ease. He hustled to a busy intersection of hallways and started down another one, hoping he was back on track.
Hey,
came a voice from behind him, are you new?
Dooley turned to see a boy a few inches shorter than him with curly blond hair and freckles.
Yeah,
answered Dooley.
Oh, cool. Do you like riddles?
he said in a quick, high-pitched voice.
Huh?
Riddles. Like this one: My first name is the sound you make when you’re tired plus what I am. What do you think? Can you guess it?
I don’t know—yawn boy?
No! Simon. Get it? Sigh Man?
Simon giggled.
Oh, yeah.
"Here’s another one for my last name: My family is a real gem under pressure."
Dooley just looked at Simon blankly.
A gem under pressure?
Simon repeated helpfully. A diamond!
Your name is Simon Diamond?
"Yes!