My Gem: An Excerpt

Author's Note: Here is a short excerpt from a book I am working on. It should be available for purchase whenever I happen to finish (maybe before Thanksgiving, cross your fingers!) and after my editor (mom!) reads it over. Anyway, read this little 'teaser' and R/R!

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The sun shone through the open window. I woke up and looked at the clock. 11:53. No wonder. Saturdays were lazy days for me. I climbed out of bed and down the hall into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” said my father. He was at the table drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. “’Morning,” I said back. My father was an early riser. I could always count on him to wake me up if I’m late.

I walked outside to the chicken coop and opened the door. I was greeted by a lot of squawks. “Well, good morning to you too!” I said to the chickens as I gathered eggs. Then I went back inside and fried them. I made some fresh orange juice and started to eat at the table.

“Gem, I have some great news.” My father said. I looked up from my food. Whatever could it be? “What is it?” I asked. Father smiled. “I’m going to Avadaville. Just for the weekend. There is a job opening there and I want to try it out before I actually get the job.” I dropped my fork on my plate, and there was a loud cracking noise. I looked down to see a crack in the glass, and stood up to replace it.

“Come on, Gem! This could be the opportunity of a lifetime! If I decide to get the job, we would have a much better life there. We could live on a farm with better fields and a bigger house! You know the ones here in Pokerstown are small and old.”

I looked up at my father. He was very serious about this. When he makes up his mind, he never steps back. I took a deep breath. “Ok. When are you leaving?” Father smiled. “Today. But I’ll be back by tomorrow, I promise.” I smiled too and hugged him. My father would never let me down, I just knew it.

After he’d boarded his plane and was on his way to Avadaville, I sat down on the couch. There was nothing much to do. All my friends were either busy or not here, and it was too hot to do anything fun outside. So I decided to take a walk.

I went into my room and started to brush my hair. I sang a song that my father had named me after.

“Oh Gem, my Gem,

You’re my favorite thing.

In the whole wide world

Nothing can compare!

Oh Gem, my Gem,

Nothing could replace

The smile that spreads

On my face…”

I put down my brush and looked at myself in the mirror. I resembled my father a lot. Since he was well known in the county, people always reminded me of our resemblance. I smiled, thinking of all the good times me and my father had together.

My backpack was in the hallway. I grabbed it and put some food and water in it. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be back for a while. Then I locked the house and headed into the forest.

The sounds of the leaves rustling was music to my ears. Other than that, it was dead quiet. No birds singing, no snakes hissing, not even sound of footsteps. Just quiet.

When I reached the top of a hill, I sat down and ate something. It was a long walk, and I was thirsty. It was already afternoon.

I looked into the sky. There was what looked like smoke a far distance away. The smoke formed clouds in the air, and made me sleepy. But then I realized what the smoke was. It was a distress signal.

I grabbed my bag and ran down the hill, disturbing all the quiet around me. The birds started chirping loudly, and I heard animals running away from me. But I didn’t care. Someone needed help.

I burst through the front door and looked around. What could I do? My father was usually here in this situation. Sometimes he sat in front of the TV for any information that could help him.

So that’s what I did. I sat in front of the TV and watched. My heart jumped to my throat at what I saw.

There was a plane, deep into the face of the earth. There were people running out of it and towards tents far away from the crash, where they were given water and clothes. I looked at the plane number in the back.

It was a Camen 67. The name sounded familiar… then I realized it. My father was on that plane, heading to Avadaville, but the plane hadn’t gotten that far. It had crashed for some reason, and my father might be dead.

I screamed. I didn’t care who heard me. My message was loud and clear. I was scared.

I watched for about another hour or so. Then they started showing all the survivors, 1 by 1. I clenched my fingers tightly, hoping to see father. He wasn’t there. “Maybe there was a mistake,” I said to myself. I started to break out into pools of sweat. Then they started showing the dead, 1 by 1. I couldn’t stand it anymore. Then I saw his picture.

Nathanial Jermaine Tuscany.

I passed out on the floor.

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So, there you have it! When I progress through finishing the book, I will add more excerpts. Thanks for reading!



AfricanbutAmerican