Took a break from some of the critiquing I'm doing - I promise peeps I'll get it done by the deadline - to post this entry for Susanna Leonard Hill's story contest. The rules are here, but please come back and read my story.
On Christmas Eve, Chad couldn’t see outside his window. “We’re going to have a White Christmas!”
He pulled on his snow clothes and tromped out onto the crisp… grass. Not a single snowflake anywhere.
Chad stared at the swirling mists of white surrounding him. It wasn’t snow, so it had to be… smoke! He covered his mouth and ran back in.
“Mom! Something’s on fire out there.”
Mom glanced out the window. “It’s just fog.”
Chad had heard how clouds sometime get too heavy and hang out near the ground. Airplanes can’t take off or land. And tonight Chad needed someone to land – on his house.
A large lump formed in his throat. “This wild weather is going to ruin Christmas.” Chad moaned. “How will Santa find our house?”
Mom shrugged. She probably didn’t believe in Santa. “What about Rudolph?”
Chad rolled his eyes. “Come on, Mom, I know there’s no such reindeer.”
Mom chuckled and walked away. Obviously Mom wasn’t going to save Christmas, so Chad had to do it. He bounded up to his room to do a little googling.
How to Warn in Fog. Chad clicked on websites that looked helpful. He learned how foghorns guide ships safely to the lighthouses. That gave Chad a whopper of an idea. He downloaded the foghorn sound to his iPod and secured the speakers on the outside of his window. Hopefully the duct tape would hold.
BARRROOOGGG! BARRROOOOGGG! All evening the speakers blared. Chad snuggled into his bed with a large smile. Santa would be sure to hear that.
BAARRRROOOOGGGG! BARRROOOGGGG! Chad tossed and turned, but he just couldn’t get to sleep.
BAARRROOOOGGGG! BAARRROOOOOGGGG! It had to be close to midnight, and Chad couldn’t even dose off. It was no use.
BAARRROOOGGGG! BAARROOO- Chad clicked the off button on his iPod. His eyes burned and he tried to blink away the tears.
Slumping back into bed, Chad looked toward the awful haze one last time. A red light blinked outside his window. Chad drifted off, a smile coaxing away his worries. What do you know, Rudolph was real after all.
I write about, with, for, and around kids all day. (Well, maybe I do the dishes too. Sometimes.)