Short Tales 2
A collection of short stories for kids 8 – 12 years
Short Tales 2
Copyright remains with the individual authors
Published by Storm Cloud Publishing (2016)
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.
Junior Fiction: A collection of short stories from writers all around the world.
Fun and adventure, Animals, Fantasy and fantastical creatures, Realism and drama, Courage, Family relationships, Friendships, Alphabet and word use, Conflict and resolution
Ages 8 – 12 years
Contents
Dragon Tale
Bruno Bright, The Big Boisterous Blue Dog From The Bush
Another World
Wombat Cuddles
The Dumpster Ghost
The Acacia Park Girls Treehouse Club
Bongo and Me
Lame Duck Protest
Frankie’s Indoor Adventure
Weird Wilma -
Lord Percy Most Excellent III
Kangaroo Kat
About the Authors
Storm Cloud ebooks
Dragon Tale
Lizbeth Klein
Amelia Lockhart knew that her parents had been gobbled up by an ill-tempered dragon living in the woods behind her house. But no one in the whole wide world believed her. Teachers at her school said the dragon was simply a figment of her imagination since Amelia was very clever at inventing stories. The sympathetic police officer stopped writing in his notepad when she mentioned the word dragon. Her archery instructor said Amelia often pretended to hunt dragons and her story could well be made up. Neighbours believed Amelia’s parents had disappeared on purpose because she was a feisty, unruly tomboy.
After the funeral, Aunt Izzy drove up the gravel driveway towing her purple caravan and parked it and her truck beside the house. She had come at last to look after Amelia in her parents’ rambling old house.
“Sorry, Amelia dear, for not being able to get to the funeral,” she said, peering over the top of her tortoise-shell glasses. “I was... too far away when I heard the terrible news. But I’m here now.”
Amelia didn’t know Aunt Izzy very well, but decided early on that she was a bit loopy, probably because she had lived alone with her pet goanna, Charlie, for many years. But Aunt Izzy was the only person who truly believed that her parents had been eaten by the dragon. Maybe she believed Amelia because she loved large lizards. And well, dragons were a particularly large variety of lizard!
“Tell me again, dear, what you think happened to your dear Mumma and Pappa,” she asked Amelia next morning.
Dressed in her floral pyjamas, she sat sipping tea from Amelia’s mother’s favourite teacup while swinging her crossed leg back and forth under the table.
Amelia’s butter knife paused in the air as she looked across the table at her aunt. How many times did she want to hear how they disappeared? She had already recounted the unfortunate events twice already.
Amelia took a deep breath and placed the knife beside her toast.
“A week after we moved here, Mum was cleaning the attic when she found some old papers stuffed in the wall.”
“In the wall, you say?” Aunt Izzy’s enormous green eyes were popping with excitement. “How fascinating! Go on, dear.”
Aunt Izzy took another sip of her tea, her eyes never leaving her niece’s. One of her hands rested on Charlie’s head. The goanna, draped across her lap like a beaded blanket, was also watching Amelia. It was strange how reptilian her aunt’s eyes seemed in the dim morning light that streamed in the kitchen window.
Amelia stared at the nearby woods, aware that her aunt was waiting for her to continue. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat.
“The papers looked very old. One of them said there was a dragon living in the woods and whoever lived in this house had to be careful.”
“Simply thrilling! And you showed these papers to the police, didn’t you?” Aunt Izzy asked, peering over the top of her glasses.
Amelia nodded, a little annoyed at her aunt for being so jovial. “But they just thought it was some kind of prank.”
“You believed the papers though, didn’t you, dear?”
“Yes.” Suddenly Amelia found herself reliving the painful events of that fateful morning. “Mum and Dad went for a stroll before breakfast, which is what they always did back in the city. They wanted to explore the woods. Mum said it looked mysterious and beautiful. They left me asleep in bed, except I wasn’t asleep. I looked out the window and saw them going into the woods. They were holding hands.”
Her cheeks heated. She didn’t mean to share that.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she went on. “When they hadn’t returned by lunch time, I realised something was wrong. I didn’t know what to do.”
“You poor thing,” Aunt Izzy crooned, her hand wrapped around the teacup. “Whatever could someone as young as you do in such a terrible situation?”
Amelia didn’t need to be reminded how young she was. Although she was turning twelve next month, the authorities said she was far too young to live on her own. If it hadn’t been for Aunt Izzy coming to look after her, Amelia knew she would have been placed in an orphanage. That would have rubbed salt on her already wounded heart.
She had a lot to thank her aunt for, although living with Charlie was a little awkward and unsettling. For one thing, Amelia had to watch where she placed her feet when she walked about the house, or else she’d trip over the lazy reptile.
The goanna was long, much longer than a cat or a dog and its wrinkly skin looked loose, as if it was much too big for its body. It had bands of yellow running across its neck down to the tip of its powerful, snake-like tail. Every few seconds, a pale, forked tongue would shoot out of its alligator-shaped mouth, which Amelia found disgusting.
“I called our neighbour, Mrs Warren,” she said, “who came over with her husband. We waited till dinner time but still Mum and Dad didn’t come back. So Mrs Warren called the police. They came and searched the woods but found no trace of them. They brought in sniffer dogs but, for some reason, they wouldn’t go in among the trees, so they took them away. The search went on through the night, but...”
Amelia choked back tears. Images of an enraged dragon devouring her parents still made her weep into her pillow late at night. Having to retell it was all too much.
“That’s enough, dear,” her aunt said softly and patted her arm. “No need to say any more. I know what happened.”
Her aunt poured another cup of tea from the teapot. Staring at the trees outside, Amelia struggled with her emotions. Then something wet and fleshy touched Amelia’s bare arm. Startled, she turned to look at the goanna as it flicked its forked tongue towards her again.
Ughh! She slid her chair away, out of its reach.
“What’ll we do, Aunt Izzy?” she asked.
“We plod on dear, as if Frank and Doris were still alive.”
“What about the dragon? It’s still there in the woods.”
“Ah, yes, the dragon,” Aunt Izzy’s eyes gleamed. “I’m going to tell you something now that will sound outrageous, even unbelievable. But I need you to focus, Amelia, on what I’m telling you.”
Charlie winked at her. Amelia was beginning to feel uneasy. She didn’t want to hear anything strange. Groaning inwardly, she gave her aunt a nod.
“It’s very important that we Lockharts stick together. After all, there are no more of us anywhere... in this universe.”
“What do you mean in this universe??
?? Amelia asked, cringing.
“Before you were born, your parents and I came from somewhere very far away to settle here. And I’m not talking about an overseas country either! I’m talking about somewhere... further than that!”
As her aunt talked, Amelia decided that she wasn’t loopy at all; she was a dangerous psychopath!
Underneath the table, Amelia gripped the tablecloth in tight fists. What was she going to do? Her parents were dead and her aunt was a lunatic! Was an orphanage such a bad place after all?
Her aunt went on. “In fact, the three of us time travelled from our home planet Tangowene, to Earth.”
Amelia gasped. This was worse than she imagined! Now they were aliens!
Oblivious to her niece’s reaction, her aunt continued. “We were forced to leave our dear planet because of an alien invasion by the Nagas, a particularly nasty, reptilian species wanting to breed in our lovely, pink oceans. We Tangowenes had to...”
Amelia squirmed in her chair as her aunt’s voice droned on. Finally, she raised her hand when she could take no more.
Her aunt stopped and blinked at Amelia. Charlie’s forked tongue shot out in rapid succession.
“None of that is true, is it?” Amelia snapped. “You just made it up because they said I made up the dragon.”
Hot tears pricked at the back of her eyes and she was shaking as hot rage overcame her. How could she be so stupid, thinking that her aunt – or in fact anyone – would believe her? It would be better off living in an orphanage where she wouldn’t have to tell anyone how her parents had died. The terrible secret would remain hers forever and she would never share it with another human being again.
“I knew you wouldn’t understand or believe me,” her aunt said, “so I brought along our bodyguard. Meet Charlie, the Nagas hunter. Beware, he’s not what he seems.”
Amelia was about to storm off in outrage when Charlie slipped off Aunt Izzy’s lap and began to squirm on the kitchen floor. Its body flipped back and forth and its legs flailed about wildly as if it was in terrible pain.
Confused, Amelia stared at the reptile, thinking it was probably ill. She soon realised that it was, in fact, changing shape.
“Don’t be alarmed, dear!” her aunt called as Amelia stumbled back in alarm and collided with the sideboard.
Larger and larger Charlie grew, until its enormous head nudged the ceiling of the kitchen, whereupon it stopped growing. Its monstrous body wrapped against the four walls of the kitchen. It hid Aunt Izzy from Amelia’s sight as she stood frozen, not daring to move in case the monster swallowed her whole.
Just then, her aunt’s head popped out from behind one of the reptile’s huge hind legs. She grinned and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“Well, dear,” she said in a breathless voice. “Now do you believe me?”
All Amelia could do was nod her head in stunned silence.
Her aunt patted Charlie. “That’s enough now.”
At the sound of her voice, the reptile began to shrink again until it was once more the size of a goanna.
Amelia didn’t move a muscle, although her legs wobbled underneath her like a bowl of jelly. She reached for her chair and slid down onto it, staring wide eyed at Charlie and her aunt.
For the next three hours, Amelia asked many questions about Tangowene and the Nagas. She listened in awe as her aunt described their beautiful home planet far away with its warm, pink seas and fragrant, blue toollaberry trees. Then Aunt Izzy sighed as she admitted having placed the old papers inside the attic to warn Amelia’s mother and father that one of the Nagas was in the woods hunting them.
“You put the papers there?” Amelia stared open mouthed at her aunt. “But how? They were ancient.”
“Remember I said we time travelled? Well, that’s what I did. Almost a hundred years ago, I came here and placed them in the attic for your mother to find. And now that you do believe me,” her aunt winked at her, “perhaps we should work together on a plan to rid the Nagas from the woods before it gobbles us up too. After all, you come from a class of fine warriors on Tangowene who hunted Nagas regularly.”
Amelia was surprised how thrilling that suddenly sounded to her. It explained why everyone thought she was so feisty and unmanageable. It was why she loved adventure and horse riding and archery so much. They were all part of the nature of a warrior.
She sat forward in her chair and stroked Charlie’s head as she listened to her aunt. The creature’s forked tongue flicked out and Amelia thought she saw a smile on its broad mouth. It didn’t seem so disgusting any more. Nor was her aunt loopy or a dangerous psychopath. She had to admit that life with her aunt would prove challenging but exhilarating at the same time.
Amelia was surprised how much she was looking forward to going dragon hunting with Aunt Izzy and Charlie, the Nagas hunter.
“After all, my dear,” her aunt said, “hunting Nagas was what you were born to do.”
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Bruno Bright,
the Big, Boisterous, Blue Dog from the Bush
Robyn Osborne
Way off the beaten track, out near the back of beyond, somewhere between Bandywallop and Bullamakanka, lived a big, boisterous, blue dog, by the name of Bruno Bright. Bruno’s best buddy was Bob, a big-hearted, barefoot, bushie.
It was true that Bruno was big. He was broader than a boar’s backside and beefier than a Brahman bull. Bruno liked to eat anything, anywhere, anytime. He would bolt down bread and butter, bog into braised bacon, browse on brisket bits and then belch from his bloated belly. Once Bob went fishing for bass in the billabong and Bruno ate the bait from Bob’s bucket!
It was true that Bruno was boisterous. He was bursting with beans and full of bravado, so it was always bedlam at the barrack. Bruno could balance bones on his back, bounce a basketball and bark along with Bob’s banjo, all at the same time. And when the big boomers bounded by the barbwire barrier at the back, Bruno would burst out of the barrack and burn through the bulldust behind them. Even the burrs and bindies didn’t bother Bruno.
It was true that Bruno was a blue dog. His parents were bright eyed blueys who could bail up bad tempered bullocks at breakneck speed, but the only things Bruno bailed up were Bob’s breeding bantams, and some bombardier beetles. As Bruno’s body grew, Bob was a bit bamboozled by his breeding. Bruno’s bouncy behind, bandy legs, bulging belly and back-end-of-a-buzzard face belonged to a bitser, not a well bred blue.
It was true that Bruno was from the bush. He lived with Bob in a broken down barrack beneath the branches of a beautiful baobab tree. The barrack was full of buzzing blowflies (especially when the Barcoo busters blew) bumps and bulges, and a bandy bandy lived beneath the bare boards. Bob and Bruno didn’t own a bucket or a broom and it was only when the bed bugs got bothersome, that they would boil up some bore water and bathe their bodies.
Bruno and Bob were the best of buddies and they weren’t bothered by the bare bank balance. They worked together in the bush; breaking in brumbies, bundling brushwood, branding bullocks or burning back the Bimble box.
On spring mornings, when the bees buzzed busily between the Banksia blossoms, Bruno and Bob would share baked beans and barley water by the billabong.
“Blimey, this is bonzer. A bloke would have to be batty, to leave all this,” Bob would bellow.
On summer nights, when the stars blinked brilliantly in the boundless sky, Bruno and Bob would share burnt bangers and beer by the barbecue.
“Blimey, this is bonzer. A bloke would have to be barmy to leave all this,” Bob would bellow.
On autumn days, when the bushes turned to burnished browns, Bruno and Bob would share bushman’s bread and billy tea by the backyard.
“Blimey, this is bonzer. A bloke would have to be bananas, to leave all this’” Bob would bellow.
And on winter afternoons, when the blustery breezes blew and buffeted the Brigalow, Bruno and Bob would share
bully beef and Bonox by the bonfire.
“Blimey, this is bonzer. A bloke would have to be bonkers, to leave all this,” Bob would bellow.
* * *
By and by, Bob liked to bet a few bucks by backing a bookie or blowing a bit on bingo. Then one day, Bob hit the bonanza! He was no longer bankrupt, but bowled over by the bags of bottomless brass.
“That’s beaut, Bruno! No more buckling our belts or balancing the budget. Let’s go and take a bo peep at this big, broad land beyond the bush,” Bob said.
Bruno and Bob bought a bright blue bus and bade bye bye to the barrack. They body boarded at Bondi, boogied in Burrumbuttock, binged on blueberries in Burnie and, at Buckleboo, they tried a Barmaid’s Blush. Bob thought the bush ballads at Batchelor were beaut but the Barker’s Creek bed and breakfast was Bruno’s best. Finally, with burnt backs and bruised behinds, Bruno and Bob returned to their broken down barrack.
But life in the bush, way off the beaten track, out near the back of beyond, somewhere between Bandywallop and Bullamakanka, had changed for Bob. Beguiled by beautiful brochures, the bush was no longer bonzer but barren and boring.
“Blimey, Bruno, we’re nothing but a couple of bushwhackers from the back blocks,” bellyached Bob. “With all the booty in the bank, we can buy a better life.”
Without a backward glance, Bob and Bruno moved to the big smoke and bought a big, brick building with a bay view. Bob’s battered bomb became a BMW. Bruno’s bed was no longer a beer box, but a brocade basket bedecked with beads. (Oh, how Bruno blushed!)
Instead of barbecued bangers in the backyard, they had broccoli bisque in the ballroom. Bob banned Bruno from balancing bones and bouncing basketballs and they played boules instead. ‘Bog in, Bruno’ became ‘Bon appetite, Bruno’. There was even a bidet in the bathroom and a bossy butler named Brandon!
Because Bruno was a big, boisterous, blue dog from the bush, he was like a bull in a bottle bazaar in Bob’s new abode. He buried Bob’s bamboo bonsai, broke the balustrades beside the bookcase and bit the buttons off Bob’s best Bombay bloomers. But when Bruno burst into Bob’s bedroom and bashed through the bay window, Bob blew his block. Bruno was in the bad books.