Test out Jack's Monster

Hello Everyone,

My ''high interest'' chapterbook for children ages 8-11 or so is called Jack's Tales.  It's three differrent stories about my main character Jack (realistic-quirky fiction). I'm very close to having it ready to release.  I wrote this book for teachers to use for boys who just haven't latched on to any fiction yet.  The three stories are designed to be very fast, quirky, and very character centered.  I hope to also be invited to visit classrooms and provide fun activities and writing lessons to accompany the book.

I thought I'd run a little test first.  If anyone has the time, please read it and let me know your thoughts.  I'd like to get feedback on its potential for engagement for boys and whether it hits the age group well-say 8 to 11 or third to fifth grades. The other two stories are written in the same style (ghosthunting and soccer).  Any additional thoughts/comments would be very much appreciated.This is the first story, Jack's Save.  Here is a little bit more about this story and me as well.

http://paperdragonink.com/?p=2022

For those who do read it and decide to help, I can set you up with copies once it comes out. I plan on having teaching resources/guides/activities/connections to the Common Core to accompany it as well. I can reward those that do with resource freebies.

Thank you very much,
Jim Westcott

So, here it is: Hope you enjoy!

Jack’s Tales

These are three stories about a boy named Jack.

 

Jack’s Monster

Jack’s Pizza Ghost

Jack’s Save

 

  In each story, Jack is a year older. In each story, find out how Jack deals with some normal and not so normal problems in his life.

 

Want to find out?

 

Then start with Jack’s Monster!

 

 

 

 

Jack’s Monster

 

 

Jack didn’t open his eyes, but he listened. He hoped to hear rain hammering against his window and a strong wind pushing through the trees, anything to cancel today’s fishing trip. Unfortunately, he heard birds singing as warm sunlight cast an extra blanket over his bed.

Jack liked fishing with his dad. But since his best friend, Brandon, told him what he saw from his cottage dock on Irondequoit Bay, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Brandon told him there were large humps near their favorite fishing spot, bobbing and sliding in the water.

Brandon liked messing with him. This is what best friends do and this time it really worked!

Once he worries about something, it’s hard to stop. It starts with an image.  He can see the head of a dragon with pointed teeth as long as a ruler and the body of a super- sized snake, bobbing and sliding toward him, all of this from their boat.

Soon after that, questions follow in his mind:

Does a monster really live in Irondequoit Bay?

Answer:It’s probably the Loch Ness Monster’s cousin.

Is it a vegetarian?

Answer: Not with teeth like that.

Footsteps interrupt his thoughts. Closer they creep.

 

Outside his room then they are creeping inside his room.

Don’t move. Pretend you’re in a deep sleep, Jack is thinking.

Jack’s father pushes him back and forth like a cradle.  Jack doesn't open his eyes; he fakes snoring; however, his fake snore sounds like a sick cow. His dad pulls the covers off.

“Oh, hey Dad,” he said, in his best sleepy voice.

“Time to get up, buddy.  Got to get an early start --when they’re hungry!”

Hungry... Hungry... He hoped only fish, not monsters, were hungry this morning.

 

At the kitchen table, he swirled his cereal around, barely eating.

“First time out this season.” Dad smiled. “We’re gonna catch us a monster!”

The cereal stopped in his throat and thrust back up where it came from. Some of the mushy spray landed on his dad’s toast.

His father sprung from his seat and hit Jack’s back. “Jack! Swallow!” he said, even though there was nothing left.

Jack took a long slug from his orange juice. “Wrong way. Sorry.”

“Sure you’re ok?” he asked as he positioned his hand to slap Jack on the back if he started choking.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    “All good.” Green, yellow and red bits of what formerly was Fruit Loops covered the plate of toast.

Since He already loaded the car, “well then! I guess it’s time to go fishing,” his dad said.

 Jack watched the houses go by on the way to their dock.

“You know what the bay monster eats?” Brandon had whispered in his ear yesterday after Jack told him about going fishing with his dad. Brandon yelled, “Chomp! Chomp! Jack burger!” He laughed when Jack jumped.

 

At their dock, imagining serving himself as a large cheeseburger to whatever was in the bay, getting ready to fish wasn’t exactly on his mind. First, he left his tackle box in the car. Then he left the bucket of minnows there. Next, he left his life jacket.

 

When he left his pole in the car too his dad waved his hands in front of his son’s face and said, “Earth to Jack!”

Jack scowled and shuffled back to the truck. When he’d brought back what he needed, he sat quietly in the back of the boat.  He was more aware this morning than usual. He noticed the soft breeze carrying the smell of bay water. He usually liked this smell. Today, though, it gave him that feeling in his stomach, the head-in-the-toilet feeling.

Last chance, Jack. Tell him.

“You ok buddy?”

“I’m ok, I think.”

“Sure you’re ready?” Jack didn’t answer. Ready to puke, Jack was thinking. 

The engine rumbled. The water churned behind them. They began to glide away from the dock, slowly.

Soon they were speeding away from it. Jack turned and watched his safety zone become smaller until the docks appeared to be dark brown wooden popsicle sticks separating toy boats, one from the other.

He turned ahead, cool wind pushed at his face and forced tears from his eyes.

He put his chin on his knees and stared at the floor. The thought of meeting the bay monster made his stomach whirl like a pinwheel.  Don’t puke. Don’t puke. These words repeated in his head until the boat slowed and his dad shut off the engine. The boat glided to a stop, in the sitting duck position on the water.

 

His father walked to the stern and said, with his back turned to Jack, “This is it buddy. My secret sources     

told me not to tell anyone, but I can tell you.” Jack lifted his head from his knees and looked at this father. “We’re the only ones that know, so don’t say anything to anyone.” he added.

Not gonna, dad, because we’re both gonna be monster bait.  He thought.

“Know what?” Jack asked, reluctantly. 

His dad turned and smiled at Jack. “There’s a monster right in this spot!”

Thanks Dad, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.

Not, don’t worry…we brought a bay monster gun with us or Jack, Bay Monsters aren’t real….no, he had to say that!

Jack’s father sat down in the front of the boat and slid his tackle box to the seat across from him. He opened it and began taking out lures, just like always, holding them in front of his face. Even though he’s seen each one a hundred times, he does this every time they go fishing, like he's waiting for the lure to tell him it’s the right one. While in his “lure zone,” he doesn't notice Jack’s head dangling over the side of the boat.

Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Don’t puke, Jack!  Here it comes!

His neck felt tight and his stomach started to quiver from the inside. The rest of his Fruit Loops were about to rise from his stomach and become water pollution when his father’s hand grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled the top half of his body upright.

“Stop goofin’ around and start fishing. You want to fall in?” He tightened the strap on Jack’s life jacket. He walked back to the stern and casted something large and shiny. It flashed in the air until it created a circle in   

the dark water.

Jack watched him turn the handle on his spinning reel and realized he wasn’t going to puke. The tightness in his neck was gone. His stomach stopped quivering.

“You remember the knot I taught you? What are you going to use?” his father asked. “A lure or bait?”

Jack’s brain quickened and then he said, “I think I’m going to use a minnow.”

“Sure you don’t want to go for something bigger, bud?”

“I’m sure,” he replied, thinking, Dad! For real! The smaller, the better!

 

He twisted and looped the line-once, then twice around the eye of the hook, brought it through again and it cinched tightly. He pulled on the line. It was strong, just like his dad had showed him. He attached a bright orange bobber to his line, about two feet above his hook. He swirled his hand in the bucket through the panicking minnows, until he could feel the first unlucky one squirming inside his palm.

He looked at the silver and black minnow in his hand, its mouth opening and closing, its silver scales coming off like it was shedding glitter.

“I know how you feel,” he whispered, as he put 

the hook through its tail so he wouldn’t really injure it. He cast his line out and watched the minnow land in the water. His bobber followed and broke the glassy surface. 

He then watched the bobber for any movement. It was as still as the water. Not too long after his cast, he stopped watching; his mind switched to the questions again.

The questions held him against his will just like his hook through the minnow’s tail. No matter how hard he tried to swim away from them, they wouldn’t let him escape.

 

Do they sleep during the day and hunt at night, like vampires?

Answer: Nope. Brandon saw it during the day!

Do they sense fear like bears and bees?

Answer: If they do, we’re monster bait!

Just questions - then pictures - questions - then pictures - until......

 

His reel screeched and this sound snatched him back to reality! His bobber vanished.  This is when the bay water smelled stronger than ever and the sun felt like a dragon’s breath on his face. He stood and his legs trembled as if he had a colony of angry ants in each pant leg. Something down there was causing his drag to sound like that. Jack leaned against the side of                              

the boat to steady his legs, then he turned the reel. It wouldn’t turn easily as usual.

He’d used a spinning reel many times, maybe a couple of hundred. He was awesome for someone who is only eight but he suddenly forgot how to use it. So, he turned the handle in the wrong direction and the handle flung to the bottom of the boat. It was like he knew the handle should be turned the other way, but his hand couldn’t stop. This is when his arms stretched over the side of the boat, toward the water, as if they were string cheese.

It took his minnow. It took his hook. It wanted his line. It wanted his bobber. It wanted his pole. It wanted their boat. And after these snacks.

It would take him next!

The only thing Jack could do was to yell, “Monster! Monster!”

 

“Jack! Hang on!” his father shouted in a panic. His dad dropped his pole to the bottom of the boat, while trying to reach the handle from Jack’s pole. He grabbed Jack’s handle then screwed it back into his reel and all of this while the monster was attempting to yank Jack over the side of the boat, skipping the effort of coming for its meal. 

Jack grabbed onto the handle and made sure he turned it, this time in the right direction so it wouldn’t fling off again. The reel screeched louder, as whatever down there took line as it pleased.

“You can do this! “You can do this! Keep reeling it in!” his dad shouted.

Jack held onto the pole with his left hand held just below the reel               

jabbing the handle against his stomach. He held onto the handle with his right hand and struggled to turn it in his favor.  The handle reluctantly turned in Jack’s direction until whatever down there suddenly decided not to play along any more. The pole almost flung from Jack’s grip when it pulled back.  

 

“Is it snagged?” his father asked, holding his hand around the pole.

“I-I don’t know. It isn’t moving. I can’t move it!” It felt like a boulder on the end of his line.

“Take your time. Don’t horse it. This is something big, Jack!”

Dad, you have no idea!

Jack’s arms weakened as it pulled. He wanted to let go. He should have let go! But, he didn’t. Jack!  Are you loco?  Guess you want to be a Jack Burger!

“I bet it’s snagged,” his dad said.

Then the line moved slowly toward the boat and stopped.

“It’s no snag,” Jack said, watching the line.

Then it swam a little again slowly, this time toward the bow. And it stopped. Jack could still feel its weight. Sweat dripped from Jack’s forehead. His breath was heavy.

“Let it do what it wants, Jack,” his dad whispered, like he worried it would hear their plan or something.     

 Should I really let it do what it wants? Answer: Duh! It’s gonna do what it wants anyway! And it wants a Jack Burger!

 

Jack closed his eyes and felt his hand reeling, kind of slow, then faster, circle after circle, faster and faster, easier and easier….too easy! Way too easy!

The line was spooling in along with what was on the end of it! It decided to take its meal. And a Jack Burger was the main course on the menu.

The reel stopped but he kept reeling with his eyes closed. The pulling stopped.

 

Now he heard a splashing sound over the side of the boat and felt cold water hit his arms and face. It arrived!

He didn’t want to open his eyes, but he did anyway, and, to his horror, he saw his father hanging over the edge, fighting for his life, about to be monster bait.

During what should have been the scariest moment in his life, let’s face it, any kid’s life, he felt strangely calm, not scared at all. He didn’t turn into a liquid, dropping into a puddle on the boat floor then sucked into the carpet. He didn’t freak out like a baby that suddenly had his binky stolen. He didn’t morph into a human ball, tucking himself under his seat, sucking his thumb. He didn’t do any of these things.

What he did was get angry! This thing would have to go through him first before it messed with his dad!

He yelled, “Not today! Think you can mess with me!” He wrapped his arms around his father’s waist.  With his dad’s life within his arms, he yelled,               

“Dad! I’m not letting you go! Fight it!”

His dad swung toward him with the net in his hands. He released the net in the space between the front seats. It sounded like a side of beef landing on the bottom of the boat.  It was in the boat!

Jack heard thuds and something slimy, wet and cold slapped his ankles.

“It’s a monster!” his dad screamed. “I don’t believe it!”

Jack grabbed a wooden oar twice as long as his body and steadied it behind his right shoulder.

“Leave him alone! Leave us alone! Die, you Monster!”

His dad grabbed the oar and pulled on it until Jack let go. He set the oar down and wrapped his arms around his son in a tight hug. He held Jack's head against his chest, and said, “You did it. You did it! You did it!”

What is he talking about?

Jack looked down at a mouth in the shape of a sneer, full of spikes, biting the net. The monster had black spots down its side like a Cheetah’s and its tail looked like a thin brown, slimy diver’s flipper.

Jack’s dad let him go and crouched down so his eyes were even with his. “You just caught the biggest monster I’ve ever seen.”

Jack still didn’t understand. His dad wasn’t hurt and he wasn't scared at all.

“It’s bigger than any pike I’ve caught! It’s gotta            

be fifteen pounds, Jack!”

Jack gawked at his monster. His heartbeat slowed. The word “pike” popped into his head. It’s not a water monster. It’s a fish, a pike, a huge pike!

He dropped the pole, slumped backward onto a seat and stared at his beautiful catch. He didn’t move for the next few minutes, his arms and legs felt like overcooked spaghetti.

Now free from the net, his monster was surprisingly still. Its sharp triangle-like teeth showed as it opened and closed its mouth. Its gills moved in and out. He could see bright pink inside its gills. Its stomach was white, shiny, and bulging from its thick glistening side.

“Come here, Jack.” His dad kneeled next to it.

Jack slowly stood and stepped over his pole.

“See its fins on each side?”

Jack nodded.

“Look at its teeth,” he said. “Want to touch it?”

Jack looked at his father.

His dad ran a few fingers down its side. The pike was thick in the middle; it got thinner toward its tail.

“It’s calmed down now, it’s tired, it won’t do anything.”

Jack kneeled over his monster and put a finger behind its gill. He’d handled fish before; he'd even taken                      

them off the hook. But, this didn’t feel like the others.

This fish was smooth and slick. It didn’t have rough scales like a perch or sunfish. It was harder behind its gill but much softer down its stomach. He stopped running his finger down its side and he flattened his hand out. He could feel it trying to breath, trying to live. Its gills moved in and out and he could see more pink.

Just a few minutes ago, this creature appeared to be a vicious water monster that wanted him for a snack. Now it seemed much different.

“What should we do with it?” his dad asked seriously.

The fish looked tired as if it had given Jack everything it had. He would never forget what a fight it had given him. Jack felt like there was nothing more he needed from it.

“Put it back in the water, dad.”

His dad smiled and rubbed Jack’s head.

“You sure? This is the kind that gets mounted on walls.”

It was still now, waiting for Jack’s decision. “It needs to go back, dad.” Jack repeated. “Seeing it on a wall would just make me sad. We shouldn’t take its life too. It already gave me something I’ll never forget.”

“Of course, buddy.”

His dad lifted it under its huge, white belly by putting a hand underneath its gill and one near its tail.

“Put out your arms and hold your hands up.” His dad put it into Jack’s hands.

“Careful. You got it?” he asked, as he grabbed                     

their official boat camera and snapped a picture.

Jack gave the monster back to his dad and watched him gently lower the monster over the side. It moved lazily like a snake, near the side of the boat then it quietly vanished.

After this, they decided to call it a day and get some breakfast.

This had felt like the right thing to do, release the fish and eat a good meal.

On their way to the dock, Jack could feel the sun on his face. He enjoyed the wind pushing against him. The bay water never smelled better and he didn’t care how long it took to get back to the dock. His father looked back at him and smiled. He smiled back.

A few weeks after this, while looking at his picture again, he realized he hadn’t thought of any questions for a while. He just felt better about himself a lot more now. It was a nice feeling.

He also realized that Brandon was right. There really is a monster in Irondequoit Bay.

But, unlike Brandon, Jack has proof.