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One of Me is Missing: Minnesota Strange
One of Me is Missing: Minnesota Strange
One of Me is Missing: Minnesota Strange
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One of Me is Missing: Minnesota Strange

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To fourteen-year-old Sally Knox, the world is a buffet of fascinating things to do and learn. She wants it all: martial arts, theater, sculpture, cooking, robotics, music, computer science - you name it!

So, what happens when she gets her wish to be in enough places at once to take all the summer school classes she wants? Complications are just the beginning - before the end, one of her goes missing and the rest must come to the rescue or be trapped forever in their multitudinous state.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 11, 2018
ISBN9781386222712
One of Me is Missing: Minnesota Strange

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    Book preview

    One of Me is Missing - Laramie Sasseville

    CHAPTER ONE

    YOU’RE LEAVING WHEN? SALLY SPOKE as breath allowed while pedaling, her mind only half on the conversation with Haley.

    "Tonight. I can’t believe it." Haley biked beside her on the path around Lake Nokomis, slowly enough for conversation.

    Even her best friend struck her as a distraction, if a distraction she would miss all too soon. The whole living world beckoned – the bright sunshine, the lavish greenery surrounding, the blue skies decked with high, whipped-cream confections of cloud. Conversation seemed trivial when she could almost see hidden messages written on the air, tangled arcane symbols inscribed amid the boughs of surrounding trees. Her creative fingers itched to do something with the visions.

    I never asked for any trip to Ireland, Haley continued. "Why does my mother have to drag the whole family along on her assignment? I mean, Dad could have stayed home because of his job, and then I could have stayed with him. But no – he wants to go – says he can do everything he needs online or via conference calls." Her voice trailed off in a grumbling tone that clashed with the bright day.

    Why was Haley even upset? Wouldn’t any normal person be excited to spend the summer in Ireland?

    A whole new land, centuries of art, music, culture and history – what a bummer, Sally commented in her wryest tone. She wasn’t jealous, even if she sounded snarkier than intended. After all, she’d been to Korea and Japan and Haley had never left the States before this. Haley should get to visit Europe. Why not enjoy it? What’s your issue?

    "It is kind of a bummer – for me. You know I’d rather go to the north woods if I can’t stay in town with my friends."

    Things could be worse. Sally pushed harder, pulling ahead, letting the breeze cool her face, and then turned to say over her shoulder, You could be heading for a walking tour of Mordor.

    Haley sped up to keep pace with her, laughing before speaking. I could be spending the summer in the clutches of Dementors instead of with my family.

    Haley obviously meant that to be funny, but Sally could only imagine having more of a family than her control-freak mother, who alternated between trying to run her life and ignoring her completely for the sake of the career supporting them both. She tried to lighten Haley’s mood. It’s just for the summer. The Twin Rangers will ride again.

    Haley usually appreciated the incongruity of calling themselves twins, with Sally’s Korean ancestry and Haley’s blonde European stock. They usually both enjoyed their running bit of pretending to be Rangers of the Strider and Middle Earth variety. But Haley got so emotional. Sally had no idea how to deal with it; she’d rather keep things cool. She had even cut her bangs so she’d resemble a Vulcan. T’Pol was one of her heroes, along with Galadriel and Leonardo Da Vinci.

    They headed down the western shore of the lake, past the main beach. Still too early in the season for swimming there – which didn’t stop some people from lying out in the sun while toddlers splashed in the shallows or played on the nearby swings.

    Yeah. I know. Haley’s breath grew harsh, and Sally slowed her pace. "It’s a terrific educational opportunity, blah, blah, blah. But I don’t know anyone in Ireland. Definitely nobody who’d help me steal a car and save the city from a deadly predator like you did last winter–"

    It wasn’t really stealing, corrected Sally, embarrassed by the show of appreciation. It was your mom’s car. You just borrowed it.

    According to Mom, I stole it. You sure came through by covering for me, and getting grounded for the past few months. I still feel bad about that.

    Forget it, Sally said. It’s what friends do. And friends insisted on long goodbyes, distracting you from the world of creative inspiration – friendship could be a double-edged sword. I’m sorry I couldn’t lie for you when they started asking questions.

    I knew you were a lousy liar when I got you into it. Haley seemed intent on heading into emotional territory Sally would sooner sidestep. What’ll I do without you for practically three whole months?

    Are you kidding? You’ll do great. How could a girl with Haley’s guts and determination still act so needy? And how could she imagine Sally could make such a difference? Everything she had to offer could be conveyed just as well in an email. Why didn’t Haley see that?

    Haley pressed on. Like you’ll even notice I’m gone with all those summer school activities you’ve got planned.

    How did this get to be about her? But fine, Haley had hit on a topic dear to her heart. Thank heaven – or the Great Spaghetti Monster – the Parks Department and school district finally joined forces for an Arts Enrichment Program. I’d sure be stuck if they had nothing but remedial academic classes like last year.

    You could start a webcomic like last year. Haley grinned at her. "Getting A’s in every subject should earn you some time off from school."

    I like school. I suppose I could get a jump start on some high school subjects before we start there in September.

    I’m not ready for high school. Haley scowled. The kids in middle school were hard enough.

    "Haven’t you outgrown caring what they think? You’ll be cooler than any of them – returning as a sophisticated world traveler. Maybe you can arrange to play your guitar before the crowned heads of Europe."

    I’ll be in Ireland – not likely to run into crowned heads there. Haley’s tone brightened. But I might get a chance to play in a pub or two…

    Sounds fun. Go for it, Sally urged her. Haley had talent, she just needed some encouragement. Her aspiring musician friend had grown more confident this past winter, but still had a tendency to second-guess herself. Sometimes it seemed like boosting her ego was the main reason Haley wanted her around. It was probably only a matter of time before she realized she didn’t actually need Sally.

    She should make Haley face the truth now – better than waiting around until the other girl had made a bunch of great new friends in Ireland or, later, in high school.

    They rode on in silence, rounding the south end of the lake, passing from sunshine to tree shadow, drinking in the cool June air. The textures of the world formed patterns. Sally could almost read words forming between grains of sand and gravel on the path, between the blades of grass beside it. The style reminded her of the symbols she’d been working with in her sand painting project – she must have spent too long staring at the image this morning.

    They passed joggers and dog walkers. Other bikers zipped past, going considerably faster than their own casual speed. The lake spread out beside the path, wavelets twinkling like sequins on the blue satin surface. The liquid twinkles spelled out hints of a story she couldn’t quite read.

    Along the eastern shore the path mounted a low hill. At the top, Haley pulled up at an overlook and Sally pulled in beside her, breathing hard. The hill had taken some work. She got so out of shape during the long Minnesota winters when she couldn’t take her bike out.

    Here. Haley held out a bunch of keys. Mom said to make sure you got these before we leave.

    ‘Sure. Sally took the jangling ring, tucked it into the pocket of her worn jeans. How often does she want me to check on the place?"

    She said to go as often as you can, so the mail doesn’t pile up. She asked the Post Office to forward but they always miss some.

    A few times a week, then? Despite the prospect of house-sitting, Haley’s departure didn’t seem real – just another story they’d made up between them.

    Haley faced out over the lake from the vantage of their hilltop. Her voice stayed matter-of-fact, but she shot Sally an odd look – sort of questioning.

    The house plants need watering once a week. The lawn needs watering if it doesn’t rain, and mowing once a week. Mom’s leaving you a list and extra money so you can get fresh gas for the mower. She said she’d leave the check for you right on the end table by the front door.

    Tell her I say, ‘Thanks for trusting me with this responsibility.’ Sally spoke in a fair imitation of her mother’s voice, then relaxed. My mom would squawk if I didn’t say so, but I mean it. It’s enough of a summer job to give me some money for craft supplies without having to ask Mom for it.

    My mom trusts you. Haley’s smile grew wry. She holds you up as a shining example of how responsible I should be. Even after you covered for me last winter.

    Sorry about that. Sally groaned inwardly. The downside of being a good student was having half the other kids resent her for it. Lucky Haley didn’t. Reluctantly, she turned from the vista of the lake and started walking her bike back to the path. Haley fell in beside her.

    Not your fault. Mom sees you get good grades and doesn’t see through to your evil plans for world domination. Haley grinned.

    Sally cuffed Haley’s shoulder. "Those plans are seekrit! Speaking of which, the plan includes finishing this sand painting project I promised Ms. Young… She could picture it in her mind’s eye, nearly complete, pulsing with the power of a thing unborn in the act of becoming a reality in the world. I need to get back to it soon."

    Don’t you have all summer for that? They reached the bike path again and Haley mounted up. Sally launched herself back into motion, riding beside her. How little you understand the grip of artistic inspiration. Besides, I want to show it to Ms. Young. She’s teaching a summer school class in calligraphy. I’ve already signed up to take it. Thinking beyond her current obsession, she looked forward to getting involved in another new artistic medium. Probably not Japanese brushwork at the beginning, but a person had to start somewhere. Her fingers itched to hold the pens as she pictured curved strokes of black ink following her hand across a pristine page.

    You signed up for one? I thought there were like a dozen classes you want.

    It’s making me crazy. Sally puffed out a phrase with each breath. "So much to learn, so little time. Half of the classes are scheduled at the same time as the other half. It’s not fair. They finally offer some fun courses, puff… for the summer program… puff, but then make it so you have to, puff… choose between them."

    I bet they didn’t reckon with ‘The Girl Who Wouldst Be a Mary Sue,’ Haley teased, briefly releasing her handlebars to make air quotes around the title.

    Sally fell back into pedaling slower and Haley kept pace with her. They’re used to goof-offs, kids who have to be dragged kicking and screaming to the remedial classes. She had no respect for the slackers who got the chance to explore whole worlds of knowledge and scorned the opportunity.

    Exactly. Now they’ll attract a better class of student, but you’ll have to be patient with them, teach them of your requirements.

    I suppose I will. Trust Haley to look at the school administration as the ones in need of teaching. At least I’ll get to show Ms. Young my project. We talked about the basic ideas last term – really cool. I’m combining ancient signs and modern symbols – like graffiti – using Tibetan sand painting techniques and found materials. It’s almost done now.

    Really? Why haven’t I heard about this before now?

    It’s not quite ready. And, sadly, Haley would be gone for months now before they’d have another chance to get together. She’d have to wait until the end of the summer to see the finished project. Why don’t we go over to my place right now? I’ll show you what I’ve got so far. She never appreciated having a friend more than when she had some new work she wanted to show off.

    "Your unfinished seekrit project? Haley sounded properly impressed. Wish I could. I live in the opposite direction, remember? And I’m going to have to haul ass to get home soon enough to keep Mom from having a fit."

    They reached the point on the bike path where their routes diverged and pulled off to the side under the shade of some tall old cedars.

    Fine. I don’t need your approval to know when I’m doing good work. Sally hoped her tone didn’t come across too defensive. As a joke, it felt flat. She refused to admit how much it mattered if her friend liked her creations. She’d be fine on her own. June to September wasn’t so long a time.

    Fine. I’m going. You and your projects can have the whole summer to yourselves. Haley looked down toward the bare earth beneath the trees.

    Haley wasn’t going to cry, was she? What was she supposed to do with people who cried? It was so totally awkward. Was Haley trying to make her feel bad?

    Geeze. What’s the big deal? asked Sally. It’s just one summer. You’ll have fun there. I’ll have fun here – then you’ll be back.

    "You’re impossible!" Haley shot her a look definitely more angry than tearful, a fist clenched at her side while the other hand gestured in wide arcs. "What if my plane goes down? What if my family decides to stay in Ireland and we never see each other again? I’m going around the planet and you act like you don’t even care!" Her voice rose to angry-monkey pitch.

    Sally stared, completely at a loss. Haley’s dire predictions were ridiculous. She wouldn’t credit them even in imagination. Haley was letting her fears run wild.

    You’re not thinking straight, Sally spoke in her most reasonable tones. Nothing like that will happen.

    You can’t know for sure! You may never see me again and you don’t care!

    You’re getting worked up over situations that exist only in your head.

    Your head exists only in books and movies; you don’t know anything about real people.

    That’s not fair. Sally flinched as the words hit home.

    "Well maybe this time I don’t care." Haley’s scowl evoked images of sharp toothed, hungry-eyed predators.

    Weren’t you in a hurry to get home? Enough with the drama already.

    Okay! You don’t have to push! Haley mounted her bike and rode off at a much faster pace than they’d kept while talking together.

    Sally turned toward home, walking her bike along sidewalks fronting houses and small businesses. She bit back the confusing stew roiling below her ribs before it could form into anything as definitive as a feeling. It figured. Just as well Haley left before Sally could start thinking anybody would always be there for her. Her dad had left. Her mom left her to her own devices more often than not. Now Haley was leaving. Why should her friend be different? Sally should have learned by now she couldn’t count on anyone but herself.

    CHAPTER TWO

    SCHOOL’S OUT FOR SUMMER, SALLY sang tunelessly to herself as she locked up her bike, hooking the cable to the rack outside the back door of their unit. Their house ended the row of relatively new townhouses. The Cedar Estates occupied an entire city block landscaped with rows of surrounding cedars.

    At least until Monday, when the summer session starts. The thought comforted her. Haley would be gone for months; by the time she got back, she’d have forgotten all about whatever it was that had upset her so much. It was nothing Sally need fret over. She had other things to occupy her thoughts.

    She let herself in through the kitchen. Judging by the echoing silence, she had the place to herself. Her mother used the den-slash-third-bedroom off the kitchen as her home-studio-slash-office. She always had the radio on or some music playing when she was home. Like mother like daughter; Sally had turned her own bedroom upstairs more than half into an art-studio-slash-workroom.

    As soon as she’d dumped her backpack on the bed, she turned to the mandala sand painting project. The work in progress occupied the tabletop along the opposite side of the room. She’d made the table itself from an old door laid across a pair of two-drawer file cabinets her mother had discarded in favor of newer, larger ones.

    The project sparkled with traces of glitter amid the duller colors of sand she’d scrounged here and there: White sand from a beach in Korea, dull tan sand from a local beach, dark gritty asphalt bits from old parking lots. She’d ground the tarry chunks down between large stones. She had gotten a nice golden-tone sand by grinding up one chunk of sandstone and a reddish color from another variety of the stuff.

    She’d nearly completed the design. It had been calling to her all during her bon voyage ride with Haley. She stared at it now: the dark lines of the geometric design in the center were surrounded by signs and symbols gleaned from the local graffiti tags her mother made such a fuss about when they appeared in the alley or marking trash bins and junction boxes along the street.

    The symbols looked cool. The central device looked cool too. It had caught her eye in a book on arcane symbols when she’d gone looking for ideas. Supposedly, it was a spell for protection. She’d changed it to improve the symmetry, though kept the inner circle off-center above the outer circle. She’d filled most of the interstices with her various colors of sand, using narrow threads of the bright glitter to accent the lines.

    Or, rather, she’d outlined most of the main symbol’s lines before she ran out of the gold glitter. She’d been tempted to use another color for the rest, but that would’ve looked wrong, so she’d had to wait until she could get her mother to take her to Michaels yesterday and then she’d promised to get together with Haley and only now could she finally get back to her task.

    Sally sat before her masterpiece and drew a thin line of Elmer’s glue down the center of one of the remaining border lines, then filled her hand with the gold glitter and let a careful stream trickle out to fall along the line of glue. She gave it a minute, then lifted the heavy, fourteen-inch square plywood panel backing her work, turned it upside down and shook off the excess glitter onto a waiting sheet of paper. She repeated the process with the next line, and the next, filling in the remaining section of her design.

    After filling in the last line and shaking off the last bit of loose glitter, and then funneling the reclaimed stuff back into its tube, Sally set the panel up on edge, leaning it against the wall behind her workspace. She pushed her chair back a foot, then another, taking in the whole piece of art as a single thing, complete and whole although made from many parts: grains of sand and glitter, the many lines and combined sections of many colors…

    Those colors danced in her eyes – they seemed to pulse with their newborn power.

    She stood to adjust the gooseneck reading lamp above her bed to shine its light directly on her creation. Wow. Even the subtlest colors popped – not exactly Op art, but still suggesting movement, like an optical illusion. Sally stared, shifting her focus. Even with the changes she’d made to it, the design wasn’t entirely symmetrical. It wasn’t supposed to be. The top half used lighter colors and occupied more of

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