Fantasticy
an excerpt

Narrator’s note:
Before I begin this story, I will say upfront that it seems impossible. However, it needs to be written somewhere so I figured I should damn well try. My sisters have given their first hand accounts to corroborate with mine—or rather they didn’t have to because I stole their diaries. You know how sisters can be. Regardless, I will relate this in an objective manner as best to my ability.
—Ben Kirk

It was a day like any other…only it wasn’t, of course. Perhaps if it had started out as something out of the ordinary, we might have been more prepared, but, as it stands, it was just an average, dull-as-safety-scissors day. Naturally this couldn’t be tolerated for long so my sisters, Jaclyn and Carrie, decided to annoy me for no reason. It wasn’t as though I had put salt in their milk at breakfast or gone with a frog in the bed (can’t beat the classics). That was the day before and I do know how to space my entertainment. So there I was, minding my own business, and they ambushed me. As much as I love summer break and the joy of freedom, there was, and so it will always be, nothing to do in this tiny town. So I had to bear the brunt of their boredom when Mom was at work. Mom did a fantastic job managing us and a job, considering how much of a handful my sisters are; I mean, she actually hasn’t strangled one of them yet and we haven’t lost the house or power so she must have been doing something right. Plus, she knows better than to get us to eat peas, at least not without the inducement of ice cream afterwards to quell our rolling stomachs.

Anyway, I hid from them and their torture devices…damn those boy bands and Uncle Jake for those iPods. Pop music…why? I’m not exactly sure what happened next, but it most certainly didn’t involve any revenge seeking on my part, nor finding the solution in a creepy old book…which in retrospect I never did stop to think about where it came from. Really though, how it appeared didn’t really matter. The fact that it had my solution scribbled right across the thick, yellow pages was certainly a perk. And I could always shove it back in its hiding spot later if I hadn’t burned it for its lack of usefulness.

Marching right up to the porch, I plopped down on the porch swing next to Jackie who was reading something from her summer reading list, which never made sense to me, I mean she had six more weeks of nothing and she was finishing her list now? Carrie was content to play with her Barbies, considering she hadn’t grown out of them yet; she was lucky enough to have missed a summer reading assignment, but then again she was ten and both of them liked reading for some reason anyway.

Jaclyn lifted her eyes from her book and commented, “I don’t know what you’re up to, but you’d better just leave us alone.”

I held my retort back and instead gave a smug grin, knowing full well that the book promised one heck of a thing.

“I’m not kidding, Ben. You may not listen to me, but you’ll listen to Mom when she gets home and she’s not going to like what you did to the kitchen.”

“Whatever, Jack. Take a look at this.” I thrust the old book in front of her.

Sure Jackie always had loved old books and she gleefully lifted the cover of this one to peep inside, once she overcame her suspicions, of course. My instincts had told me that it was something special (besides the long, rambly promise my page had held), but I became to wonder if perhaps I hadn’t read the page correctly earlier. When she didn’t vanish immediately or scream in a fantastic way as the interdemensional drift opened up, and really was far too happy about the book, I tried to yank it from her. Naturally, she refused to let go and latched on.

“Let go!”

“No! You gave it to me, you little bastard.”

I calmly explained, “You weren’t supposed to like it. I found it and I’m taking it back.”

Carrie glanced up and was instantly on to her feet. Her hands firmly settled on the book and she pulled it toward Jackie’s direction.

“You’re going to rip it, Ben,” Jackie hissed as a lock of deep brown hair that strayed from her braid tumbled in front of her face.

I suppose this is the point where fate chose to turn its back on the three of us. The tug of war continued…then, naturally, the stupid spell finally kicked in. Damn cheap spell. I’d write exactly what the book said here but it’s hard to tell a story to an audience that has disappeared to some far off place (and then where would the royalties be?). Use your own imaginations. Throw in some glitter or some brightly colored smoke if you please.

All we got was a huge BANG.