Text and images copyright - Michael Smith - Doodle Bag Productions |
Week 2
08.27.10
Sara picked herself up from the ground and dusted off her knees, “Where in the world am I?” Looking around she could see a great big field full of grass and rolling hills in the distance, “and how the heck did I get here?” The beanbag was slumped on the ground next to a dirt road that was swinging its way back to a log house in the distance with a great big chimney. The sun was high in the sky and the wind was blowing the grass happily along the edge of the little path.
“Well, this stuff isn’t going to clean itself.” Sara began to gather her books that had been scattered around, finding the book about the boy wizard in the roots of a nearby tree, and a grabbing book about a wardrobe that was hanging from the limbs above, it had her straw stuck into its spine. She had just reached for another book that had landed wide open when she heard her name in the distance. The noise scared her so much that she tossed everything high in the air and spun around looking for who called her.
“Sara!” Came the quiet call again, but she couldn’t see anyone nearby.
“Who’s there!?” But no one could be seen!
“Sara!” There it was again! She looked around and the book that had been perched on her head flopped over and landed next to the one she had been reading before she was sucked down into the beanbag. It was still open to her favorite page, and she reached for the open book when she realized that the page didn’t have the pictures anymore! Instead of horses she was looking at Ms. Robinson and all of her class staring back up at her!
“That is really strange! What are you guys doing in that book?” Ms. Robinson waved for Sara to pick up the book.
“Sara, you have to cli…” Sara was reaching for the book but she could barely hear Ms. Robinson, the wind was picking up now and blowing even harder making the pages of the book flap back and forth! Suddenly the page that Ms. Robinson was on ripped from the book and floated on the breeze high into the air and off into the distance.
“Come back!” Sara called
“Who are you talking to?” A new voice questioned from behind her and Sara turned to see a little girl about her age wearing a plaid dress and brown buckle boots, behind the girl a family was climbing down from a wagon.
“You’re Laura Ingalls!” Sara exclaimed and the little girl in front of her looked confused.
“Nope, I’m Maura, Maura Shingles, and who are you?