Mr. Kent’s Wall of Wonders
A Troubled Tweens Short Story
By DD Roy

Copyright © 2013


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Table of Contents

Mr. Kent’s Wall of Wonders: A Short Story Bonus to the Series

Sneak Peek of Jinnie Wishmaker, Book 1 of the Series

Sneak Peek of Marcus Mender, Book 2 of the Series

About the Troubled Tween Series

About the Author

Mr. Kent’s Wall of Wonders 
By D.D. Roy


Each year, Mr. Kent dreaded this day most of all. 
It wasn’t really the report that was due. The forms were easy to fill in now that headquarters had sent him the ScanBot 5000, which made categorizing all his magical items quite simple.
His problem waited in Cabinet 11. He faced the wall of doors, each a different color. They varied from the largest, which held a flying bicycle (the girl who eventually wrote the movie E.T. had lived near him as a boy and caught Mr. Kent riding it one night in front of the full moon), to the smallest, barely the size of a ring box, which held a small rock from Mars.
The bell rang, and he stood near the window watching the students of Trinity hurry by. He spotted Jinnie first, jostled among the faster students, lost in thought. No doubt she was hearing or sensing a dozen colliding wishes among the middle schoolers, all ringing inside her head for attention. She’d described it as a buzzing feeling, like when you rode in a car that vibrated really hard, making your stomach quiver. She’d gotten used to it, and now it didn’t make her feel sick, but the sensation still made it hard for her to focus on anything else.
Soon he saw Maddy and her twin sister Grace. Maddy stomped down the sidewalk, shoving people out of the way. She wore her crazy striped tights as usual. No doubt some teacher would be sending her to the office at some point during the day. 
Grace stepped daintily through the crowd, hugging other girls and smiling at everyone. Mr. Kent chuckled to himself. Grace glanced at the window and waved. She pointed at her wrist. He had loaned her a bright red bangle bracelet with a smiley face painted on it. She nodded and gave him a thumbs up. Good, that meant it was working.
Grace had a tendency to cry too much, and sometimes her bright smile was really hiding a deep and powerful sorrow. The enchanted bangle had the ability to cheer up anyone who wore it. You just had to tap the smiley face twice and think of one good thing that had happened to you. The happiness of that moment would then spread to your whole body, and any temporary sadness faded away.
Mr. Kent returned to his desk, shoving aside the normal school papers to reveal his report parchment. He no longer had to fill it out with a quill and ink, thank goodness, but the organization of the checkboxes had not changed in a hundred years, far before his time.
His door burst open, and Marcus flew into the room.
"Whatever’s the matter?" Mr. Kent asked.
"I fixed something that should have stayed broken!" He laid a bright yellow whistle on the table and backed away as if it might explode.
Mr. Kent studied the plastic outer shell. It had been cracked at one point, he could see. "What’s wrong with it?" He turned the mouthpiece toward him.
"Don’t point it at your mouth!"
A horrifying shriek blasted from the whistle like the scream of a ghost. Mr. Kent cupped the whistle in his hands, trying to muffle the sound.
"See?" Marcus shouted.
"How long will it sound like this?" Mr. Kent yelled over the noise.
The piercing screech abruptly ended.
"That long," Marcus said.
Principal Bower hurtled into the room, looking every direction at once. "What was that? Who is hurt? Should we call an ambulance?"
Mr. Kent kept the whistle tight in his palm. "Whatever do you mean?"
"That agonized sound I heard coming from here. Surely something fell on someone?" She studied Marcus and Mr. Kent then glanced behind the desk.
"We’re quite all right here," Mr. Kent said. "Perhaps it was the attendance office?"
Principal Bower backed slowly out of the rooms. "I’m not crazy. I heard that sound." She whirled and walked back into the hall.
Marcus sagged on the desk. "See?"
"Where did you get this?"
"Bruscilla threw it out the window of the bus after someone stepped on it. I figured it was Loki magic."
"Indeed." Mr. Kent didn’t dare open his hands again but nodded toward a blue cabinet on his wall. "Can you get that for me?"
Marcus opened the small door, and Mr. Kent thrust the whistle inside. It attempted another shrill cry, but he slammed the cabinet shut.
"I didn’t mean to fix it! I picked it up, and you know, I just did!"
Mr. Kent patted Marcus on the back. "You’ll get control of that power soon, and you’ll only fix things you intend to repair. Remember how Jinnie used to grant wishes haphazardly?"
"Boy do I." Marcus had gotten very sick after receiving ice cream he wished for as a joke.
"Now off to class. We’ll attend to that whistle at our next Troubled Tween meeting. The girls might know what Bruscilla intended to use it for."
Marcus nodded, shifting his backpack on his shoulders. "See you later."
Never a dull moment at Trinity. The final bell sounded, so Mr. Kent closed the door, locking it with his special key that would temporarily erase the memory of anyone who tried to turn the knob. They would walk away without remembering why they wanted to visit, and he could finish his inventory uninterrupted.


ScanBot 5000

He moved to Cabinet 18, where he’d placed the ScanBot after it arrived two weeks ago. He itched to get started. How much easier it would be to just open each door and quickly scan the object inside. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to keep Cabinet 11 under control this year.
The mandarin orange door revealed the sleek silver machine, about the size of a flashlight and just as simple. One button turned the ScanBot on, and a second one activated the scanner. A small screen displayed the scan results.
He opened the red door to Cabinet 1. Inside was a pair of magical dice. Despite appearing normal in every way, white cubes with black dots, no matter how you rolled, you always got double sixes. They had been great fun at parties when he was a teenager but weren’t very useful as battle magic. He aimed the ScanBot at the dice, pushed the red button, and a beam of light flashed as it captured the three-dimensional image. The screen lit up, showing a picture of the dice and "Dice: 2. Rolls double sixes."
Cabinet 2 was empty, where the smiley bangle should go. He’d scan it later, at the Troubled Tween meeting.
Cabinet 3 held magical lip gloss. He aimed the machine at it and pressed the button. The pink tube, swiped from his older sister in 1967, appeared on the screen. "Lip gloss: 1. Seals lips closed for approximately six minutes."
He laughed to himself, remembering when Keira had planned to tattle on him because he’d snuck out the night before to ride his flying bicycle. He’d enchanted the lip gloss to keep her from being able to tell his parents, but she was smarter than that, ripping a page from her notebook and writing it down. She had known about his power to add magic to everyday objects, but his parents had never been told.
He’d almost forgotten the jump rope inside Cabinet 4. The machine captured the image, pausing a moment to figure out its magic. "Jump rope: 1. Provides invisibility while activated." No one ever used the jump rope, as you were only invisible while you were jumping. He’d used it to sneak into a parent-teacher meeting at school, to see what they were saying about him. But of course, he’d tripped and as soon as the rope stopped skipping, he was visible again. Grounded two weeks. He should have made an invisible hat or something else easy. He’d only been nine then. He got smarter about it later.


In the Mood

Cabinet 5 held one of his favorites, a small velvet box with a mood ring inside. He tugged the silver scallop ring out, cradling it in his palm. He’d made the ring very shortly before his powers had left him when he was thirteen, during the period when he had frantically tried to make sure he had everything he needed to get him through a lifetime as a non-magical person. 
The ring turned the usual colors for regular people, but if you had abilities, whether you knew it or not, the ring would become clear. He’d last used it on Jinnie. The ring was his way of knowing who he was dealing with as he was growing up, and now, as a counselor and regional advisor, he used it to help young people recognize their abilities. He scanned it quickly and moved on to Cabinet 6.
He opened the pink cabinet to reveal an old-fashioned Polaroid picture that appeared to be faded to black. Mr. Kent held his breath a moment. Such a powerful object, one of the most impressive items he’d ever enchanted. He lifted it from the shelf, afraid to stare into its dark rectangle.
The image began to develop color and light. It showed him kneeling on the ground by Principal Bower, who had fainted dead away on the ground. Marcus stood behind her, looking shocked. Mr. Kent burst out laughing and quickly scanned the Polaroid with the bot. "Polaroid Photograph: 1," the screen read. "Provides a snapshot of the viewer’s life if they changed their very last decision."
Mr. Kent had chosen to lie to Principal Bower about the whistle, not the best policy, but the only option he could think of on short notice. The Polaroid showed what would have happened if he had made a different decision, one to tell her about the magic whistle. The image darkened back to black, awaiting the next person to look at it. He returned it to its cabinet.
He opened Cabinet 7 and immediately groaned. Now THAT had been a life changing enchantment. He’d used the slinky dozens of times. When you stretched it out, it made you super-humanly tall, so you could look in windows, climb up trees, or crawl on roofs. He’d used it so much that one time, when he’d stretched himself up to reach a kite in a tree, it had sprung and broken before collapsing all the way back down. This was why now, as an adult, he was still over seven feet tall.
He held the slinky, afraid to let it move even an inch. Marcus could fix it, he was certain, and use it to return himself to normal size. He looked down at the ground, imagining it much closer, and at his six-foot desk, which could be cut back down. Nah. He scanned the slinky and set it back inside its door. He was used to his height now. No use changing one of the things that made him unique.
A knock at his door startled him. He glanced at the magical key, still in the lock. "Mr. Kent?" a voice said. The principal again. "I have a student to see you."
Mr. Kent covered his hand with his sleeve so he could turn the knob without knocking out his own memory. Outside, Mrs. Bower waited with a wiggly young boy, probably a third grader. 
"Can it wait until later today?" he asked. "I’m in the middle of an urgent report."
"I’m afraid not."
Mr. Kent sighed. "Can you turn that knob for me, Mrs. Bower? I think it’s stuck."
"Well, okay." She grasped the brass knob then immediately let it go. She shook her head. "Why, hello, Mr. Kent! I came down the hall to—" She paused. "To do something." She looked down at the boy. "What are you doing here? Hustle to class now!"
The boy’s eyebrows shot up. "Really?"
"Go on," Mr. Kent said. 
The boy dashed down the hall and through the office doors. 
The principal frowned, still confused. "Thank you," she said absently and turned back down the hall.
He closed the door and leaned on it. Still so many cabinets to go. Some fifty in all. And that pesky number 11. The door to number 11 was brick red, menacing. Maybe he could skip it somehow. No doubt the moment he opened the door, even a crack, it would escape. If only this report was due during the summer, when he didn’t have to worry about students in the halls if it got loose.
He returned to Cabinet 8. Inside a black handkerchief lay neatly folded. He couldn’t resist and tugged it out, setting the ScanBot down a moment. He made a fist with his left hand and covered it with the fabric square. Immediately all the lights in the building went out. Someone shouted from the next room. When he lifted the handkerchief away, the light returned. Such a great trick. He did it once more, then scanned it into inventory and placed it back on the shelf.
Cabinet 9 was enormous, on the bottom, almost as big as the one next to it, 10, which held the bicycle. He opened the square door to reveal a red and white hula hoop. Again, he couldn’t help himself, laughing out loud as he pulled it out and stepped inside. As it began to spin around his waist, the room changed. The cabinets turned brown again, dull and ordinary. The desk shrunk back to normal size. The moon and star mobile hanging in the center of the room disappeared. Another man sat at the desk, surrounded by papers and a very old-fashioned telephone. He wore a funny wool suit and a little red bow tie. The calendar on the wall behind him read 1942.
The other man looked up, saw Mr. Kent, and stood. "Hey, who are you?"
Mr. Kent whirled the hula hoop faster and now the walls fell away. He stood on a construction site, steel girders surrounding him. Men in overalls unloaded brick from a big truck with a wooden bed, the kind he’d only seen in movies. 
A worker shouted, "Mind yer heads!" A big steel beam came right for his face!
Mr. Kent ducked and disrupted the spin of the hula hoop. It clattered to the ground and the scene quickly righted itself back to present day, the colored cabinets and his oversized desk. He stepped out of the hula hoop and scanned it. Sometime he’d have to take this toy home to find out the history of his house.
He opened Cabinet 10 and quickly scanned the bicycle. Too bad he could never take it for a spin, but after the slinky incident, it was miles too small for him to pedal fast enough to fly. If he’d known Jinnie would be riding to Silver’s house when she tried to retrieve her stolen wish from the magic thieves, he would have loaned her this one.
Now it was time for 11. Maybe he should skip it. If only the report wasn’t due so soon! But rules were rules. It had to be submitted during daylight on the 22nd of May, every year. On good years, this was a weekend, but not this time.
He took a deep breath and turned the dial of the combination lock that kept Cabinet 11 protected. He readied the scanner and cracked open the door. He pushed the end of the machine in and pressed the button then slammed the door shut.
The ScanBot bleeped a warning. "Scan failed" the display read.
Curses. He opened the door again, bracing his knee against it, and aimed the bot inside. Thumping noises startled him but he held the door tight.


Magic on the Loose

An image appeared on screen, turning in three dimensions. "Pogo stick: 1. Able to hop entire structures and achieve super sonic speeds exceeding—"
Mr. Kent fell back on the floor as the pogo stick knocked hard against the door and flung it open.
The stick sprung against the floor and smashed against the ceiling, knocking a hole in the plaster. Bits of white rained on Mr. Kent’s head as he scrambled back up. The pogo stick lunged for the door, and Mr. Kent grasped for it, tumbling forward to catch himself on the doorknob.
The door opened wide and the pogo stick made a break for the hallway. Mr. Kent let go of the doorknob, puzzled. Why had he opened the door? What had he just been doing?
He glanced down at the ScanBot in his hand. Something to do with the cabinets. He saw the display with the image of the pogo stick at the same time he heard a scream from the main office. Cabinet 11! He turned back to it and saw the open door and loose lock. It had escaped!
He dropped the ScanBot on a chair and ran down the hall. The students in the office sat shocked, the secretary standing over the long front desk with her mouth open.
"Rogue pogo," Mr. Kent said. "Mechanical remote control thing." He ran out in the main hall just as the pogo launched itself into the ceiling again, this time getting entangled in the "Welcome to Trinity" banner. Mr. Kent caught up to it, holding out his arms in hopes of snatching it. If he could get on the darn thing, he could steer it back to his office. It wasn’t easy, as he was too tall for it, but he’d done it before. 
The metal pole crashed in front of him, and he managed to get his hands around the handles before it took off again. He realized his mistake as soon as it sprung up again, his head going straight for the concrete ceiling.
He angled the bars and leaned forward, neatly flipping as they went up so that the bottom of the pogo hit up top. Now they were hurtling toward the floor. Mr. Kent let go before he smashed into the tile, rolling into the wall. The pogo took off for the atrium.
A bell rang and students spilled out of the room. This was a disaster. He chased after the pogo, shouting, "Back away! Remote control machine gone batty!"
Maddy and Grace caught up to him. "What can we do?"
The pogo appreciated the height of the main entrance, where stairs led to a second floor, bouncing up and down in place. Shocked students lined the staircases, watching it.
The three of them stood away from the crowd to discuss their options. "Do you think my power works on a machine?" Grace asked.
Mr. Kent watched the silver stick, considering this. "Have you ever calmed down anything but people?"
"She hasn’t," Maddy said. "But it’s worth a shot."
"I don’t know," Mr. Kent said. "This thing is pretty dangerous. If it gets outside, it can jump entire buildings."
Jinnie ran up and set her books on the floor. "I can help. That thing might be a thing, but it has enough personality to have a wish."
"What can that thing want?" Maddy said. "It’s a bunch of metal and a spring."
"Isn’t it obvious?" Grace said. "It wants freedom."
"That’s the one thing it isn’t going to get," Mr. Kent said.
"Nope," Jinnie said. "What it wants is a rider."
"I’m up for it," Grace said. "Just tell me what to do."
"I’m going to grant the wish," Jinnie said. "Just make sure you’re the rider it gets."
"It won’t know what hit it," Maddy said. "You could calm Genghis Khan into a having a tea party."
Jinnie and Grace inched forward. The pogo seemed to sense the encroachment on its territory and began to bounce faster, inching toward the glass panes surrounding the front entrance.
"Act fast," Grace said. "It’s planning to bust out of here."
Jinnie stared at the pogo. "I got it," she said. "I feel the buzz."
"Be careful," Mr. Kent said. "It’s pretty erratic."
"Any idea how this is going to work?" Grace asked.
"None," Jinnie said. "Just get as close as you can."
Grace edged up to the pogo again. The bouncing intensified.
Jinnie put her hands over her ears and shouted, "NOW!"
Grace jumped for the pogo stick, gliding through the air and landing perfectly on the footrests. But her hands couldn’t catch the handlebars, so she awkwardly wrapped her arms around the center pole.
"Grab it with your hands!" Maddy shouted. "You have to hold it!"
Grace struggled with the pogo stick, which seemed to want to buck her off.
"I though it WANTED a rider," Maddy said.
"It does," Jinnie said, "It just isn’t used to them."
Grace managed to move up the pole and clasped her hands around the t-bar. The pogo stick made one last lunge, then its bouncing slowed. "I got it," Grace said, laughing. "It’s working like normal now!"
"Bring it back to my office," Mr. Kent said. "Take it easy, not too high."
The students parted to allow Grace through as she hopped down the hallway and back to the main office. "I’m going to let it stretch its legs a bit," Grace said. They zigzagged down the hallway.
"If that pogo could laugh, I think it would," Maddy said.
But Mrs. Bower stepped in their path, hands on her hips. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded "You’ve disrupted the entire school day!"
"Sorry, no time to explain," Mr. Kent called. "Come, Grace, to the office!" He led them down the narrow corridor. "Steady, now, watch the door."
Grace steered the pogo into the office.
"Get as close to that open cabinet as you can, then we’ll toss it inside," Mr. Kent said.
Grace gripped the handlebars more tightly, forcing the pogo to slow to tiny little hops. Mr. Kent opened the door wide. "On the count of three, jump off and push it in. Ready? One. Two. THREE!"
Grace flung the pogo stick into the cabinet, where it immediately smashed itself into the top wall. Mr. Kent slammed the door shut and rapidly closed the lock.
"Whew!" he said. "Grace, you really saved the day."
"What did you let that thing out for?" she asked.
"Inventory," he said. "Once a year."
Mrs. Bower filled the doorway, scowling and angry. "Will someone please explain this situation to ME?"
Mr. Kent, Grace, Maddy, and Jinnie all looked at each other.
"I think we’re busted," Maddy said. 
"I’ll say you are!" Principal Bower said. "All of you, in my office!"
They walked past her into the hallway. Principal Bower looked back in the office as if to see if they’d left any evidence that could be used against them.
"What are we going to do?" Grace whispered. "We can’t tell her about the magic."
"Don’t worry about a thing," Mr. Kent said. "Mrs. Bower, would you mind closing my door?"
And Mrs. Bower grasped the doorknob. She let go as if she’d been shocked and shook her head. "What are you girls doing out of class?"
Maddy caught on immediately. "We had to deliver a note to Mr. Kent."
"Well, hurry along!"
Mr. Kent motioned for the girls to move down the hall. "That’s right, girls. See you after school. And thank you!"
Mrs. Bower pressed her fingers to her forehead. "I can’t remember a thing lately."
"You should take more B vitamins." He returned to his office, careful to use his sleeve on the knob.
Whew. He picked up the ScanBot again. Still almost forty objects to scan, but the worst was over. He squinted at the sun outside his window. Plenty of time to get it done.


First chapter of Jinnie Wishmaker
Troubled Tween series book #1




Grandma’s new walking cane swished through the air like a Samurai sword, definitely aiming for Uncle Martin’s head.
“You are not taking these children,” she said, pointing the rubber end of the stick at his nose.
Uncle Martin took a step back and unfurled a sheaf of paper. “Ma, it’s a done deal. I have the power of attorney right here.”
Jinnie braced herself against the doorframe as she and Bryan peeked down the hall to the living room. Her brother leaned close, his face next to her ear. “What’s a power of a turny?”
“Shhh.”
Grandma’s cane wavered as her arms started to give out. “This is the only home they’ve known since their parents disappeared.”
Uncle Martin took the cane away, setting it against the wall. “I know. But we need to think of your health.”
“I’m healthy as a mule.”
Uncle Martin shook his head, rubbing his fat moustache. “You just spent four days in the hospital.”
Don’t let him do it, Jinnie thought. Please don’t let him take us.
Grandma stepped closer to Uncle Martin. Her stride still hitched from her fall at the supermarket. “What will your brother say when he comes back and you’ve made off with his children?”
Uncle Martin rolled the papers back into a tight coil. “It’s been a year with no word, Ma. You know he’s not coming back.”
Grandma pressed her hand against her chest and lowered herself onto the sofa. “I don’t believe that.” 
She was going to give in. Jinnie backed down the hall. “We have to run away,” she told Bryan, grasping his arm. “Now.”
Bryan’s face went all splotchy, like it always did when he was upset. “To Brazil? To find Mom and Dad?”
Jinnie pushed him toward the bedroom they shared. “If the police can’t find them, then we can’t either.”
“Where are we going?” Bryan plopped onto his bed. 
Jinnie snatched her ragged backpack from the corner. “I don’t know. Anywhere.”
Newspaper clippings about their parents covered her bulletin board. “Protestors disappear in Amazon Basin.” “Authorities call off search for activist couple.” Jinnie began unpinning the articles and shoving them into her bag.
Bryan slid to the floor and pulled his suitcase out from under the bed, sniffing. Jinnie glanced at him now and then as he loaded his electronic sets with elaborate creations made of circuit boards, broken toys, and wire. He was only nine. She’d never been able to toughen him up, but she couldn’t go without him. Nobody should have to live with Aunt Barb and Uncle Martin. They were rich, big-headed snobs.
A shadow crossed her as the tall figure of their uncle stood in the doorway.
“You’re packing already,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Good little Wishners. But we’re going to give you a couple days. We’ll send a driver after you.” He knelt down by Bryan. “You want to ride in a limo, don’t ya? Be one of the cool kids?”
Jinnie froze over the open dresser drawer, her face burning. How could this creepy guy be her dad’s brother? Her parents wanted to improve the planet, not own it.
Bryan closed his suitcase. “Does it have a swimming pool inside?”
Uncle Martin chuckled as Aunt Barb pushed her way into the room with a swish of satin scarves and flowing sleeves. She rushed to Bryan, pressing her hands on his cheeks. “You won’t have to be poor one more day, baby dear. We’re going to take very good care of you.” Very came out more like “vewwy.” Baby talk.
Jinnie stifled a groan and started tugging shirts from the drawer. Let them think they were packing for them. Her aunt and uncle were like the egg people she’d made one time at school. Hollow on the inside, fancy and decorated on the shell.
*
Moonlight lit the hallway as Jinnie eased her door open and peered toward Grandma’s room. They’d tried to run away the last two nights, but Bryan kept falling asleep. Uncle Martin’s limo would be arriving in the morning, so she’d made her brother drink three cokes this time.
He started jumping on the bed, the battered headboard banging against the wall.
“Bryan!” She quickly closed the door, leaping onto the mattress to drag him down. “Stop the noise!”
He buzzed in slow circles around the room. “Do we know where we’re going yet?” His blond hair stood up in every direction, eyes bright with caffeine.
“The museum.” Her fifth grade teacher had read a book to them, Mixed-Up Files something or another, and it gave her the idea. A brother and sister had lived in a museum for weeks.
Bryan froze in place. “Whoa. We going to sleep there too?”
“Maybe.” Jinnie clutched her backpack, stuffed with her camera and photographs and a few clothes. She really had no idea, but that wasn’t going to stop her. “Now let’s go.” 
Bryan followed closely with exaggerated marching steps, dragging his suitcase along the floor.
“Can’t you pick that up?” she asked, wincing at every bump and scrape.
“It’s too heavy.”
Jinnie sighed and grasped the handle. “Here, let’s trade.” She passed him her backpack.
She opened the door to the bedroom, checking the hallway again. Still silent and dark.
They crept toward the living room, Jinnie straining under the weight of the suitcase. Bryan resumed marching, his sneakers thudding on the wood floor.
“Stop!” she hissed.
They paused again, listening for sounds of Grandma Wishner in her room. Jinnie moved forward, sweat beading across the face, her back already aching. She’d have to set the suitcase down soon.
The clock in the living room suddenly chimed. She hefted the bag against her thigh and wobbled forward. “Hurry, we can get out the door while there’s noise.”
Bryan started marching again, but Jinnie didn’t have time to make him stop. Clearly three cokes had been way too much.
They crossed the living room, and Bryan rammed into a side table.
Jinnie didn’t dare say anything. Six chimes, only five to go.
Bryan darted around the table, knees still high. Just go, she thought. Come on.
The door creaked lightly as it opened into the night. “Get through!” she whispered. 
Bryan slipped outside, and Jinnie stepped onto the porch, pulling the door closed.
“We made it!” Bryan said, his face in shadow. He started darting up and down the front steps.
Jinnie lurched forward with the bag. They couldn’t walk too far with this overloaded suitcase. “Please calm down. What do you have in this thing?”
“Electronics. Tools. Books.” Bryan peered out into the street.
“What are the books for?” Jinnie didn’t have much use for those. She’d pretty much given up on reading in second grade when she got that stupid label. Learning disabled. Whatever.
“I like books.”
Jinnie braced the bag against her thighs. “Your funeral.”
They both stared across the shadowed lawn, Bryan bouncing lightly in place.
“Stay out of the light,” Jinnie said. “Stick close to the houses until we get to the bus stop.” The routes ran most of the night in this part of Houston. They could take the 73 down to the station, sleep in the bathroom like she’d seen in a movie once, and then go to the science museum in the morning to scope out a place to hide when it closed. She didn’t have a plan beyond that.
They tiptoed past Grandma Wishner’s window. The lights were all out. Jinnie held the suitcase with both hands, swinging it away from her body to take each step.
Suddenly the handle broke. The suitcase sailed forward, crashing against the house in a clang of metal.
“Jinnie!” Bryan leapt for his bag.
A light popped on overhead. Jinnie flattened herself against the wall, hoping Grandma wouldn’t see them if she looked out. The glass pane slid up with a swoosh.
But Bryan couldn’t leave his suitcase alone. He tipped it over, and the contents settled with another clatter.
Grandma leaned out the window and looked down, a white cloth pinned to her head. “What on earth are you children up to?”
Jinnie and Bryan looked at each other. There was no getting out of this one.
“Get on back in here. You don’t want me to come out.”
Jinnie clutched the broken suitcase as she trudged inside. Grandma waited in their room, arms crossed. When they set down their bags, she opened the closet door. “Take off your shoes,” she said over her shoulder.
She turned around with her arms full of sneakers, flip flops, sandals—every pair they owned.
“Now hand me the ones you’re wearing too,” she said. “There will be no more sneaking out tonight. Not unless you want to run away barefoot.”
Jinnie fell back on her bed, burying her face in her arms. She’d failed. Failed again. 
Grandma sat next to her, arms loaded with shoes, her weathered face pale and tired. “Jinnie, I wish things could be some other way. I don’t want to see you go.”
Bryan sat on the floor, untying his knotted laces. “Will it be awful?”
“Oh no,” she said. “Think of all the things you’ll have—rooms of your own, and clothes, and a fancy private school.”
“Nothing is worth living with those people,” Jinnie said.
Grandma closed her eyes a moment and took a deep breath. “There’s no doubt that your Uncle Martin is light years different from your daddy. Sometimes I wonder how I could have raised two boys so opposite. But he is a Wishner. And you’re a Wishner. And we’ve all got to stick together.”
“I don’t want to stick myself anywhere near them,” Jinnie said.
Grandma pulled her shoe pile further up her lap. “I think you’ll discover that things are going to change for you very soon. I’ve protected you, but soon you’ll learn you’re more powerful than you think.”
Jinnie snorted. “Right, that’s why we have no say on anything.”
Bryan’s cheeks bloomed pink as he passed his shoes to Grandma. “Are mom and dad ever coming back?” he asked. “You said you didn’t believe Uncle Martin.”
Grandma relaxed her arms. The shoes slid down her lap and onto the floor, a cascade of worn canvas, rubber soles, and dirt. “I think all of us are about to have a whole lot more faith in our family.”
Jinnie didn’t buy it in the least.
*
Jinnie scowled out the window of the limo the next day, red and yellow flowers whizzing by as she and Bryan hurtled toward Austin and their new home.
She slid her finger along the ridges of her camera, trying to decide if she should ask Robert to stop and let her photograph the blooms. She couldn’t tell if he was a good guy or not. He worked for Uncle Martin. Probably not.
Bryan started flipping the lid on the trash compartment in the console between them. “Do you think they’ll be mean to us?”
Jinnie turned away from the window. “Ha. They’ll never leave us alone. Like pets.” Guinea pigs, actually.
Bryan pulled the collar of his yellow sweater away from his neck. “Are we going to have to dress like this all the time?”
“They’re sending us to a private school. It’s probably going to get worse. Uniforms.” Watching him, Jinnie felt the urge to tug at her own fancy dress. Her aunt left specific instructions about what they should wear for the trip, and Grandma had just silently handed them the clothes that arrived with the driver and the limo.
The window separating their compartment from the front seat rolled down with a gentle hum. Robert glanced back at them. “Almost there. You kids ready?”
They didn’t answer. Bryan’s cheeks had turned splotchy again.
The sunlight behind the mansion looked as though Aunt Barb had special ordered it. Light spilled across the lake, creating a hot line of gold that led right up to the dock and their back yard.
Robert pressed a switch in the dash and huge iron gates opened silently, leading to a curved driveway that circled before a fountain of a woman pouring water from a pail.
Jinnie stared at the enormous limestone house. Her aunt and uncle opened the double front doors and stepped out onto the marble porch. A gust of wind caught the fluttering scarves of Aunt Barb’s outfit, and they whipped around her thin body like a maypole. Uncle Martin put his arm around her, smiling broadly beneath his moustache.
Robert opened Jinnie’s door. The dry breeze pushed the loose sprigs of hair from her ponytail into her face. 
“Come on up, children!” Aunt Barb called, gesturing with her long arms. “We have a surprise.”
A photographer lugged an oversized camera and a tripod out the front door. Jinnie strained to see what sort of gear he had, but Robert pressed behind her and Bryan, pushing them up the stairs.
“Our first family photo!” Aunt Barb said, shifting slightly to angle her hips and shoulders. “Come up here with us.”
That would explain the clothes. They had been forced to wear them for over three hours just to take a picture. Jinnie lumbered up the stairs, her feet heavy. Bryan also seemed to hesitate, and she ran into him when he stopped abruptly on the last step.
Uncle Martin laid his hand on Bryan’s shoulder, pulling him close. Aunt Barb turned Jinnie to the camera and tugged her hair out of the ponytail. Jinnie welled with resentment as the photographer peered through the eyepiece.
“Smile, children!” Aunt Barb said.
Just as the white light burst upon them, Jinnie thought, this is not and will never be my family.

Jinnie Wishmaker is available on all the major ebook sites and in Library Hardcover as well as paperback. Learn more at DD Roy’s blog.
First Chapter of Marcus Mender
Troubled Tweens series book #2



Marcus broke into a run as he headed down the empty hallway to the front of the school. He crashed through the door and out into the heat. The entrance to St. Martin’s Academy was no different than when he’d arrived that morning. The same concrete sidewalk stretched up from the circle where the buses parked. The brown-tipped grass still wilted in the afternoon sun.
But for him, nothing would ever be the same. He looked down at his hands, almost expecting sparks to fly out of them.
“Marcus, what’s up?” His friend Grace pushed her way outside, her black ponytails swinging. “Why did you ditch the Troubled Tween meeting?”
“I just couldn’t sit there any longer.” Marcus made his hands into fists. “I finally have my magic power!”
Maddy blew through the door, panting. “You people are trying to kill me.” She collapsed on the stairs, her legs in striped stockings spread out in front of her, hair frizzed out in every direction. “What’s with mender boy?”
“He’s excited. It’s natural.” Grace sat next to her sister. The twins couldn’t look any more different, one dark-skinned in a perfect uniform with smooth ponytails framing a gentle, happy face. And the other, pale, mop-headed, her white shirt untucked from the navy skirt and the striped legs almost a violation of the school dress code.
Marcus wanted to stop people in the street and tell them what had happened. “We really can’t tell anybody we have powers?”
“Thems the rules,” Maddy said. “Besides, everyone already thinks we’re freaks.”
The three of them were part of a secret group that met after school with their counselor, Mr. Kent, to practice magic. Marcus had been allowed in earlier that year even though he didn’t have his power yet. Mr. Kent told him it would come. Most magical kids got their powers by the end of fifth grade. With only a week left of school, he had wondered if he really was magical at all.
“I want to fix something else!” The amulet Mr. Kent handed him during the meeting had been lifeless and dead until he held it. But somehow, he’d made it work. Now he was dying to try again. He looked around the school yard. One of the large stone planters had a crack in it. He moved in closer.
Grace popped her head over the stone ledge of the stairs. “See anything?”
“This pot. It’s broken.”
Grace ran down the stairs. “Ooooo, let me watch. The amulet happened too fast.”
Marcus brushed aside a trail of yellow flowers to lay his hands across the crack. The pot was rough and warm in the afternoon sun, but as he pressed his palms against it, the clay grew extra hot.
“What’s happening?” Grace asked.
“It’s heating up,” Marcus said, anxiety rising. Surely it wouldn’t burn him.
Beneath his fingers, he could sense the pot shifting, the molecules rearranging like in the movie their science teacher had shown about melting steel.
Grace touched the pot. “Is it working?”
“I think so.” He moved his hands away.
“Creepers,” Grace whispered. “Look at that.” The crack was gone.
A bus honked behind them.
“Troubled Tween bus!” Maddy called. “Time to mingle with the mad people.”
Marcus backed away from the pot and headed back to the stairs for his backpack.
“Come on!” Grace called.
He raced across the lawn to the waiting bus, but when he got to the door, Grace and Maddy were still outside it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“The Anger Management kids,” Grace said. “They’re not here.”
Maddy pushed past her. “All the better. No crazy people trying to fight us!”
Marcus shifted his backpack on his shoulder. “Maybe they’re staying late.”
Grace turned away from the bus, so the driver couldn’t hear her. “I don’t know. Something feels different.” She looked down at Marcus’s hands. “Do you really think it’s a coincidence? You found out just half an hour ago that you had a magical power, and now our enemies have gone missing?”
Maddy popped her head out a window. “Maybe Marcus fixed the whole planet, and the Loki aren’t in it anymore!”
Grace shook her head. “We Vor are supposed to balance out the world, not take it over.” She turned back to the bus and clomped up the steps.
Marcus followed her. He didn’t care what the magic thieves were up to, as long as they stayed away from him until he knew what he was doing. His friend Jinnie had a wish stolen by the Loki just yesterday because she couldn’t control her power. She’d had to fight the hulking Silver Wiggins to get it back.
He plopped in a seat opposite Maddy and Grace. The vinyl in front of him had a long rip. He laid his hand on it, feeling it grow warm with his touch. When he pulled away, the tear was gone.
Maddy leaned over. “You know, I’ve got a whole room full of junk for you to fix. When are you coming over?”
Grace shoved her. “No using his power for yourself.”
“Ugh,” Maddy said. “This good-guy stuff is no fun at all.” She looked out over the school as they pulled away. “Maybe the Loki have the right idea.”
Marcus rubbed his hands together. He didn’t care about any of that right now. His life was starting all over. He’d never be the plain old fifth grader he’d been before.

Marcus Mender is available on all the major ebook sites and in paperback. Learn more at DD Roy’s blog.
About the Troubled Tween Series

D.D. Roy envisioned a set of stories where kids were the heroes and adults needed their help, pretty much exactly the way the world works. All of the fourth to seventh graders in the stories have their own unique and unpredictable powers.

  

In Jinnie Wishmaker (2011), Jinnie discovers she can grant any living thing its one true wish and enters the magical world of the Vor and Loki.

In Marcus Mender (coming late 2012), Marcus’ lack of control of his power may be just the thing needed to save the Vor from the Loki, just as the magnetic changes in South America cause the Troubled Tweens to turn to the bad side.

In Elektra Chaos (2013), Loki member Elektra, who has become one of the good guys after the magnetic fields create a switch between good and evil, has to work her power to get the world reverted back to the proper sides of right and wrong.
About D.D. Roy

D.D. Roy wrote her first story “Blackie and the Garbage Dump Dogs” when she was in elementary school. As a teen, she tried to destroy her little hand-made books, but if you get a chance to meet D.D.’s mom, she will whip out the one surviving copy, still to D.D.’s total embarrassment. 

D.D.'s iPad/iPhone storybook app for children, Dust Bunnies: Secret Agents, was released by Polycot Labs in 2012. Jinnie Wishmaker is her first novel for middle grade readers.

Visit her blog at http://ddroy.blogspot.com for behind-the-scenes looks at the Troubled Tweens.






Copyright D.D. Roy 2012

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owners of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The authors acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of any product referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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