The Vine

By Tami Brumbaugh

Plunge through a hole in a vine wall into a land based on John 15. This land is filled with people, animals and grapes of all hues. It is tended by a mysterious gardener and threatened by a deceptive crow. In this allegory, Bethany’s journey will show children ages 8-14 the relationship they can have with God (the Gardener) through Jesus (the Vine). They will also witness Bethany grow as she learns to place her confidence in the Gardener and stands up for what is right. The story even goes beyond John 15 and encompasses the life, death and resurrection of Christ to complete the journey of redeeming grace.

Bethany rescues her dog, Cherokee from an entanglement in a grapevine wall, and discovers a fantastic world that the wall envelopes. She becomes friends with several of the garden's inhabitants until a crow accuses Bethany of setting a series of traps that threatens their security. In an effort to uncover the truth and prove her innocence, Bethany embarks on a journey to the Gardener's cottage. Crow plots to destroy the Vine wall and seems victorious...until three days later.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tami Brumbaugh
• Release date: Dec 3, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466051911

Tami Brumbaugh

Tami Brumbaugh is a teacher and freelance writer. Although born in Colorado, she now lives with her husband and two daughters (and numerous pets) in Olathe, Kansas. She is passionate about writing uplifting, character-building stories for children and teens. She also thrives on writing stories about nonprofit organizations dedicated to helping people in need around the world. Several of these books were published by Beacon Hill Press and Rock Hill Press. Her short stories have been published by Pockets, On the Line, Celebrate, Shine Brightly, Partners, and Discoveries. Please continue to check Smashwords.com for her growing list of ebooks.

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THE VINE

By Tami Brumbaugh

Published by Crescendo Books

at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Tami Brumbaugh

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1: New Neighbor

Chapter 2: Out of Place

Chapter 3: Grape Education

Chapter 4: Crow's Counsel

Chapter 5: The Gardener

Chapter 6: The Talking Crate

Chapter 7: Snares and Ropes

Chapter 8: Accused

Chapter 9: Growling on the Journey

Chapter 10: The Shortcut

Chapter 11: Gardener's Cottage

Chapter 12: Bad Grapes

Chapter 13: Lost Lizard

Chapter 14: Throw Water

Chapter 15: Sunrise

Chapter 16: Sick Neighbor

CHAPTER 1: NEW NEIGHBOR

At first glance, the small cluster of homes appeared like any other. They huddled together side by side in curving lines. Each house was shaped like a shoebox, peppered with large windows and shutters. They were a plain mix of tans, creams or beige. (Except for the house owned by Mr. Fredricks. His house was a bright mint green—much to the dismay of his neighbors.)

The sidewalks had settled and cracked, and some of the roads had large potholes. Sky-scraping trees shaded the homes, while rose bushes, petunias, and assorted greenery adorned the front yards.

The community had one unique feature that set it apart. Behind the fourth row of houses lay an expanse of undeveloped land. No one suspected its true contents. Years ago, neighbors feared it would be leveled and turned into a mall. Development then headed in a different direction. Even existing shops began to struggle for business. The land was labeled ‘undesirable.’ To this day, it appeared quiet and undisturbed. It was so thick with trees, weeds, and vines that people gave up exploring it. That is, until Bethany Jenkins arrived.

Bethany moved into the seventh house on Sycamore Drive, right next to the house with six ceramic deer, three garden gnomes, and two plastic bunnies guarding the front yard. Her backyard bordered the forest.

Two neighbors stopped by to welcome her family to the community. One brought an apple pie. Another brought chocolate-chip cookies.

If you need anything, just let us know, they said.

Not everyone was excited about their arrival.

Have you met the new family? Mrs. Proboscis asked as she pruned her lilac bushes. She studied the Jenkins home across the street.

Her next door neighbor, Mr. Thudder, looked up from his evening paper. No, can’t say that I have. Not directly at least. They seem quiet enough.

For now, maybe. Mrs. Proboscis frowned. They have three children and that means trouble. At least the older two are girls. The youngest is a boy and I’ll bet he’ll be terrorizing the neighborhood.

Looks to me like he can’t do much harm. He’s not even walking yet. He’d have to crawl a long ways to bother you.

Well, then he’ll be waking us up with wailing in the night. I’ll have to start taking sleeping pills again.

Mr. Thudder rolled his eyes. They have been here three weeks and I haven’t heard him.

You just wait. And that oldest girl. What’s her name? Britney? Betsy? She has to be at least eleven, and that’s when kids get rebellious. Soon, she’ll be racing up and down the street in a noisy car and crashing into things.

Mrs. Thudder poked her head out the window. Phone call, she yelled.

Good timing, Mr. Thudder muttered as he fled indoors.

Oh, Edna. Come on out, said Mrs. Proboscis. I was just talking about that oldest Jenkins girl, Becky.

Mrs. Thudder stepped onto her porch. From across the street? You mean Bethany?

I guess so. Does she know how to talk?

Oh, yes. She seems shy at first, but her mother says she just needs to warm up to people. We had a nice chat yesterday. Such a pretty girl.

I suppose. She does have pretty brown eyes. I have brown eyes too you know. But what’s up with her always wearing a ponytail? She’s going to damage her hair always having it up like that. I say if you have long curly hair, you should take care of it. Don’t go sticking rubber bands in it all the time or you’ll break it.

I’m sure her hair is fine. Mrs. Thudder eyed her front door longingly.

Speaking of hair, have you seen their dog? I guess it’s a dog. Almost looks like a cat. What a load of fur that thing has! It’s barking is going to do me in…

What, honey? I’ll be right in. Excuse me. Mrs. Thudder escaped into her home.

Really, Mrs. Proboscis said to herself. What is the neighborhood coming to? No one likes to have a pleasant conversation anymore.

Bethany did indeed have a dog. A small one, admittedly, but a great companion. She was a five pound Pomeranian named Cherokee.

After living in the city, with very little room to explore, Bethany and Cherokee were excited to find so much land to roam. Every day after lunch, they set out to search a new area.

On this particular day, the sun was beating on their necks, so they plunged into the thick of the forest. Pine trees stood shoulder-to-shoulder with maple and ash trees. The ground was strewn with pine needles that crunched as they walked. Grasshoppers hopped out of their way, occasionally jumping onto Bethany’s legs. She brushed them off, wishing she wore jeans instead of shorts.

Which way should we go today? Bethany bent down to scratch Cherokee’s ear. She stood back up and studied their surroundings. Patches of sunlight warmed the ground to her left. The trees were not as thick in that direction, so grass was able to grow like a thick carpet. She and Cherokee had eaten a picnic there several days ago. To the right was unexplored territory. The trees were thicker, so the shade was more abundant.

Bethany lifted her ponytail and fanned her neck with her hand. Let’s explore in the shade. This way.

Cherokee panted her approval, and followed, sniffing occasionally under bushes or large rocks. Bethany could smell the wildflowers that poked through pebbles and leaves. They sprinkled the ground with lavender and pale yellow.

This sure beats unpacking. I’m glad we’re almost done setting up the house. Bethany began to shift directions, until they were headed straight into the forest. They had not gone far, when Cherokee froze.

What is it, girl?asked Bethany.

Cherokee yanked on the leash. Her tiny paws dug into the clumps of weeds as she attempted to pull her reluctant owner along. She let out a stream of barking, whirled around, and jumped against Bethany’s leg.

Bethany glanced around her. Oak tree branches swayed in the wind, rustling their new leaves. Overgrown crabgrass and dandelions rippled with each gust of air. Nothing else seemed to move. Nothing except for Cherokee, who was still bouncing up and down.

You get all worked up over nothing. Let’s just finish our walk. Bethany pulled the leash, forcing the Pomeranian to follow.

The ground began to slope downward. They stumbled down the hill, tripping on exposed tree roots and shaky rocks. Bethany kept her eyes focused on her feet so she wouldn’t fall. Her white tennis shoes were getting dirtier with each step. Cherokee stopped abruptly. Bethany wobbled, struggling to regain her balance.

Cherokee! I nearly fell on top of you! Why did you… Bethany inhaled sharply as she looked in front of her small dog. The ground gave way suddenly to a ledge. Below was a small creek that was nearly dry. It would not have been a long fall, but it would have been messy. The sides of the creek bed were lined with mud, and only a small trickle of water oozed through. The smell of rotting leaves clung to the air.

Nobody mentioned any creeks being back here. Maybe we should head back. We’re getting too far from the house, and I don’t know my way around yet. Mom may start to worry. Cherokee cocked her head to the side as she listened to Bethany. She panted heavily. Bethany stroked her long peach and cream fur. You look hot. We could rest a little while in the shade first.

They headed toward a large cottonwood tree, and sat beneath its branches. Cherokee rested her small head on Bethany’s leg as Bethany leaned against the twisted trunk.

I’m glad we moved here, sighed Bethany. This place is so peaceful.

A twig snapped and Bethany could feel Cherokee’s body tense. Her pointed ears arched forward and she stopped panting. Her black button eyes spied something in the distance.

Bethany leaned forward and began to look around. A flash of blue sprang through the weeds to their left. Cherokee leaped after it.

Bethany tried to grab the leash, but it slipped through her fingers. Cherokee raced along the creek, barking wildly. Bethany pushed herself to her feet and chased after her little dog.

Cherokee, stop! she yelled, but the Pomeranian was already around the bend.

Bethany raced after her. She ran along the creek, stumbling in her haste. Tree limbs tore at her arms and legs. Beads of sweat began to trickle down her forehead and into her eyes.

It was probably just a bird, she muttered. Cherokee!

The dog yipped again in response. Wait up, girl! I’m coming!

Bethany veered towards the barking, which grew frantic and suddenly turned into yelps.

Her heart pounding, Bethany ran faster. The trees grew thicker and shut out most of the sunlight. In the distance, she saw a mass of vines tangled together. They were so thick, they created a huge wall that seemed to extend endlessly in either direction and was almost as tall as the trees. As she neared the wall, she glimpsed a patch of peachy-cream fur. Muffled yelping emerged.

Cherokee! she yelled as she raced to her pet. What's wrong?

A fluffy tail and two hind legs wiggled in response. Bethany stooped down for a closer look. Cherokee was stuck in the snarl of vines. Bethany carefully pulled on the little orange legs. Yelping turned into howling.

"It’s all right, girl. You're