Pocket Troubles

By Melva Gifford

Mike doesn’t like attention. Let his best friend have all of it. But for his tenth birthday, he has more than enough attention with an unpredictable birthday shirt. Strange things are happening that involve him, his entire class and perhaps the world. Every attempt to make things better only makes it worse, turning Mike's school field trip into chaos.

Reviews:

Clever, imaginative, and fast paced to keep even the most voracious reader satisfied. Mike and his friends are in for the adventure of their young lives in this entertaining tale of wishes, danger, and magic! Have fun and hang on tight, the ride is just beginning!!!
-Rhonda Johnson

I loved the book. I relly Love the crazey Grama.
-Irene's Nephew Jesse

This book Pocket Troubles is very imaginative. It is one of Melva's best works.
-Mehgan O'Neil

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melva Gifford
• Release date: Dec 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452432977

Melva Gifford

Melva Gifford author ofchildren's booksfantasy booksSF/F/children's short stories.Nonfiction books

Book preview

What others are saying about Pocket Troubles

Clever, imaginative, and fast paced to keep even the most voracious reader satisfied. Mike and his friends are in for the adventure of their young lives in this entertaining tale of wishes, danger, and magic! Have fun and hang on tight, the ride is just beginning!!!

Rhonda Johnson

**

This book Pocket Troubles is very imaginative. It is one of Melva’s best works.

Mehgan O-Neil

**

I loved the book. I relly love the crazey Grama

Irene’s Nahew Jesse

Pocket Troubles

Melva Gifford

Published by Melva Gifford at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Melva Gifford

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents:

Title Page

Dedication:

Acknowledgements:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Other books by Author:

Operation: Middle School Madness

Troll Bait

Druids of the class 2020

Beware of Grandma’s Purse

I Know You Think This Is a Toaster: Promoting Family Values Through Object Lessons

Books by writers that I invite you to check out.

Yikes!

Commemorating the Dead in Late Medieval Strasbourg

Pursued

Please check out these other authors as well:

Dedication:

Ramona Gubler

And

Paul Roberts

Acknowledgements:

Ellen Kitchen for her wonderful cover.

Nellie Mortensen Kitchen has been drawing since she could drag crayons across the wall. Though drawing in class would cause her trouble during the next several years, the opposite proved true after enrolling in Utah Valley University, where she will soon complete her Bachelor's degree with emphasis in fine art. When not busy with school or work, Nellie watching birds with her husband and creating comics under her pen name, Ellen Natalie. Her current project, Furry Experience, can be found here: http://www.furryexperience.com/

Also thanks to the following writing groups throughout the years for their help

Alexandria

Xenobia

Onward

Achoo

Lavarians

SOS

BYU’s what’s its name

Blue Harvest

Critique Circle

Epsilon

Spiral

Also I appreciate a bunch of additional friends and family members as well.

Chapter One

_______________________

I didn’t know today would be my worst and best birthday ever.

All I thought about since I woke up was my fourth grade school class going on a field trip to Boston’s Charlestown navy Yard. It’s going to be the one of the big events of the school year. And a great way to celebrate my birthday,

After school, at home, my family would have ice cream and slush at my birthday party. But, it’s the field trip that got me the most excited. Our class had been waiting for this trip for weeks.

My best friend Lance and I had plans. While our class visited the naval museum in Charlestown, to take the war ship USS Constitution for a quick spin. Our classmates could look at all the guns, the sailor bunks and everything below deck. Lance and I had a more important goal: The Bridge or as Mr. Climan called it, the forecastle. As long as my friend is the captain, I would happily be his first mate. First officer Mike Horan has a good ring to it.

I looked about my bedroom. Multiple colors of pants, shirts and ah… sunflower seeds were scattered on the floor and bed. My dad loves sunflower seeds. So I too, had acquired a taste for them. They made great torpedoes.

Lance’s assignment: wear a white shirt and pants we would blend with the naval uniforms. That way, we could mix in with the other sailors when we headed for the bridge.

My uniform isn’t working out. My T-shirt was white -- except for the big, black transformer imprint on the front. I wish I could use my Sunday shirt, without the tie, but mom would march me back to my room and make me change. You can’t give parents any hint you’re going on a secret mission.

The color of my pants isn’t much better. The closest I got to white was tan. The only thing pure white is my Keds, with a few mud spots to add character. They would have to do.

I glanced across the room to the door of my closet. Taped on the front were pictures of different types of naval ships printed off the Internet. I had opened the window and a gentle breeze ruffled the pages. Evasive action, I thought. I ran over to my bed and dragged my metallic book shelf to the center of my room. The top provided the only clear surface. Thrusting my hand into my pant pocket, I grabbed the small handful of sunflower seeds. While they were still inside their shells, they made great ammunition.

I piled them into a small mound on the top shelf like a pile of cannon balls, imaging myself manning the guns of an enemy ship.

I lined up three sunflower seeds two inches apart. With a flip of my finger the first one flew across the room. Torpedoes away! I bellowed.

It slammed into the wall, directly above the picture of an air craft carrier. I had been practicing all week and was improving on my marksmanship. Too bad I’m not as good as Mr. Climan, my teacher. I had hoped to hit near the blazing guns in the top picture. But I had missed it by a good foot.

I flipped the second, hitting just below the picture. Mayday, mayday! I grinned with victory.

Michael! Mom’s voice called from down stairs.

She wants me to go downstairs for breakfast!--Time for—the third seed hit the wall and came back at me so fast I had to duck. Abandon ship!

I headed for the door. I’d clean up when I got home before my mom saw the mess and blew a gasket. No time now. First breakfast and then off to school with Lance.

Today is going to be a good day. My best friend and I were going to have an adventure.

Chapter Two

_______________________

Mom is talking on the phone with Grandpa, her back facing the hall, as I came down the stairs.

If she stayed at Aunt Monta’s last night, could she taken her to the airport? She asked. Though it’s strange she didn’t call you this morning. Leaning her hip against the dish washer, Mom stiffened, You called Monta? She didn’t stay there last night? She paused. Maybe she caught a different flight.

I shook my head. It must be Grandpa calling to complain about Grandma, again, walking into the kitchen.

The scene inside the kitchen showed tons of cream-colored folders scattered on the table and counters. Jillions of pictures of homes hung on the fridge and cupboards. Mom was a real estate agent selling houses around Boston. One birthday balloon was tied to the back of my customary chair at the table.

I grinned.

The tea kettle on the stove for Mom’s Post-um whistled leaving a mist on the microwave from the steam. The cereal and milk sat waiting for me on the only free space at the table. I poured myself a bowl.

Mom turned toward me while listening to Grandpa and smiled at me. Her eyes brightened as her gaze settled on me. I could hear Grandpa's raised voice from where I sat.

Grandma Humes is always in some kind of trouble. It's a full time job for Grandpa to keep tabs on her. She’s sometimes been known to stay overnight somewhere and Grandpa doesn’t know until later who she was with. She says she still has wander lust, whatever that is. She must have done that last night. Grandma has all kinds of friends.

See, Grandma was kind of crazy. Not a bad crazy, mind you. She just does things that ‘normal’ people usually don’t do. She’s cool, but Mom, well she's Mom. She often says it will take a lifetime to get used to Grandma Humes.

I think Mom might still be a little miffed at Grandma from the last time she visited us. She was trying to teach me fencing in the front room and our practicing threatened Mom’s knick knacks.

Grandma’s a little scary too. It’s no surprise I don’t say much around her even though she tries to get me to talk. Once, during one of her visits, she got a ticket for driving Grandpa’s motorized wheelchair down the street. Another time she wanted to see how far she could throw a water balloon with a towel. She flung it over our roof from the backyard; it sailed across the street and shattered the window of our neighbor’s house.

Another time Grandma said that the proper way to celebrate the 4th of July was by building a bonfire. I think Dad liked the idea. Since he works as a security guard at different construction sites, he has access to a lot of scrap pieces of wood. Hadn’t Mom bought bunches and bunches of marshmallows from the store when they were on sale?

Moms seem to have a hard time knowing how to have fun.

Mom grabbed a jug of orange juice from the counter and poured me a tall glass, still listening to Gramps on the