Harris Huxley Falls Into Something Really Strange

By Susan Schroeder

Harris Huxley has been feeling strange. His eye has been twitching and his knee has been jerking at the most inopportune times, and he can’t shake the feeling that something big is about to happen. Unexpectedly, Harris finds himself in a place very similar, but completely different. His parents are not at all like his parents, even though they look the same, but most disturbing is that his friends have altogether changed. The kids he detest the most are now his best friends, and his closest friends want nothing to do with him. How did this happen? How could things have gone so wrong? Getting back to his universe is not looking promising, yet he has to find a way to cope in this strange new place. Find out how Harris tackles this situation, and how the Harris that has replaced him in his world encounters the new challenges in Harris Huxley Falls Into Something Really Strange.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Schroeder
• Release date: Dec 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370230075

Susan Schroeder

Aspiring Author and Science Enthusiast.

Book preview

Harris Huxley Falls

Into Something Really Strange

Book Two

In the Harris Huxley Series

Harris Huxley Falls into Something Really Strange

By Susan Schroeder

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously.

©2016 by Susan Schroeder. All rights reserved.

Ebook printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address Magnanomite Publishing, 2542 Willow Knoll,

St. Louis, MO, 63129.

Cover design by Howard Schroeder and Mary Schroeder

Editing by Karen Dowell

Illustrations by Madeline Schroeder

ISBN #9781370230075

Magnanamite Publishing Introduces

The Harris Huxley Series

Book One: Harris Huxley Knows What’s Behind the Door

Book Two: Harris Huxley Falls Into Something Really Strange

Book Three: Harris Huxley Finds a Fissure to the Past

Coming Soon

Book Four: Harris Huxley Plays a Dangerous Game

Book Five: Harris Huxley Takes a Dare

Preface

Buttercup swung down from the Clubhouse leaving me alone, up-high with my thoughts. School was starting up again next week, and the feeling of dread crept over me like walking into a spider web, I just couldn’t shake it off. I was sitting at the edge of the Clubhouse with my feet dangling over the edge, watching the branches sway in the wind, the leaves shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight. I was both relaxed and anxious. The guys and I had been talking about what an eventful summer this had turned out to be. We had defeated the elves, and felt triumphant in our accomplishments, but we let the rest of our summer slip away, nothing really happened after that.

The elves had been exciting and terrifying all at the same time. Isn’t it weird that facing extreme challenges makes a person feel so alive? When the elf adventure was over, we were relieved, yet nothing after that seemed as rewarding. Feeling so confused rethinking those days, I ran my fingers through my overlong hair. I was in desperate need of a haircut, but somehow the long hair made me feel more empowered, in charge of my life. It was the Hair Lock that had ended all of it for the elves. We had taken away their power to be individuals, and that still held a strong anchor in my brain. I had learned a lot about them, and myself, this summer. I wasn’t going to let that lesson go.

I laid on my back looking up into the tree, its branches swayed carelessly overhead, the leaves danced in the sunlight. I closed my eyes so I could listen to the sound of the leaves clapping together, the sound of bees visiting the last blooms of the season, and the whisper of the warm air rushing over my face. Soon it would be fall, and the trees would erupt into glorious colors before they lost all the foliage to become naked. I wanted to savor the last morsels of the summer, like squishing the last crumbs on the brownie pan together to get that last sweet bite before the pan was truly empty. I took a deep breath, somehow I could smell that over-sweet smell of chocolate. I had to be hallucinating.

Taking another deep breath to get it all in, I let my eyes relax, folding my hands over my chest, allowing the muscles in my shoulders to loosen up. I was floating in my mind, the sound of leaves overhead, the smell of sweet chocolate, and the feel of the hard boards of the Clubhouse floor pushing up against my back. I didn’t want to be anywhere else, I was in a place of complete serenity. My senses were attuned to my surroundings, and now I could hear the sound of the distant train whistle.

As I was floating in my mind, I could feel myself suspended by the updraft of air pushing me high into the sky. My hair was tickling my face, as my arms and legs were dangling by my sides. I was weightless and carefree. My left eye twitched, and my body trembled with the sensation. After a moment, I relaxed again and my breathing became deeper and more intense. I was so high up, I opened my eyes and I believed I could see the clouds billowing around me, I gave a short whoop of elation.

My left eye twitched again, and only one second later my right knee gave a jerk, a hard jerk. It disrupted my serenity, and that was when gravity took over. I felt myself begin to fall, slowly at first, and then like a rock. I fell downward toward the earth. The rush of air moving past my body pushed my arms and legs into the air above me. I could feel the air molecules slide past as they gave way to my falling body. I gained speed with every second, knowing that soon I would hit the ground, but I didn’t care, the falling was somehow fun. Down I went, faster and faster, then I stopped. My body jerked awake on the floor of my High-up Clubhouse. I sat up quickly, sweating from the dream, or was it reality?

Dear Reader, please note the changes in the fonts as the story progresses. The font change indicates a change in the first person character Harris Huxley’s world. The font of this world is the font you see on the page above, but the font you are now reading belongs to the world Harris will visit. Please enjoy the read.

Chapter One

It’s not like I hate school, I just don’t like being in school. I want to do what I want to do, and I want to learn the things that I want to learn, not boring math or literature. Who really cares about that stuff anyway? I want to learn about space, and galaxies, and stars, especially the really big ones, and the possibility of space travel. That’s what is really exciting, not language class. I have to admit, I am daydreaming. It’s only the second week of school and already my classes are mind-numbing with the predictable cast of characters. As I look around my second period class I can tell you how the class will play out. There are always three or four chirpy girls that sit near the front of every class. They dress as if they come right out of the Penney’s catalogue, heck, they could be the Penney’s catalogue. Their outfits are picture perfect, so are their hair styles, shoes, nails and accessories. They chat it up with every teacher, they watch everyone enter the classroom and size us up as we come in. They score our apparel from 1 to 10. They decide if what we are all wearing is up to their standards. They have taken on the identity of the fashion police, and I am sure they are secretly issuing fashion tickets in the form of penalty tweets, but too bad, I don’t care what they think of me.

Then there are the ‘attention seekers,’ usually boys, and they sit right behind the chirpy girls, vying for their attention, hoping to be the subject of the next tweet. They are always tapping the girls on the shoulders and then looking the other way. Come on, that is the oldest, stupidest trick in the books, but they never fail to do it at least three times per class. Those boys dress in the latest fashion, too, just like the girls they try so hard to impress, plastering on the smiles not only for the girls, but also to impress the teacher. Too bad they look as phony as they act.

In the very front sit the students who came to learn. Too bad they have to endure the distraction of insincere courtship, or rather juvenile flirting, going on right behind them. The normal kids, like me, sit in the middle. We don’t want to be right there in front for fear of being singled out, but we don’t want to sit with the dregs, those are the students who don’t care and sit as far away from the teacher as they can, in the very back.

So, there I was, sitting in class, thinking about everything but school. I was thinking about my High-up Clubhouse. It is the best place I could think of on the planet. It is in a tree over 100 years old and so high up, you can’t see it unless you are standing underneath it looking up. It is the coolest place on Earth, and only a few people have ever been inside it. It’s special to me, not only because it’s mine, but also because my best friends share it with me. We are the High-up Boys, and we are the coolest kids in school. We don’t have to wear fashionable clothing, we don’t have to have hip hair-cuts, we don’t have to be the smartest, we are who we are, and that makes us cool.

Johnny, my best friend, is so cool. He has very pale skin with freckles, very short red hair, and he is very smart. He can do things other kids couldn’t even think of doing. He can catch squirrels bare-handed, he can outsmart almost any kid, and even some adults. We have been best friends ever since I can remember, probably because he lives right next door. I don’t have any siblings, so I consider him my brother at times. He knows me inside and out, and when I do something stupid, which happens often, he is the first one to call me out. I don’t mind, he keeps me honest. He has a nickname, one that he seems to be okay with, although I have to admit that when I gave it to him, I did it out of spite. He goes by the nickname Buttercup, its short for Princess Buttercup. It’s a long story how he got this name, but Johnny is comfortable with it, and that’s all that matters.

My other best friends are Justin and Willie. Justin is a nice, likable kid that would never hurt a soul. He is smaller than the rest of us, fair-haired with big blue eyes. If I were a girl, I might find him cute. Justin is good at acrobatics, he can do flips in the air, and stand on his hands, but oddly enough he is also cautious. He’s also the one who looks before he leaps. He’s the one who listens to your problems and doesn’t repeat anything you tell him. I really like that quality, he’s a real trusted friend. Justin has a nickname, too, and I gave it to him. I have to admit, I was not in the nicest mood when I blurted it out, but it is kind of sweet, just like him. We call him Cupcake, it seems to suit him, and he doesn’t seem to mind it either.

Willie on the other hand is almost the complete opposite. He can be such a blabbermouth at times. He lacks the filter that connects his mouth to his brain and says literally anything that comes to his mind. Once he told us that his dad wears a man-bra and his mom is jealous that his chest is bigger than hers. Needless to say, we were all so shocked by this statement, we just looked at each other. Willie didn’t get the hint. Another time he told us that his little brother chewed up his mom’s favorite shoes and blamed it on the dog. Dad says he lacks discretion, the ability to think before he talks. I’m happy to say that I have learned from Willie how dumb you sound when you let your mouth do your thinking. I’m only thirteen, so I still have more to learn, but I know when to keep my big mouth shut. I gave Willie the nickname Snowflake, I have to admit it seems to suit him well.

Willie is the biggest of all my friends. He’s not overweight, but Mom calls him thick. I think she’s referring to his body, but she could be talking about his brain. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he is by far the strongest. Willie says he doesn’t work out, but I know he has barbells in his basement, and I know he hangs out down there a lot, so if you do the math, you can bet he’s been lifting weights. He has a head full of ice (hence the name Snowflake), covered with dark curls and coffee-brown, almond-shaped eyes. He’s a pretty good-looking kid, but the girls always seem to gravitate toward me. I’m Harris Huxley, and I have to admit, I’m a popular guy.

I have dark hair, gray eyes, and my dad’s good looks, so I’m told. I can do almost anything I put my mind to; I’ve been surfing, and I rode a wave on my first try. I’m good in most sports, at least I’m usually the first or second one to get picked when the teams are chosen. I’ve caught two birds, one rabbit and two elves with my bare hands, and I’m a pretty good fisherman. I’m an outside kid, I don’t spend time in front of a computer or TV, and there is a lot to do around my house. My friends and I stay busy. We hang out in my back yard that is where the High-up Clubhouse is located. Last summer I gave them all their nicknames, but to my regret, they gave me the worst nickname of all. I have to say, I may have earned it. I broke my pen and had to wash the ink off my hands, so I used my mom’s nice smelling soap. When I got inside the Clubhouse, Willie said I smelled like a girl. I protested his comment and he said I whined like a baby, and it just so happened that I was holding the dashboard Hawaiian Girl that we keep in our Clubhouse, and so my nickname became the Baby Hawaiian Girl. It is the worst nickname a guy could ever have, but I let them call me that and I act like it doesn’t bother me, but it does, a lot. I just hope that no one at school finds out because that could wreck my cool reputation.

The bell finally rang, so I grabbed the stuff off my desk and shoved it into my bookbag. Only one more period before lunch. I shuffled down the hall to my next class, fist bumping the guys in the hall on my way. There is so little time between the classes, but in that short time I can feel like I have a small amount of freedom, until the next class of imprisonment begins. I entered Health class and stayed just inside the door. Something is different. Someone is sitting in my in my seat. Not just someone, but Wesley Smith is ‘that someone’ who is sitting in my seat. Wesley Smith is my biggest nemesis. He’s like the blond-haired, blue-eyed version of me, and we don’t get along. He’s always trying to upstage me and make me look stupid. I try to shake it off, make it look like I don’t care, but I have to say, it really bothers me, and right now, he is sitting in my usual seat. What gives? He’s not in this class.

I walked over to where Wesley was sitting and dropped my bookbag. This is my seat, get out, I said under my breath.

He didn’t get up. He looked up at me and smiled, I’m sitting here now.

You’re in the wrong class, this is third period, I said more loudly, letting my voice take on some authority.

I just got my schedule changed, all of my classes are different. I’m in here now, he smiled at me as he said those words.

How dare he smile at me? My blood began to boil. Move!

Make me, he challenged as his tone clearly changed.

He should have never challenged me. I moved quickly. I reached down and grabbed the sides of the desk and pulled it upward. He wasn’t prepared and his body fell easily to the floor, hitting with a loud thud. Everyone in the class stopped what they were doing to look over at us. I had the desk in my hands holding it up in the air and Wesley was sprawled out on the floor. It only took the teacher about two nanoseconds to figure out what was happening. She was out of her chair and in the aisle looking at us.

What’s going on? she asked patiently.

We eyed each other, neither of us eager to speak up.

Harris, please put the desk back on the ground. Wesley, please get off the floor.

I slowly replaced the desk, moving Wesley’s bookbag out of the way. Wesley got to his feet, swept his hands over the back of his designer shorts, and grabbed his bookbag. We glared at each other, neither one of us saying a word. I put my bookbag down and slid into my seat. Wesley took a seat across from me near the windows. We could see each other out of the corners of our eyes. As the class came in and took their seats, a girl came in, frowned when she saw Wesley in her seat, and took an empty seat near the very back. I wasn’t the only one who seemed upset.

When the school year first started, I went to all of my classes and I was relieved to find out that Wesley wasn’t in any of them. I only had a few classes with my best friends, but I was more relieved to find that Wesley and I were finally separated. He and I were never going to be friends, too much bad stuff had happened between us. This was like biting into a beautiful piece of fruit only to find out it was rotten on the inside. Yuck, I could actually taste the bitterness in my mouth, and to top it all off, Wesley’s awful friend was in this class, too.

Brandon Smiles, I know, what a name. By himself Brandon isn’t so bad. He’s a tall, awkward kid with stringy dark hair and pimples. You would think that a guy like Wesley would hang with the good-looking kids, but Brandon is smart, really smart. We all suspect that Brandon lets Wesley copy his work, making him look smart as well. Why else would they be friends? By himself, Brandon’s okay, add Wesley, and he becomes cocky and arrogant.

Brandon is in most of my classes, and it didn’t bother me, but now it looks like Wesley could change the dynamics of my school day. My heart sank thinking about it. I could hear him talking to the kids in the class, he was saying something about his summer vacation. Who cares what he did over the summer, certainly not me, but there he was, chatting it up with the students around him. Just before the bell rang to start class I heard the words that made me want to puke. I had to squeeze my lips together to make sure I wouldn’t lose my breakfast.

One of the chirpy girls from the front of the room swung her hair over her shoulder saying, Oh Wesley, I’m so glad you’re in here now.

If my eyes were daggers, she would be dead. Not just once, but over 100 times! I squeezed my eyes shut and put myself in my Clubhouse. I imagined laying on my back and looking up into the leaves, watching them sway back-and-forth over my head. As the teacher started class I stayed in my Clubhouse, my eyes closed.

I felt something brush up against my arm, my eyes snapped open. It was Mrs. Brewer, she was standing next to me, staring into my face. Harris, are you okay? You look a little pale.

I tried to smile, but it wasn’t going to happen. The best I could do was nod, I’ll be okay. Thank you for asking.

She bent down and whispered into my face, Next time you want someone to move out of your seat, ask them politely, okay?

I could have swallowed my tongue at that moment I was so angry. I couldn’t even speak, so I nodded my head and closed my eyes again. Up high was where I needed to be.

As class went on I stayed peaceful, as long as I could keep my eyes shut and concentrate on my happy place. Mrs. Brewer’s voice was far off in the distance. I could hear it, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I wasn’t asleep, I was just concentrating on not exploding into a million pieces. Maybe I could get my schedule changed.

Within ten minutes an assignment was given and I returned back to the class to get the school work done. We worked in silence, and when I turned in my work I asked permission to see the guidance counselor. Mrs. Brewer made out a pass and smiled when she handed it to me. I smiled back and left as quickly as I could. I wanted to be out of that class and away from Wesley.

I waited for the counselor outside her office. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who wanted a schedule change. When I was called to enter her office, she offered me a seat in front of her desk.

Harris Huxley, I haven’t seen you in my office for a while. The last time I saw you was sixth grade. You were having issues with someone.

I nodded at her comment. Oddly enough, I was back for exactly the same reason. Wesley Smith, I mumbled.

Yeah, I remember. We had to separate you two. So what is it I can help you with today?

I swallowed hard, trying to put a smile on my face, It’s pretty much the same thing. I found out today, third period, that you put him back into my classes. It’s not going to work.

She looked at me perplexed, What do you mean, it’s not going to work?

I was getting mad just thinking about it. I had to look away from her penetrating stare. Honestly, he is the one person who makes me crazy. I get angry just looking at him. I looked at her now, If you don’t get me out of there, I may kill him.

Her expression changed to outrage, Now Mr. Huxley, you cannot say things like that! I am the counselor and I have to report that kind of threat, do you know that? You could be taken out of school saying things like that.

I wasn’t in the mood to hear any more, That is exactly why I said it. If you don’t take me out of that class, and any other class we may have together, then I will stop coming to school.

She glared at me. Remind me again why you and he are enemies.

He presses my buttons, was all I could say.

Sixth grade, you and he got into it. What was that about? she asked.

I had to look away again. The memory was too horrible. I had served a week of detention because of him and it was all his fault. The counselor had a folder in her hand and was flipping through the pages. Ah, I remember. You set a fire in the classroom.

He set the fire, I helped put it out, and he blamed it on me! I shouted.

She sat there, stunned at my outburst. In a calm voice she said, Tell me what you remember.

I heaved in a deep breath and looked out the window. The memory came flooding back. "Johnny and I were walking down the Science hallway, it was after school and we were picking up our science projects. We were talking and I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye. I turned and saw another flash, so I stopped walking and turned