Earth to Skye

By Diane Case Sherry

Liv and Skye have been best friends since pre-school. At sixteen, they are trying to make the leap from “Hello Kitty” to lace thong underwear. Skye is incredibly talented and beautiful and into everything she can find in her Mom’s medicine cabinet. Her parents don’t seem to care what she does. Her mother is an ex-model who parties all the time and her dad still travels with his punk-rock band, leaving Skye to look after her two little sisters – when she’s not hanging around with her homeless junkie boyfriend. Liv’s parents are feeling their way through a recent divorce, but everyone seems to be OK with it. Then one day, all Liv has left is Skye’s journal – her thoughts, frustrations, hopes and fears, her colorful drawings – and a lot of anger. She decides to join her mom – an award-winning documentary filmmaker – on a trek across The Himalaya as she films the charity work of a Tibetan monk. It is a long and harrowing journey for Liv who takes Skye’s journal with her to read when no one else is around. Liv has so many questions. Will Skye’s journal give her the answers she needs to be able to let go?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elm Grove Publishing
• Release date: Jun 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781943492305

Book preview

What Amazon readers say about Diane Sherry Case’s first book

Elephant Milk

I could go through and mention the same amazing things that others had to say about it; but I’m sure you’ll find your own adjective to describe it and your own highlights. Quite simply, I picked it up and couldn’t put it down. So many lessons to be learned and so many things left to think about. Clearly I can’t find the words to describe this book. Amazing. Just awesome.

Readers will find complex relationships masked by a fairly simple plot line, and, dare I say, symbolism, within these pages. The quick pace and honest storytelling style keeps you on your toes and anxious about the next turn down Sean’s path. There is a piece of everyone’s teenage idealism in this character, and it’s exciting to discover what can happen when you follow your heart, as Sean vows to do, and live without regret.

The author includes the main character’s mindful observations that resonate with the era, yet trigger timeless synaptic responses that live deep within the consciousness of the reader’s past. Based on the author’s life experiences, the style is fast-paced and colorful. Leaves you wanting more. This is a great book. Loved the late 60’s early 70’s vibe. Highly recommend.

What first caught my eye was the cover, I love it.

Bottom line: Fantastic and fresh. Definitely worth a read.

Also by Diane Sherry Case

Elephant Milk

Earth to Skye

DIANE SHERRY CASE

Copyright © 2016 by Diane Sherry Case

This book is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, businesses, dialogue, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Publisher’s Note:

The author has used the original name Himalaya rather then Himalayas

to describe the Himalayan mountain range.

Himalaya is derived from the Sanskrit words Hi-ma (snow)

and a-la-ya (abode).

It is already a plural.

ISBN 978-1-943492-22-0 (hard back)

ISBN 978-1-943492-23-7 (soft cover)

Cover art © by Lou Beach.

www.loubeach.com

EGP - logo

Elm Grove Publishing

San Antonio, Texas

www.elmgrovepublishing.com

Earth to Skye

PROLOGUE   SANTA MONICA 2016

PART I   SANTA MONICA 2015

PART II   THE HIMALAYA

PART III   LOS ANGELES 2015

PROLOGUE

SANTA MONICA 2016

I will never forget my best friend, Skye, on the beach, wearing sparkles in her long blue hair, pretending she was dancing from one cloud to the next. Her youngest sister, Daphne, ran in circles, blond curls bouncing in the sun. Sabrina was five, with a voice as full and beautiful as Skye’s. We dressed them both in wings and danced to 60s music – Donovan and Joni Mitchell. Later that day, Skye and I wrote a poem in her journal:

Sabrina sings louder than the waves, dancing in the water

Pink-flowered T-shirt, sun-kissed cheeks

She throws her little arms out

with all the joy of morning dew

and plants kisses on my lips,

sweet angel’s breath,

see-through skin and ocean eyes.

What’s this, she asks, what’s that?

Not a moment in the universe will ever last,

So let’s live Now,

when every day is a question mark.

Skye always lived in the now, the best that she knew how. And she left me with a lot of questions. Big questions, like where do we all come from and what on earth are we doing here and why?

My English teacher said that we have to discover our own individual story, good and bad and ask the question, Who am I?

He said that when you stop saying I don’t know, your life would change.

I finally found my answer on a mountaintop in the Himalaya. And my life will never, ever be the same.

PART I

SANTA MONICA 2015

1

Skye, I have to ask you to take off that dog collar.

We were ready to get out of the car at the Santa Monica promenade and Mom (aka Kath) was having a fit over the studded choker. It was probably really about the black corset and the fact that Skye’s boobs were popping out. And that we were both getting prettier and looking more like young women.

It’s just a necklace.

Skye’s flirty charm didn’t work on Mom. You have to remove that choker or I’m not dropping you guys off.

I was surprised because my mother always let me wear whatever I wanted, but then again, I didn’t have big boobs.

Why do you care what we wear? I asked.

Don’t argue with me, Livi. I simply don’t like what it says.

It doesn’t talk, Skye looked straight at Mom, testing her.

It’s just fashion, I said.

It advertises something to older men, said Mom. Like you’re ready to be on a leash.

Mo-om. It’s not that bad. She’s not a sadomasochist.

You can’t really shock my mother. But she did get flustered.

Olivia, stop defending Skye. My mother only called me Olivia when she meant business. It’s absolutely not okay with me. Sixteen-year-old girls don’t need to be drawing the wrong kind of attention.

Skye took off the choker, threw it in her purse and opened the door.

I wish I were a marshmallow, said Skye. It was her favorite nonsensical smart-ass saying, which even I didn’t understand.

Excuse me? said Mom, as we were getting out of the car. What on earth does that mean?

Thanks, Mom, I intercepted. See you at five?

2

A huge ivy dinosaur sculpture welcomed all the tourists and Angelenos who visited the Third Street Promenade, an outdoor shopping mall with a lot of cafes and restaurants with patios, European style. Santa Monica weather is almost always nice enough to be outside and the Promenade was a big hangout for teenagers.

Dirty backpacks were piled on a bench in the middle of the walkway, in front of the Apple Store. Skye had made friends with the kids who always hung out there. A few, like Max and Samantha, were runaways and homeless, but they acted like they were just camping out. The others were local stoners who either didn’t want to get jobs or didn’t know how.

I thought we were going to the bookstore, I said to Skye, as she headed straight for the outdoor party.

These kids need us, said Skye. They’re homeless, like orphans. What’s the matter with you?

When she put it that way, I felt bad. And it was kind of cool, hanging out with well-traveled souls like Max and Samantha. Max wore a dirty shirt with a rainbow peace sign and had a cigarette stuck in the strings of his guitar. His low voice droned on like Kurt Cobain on heroin. He smelled more like sweat than alcohol, but there was a cup of unidentified liquid that he offered Skye and didn’t offer me.

Hey, girl, said Samantha. I like the new do.

I was surprised Samantha had noticed that my light brown hair was now reddened by henna. I wasn’t as brave as Skye with her blue hair.

I thought you were out of here, Skye said to Samantha.

My mom doesn’t have a car and can’t afford to send a plane ticket, said Samantha. She grabbed Max’s cigarette and blew smoke upwards so it mingled with the ocean fog. And even if she wanted to send bus money, there’s no place to send it.

If I lived in Minnesota and disappeared, my mom would walk in bare feet to find me. Or in moccasins. Wet Converse. Whatever it took, she’d find me.

I can give you our address, I told her. Maybe you can stay at our house.

Never mind. I like sleeping on the beach.

I want to play a song, said Skye.

Max handed her his guitar. Skye started strumming a tune in a minor key. Her music ranged from songs that were simple and sad, to full-of-rage punk rock.

I had never heard this one. It seemed like she was only half inside her body as she sang.

Orange peels, eggshells, used coffee grounds

Ripped apart and thrown around

Hateful words they pack a punch

If this is breakfast what’s for lunch?

Max gave her a kiss in the middle of the song and Skye put down the guitar, laughing her sweet laughter, left over from when she was innocent. Lately, she was an odd combination of soft and tough, like if you touched her gently she would bruise, but if you crossed her she would rip you to shreds.

Skye’s scene at home was much more of a mess than mine, even though my parents had just divorced and Skye’s folks were still together. Her mother slept all day and Skye often had to take care of her two little sisters.

Skye’s parents were teenagers when they had Skye and it didn’t seem like they ever grew up. Riva, Skye’s mother, partied all the time, and her dad, Zeno, still traveled in a punk-rock band. My dad grew out of punk rock before I was even born.

I loved it when Skye played music. But I bet that playing music wasn’t half what was going on when she stayed out late partying with Max. Or whoever else she found to hang out with. I didn’t know what was with this disappearing act, but it wasn’t good. Seemed like she’d turned the corner recently and I sure wasn’t going to follow. I wanted so badly to take care of her, to rescue her, but I didn’t want to drown trying.

Come on, Skye, let’s go to the bookstore, or get something to eat, I said.

Don’t leave, Skye picked up the guitar again and sang, or I should say, screamed, a couple of lines of a fast, pissed off song. She was a great guitar player, talented as her father. I wished I could write lyrics as good as my dad’s.

They want to own your freakin’ body

They want to get inside your mind

Skye suddenly stopped and looked toward me. So what’s the next line? I wrote it and forgot it.

Let’s go freaking shopping, I said. I got annoyed when Skye said we were going to do something and then ended up just slacking off. I didn’t want to leave her, but the scene she was in wasn’t where I belonged.

Stay, she whined. We’ll finish writing the song together.

Yeah, stick around, said Max. He handed Skye some kind of pill and she swallowed it dry.

I had hoped I could be a stronger influence on her than her drug-addict boyfriend.

Nah, I’m leaving, I said. See you later.

Life’s a car Livi. Drive it!

3

What did you buy? Mom asked, when she picked us up.

Skye had finally met me at Victoria’s Secret. They were having a sale, two for the price of one. Skye desperately wanted new lingerie, I guessed for Max.

I only showed Mom the little girl panties, pink, with hearts on them. I had also bought a black lace thong. Not that I had a boyfriend yet, or was ready to be half naked in front of a guy. No one was ever going to see me wearing it, except maybe Skye.

The moment we got into my room Skye tore off her Black Flag T-shirt and tossed it on my mile-high stack of thrift-store clothes. She stood naked, except for her necklaces, ripping the tags off of her new black camisole with the matching lace thong.

Skye’s body was different than mine. Her breasts were larger and her nipples darker, peeking out through her long blue hair. Her thick black eye lashes didn’t even need the mascara she used and her eyebrows arched like a model’s.

You’re so pretty, Skye would say to me. But she was much prettier and way more exotic. She always wore tons of necklaces, colored beads and chains with hearts and daggers and crosses. And elephants. Ever since she was a little girl, she collected elephants, some of which I’d given her through the years. Stuffed elephants, crystal, plastic and metal elephants and the ivory one she wore on a chain.

Do you realize what they do to get that ivory? I asked.

It’s old. It happened a long time ago, she said. What am I going to do about it now?

Skye put on the corset-like camisole and I took photos of her, wearing tons of make up, lying on my bed with its ancient Hello Kitty comforter, looking longingly into the camera, her bright red lips glistening and gently parted.

Look at this one, I said. You look like a rock star.

Wait until Max sees this! I bet I could even make some money if I posted it on the Internet and gave out my number.

I laughed nervously, hoping she wasn’t serious. What a weird thing to think about. It gave me the creeps. The fact that she was sleeping with Max was bad enough. I didn’t even ask her where they did it. He was homeless after all. I wondered if they were having sex while she was babysitting with her sisters. We used to talk about everything, but there were details of her life that I didn’t even want to know about anymore.

Mom walked in without knocking, startling both of us.

What on earth are you doing? she said, taking in the situation. You’ve got to be kidding.

4

She’s getting to be a bad influence on you, Mom said, as we drove home after dropping Skye off. I think you guys should take a break from each other.

I knew where Mom was coming from. But we were like sisters, Skye and I, friends since pre-school. She even got her first period at my house. Mom was all excited, like it was a special occasion to celebrate. I don’t know what is so special about blood pouring out of your vagina.

There is no way in the world that I am cutting Skye out of my life, so just get used to it, Mom.

The palm trees on Ocean Avenue looked like giant toothpicks with bouffant hair. I wondered why they didn’t break, being as top heavy as they were.

She has no business dressing like that, Mom said. Mom was wearing the same grey sweats that she’d worn the last two days.

We were just playing around, I said. "It’s not