A Not So Normal Girl

By Alde Baron

Desi Baron has been kicked out of school, visits forbidden places, and when she picks up lost items, she calls it Treasure Hunting. One day, her outbursts become too much to handle, and the foremost expert on extreme childhood misbehavior, Dr. Loue Sal, is asked to correct Desi into a normal person.

Desi has no intention of being normal. She'd rather explore the wilds, hunt treasure, and live far from the city, where people don't have rules. When she digs up a mysterious book in a place she ought not to be, Dr. Sal takes extreme measures to punish her blatant disregard for society's norms. With her sister by her side, will Desi escape to paradise, and will it last?

A Not So Normal Girl is a two-part story that begins with a look into Desi's childhood, setting the stage for a journey that takes her to a new land of adventure, wonder, and danger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alde Baron
• Release date: Oct 16, 2017

Alde Baron

Alde Baron is the author and illustrator of The Quest Logs, short stories for ages 10+. Born in San Diego, Alde Baron now lives in Phoenix, AZ, where he works as a software engineer, and volunteers as a DJ for a local sports league.

Book preview

The Quest Logs:

A Not So Normal Girl

by Alde Baron

Copyright 2017, All Rights Reserved

For more novels and short stories:

www.thequestlogs.com

Contents

- One -

The Baron Sisters

- Two -

Treasure Hunting

- Three -

The Doctor

- Four -

A Cold Night

- Five -

Burning Paradise

- Six -

Thrashed Plank Tavern

- Seven -

Random Encounters

- Eight -

A Request and a Thief

- Nine -

A Changing Castle

- Ten -

Intruders

- Eleven -

Escape

- Chapter One -

The Baron Sisters

Desi Baron was happy to be sent home from school, even if it was for punching a kid in the face. She opened the front door of the little building she called home, strolled past her mother, and dropped her books onto her bed.

Raine, who stood at the stove stirring the stew for tonight’s dinner, glanced over her shoulder. Just as Desi reached the front door, her mother said, What did you do this time?

Why bother? said Desi.

Just as Desi opened the front door, her mother stopped her. Where do you think you’re going? asked Raine.

Desi knew she shouldn’t have come home early. It wasn’t like the twelve year old hadn’t wandered around the city after school before; she had been doing so for years. Reluctantly, she let the door close before her, then leaned her back against it. This punk deserved it, she said, with a smirk she tried to hide from her mother.

Raine shook her head and rolled her eyes. You’re not supposed to fight in school.

Tell that to the jackass that nearly ripped my hair out, muttered Desi.

Your teacher won’t give you many more chances.

Big deal. I wouldn’t care if I got kicked out of school. They’re still calling me ash baby.

Raine put her wooden spoon down on top of the stove and turned to give her daughter her full attention.

"At first he said, ‘Hey, I like your hair.’ I didn’t say anything, because I knew he was just messing with me. Then he said, ‘Are you related to those circus freaks? I thought only they had hair that color.’

"Then he said, ‘I knew you were a freak, but are you one of those freaks?’

"I told him to bugger off. Then, just as I went outside for lunch, the jerk grabs my hair, pulls my head back and says, ‘I bet this is just a wig!’

"He started yanking my hair, it felt like he was going to rip it out from the roots. ‘Show everyone what your real hair looks like! Are you bald? Did all your hair fall out from living under those factories?’

I shoved him right off the porch, into the dirt, said Desi, proudly. I jumped over the rail and tackled him. Socked him right in the eye!

Raine, who over the years had felt powerless to stop her daughter’s outrages, simply stared back at her daughter. After a few seconds of silence to express she was disappointed, Raine said, You’ll be fine when your sister gets home. But as punishment, you can’t go wandering around the city today.

Merin, Desi’s older sister of two years, left for school the next morning, while Desi refused to return to the place she hated the most.

This is so stupid. Why do I have to go to school? The other kids just treat me like crap, argued Desi.

It’s just the way things are, Desi, said Raine.

Desi slid her snow boots on. She tugged hard at the shoestrings. The teachers don’t care, she muttered. Her mother ignored her complaint. The young lady shoved each book into her pack, one at a time, to demonstrate her frustration.

Desi stepped toward the front door. Brush your hair, her mother said.

With contempt, Desi snagged her brush from the tiny table in the center of the one-room house. She quickly brushed the comb through her tangled mess. There? Brushed, she said, and tossed the brush on the table.

Desi opened the front door and breathed in the industrial smog. The taunts of ash baby ran through her mind. She wanted more than anything to not return to school, and would rather be off on an adventure around the world.

That way, said her mother, pointing northward. Your school is that way, Desi Baron. Don’t let me catch you at the market causing problems for the merchants.

The end of the alley gave way to a crossroad of four directions. School was further north, past the church. The marketplace was around the bend to the west, and the east road would lead right out of the capitol city.

Desi inched along the cobblestone paths of Shota’s main roads. When she arrived near the church she felt she could hide inside and ditch class. She had done it several times before, so they may not notice if she laid down on the benches and drifted off.

Then the pastor opened the front door and breathed in the morning air. Desi knew he’d send her straight to school, even if he had to drag the child there himself, which he had done more than once.

Desi had grown accustomed to the dilapidated state of the industrial district of Shota. Why it was the entrance to the imperial capitol, Desi did not know.

Most buildings across Shota were made of polished stone, marble, or granite. They were painted sky blue, pale pink, or tints of lime green. These colors were, according to the people who lived in them, supposed to make the city appear cheerful.

Desi felt sickened at such colors, the same sickness she felt from eating too many sweets. She felt comfortable around the other buildings; the ones the city didn’t care to upkeep. The ones made of wood. The ones slowly being replaced with more expensive buildings.

Her school was one such construct of dilapidation, pieced together with dark greys into two classrooms: one for the students fourteen and older, where Merin was sent just this year, and the other for the younger students.

The School of Life Principles, Behavior, and Beliefs, stood on a raised platform, with a door on each end, and a porch, eight steps high, that split off to the classes.

The red-haired numbskull who pulled Desi’s hair stood at the top of the steps with his friends, awaiting Desi’s arrival. With a big black circle around his left eye he said, I can’t believe they’re letting this freak back into class. Ought to lock her up with all the other nutcases.

Desi slouched as she stepped onto the porch to avoid this kid. Can’t say that in front of the teacher? she muttered.

The zit infested child stuck his foot out and tripped Desi, prompting his friends to point and laugh as she fell onto her face.

Desi turned over to assault the instigator, but noticed the older students’ teacher step out onto the porch. Even as the bullies kicked her books down the steps, and continued to call her names, the teacher minded his own business as if nothing was happening.

Speak up if you got something to say! Where’s your sister, huh? Huh, blue haired freak? No sister here to protect you?

The miscreant turned his hands into fists and gestured with a threat that he was going to punch Desi. Without standing upright, Desi crawled down the steps to retrieve her books.

That’s right, back away. You’re just a coward!

Desi ignored the bully, gathered her books, and then entered the classroom, keeping an eye on that teacher who remained absentminded.

Desi sat at her assigned desk, the one in the back of the class and closest to the door. The rest of the students could sit wherever they wanted, but the teacher directed Desi to the chair that was easiest to send her home. It had the added bonus of the students getting free range to pluck Desi’s hair, kick the back of her chair, and whisper rude remarks, all without the teacher believing any of it happened.

Mrs. Everberry, Desi’s teacher, a thin, graying, shrewd woman, started the class with math lessons, a subject Desi wasn’t interested in.

Without provocation, a girl with perfect, silky, long black hair, who sat in front of Desi, turned to her and whispered, Word is your hair is falling out. Must be all that soot from the factories. Why don’t you just get out of the city and live in the swamps with the rest of the crazy people?

Desi sneered at this girl and wanted to punch her in the face.

The girl turned with a smile at her insult. She thought of some other clever quip and whispered, You should get a wig. No man wants to love a bald woman. Personally, I’d choose gray, to match that dirt rag you call a coat.

Desi had her fist ready to pound into the back of this girl’s skull, and was stopped only when her sister whispered to her.

Desi looked over her shoulder and saw that Merin peeked through the door. What? asked Desi. Now isn’t a good time.

We’re going to get back at zittacular for ripping your hair.

Now? It’s the middle of class, said Desi.

Merin, as usual, gave no answer and put her plan into action, fully aware that Desi’s thirst for revenge boiled over this morning and had to be satisfied.

Desi followed her sister as they crept behind the rows of desks, their footsteps so light that none of the students noticed.

And A plus B equals C, said Mrs. Everberry, drawing letters above the numbers, further confusing the students. She had her back turned to the class as she continued the lesson.

The sisters crawled to the far side of the room, and their bodies were caught in the sunlight through the windows. Some of the kids turned their heads and snickered as Desi and Merin inched along and reached the teacher’s desk.

Top drawer, get the scissors, whispered Merin.

The teacher’s desk was situated so that she could keep an eye on the entire class, especially the front door.

Desi slid the drawer open. Mrs. Everberry hadn’t noticed her. She pulled the scissors out and closed the drawer. The sisters crawled to the back of the classroom, and then down the row where the bully sat.

Desi needed no further instructions, and at this point she didn’t care if she got caught, for the teacher was too far away to stop her now.

Desi snatched the bully’s hair, pulled his head back, and laughed as she snipped his hair once, twice, and then a third time.

Mrs. Everberry! cried the student behind the bully. Desi’s cutting Chris’s hair!

Chris pulled himself from Desi’s grasp and shoved her into the desks, causing her to fall to the floor. The students stood from the wreck and backed away to the walls. The bully readied his foot to stomp Desi’s stomach when Mrs. Everberry yanked him away.

Ms. Baron! cried the teacher. She snagged Desi’s wrist, swiped the scissors, and dragged Desi to the front of the classroom. I’ll teach you to cut off another student’s hair!

Mrs. Everberry gripped a ruler from the chalkboard and held Desi’s hand on her desk, the teacher’s other arm acting as a vice grip.

Slap!

The teacher smacked the ruler against the backs of Desi’s hands. Slap! Slap! And then eight more times for each inch. You’re lucky I don’t use a yard stick!

Mrs. Everberry shoved Desi’s face onto the table, picked up the scissors, and proceeded to cut off locks of her hair.

What are you doing!? screamed Desi.

Mrs. Everberry didn’t answer. With each cut – there must have been a dozen – Desi’s hair fell onto her tattered boots.

Stop that! cried Desi.

The teacher didn’t stop. Desi’s cheek was soaked in a pool of tears as the class laughed at her humiliation. Her hand and eyes were red, and a pile of her rough hair sat on the floor, which was the only place she dared look.

Stand up, said Mrs. Everberry. When Desi refused, she pulled Desi’s head back. I said stand up! The teacher shoved a broom against Desi. Sweep it up, and then sweep up the rest of the mess you made while I write a letter to your mother.

Mrs. Everberry opened her drawer and pulled out a quill, ink bottle, and a piece of parchment, slamming each onto her desk. "This is the last time for this! I am through with your antics, young lady. You and that sister of yours," she said, eyeing Desi above her glasses.

Desi cried as she slowly swept her hair into a pile. She glanced around for Merin, but her sister had left the classroom as soon as Desi was caught. Some of the kids had returned to their desks, while a few stood snickering and whispering insults about Desi. When the teacher handed Desi the letter, she knew it was time to leave. She grabbed her shoulder pack from her desk, realizing that her revenge changed nothing.

Though Desi would love to have gone off anywhere but school or home, she felt embarrassed at the state of her hair and the dirt running down her tear covered face.

When she gently opened the front door to her home she walked slowly past her mother, and tossed the parchment onto the table near the fireplace, hoping it would fly into the flames. She threw herself onto her bed.

Raine picked up the letter, and read it to herself:

Ms. Desi Baron’s complete disregard for the safety of her fellow students has gone too far! This time, she convinced herself to retrieve a pair of scissors from my desk, and mutilate a boy’s hair! I‘m aware that doctors have attempted to correct Ms. Baron’s insane outrages, but I am now forced to request the assistance of Dr. Sal, the foremost expert on Extreme Childhood Misbehavior! He shall visit on the day before the next school week begins. Ms. Baron is not to return to class until these outbursts are eliminated, she is deemed no longer a danger to others, and has proven she can be a normal person!

Raine folded the letter. She opened a cupboard near the stove, and placed the parchment on a stack of other papers. She turned to her daughter and said, Now you’ve done it. The school doesn’t want you returning—

"Good, I