The Crossover Mystery

By Ronald A. Feldman

The Crossover Mystery

David Flanders wants a little terror in his life.  So he is ready for a break from the humdrum rigors of his ninth grade honors classes. Spending spring vacation at the family's cottage on Long Island Sound seems the perfect solution, especially after David meets spunky Jessie Nordvig.

But the idyllic days end suddenly when David and Jessie spot a gnarled sea captain dragging a body down to the water's edge. Here is all the terror David Flanders wants--and more, much more!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gemini Book Publishers
• Release date: Sep 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781540182821

Book preview

Ronald A Feldman

Gemini Book Publishing

Boca Raton, Florida

Gemini Book Publishing

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are not intended to reflect any real people living or deceased but some locales exist and are precious to me and the folks living there.

Copyright © 2016 by Ronald A. Feldman

Please don’t copy parts of this book without permission, which, under normal circumstances will be

granted happily with written request.

[e-mail]

Thanks.

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Book cover graphics by

Renee Luke of Cover Me Book Covers

ISBN-10:0-9978433-1-4

ISBN-13:978-0-9978433-1-6

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Remembering Jason always

Not everything is as simple as it may seem at first glance. Sometimes things are steps beyond reality and rational thinking. That’s when it’s time to suspend disbelief and enjoy the journey.

Author’s Note

If you understand the crossover event, write me at my email address. Or if you don’t get it, write me and I’ll answer you with an explanation.

Sound fair?

ron@geminibookpublishing

Most importantly, I made this stuff up all by myself. It’s fiction and not meant to be thought of as reality.

What they said about

The Crossover Mystery.

Temple Emmet Williams, former editor at the Reader's Digest, 2016

This is a beautifully-written book, with breath-taking action (you’ll appreciate that pun when you read it). The author pulls the reader from beginning to end with crisp dialog, believable characters, and wondrous suspense. I found magic in both the story and the writing. Thank you, Mr. Feldman. Perhaps you will change the title to The Crossover Mysteries, a pluralization requiring more books in what could become an interesting series.  Goodreads 5 stars

Somyjeet at Goodreads-India

Good old days! Kids stumbling upon something. Something eerie, something not explainable. A bit of sea myth and lots of investigative steps, well at least teeny steps! Good Reads 4 stars

Deena May, 2013

The Crossover Mystery was an enjoyable quick read, that I couldn't put down. It captured my imagination from the beginning. A great book for people of all ages. 5 stars.

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Frank April, 2012

I am far from a young adult. But the book was referred to me so I read it. I could not put it down. Each chapter ends with you wanting to read the next one. Very clever plot that stimulates the imagination. 5 stars.

The Crossover Mystery

The Smell of Death

The smell of death filled the small cottage room. But only the cat, which kept its distance, noticed. The corpse couldn’t. And the old man, stooped with age, didn’t perceive the smell any longer. He had grown accustomed to the smell of death. It had become a part of his life.

The corpse lay on top of an old writing table. The table never had been used for writing. It had its own special purpose. The table was for the dead man, John W. Wiley, and for those before and after him.

John Wiley’s face was the color of candle wax, a filmy, milky gray. The skin on his cheeks hung loose, sagging toward the back of his head. As if to compensate for those ghastly tokens of death, the scanty strands of John’s light gray hair had been neatly combed into place.

But death had worked an even more significant change on John Wiley’s features. His pasty white lips were now set in a thin, dour grimace. In life, those lips had parted to

reveal John’s winning smile and the pockets of vacant space where teeth once gleamed.

In fact, John Wiley’s smile was his trademark and the reason for his nickname, Smiley Wiley. John had inherited the nickname in his younger days, when he had first experienced the excitement of the sea.

John Wiley’s shipboard life had begun on the whaling ships. From the snug harbor of New Bedford to the uncharted islands of the South Seas, John had traveled the world’s waterways. After serving as a seaman on numerous ships, John had graduated to tugboat captain. His tugboat, The Smiley Wiley, had helped some of the biggest ships in and out of New York’s harbor.

But that was over fifty years ago. John W. Wiley was now dead. No more ports to be explored, no high winds to turn his ship’s keel. John was waiting to be returned to his only true love. He was waiting for the Crossover.

The old man plodded around the table where John lay. It would take several days to make ready, the old man thought. If the weather was right, the Crossover could be completed soon.

John Wiley waited patiently. He was in no rush to complete the Crossover. Three days, even four, would be fine. In life, John had often daydreamed about the truth of the crossover legend. He knew the crossover was painless—that did not bother him. But John wondered if the passage would even be open to him. What if he wasn’t worthy? What if he were rejected?

Some had said that a judgment had to be reached before the Crossover was permitted. Others merely laughed and asked, Are you a sailor? That’s all that counts. You just have to be a sailor, tried and true.

Certainly, John W. Wiley was a sailor, tried and true. No one could dispute it.

The old man, apparently oblivious to the corpse, continued with his preparations. At last, he sat down on the edge of an old sea chest to thumb through an ancient book. The pages, creased and brittle, crackled noisily as he turned them. When the old man found the passage for which he had been searching, he read it carefully, mouthing the words. Then he softly shut the book, closed his blue eyes, and began to sway gently from side to side as though in prayer.

After a long moment in the trance-like state, the old man stood and dug deep into John’s sea bag. Reverently, he removed a battered, leather-bound book—The Smiley Wiley’s log.

Slowly the old man passed the log in the air over John’s body. Seven times the old man waved the book. When he had finished, he silently bore the book to the fireplace and threw it into the flames.

The old man repeated the ceremony again and again, each time ending his prayer by taking some personal item out of John’s sea bag. Once or twice, with his head bent forward and chin to his chest, he moaned mournfully. To a landlubber, the sound would have been fearsome. But to a seaman it would have recalled the creaking and moaning of an ancient wooden sailing