Santa Catalina

By Jane Lee

A short story about 2 young boys adventure sailing small boats to Santa Catalina Island, when they land in Avalon, they find it is to late to head back to Newport Beach and have to stay overnight. BUT, is it really about them? Or is it about the very unmotherly heartless woman, who finds she had not lost her heart, she just had not used it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jane Lee
• Release date: Oct 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463002575

Jane Lee

Jane B Lee is a multi-book author of adult fiction action-adventure/ romance novels, a play-writer, poet, and an avid world traveler, having been to over 60 countries. She has several degrees from California State University at Long Beach and holds two patents for environmental equipment. As a transgender woman and an active member of the LGBTQ community, Jane passionately gives voice to her LGBTQ characters.

Book preview

SANTA CATALINA

By: Jane B Lee

When you’re twelve, the world beckons. It grows in geometric leaps, as fast as you can run or peddle your bike. Crossing the street was once forbidden, but now it's accepted. So you push at your boundaries, your limits and test your parents, yourself, and your guardian angels.

Guardian angels hate it when you turn twelve. When you’re twelve, you get up before the sun, sleep is only a cure for exhaustion, and you know no fear. When I was twelve, I was assigned two Guardian Angels, and they still almost lost me.

When I was twelve, I never wore hats. You can’t sleep in a baseball cap, and I nearly always slept in my clothes. After my bath, last night, I put on my T-shirt, underwear, and shorts. My best friend Dwayne and I had plans for today. We were going to sail out the inlet today.

Dwayne and I had Lido 14’s. We had snuck out the inlet before and sailed a mile down the coast. Two days ago, we sailed three or four miles north up the coast. (We would swear it was ten miles.)

Today was special, something was going to happen. When I went to bed, I could hardly wait to wake up, and at 5:30 a.m., my eyes flew open, and a heartbeat later, I crashed out of bed. I slipped on my already tied tennis shoes and quietly made my way downstairs. I would not feel the need for morning hygiene (like washing and brushing my teeth) until I was discovered by girls. As I passed through the kitchen, I yanked open the fridge door. I fearlessly gulped milk from the carton, as my eyes scanned the wire shelves for tasty treats. A slab of meatloaf from last night’s dinner became breakfast. A dry chicken leg with thigh attached was shoved into my back pocket. The slamming of