Red Sprites and Blue Jets

By Andy Silvers

Cooper Sterling is a bright-eyed nine-year-old boy whose mother was recently diagnosed with lung cancer. In order to be the brave son he wants to be, he must help his hard-working father take care of his mother in any way he can. This includes doing household chores and even selling homemade milkshakes. The problem is that Cooper and his best friend Wesley Flunk keep getting entangled in a ghost hunt after Cooper believes he saw ghosts one stormy night. This poignant and comedic coming-of-age story follows a young boy's most challenging summer as he is forced to grow up quicker than he ever expected.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716547775

Andy Silvers

Andy Silvers is a Russian American author and filmmaker who combines screenwriting technique with the world of novel writing. Born in Luga, Russia, Andy has always had a love of writing. He wrote children's short stories called Terra Menara and later wrote a children's novel called Red Sprites and Blue Jets in 2020. In 2021, he got a Bachelor of Science in Cinematic Arts from the Zaki Gordon Center. There, he wrote, produced, and directed an award-winning short film called "Snapshot". He plans to adapt his novels into feature screenplays and, hopefully one day, feature films.

Book preview

me.

CHAPTER 1

The Ghosts

CRACK. BOOM. WHOOSH.

The sound of thunder pounding the sky filled my ears. There was a storm close by, and it had me rocking back and forth in my bed. To be honest, I was awake anyway. My mom had just shaved off the last of her hair. I had never seen her bald before. The only bald person I knew was our weird neighbor, Barry. We called him Judge Barry because he used to be a judge.

My mom told me she had cancer. She said her lungs were under attack and that the only way to stop it was to attack right back. That’s why she had to do chemotherapy. She had to fight the cancer with medicine.

She became very sick. I wished I could help her get better. How much can a kid actually do? My dad told me to be brave, but he never explained how. I stood in the bathroom with her while she shaved off the last of her hair. Some had fallen out anyway due to her chemo, but she decided the rest had to go. I waited patiently with a broom and dustpan to collect the fallen hair. She had beautiful blond hair. I was sad to see it go.

My dad was very concerned for her. He used to come home after work and go straight to my bedroom. I would jump in his arms and tell him about my day. I was his only son – and therefore his favorite. For the past few months, though, he’d go straight to Mom. She could be found sitting in her chair in the living room reading or watching crime shows. He’d go over to her and give her a kiss on the forehead. Some days he’d tell her he was sorry, and they’d hold hands in silence for several seconds. Then they’d talk for a long time. Sometimes he would remember to visit me, and sometimes he wouldn’t.

Every afternoon, I would hide around the corner where he couldn’t see me. Then I’d wait to see if he headed for my bedroom. When I saw him head my way, I’d run into my room and pretend like I didn’t know he was there. Lately, he’s been coming to my room less and less.

Crack. Wham. Boom.

The storm was getting louder. At this point, I noticed my blankets had fallen off the bunk bed. Now I was cold. I sat up in my bed and stared at my bedroom door. Very quietly, I climbed down the ladder and threw the covers back on the bed. I opened my bedroom door and peered down the narrow hallway. My parents’ door was shut. I grabbed my slippers and sauntered into the living room. The room was pitch black. Light rays beamed through the blinds every time a lightning bolt tore through the night sky.

Through the wooden blinds, I could see the storm growing over in the distance. Our house was up on a hill. We could see every house below us for miles. I felt like I lived in the most important house in the neighborhood.

Boom. Crack. Whoosh.

The storm raged on. Just then, I saw what must have been a mistake. There were red and blue objects floating above the clouds. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I walked to the front door and unlocked it. As I opened the door, a gust of cold air tried to rip the door from my hand. I gained control and shut the door behind me. I walked carefully down the steps to the front lawn. There I stood, staring at the terrifying glowing beings.

What were those glowing objects? Why were they floating there? Ghosts? No, that’s impossible. But they were moving like the ghosts I had seen on TV. The red ones looked like squids with their round heads and their long skinny tentacles.

The blue ones were tall and skinny. They had long arms that pointed straight toward the sky. The red and blue ghosts seemed to be riding atop the storm like a man on a surfboard. Then one of the red ghosts disappeared. It faded into the night sky while its friends stayed put.

Crack.

A lighting strike sent a chill down my spine. My back tingled with small bumps. I could see that the storm was approaching my house. Pretty soon, it would be directly above me.

I ran across the lawn and shoved open the front door. I had opened it a little too hard because the door opened all the way, pulling me with it. I closed the door and locked both locks. The floor creaked under my feet as I made my way to my parents’ bedroom. The loud creaking continued as I opened their bedroom door. I approached their bed on my mom’s side and gently tugged on her blanket.

Mom, I said quietly. Mom. Wake up. There’s a storm outside. There are ghosts out there.

Her eyes began to open, and she let