The Return to Podocia

By M G Nelson

Sig’s back to feeling out of place. She’s back to Nowhereville, South Dakota. She’s left Reggie in Podocia, where he is no longer a cat, but a boy and a prince. Funny how that works.  
 
It's gut wrenching to know she left her long lost father on the wrong end of an exploding volcano while she's st

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barn Cat Press
• Release date: Sep 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9780997819175

M G Nelson

M.G. Nelson whiles the time away crafting novels on a farm tucked away in a quiet corner of the Upper Midwest. Cows, chickens, cats, and a couple of good hounds keep things lively for the author. Good books, travel, and solid friends keep things real.

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The Return to Podocia

M. G. Nelson

DEDICATION

For my nephew, Dan, the bravest man I know.

Text copyright © 2018 M. G. Nelson

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places, events or to living persons alive or dead. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the author, illustrator, or publisher except for brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Barn Cat Press, IDS Center, 80 S. 8th St, Ste. 900, Minneapolis, MN 55402

www.barncatpress.com

Summary: A teen and her friend fall through a portal into a dangerous world seeking her father.

ISBN: 978-0-9978191-6-8

Manufactured in the United States of America

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to Kandi and Jodi for your time, and to Sanja and Caroline for their work on the final product. A huge thank you to my readers, who have given me the motivation to continue to world create and write Sig’s story.

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER ONE

Time slows down when you’re not in danger of being hacked to bits or having a sword thrust through your back. Sig couldn’t decide what was worse, being caught by grease ball Prince Reficul and dying a slow, tortuous death at the hands of his wicked mother, Lady Nastella, or the audible torture of Mr. Johnson’s wet, thick smoker’s voice chewing his students out for messing up algebra variables.

People, this is not rocket science, he said, spittle spraying the kids in the front row. I’ve told you over and over again that four is the coefficient in this problem. Every last one of you—except for Kyle—got that wrong.

Sig groaned, along with most of the kids except for Kyle, sitting behind her, who punched her in the shoulder.

Shut up, Granola Eater, he hissed. Sig tensed and curled her fists. Had they been back in the Other World, she would have pounded him for the insult and the unmerited smack. Instead, she forced her muscles to relax and glanced at the clock. Two minutes to bell and out of this . . . heck.

What’s wrong, Hippie Freak? Heat getting to you? Kyle whispered as Mr. Johnson began handing back their quizzes. Sig ignored him. She had good reason to wear the heavy canvas coat, the thick-soled boots, and the double layers of shirts.

She’d never be as caught off guard and as poorly dressed as she was when she got sucked into the Other World last time. She had a nagging feeling in her gut that she would be visiting that world again. That was fine by her as she needed to go back to find out what had happened to her father, or what was left of his body.

She’d deal with Kyle later; right now, her mind was on ducking Horrendous Hilde on the play date set up by her Aunt Char for today’s Homecoming festivities. Ever since coming back from the Other World, she had found her need for alone time harder and harder to come by and her tolerance for people at an all-time low.

Mr. Johnson placed her quiz on her desk, his index finger pointing to the red C+ on top along with his note: "I expect better of you, Signe. You are capable of better, given your honors courses you’re taking this semester."

He frowned at her and moved on. Sig sighed. She would need biology in the Other World; algebra not so much. Botany had become her favorite subject during her convalescence after the Other World had spit her back into this world injured and with a serious concussion.

She had spent many days laying on the couch the rest of the summer, laptop in her lap, scouring the Internet for information on all the plants and trees she’d seen and used during her journey in the Other World. That, along with learning all she could about first aid through local Red Cross and first responders’ training, kept her occupied and less worried about Reggie, her dad, and all the other good people and animals she’d left behind fighting a terrible war.

People, I expect the first two pages of your worksheets on Monday, said Mr. Johnson, his voice rising over the students’ restless end-of-class rustling.

But it’s Homecoming weekend, whined Chris, one of the unfortunate spit targets in the front row.

You still have, Mr. Johnson said, looking at the clock, exactly 71 hours and 29 seconds to get them done. You can find a few hours to do algebra over that time period. I want all work shown for all credit. Some of you need every point you can get to even pass basic algebra class this quarter. That is, unless you want to spend another nine weeks with me again. It took exactly 20 seconds for him to issue his threat and 15 seconds for the responding sighs and muttering to die down.

Sig readied her black leather backpack under her desk, gripping the top handle, and shot up fast when the bell rang. She deftly kicked Kyle in the ankle as he tried to trip her, ignoring his yell and name-calling as she burst through the classroom door and banked a hard left to the nearest exit.

Kids poured out of classrooms like volcanic lava in their haste to flee their classrooms. With luck, Sig would miss Hilde, one of the local homeschooled kids being dropped off by their parents, to join in on the public school kids’ homecoming festivities.

She dodged the jocks, the band geeks, the cheerleaders, and other hangers-on heading in the opposite direction to the pep rally held in the gymnasium to muster for the parade, keeping the exit in her sight.

The crowd hurled her out into a near empty hall, and she flung her backpack over her shoulder as she neared the door. As she reached for the handle, the door opened and in stepped a girl about Sig’s age. She was curvy, yet athletic, with killer copper-colored hair that would have reached her waist if it didn’t form a mass of perfect small spirals. The girl wore a breezy, summery dress fitting for the warm fall day.

Hi, Hilde, Sig muttered, her mouth set in a grim line.

Hey, Sig, said Hilde. Good thing my mom dropped me off at this side entrance, huh? She couldn’t find a spot to park in the front or the back near enough to the doors, otherwise I would have had to walk a couple of blocks. Lucky for you, I ran into you right away.

Great, mumbled Sig, her getaway-from-it-all plan blown away.

Man, I can’t wait for the game tonight, but mostly I can’t wait for the dance. Do you think Kyle and Shane will be there?

No doubt. Sig bristled at the sound of her nemesis’ name.

Now, Sig, Kyle picks on you because he likes you. You know, boys are more immature at this age and picking on girls they like happens; certainly you’ve covered that in your health class? We did in last quarter’s lesson module at home. Mom explained it so well even my little brothers understood. Too bad Char doesn’t homeschool you, too. I do wish she would; it’d do wonders for your academic growth.

Nah, Kyle is a jerk who thinks its okay to hurt girls, said Sig. And anyone who teaches otherwise needs their head examined.

Hilde wrinkled her nose and continued. Anyway . . . Mom had to tear me away from my algebra module today. Is that fun or what? Where are you guys in that class?

Learning about variables and coefficients, said Sig. She reached for the door handle and yanked it open. The hallway’s smells were closing in on her. Sig stepped through the door and into the fresh breeze, inhaling a lungful of crisp autumn air and exhaling stale sweat and body spray-tainted air.

Isn’t this the greatest? asked Hilde, prancing alongside Sig as she hustled away from the school. Sun-shiny day; the entire afternoon to ourselves before the game and dance; and look at my new outfit.

Sig barely glanced at Hilde. Yes, it’s great.

Hilde twirled around, making the skirt billow out. I made it from a pattern I came up with all in my head, after I won the reserve champion at the state fair for my blouse and skirt combo.

Listen, Hilde, I gotta go to the library to finish up an online first responders’ course, said Sig in a brilliant flash of inspiration.

What? We had plans to attend the pep rally, and then the parade, then just hang around town. Then we were going to go out to eat before the game. Don’t be a spoil sport again.

Sig felt a tinge of guilt looking at Hilde’s disappointed face. Yeah, well, I forgot that I needed to submit this today. Why don’t you go to the pep rally and then I’ll meet you in front of the library to watch the parade?

Hilde stuck out her lower lip. Fine. I’ll meet you there ten minutes before the parade starts at two.

Fantastic, said Sig, as she turned and walked away. She’d be making her way back home at one thirty then. The farm was only six miles out of town and the hike would do her good. Her great physical shape after the hard physical existence in the Other World had speeded her recovery from her injuries.

She did all she could to keep her strength and endurance up. Long nature walks kept her lungs and legs in shape, and hefting hay bales for her Uncle Dan’s farmer friends—and being paid well to do so—kept her shoulders and arms buff. No way would she go back to being a marshmallow. Never again would she be caught as unaware as she was the last time, not physically or mentally, and suffer those grave consequences.

CHAPTER TWO

Sig finished her library research just as her phone alarm buzzed. One twenty-five. Time enough to put the books away and get out of town before Hilde tracked her down. She gathered up the materials she’d taken off the shelves and placed them on the return cart.

Leaving to watch the parade, Signe? asked Rae, the town’s librarian. I was surprised to see you come in today even though you’re a regular. I thought you’d be at the pep rally and all.

Nope, I needed to do some more research, Sig said as she adjusted the straps on her backpack.

Rae smiled and tapped on her computer keyboard. I meant to tell you that I’ll be ordering a few more books on medicinal herbs. That might help you with your research. In the meantime, I just got this one in. She slid a slim volume titled Native Medicinal Herbs and Plants of the Upper Great Plains across the desk.

Thanks, Mrs. Minahan, Sig said, slipping the book into her backpack. Would you let me know when the other books come in?

I sure will. You have fun at the parade.

Sig nodded and left the library. Stepping out onto the front landing, she watched the floats and people milling about as they prepared for the parade. It would start a block up from the library and proceed down the main street. The library building sat atop a small hill, which gave Sig the vantage point of scanning the crowds. No Hilde.

She trotted down the stairs and was ready to step onto the sidewalk when a voice called out to her.

Hey, Sig! Hilde ran down the library lawn and bounced next to Sig. Good thing I decided to sit on the lawn, huh? It’ll be a great spot to watch the parade. C’mon.

Sig reluctantly let the girl drag her to a shaded spot on the hillside grass. As far as parades went, this one was good. The school’s marching band was only slightly out of step and mostly in tune; the football players rode on the town’s fire engines, which strobed its red lights and sounded its engines; the cheerleaders walked the route in full uniform, leading the crowds in cheers; the elementary kids marched class by class, wearing the school’s orange and black colors; and businesses participated by handing out candies from their small floats.

Each junior high and high school class had a float. The students had borrowed hay racks from area farmers to decorate for the parade. They’d also borrowed hefty pickups to pull them. Sig hadn’t shown up for float decorating night and had taken a little razzing for her lack of participation from her class mentor, the junior varsity football coach Mr. Hansen. Shane was their class’s Homecoming prince, and he smiled and waved next to Sara, their Homecoming class princess.

Oh, Sig, what I wouldn’t give to be to be in Sara’s place, said Hilde. That would be the only reason I’d not want to be homeschooled.

Real princesses don’t wear gowns and sit on parade floats much, if at all, muttered Sig. They practice fighting and plan strategy to keep their kingdoms safe while wearing more practical clothing.

Whatever are you talking about? asked Hilde.

Never mind.

They watched the rest of the parade in silence. Afterwards, they wandered about town, a relief to Sig’s jittery nerves. Exercise always calmed Sig down, but after an hour of aimless wandering Hilde had enough.

Sig, my feet are killing me, she complained. And I’m cold now.

You should’ve worn something better than those thin leather flats.

They’re the perfect match for this dress and these tights. Besides, it’s getting cold; it’s dinner time; and I’m hungry.

It’s not my fault that you chose style over function, but you’re right it is dinner time. Let’s get some DQ. They changed direction and walked the mile to the restaurant. The burgers were good, the fries nice and greasy and the ice cream helped cool Sig down under her layers of clothing.

Afterwards, they walked the length of town to the school’s athletic field. The lights lit up the dark sky, bouncing off the storm clouds gathering overhead. The wind started to blow, and Hilde shivered with the cool breeze.

Darn, she said. I need to call my mom for a coat and leggings. I’m getting really cold.

You don’t have to. I have a coat in my backpack you can borrow. Sig slipped the bag off her shoulders and rummaged through it. A rolled-up black fleece hoodie was scrunched in the bottom.

You expect me to wear that? Hilde gasped. That’s hideous.

It’s practical, and it’ll keep you warm.

Why didn’t you offer it to me before we went to DQ?

Sig shrugged and handed the jacket to Hilde.

Hilde wrinkled her nose, but put it on. I’m still going to send a text to my mom to have her bring me a coat and my black leggings. She’s coming anyways with my brothers to watch the game.

While they waited for a return text from Hilde’s mother, they walked the running track that surrounded the football field. Crowds of students, parents, and community members filled the track and the bleachers.

Announcers made small talk about the football team and the opposing team—a rival school from another county—while the school’s pep band and cheerleaders keep the crowds’ spirits high with fight songs and cheers. The concession stands wafted out the aroma of freshly buttered popcorn, hotdogs roasting on the grill, and hot chocolate and coffee.

The girls ran into other students they knew, making small talk about the team’s chances, the Homecoming dance, and general eighth-grade gossip. As they rounded the far bend—an area not well lit by the overhead lights—Hilde’s mom texted that she was waiting near the entrance with the coat and leggings.

I’ll be right back, Sig, said Hilde dashing off before Sig had a chance to say she’d go with her.

As Hilde sprinted off toward the entry gates at the far end of the track, Sig heard snickering as she stood by a huge cottonwood tree.

Well, well, if it ain’t the Granola Queen. Kyle and two of his junior varsity football buddies stepped out from behind the tree. They were dressed in muscle shirts, baggy athletic shorts, and untied sneakers. One boy hid a small bottle at the tree’s base before joining Kyle and his friend as they approached Sig.

You guys have been drinking, she said as the smell of alcohol reached her. Where’d you get it?

Ain’t none of your business, now is it, Granola Girl?

You get it from your dad? she asked. It was common knowledge that Kyle’s father spent more time at the local bars than he did at home.

Lots you know, Erickson. At least I have a dad. Where’s yours? Oh, that’s right, he ditched you and your crazy mom as soon as he could, now didn’t he?

Sig’s fists curled, but she didn’t respond.

I suppose some book nerd like you are against guys having a little fun, said Justin. Spending too much time with your nose in a stupid book does that to a person.

I’m just against kids with a few brain cells killing the ones they have with alcohol, said Sig.

Hear that, guys? Treehugger’s saying us football heroes are dumb, said Kyle. I was the one who aced the algebra test.

And which upper classman on the football team gave you the answers? asked Sig. You know Mr. Johnson gives the same quizzes and tests year after year.

Shut it, said Kyle, his fist balled up. I don’t hit girls as a general rule, but sometimes rules need to be broken.

Oh, why don’t you stick to playing with your little footballs and shooting at stop signs with your gun?

Naw. I have something else in mind. I want to see what you’re always hiding under that coat. It ain’t natural for a girl to be wearing that kind of coat outside of a barn.

What are you talking about? asked Sig. The hairs on the back of her neck raised up as the three boys laughed.

What do you wear under that coat? asked Dylan. You wearing a bra yet?

What’s it to you, jerk? asked Sig, tensing up as he reached out a finger to touch her coat collar.

Let us see, said Justin as he circled around to her other side. As he did, both boys grabbed her hands as Kyle leaned forward and unzipped the jacket. Sig twisted and tried to jerk her arms away, but that only pulled the coat off her body. She spun around leaving Justin and Dylan holding the coat sleeves as her backpack dropped to the ground.

Stepping sideways, she punched Kyle in the side of the face. As he jerked away, she stepped in front of him, kneeing him in the groin. Justin and Dylan dropped the jacket and rushed her. She jumped aside, letting them trample Kyle who lay on the ground, groaning.

The two boys circled around and came at her as one. She held a leg out, tripping them. Justin fell, while Dylan stumbled forward. Sig tottered, almost falling herself, but recovered in time to stomp on Justin’s hand. He cried out in pain as she next kicked him in the side.

Dylan started for her, but then froze as a stern voice called out.

What’s going on here? Mr. Hansen marched over and grabbed Dylan’s arm in one hand and Sig’s in the other.

What are you boys doing on the ground? he demanded.

She attacked us, Mr. Hansen, said Dylan. We were just standing here, minding our business, and she punched Kyle, and then knocked Justin down.

She’s crazy, said Justin as he stood. She stepped on my hand and kicked me in the side on purpose.

And she kicked me right where it counts, added Kyle, painfully standing up.

Sig, what do you have to say? asked Mr. Hansen.

They took my coat.

That’s it?

Yeah, they took my coat. Sig pursed her lips knowing the coach would take the boys side.

For that reason you beat them up?

She didn’t beat us up, said Kyle. She sucker punched us. There’s a difference.

I see, said Mr. Hansen. "Sig, pick up your stuff