River of Possibilities

By Becky Steiner

Amelia Reegenpaupp doesn't know what to do: save imagination or save her mom. After spending three years basking in the whimsical wonders of the World of Imagination, Amelia returns to Earth's Reality and finds that Mortimer Media III, who controls practically everything, is eliminating creativity and imagination and has kidnapped her mom. With

• Language: English
• Publisher: KidzWayK12
• Release date: Jun 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781737109013

Book preview

1

River of Possibilities

River of Possibilities is for kids who’ve stopped believing that dreams come true, and that imagination can save the day. Keep believing in your dreams—don’t give up. Let your imagination be your guide and thrive! For the good of all this world, we need you!

Everything you can imagine is real.

~Pablo Picasso

CHAPTER 1

Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat

When adventure comes-a-tappin’, don’t be scared.

But do open the window.

Such was the lesson learned on a not-so-normal night.

Everything up until that point had been routine. Brushed my teeth—routine. Got into my jammies—routine. Said my prayers—Mum insisted—routine. Mum read to me a short fable—routine. Off to la-la land I almost went—routine. But not before I made my own sort of prayerful wish—routine.

"God, I wish Mum would be happier. I really wish Daddy was with us … that he didn’t have to die."

I fluffed up my pillow, ready to go to sleep, when I remembered to add, Oh, while you’re at it, granting wishes and all, I wish that Walt Disney World was really real, like a worldwide place to live. Just without all the high prices Mum complains about.

I thought, Was that it? Oh! I wish to never see commercials again. That’s just if you have time.

After my random nightly wishes, I drifted off to sleep. All routine.

Until something nudged me awake. Wide awake.

And that’s when adventure came a-tappin’.

Tat. Tat. Tat.

A noise. Maybe I was hearing things.

My nose twitched and tickled, like someone was tapping it with a feather.

Tat. Tat. Tat.

Normally, a tatting noise wouldn’t bother me. But at—I checked my alarm clock—12:37 a.m., how could it not? I knew all about creaking houses and creaking crickets. But this was not those.

Monsters! I’d heard of monsters creeping around little kids’ bedrooms. Could monsters really be real? Be here in my room? Be outside my window?

Tat. Tat. Tat.

I tilted my head toward the window. Toward the tatting.

Sure was a pesky tatting. If it was a monster, I vowed to be brave. To face it head on and command it to go away. I could be commanding.

Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat.

I sat up in my bed and stared at the window that wasn’t too far away. My imaginary x-ray vision superpower wasn’t going to help me. I tried not to be afraid. After all, soft pink petal curtains couldn’t possibly show me anything monstrous. Maybe something odd or magical, but those only came when there was a full moon.

That’s when I realized it was a full moon night. Anything was possible.

Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat. A little louder that time.

Hello, I said, hopefully sounding brave to whomever, or whatever was tatting at my window.

Nothing.

I twirled my legs from under my Mickey Mouse covers and dangled them off the side of the bed facing the window. My mouth hung open. I had been holding my breath.

The moon cast a gentle glow through the curtains, and shadows began swirling about.

Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat.

I slid my tiny toes into worn down, yet still cozy, slippers.

I scooted one foot in front of the other toward the window, careful to stay covert.

I froze, oozing out a shaky sigh. I knew I should’ve called for Mum. But I firmly told myself, "No! You be brave Amelia Reegenpaupp! You do not need Mum for this. Whatever’s tatting at that window, you will defeat it! (FYI: We’re not from England; we’re from Michigan. The British Mum" is a fun name my mom insisted on being called.)

I continued forward, slowly, until I reached the curtain.

Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat.

I paused. Be brave, I whispered to myself, not as boldly as before, but it was a goal. Be. Brave.

Tat. Tat. I cast open the curtain to see a fat wooden cane finish out the Rat-it-tat-tat. In the background was my BFF, Malakai (Kai, for short), doing a sort of Running Man dance to all the tatting.

And there you are, said an old man as he held up the tatting cane.

Yeah, finally, geesh! Kai said, pushing up his glasses that had slid to the tip of his nose while he danced.

I opened the window halfway—that was as far as the childproof window lock would allow. Yes, here I am, I said through the half-opened window. "You scared the wit outta me with all your tatting."

And would you rather me have yelled into your window, ‘Wake up and come out here this instant, Miss Amelia Reegenpaupp, with two p’s’? the old man asked with a crackly voice.

I examined this mysterious, tall, lanky old man to see if he could be a danger to Kai and me. The old guy had a decent amount of thinning gray hair, combed a little more over to one side. His lips were tight under a slit of a mustache. His face and ears were long, and he seemed like he could let out a hearty laugh if he wanted, as well as a stern scolding. He would make an acceptable fourth grade teacher, so he had to be okay. Right?

You’re not a monster, are you? I had to ask.

Kai let out a roaring laugh. A monster? Amelia you’re funny!

Are you a monster? the old man asked me.

Kai continued laughing, nudging his glasses back up his nose with each gut shuddering chuckle.

No, I’m not, I said, confidently. Well, then, are you real?

Kai laughed even harder, putting his hands on his stomach.

Because we have friends that aren’t, I added.

"He’s not one of those friends," Kai said.

Ah, then we are friends, the old man said. Well, now that that is settled, come now. We must be off so we shan’t be late.

Yes! Kai said, ready for adventure.

Off to where? I asked.

Why, off to the River of Possibilities, an adventure unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Now, let’s be off. With that, the old man tapped his cane against the side of my window.

Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat.

I can’t go at this hour, I protested. "Mum would not be happy."

So what! Kai said. Mine wouldn’t either—that’s why I want to go!

But—

Don’t but this, Kai said. Adventure’s what we do! Only this time I think it’s for real.

He has you there, the old man said. So, what do you say, Miss Amelia Reegenpaupp? With that, he lifted his cane again and tapped the side of the window. Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat.

The old man frowned. I see you are still resistant.

Huh? I asked. I mean really, why was he still tatting my window?

Do you want to come or not?

"Come on, Amelia, Kai whined. We pretty much do this all the time."

But I don’t get into trouble for our pretend adventures!

Bah! the old man bantered. No more talk. Either you want to change the world, or you don’t. Your choice, but it must be made now.

The old man lifted his cane but stopped short of tatting it.

Kai pushed his glasses back up his nose, giving me pleading eyes.

Beyond Kai and the old man, the full moon was spotlighting the forest, clearly showcasing it for dramatic effect. The trees whispered a winsome sound, as if trying to convince me that entering their hospitable abode was a good thing to do.

A cricket called.

A toad toppled another in pursuit of more dirt.

And some other varmint with glowing eyes appeared, then disappeared back into the woods.

I had often believed that the forest was magical. Isn’t that what a forest is supposed to be?

Magical.

But I had never dared to go into one at such an hour, and with a mysterious old man at that. Like I said, Mum would not approve. Nor would Mum approve of Kai being outside my window beckoning me at this hour. Mysterious as the old man was, he also seemed familiar. Like I had known him from a time long ago. So, right or wrong, I figured that since he was an adult and old and fourth grade teacherie and sort of funny, I would risk it and go.

Well, all right then, I finally said. But I shouldn’t be out too late.

Bah! the old man said. You’ll be back right when you need to be.

Since I can’t fit through the window, should I just meet you by the front door?

The old man grinned. He tapped his cane to the window. Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat.

The glass window turned to gel, then disappeared.

Make haste now, Miss Amelia Reegenpaupp, he said. It won’t be gone forever.

My jaw dropped, as did Kai’s. Whoa, Kai marveled.

Ah, the tatting, now it made sense.

I slid through the invisible window and placed my tiny slippered-toes onto the dewy, grassy ground. My ankle-long Mary Poppins nightgown felt mismatched for the adventure. But, then again, Kai’s sneakers with no socks, number eight baseball t-shirt, and flannel pajama pants didn’t scream warriors and warlords or wizards and witches, either. Speaking of wizards.…

That was magical, I noted of the disappearing window. Are you a wizard?

Bah! the old man said. You kids and your wizards and witches and elves.

Kai and I looked at each other curiously. Elves? we mouthed to each other.

I am not a wizard nor any such creature, he said. I can simply defy the laws of physics on a whim.

Deff … fizz … what? I wondered.

The old man thought for a moment. Right, you are younglings. We will settle it with: I can do what you may think is impossible.

The old man put his cane back up to the window. Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat. The window reappeared and was completely closed.

The old man looked at Kai and me.

We stared back at him, wondering, What now?

Right, then, we’re off, he said. Follow me and stay close.

CHAPTER 2

Through Woods and Thistles

My slippers felt tinges of clamminess from the nighttime dew that covered the ground. I squirmed around in them, but they didn’t get too sopping wet, yet. The old man walked to the edge of the forest. He batted a few twigs out of the way with his cane and stepped into the wooded wonder.

Kai and I glanced at each other, wondering who’d go next.

Kai shrugged his shoulders, saying, I’ll go. He about dove into the forest on the old man’s heels.

There seemed to be a fear bug squirming around in my belly that had to be squashed before I could move forward.

Fear be gone! That would have to do.

I plunged into the forest.

Tracking close behind the old man and Kai, I plodded over small brush and branches. The full moon cracked through the trees and offered its light as an escort. The autumn air dropped dead leaves upon damp twigs as the three of us slogged our way through the winding paths.

Watch your step, Miss Amelia Rae Reegenpaupp and Mr. Malakai Noah Fenbender, the old man stated.

What is your name, sir? And how do you know us?

You may call me Mr. Charles. And who says I know you?

Kai laughed while kicking aside branches.

Um, you know our names, I said.

I know your names, Mr. Charles confirmed. And I know that you, Miss Amelia, are nine years old, and that you, Mr. Malakai, are the ripe old age of eight. But who says I know you?

Crickets creaked.

Kai stopped laughing and curled his nose and shook his head.

A skunk was nearby.

Mr. Charles stopped next to an old oak tree and tapped its enormously wide trunk. Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat. The tree lifted its branches just a smidgen, allowing us to walk under without being bopped in the head. Mr. Charles nodded to the old oak, and the old oak seemed to return his nod with a complimentary groan.

How do you know our names and how old we are? I asked.

Because I was told that you are Miss Amelia Rae Reegenpaupp, with two p’s, he said. And that you are nine. And that your … how do you kids say? Your BUFF?

Kai and I looked at each other, and then back at Mr. Charles. BFF? I questioned.

That must be it! Best Friends Forever, not Best Ultimate Friends Forever, Mr. Charles said with a knowing smile. I was told that your BFF is Mr. Malakai Noah Fenbender, and that he was eight years old.

Who told you? I asked.

Kai had to be getting dizzy from looking forward at Mr. Charles when he spoke, then back at me when I spoke. But then again, if ten minutes nonstop on the merry-go-round at maximum warp didn’t faze him, why would this?

Mr. Charles sighed. If I told you who told me, would you then be silent for the duration of our journey?

I thought about it. Yes, more information was well worth the price of silence. So, I let out my heartiest Yes!

Well then I won’t tell because I rather enjoy listening to you talk.

That’s when I knew he was weird. No one ever said that to me. Ever. No fair! I protested.

Kai laughed.

All will be made clear soon enough, Miss Amelia.

Farther into our journey, Mr. Charles stopped by a pond and seemed to be considering something. He looked this way and then he looked that way.

Kai and I stopped, too. We also looked this way and then we looked that way.

Mr. Charles looked up at the speckled sky, as if seeking the moon and stars for advice. He kept tatting his cane on the ground like he was counting down. Tat. Tat. Tat. Tat. Tat.

There was no Rat-it-tat-tat.

To our right were thistle weeds and bushes and branches for as far the moon’s glow would go, which wasn’t all that far being that it was also dark outside. It wasn’t as if the moon was as bright as the sun. Of course, that’s stating the obvious.

To our left was a narrow, well-worn path between two small ponds.

Yes, okay then, off we go, Mr. Charles said, shuffling to the right in the direction of the thistle patch. He lifted his cane, touching the tip of a thistle plant resting just before the cluttered field.

Tat. Tat. Rat-it-tat-tat.

The thistles began to carve a path through the field.

Kai galloped into the field yelling, Yes! This is so cool!

A horrible dread rushed over me like something bad was about to happen. My eyes slammed shut. A vision played out of Kai kneeling on the ground, crying, and holding his head. No, Kai! Wait! I yelled, opening my eyes.

The thistles cleared, but not fast enough. Kai caught his leg on a branch, tripped and fell into a bush of small thorns. Owwww, he moaned.

Mr. Malakai Noah Fenbender! Mr. Charles called out. What have you done?

I ran ahead, not waiting for the elderly Mr. Charles. Kai, are you okay? I asked. I squatted next to him and patted his back.

Kai glided back unto his legs, rubbing his forehead.

Blood trailed down his face and mingled in with his short blonde wavy hair.

Move aside, Mr. Charles said, approaching us. Move. Aside. He tatted me on the hip with his cane, motioning for me to move, so I did.

Let me see, Mr. Charles said.

Kai sniffled, spots of tears streaming in with blood. Do we gotta to go home now? Do I need to go to the hospital and get stitches? Am I going to bleed to death?

Bah! Mr. Charles said. This is petite petunias for Mr. Charles. I will wipe it all away, just you see. Just stay still, young Mr. Malakai. He placed his hand over Kai’s hand, probably to move it out of the way so he could tend to the wound.

"Are you going to tat my head with your cane?" Kai asked.

Bah! Mr. Charles said. The cane’s too big for your head. Instead, he cupped a handful of dirt, spit into it, and then patted it together with both hands. Meanwhile, the blood kept seeping out of Kai’s thorn-inflicted wound.

Kai’s glasses were on the verge of falling off his nose, when Mr. Charles said, Remove your glasses.

Kai did so and held them by his side.

Mr. Charles then spread the spitty mud cake over Kai’s face, mainly over the wound.

I crunched my nose because that was just ... Ewww, I said, That. Is. Gross!

Mr. Charles paid no attention to my blatant disgust of a spitty mud cake smothered over Kai’s face. He continued to rub the mud into Kai’s forehead for about a minute.

Kai stayed quiet.

Mr. Charles then took off his dark brown, buttoned-down sweater vest, leaving only his light brown, long-sleeved, polyester shirt. He ripped the sweater vest in two and dabbed the dry cotton material over Kai’s forehead.

The blood disappeared. Stitches appeared over the closed-up wound. Mr. Charles swiped his hand across the stitched-up area again until only a one-inch scar remained.

All done, Mr. Charles said.

Kai patted the old wound with a look of