Sniffers and Kate

By Xlibris US

You are a lucky girl, Kate, Mom said, stroking Kates hair off her forehead. I cant believe it. This is the second time you have cheated death. You must be more than lucky. You must be very special. You must have something very important to do in this life.
Moms words poured over Kate like a warm blanket. She was special. She did have something important to do. The words rang true and soothed her like the warming rays of the sun after a cold rain.
Join Kate Walker, an impetuous ten-year-old tomboy; her friend, Jake; and her incredible dog, Sniffers, through an adventurous summer of love and laughter, friendship and family, honesty, sorrow, change, and even death. Learn as Kate did from her beloved grandfatherthere are great wonders in this world; you just need to know where to look.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499071320

Book preview

Chapter One

Kate threw the blanket over her head then froze. The night was hot and muggy, but fear paralyzed her as stiff as that dead fish she’d found floating among the ice chunks in the creek last winter. She tried to slow her breathing as she strained her ears to pick up the noise that had awakened her and sent her into this self-imposed coffin beneath her covers. But all she could hear was the pounding of her heart exploding in her ears.

Wait! There it was again. A whine. Scratching. Then silence. What was it? Her imagination came alive. Too many late-night movies began playing in her mind, jumbling scenes together in a frightful new series that would impress even an experienced screenwriter.

Her hot breath, coupled with the stifling summer heat, forced her to pull back her covers just enough for her nose to poke through. Her eyes were wide in the blackened room, scanning the window, her closet door, and the opening of her bedroom door, silhouetted ever so slightly in the glow of the night light. Was it her imagination, or was the door slowly closing? No! It was closing, ever so quietly. As the doorknob latched shut, the covers went back up, and the paralysis returned tenfold.

Thirty seconds seemed like thirty minutes as she gasped for air, trying not to make a sound. She could hear footsteps padding quietly down the hall. Then the scratching again. What was it? Who was it?

It was even more difficult to hear now that the door was closed. But she was certain that someone was in the house. Why were they scratching? What did they want? Should she scream for her mother? Her nine-year-old tomboy attitude wouldn’t allow that. What if Jake heard about it? She’d never hear the end of it.

Thoughts of Jake took her mind briefly off her immediate problem: that of being scared stiff. Her face flushed hot with memories of the last tussle she’d had with Jake. He thinks he’s so tough, she fumed. I’d a made it to the top of that tree if Grandpa hadn’t stopped me. I wasn’t scared. And she winced as she became aware of the big scrape she had on her elbow, from when she’d tackled Jake to the ground for calling her a scaredy-cat.

Why did she let it bother her so to be called scaredy-cat? She didn’t know, but what she did know was it made the ire rise up in her until her ears glowed red and she felt she was going to burst. She could still remember the first time Jake had called her scaredy-cat. They’d been down playing by the creek last summer, using willow branches as makeshift fishing poles. They’d even tied a long piece of Mom’s black yarn to each pole and molded a piece of soft yellow cheese on the end. Jake had wanted to try tying a worm to the end, but she didn’t want anything to do with worms; they looked too much like snakes. She shivered as she even thought of it. She wasn’t sure why she was so afraid of snakes, but it was the one thing she could not handle. Mice, spiders, crickets … Even coming face-to-face with a lion would be more suitable to Kate than ever having to see, much less touch, a snake.

When Jake had realized that Kate didn’t like worms, he made sure he caught one right away and chased her mercilessly, holding it out to flip on her if he caught her. But he’d never catch her. She was too fast. But then it happened. She slipped on a muddy patch of grass near the creek, and down she went, dislodging a small rock in her descent. And like lightning, a snake slithered out from under the rock, across her hand, and rapidly toward the creek. Jake had caught up to her by then and, in a flash, had that little snake by the tail and was twirling it above Kate’s head. She screamed and screamed and screamed some more, all the while backing away from Jake in a crab walk across the dirt. The more she screamed, the more he laughed, following her and taunting her with the snake. When tears came to her terrified eyes, he could see the joke had gone too far and tossed the snake over into the creek and said, Oh come on, Kate, it was just a little garter snake. Don’t be such a scaredy-cat. He reached his hand out to help her up, but Kate, on all fours now, scrambling to get up, ran away from him like he were a gorilla or a bear about to gobble her up.

I hate you, Jake Thomas. I hate you! she had cried as she fled to the loft in the barn where she always hid when she was in trouble or afraid.

Kate was breathing heavily with the memory of that day, but she stopped in her musing long enough to realize she could no longer hear any noise in the house. The blanket came carefully down below her nose again. The same wide eyes again scanned the dark room, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary this time. The door was still shut, to be sure, but maybe it had been shut the whole time and she’d just imagined the whole thing. Mom always said her imagination would get the best of her someday. Or maybe she was just a scaredy-cat. She cringed at the thought and could feel her ears turning red.

Gradually, she lowered the covers to her shoulders. It was hot. She began to feel foolish for letting her imagination get her carried away and was glad Jake knew nothing of this ordeal, and he never would. She could feel her body begin to relax, and her eyes felt dry and heavy. As she closed them, she was in the tree again, climbing higher and higher. No one would ever call her scaredy-cat again. The leaves, the branches, and the warm wind blowing the clouds in white swirls like cotton candy all flowed together, and the next thing she knew, Mom was calling her for breakfast.

Chapter Two

When Kate got up for breakfast the next morning, she had all but forgotten the little episode in the night. She had plans on her mind. Somehow she had to get Grandpa distracted long enough for her to climb that tree and put Jake in his place forever. She sat down at the table, slowly picking at her pancake, glaring at Grandpa hiding behind the newspaper. What was even more frustrating was the fact that every few minutes, he’d peek around the newspaper just to catch her eye, and then he’d wink at her or smile, his blue-gray eyes twinkling more than usual under his bushy black eyebrows. Most men his age had white hair and white eyebrows, or at least gray hair and gray eyebrows. But Grandpa had white and gray hair and black eyebrows. It gave him a very disarming look. And those eyes. Those twinkling blue-gray eyes. They never missed anything. And they never stopped twinkling. Grandpa talked with his eyes. Those eyes could preach a sermon in one glance, but somehow, no matter how mad Grandpa got, those eyes always twinkled, and they always said I love you.

Kate melted a bit as she thought about that. In truth, there wasn’t anyone Kate loved more than Grandpa. It was just that right now, she had a tree she needed to climb, and Grandpa seemed to think it wasn’t safe somehow. How would he know? She glared at him again. I wouldn’t fall. I never fall, she huffed, having an imaginary argument with him and forgetting all about the fall last summer that had incited the snake escapade.

Just then, Grandpa caught her eye. The twinkle was brighter than ever. Big day for you today, Kate, he said knowingly, with a wink.

Whadaya mean, Grandpa? Kate asked, forgetting her grudge against him for a moment and wondering what all the winks were about this morning.

Why, you haven’t forgotten what today is, have ya? Grandpa lowered the paper to take a deeper look into Kate’s eyes.

Kate’s eyes were bluer than Grandpa’s. Everybody said she had her mother’s eyes. She also had her mother’s red hair although Kate’s was considerably darker. Her eyes met with his, and she willed herself not to blink as she tried to read his mind. Grandpa didn’t blink either. They’d had these stare-downs before. Kate’s eyes began to burn, but still, Grandpa didn’t blink. How could she even think and try to remember what today was if she had to concentrate so hard on not blinking?

Grandpa’s eyes just seemed to twinkle more and more the longer he stared at her. Kate’s eyes began to water. I can’t let him beat me, she chided herself.

Then Mom came to the table with more hot pancakes. Oh, you two, stop it. You’re going to give her eye strain, Dad.

Grandpa winked, and the contest was over. Kate blinked rapidly, trying to hide the tears that had been forming.

Of course Kate knows what today is, don’t cha, pumpkin? Mom continued. But we aren’t going to celebrate until after lunch. Now, Grandpa, don’t forget the little chore I gave you. Kate, finish your pancakes, and get these dishes done up, then you can go play with Jake until lunch.

Mom took off her apron, and disappeared down the hall. Grandpa went back to his newspaper, chuckling softly, and Kate took one more pancake, doused it in syrup, and sat back trying to think what today was. But she couldn’t think about that long; she had bigger problems on her mind. She still had to figure out what to do with Grandpa so she could climb that tree.

Then suddenly Grandpa slapped the newspaper down on the table so sharply that Kate jumped, being thrown from her world of thought. Well, I guess I’d best get after it, Grandpa said.

Get after what? Kate asked.

It’s a secret, Grandpa said in an exaggerated whisper. Now I’ll just mosey off down to the barn, and you be a mindin’ your own business, he said. I mean it, Kate, don’t you come a-botherin’ me. I got things to do. With that and one more grand smile and a huge wink, he was off.

Kate watched as he stopped at the coat hook near the back door and put on his ole farm hat. He must have had that hat nigh on fifty years, Kate thought. But he never went outside without it. She watched out the big dining window as Grandpa meandered down the path to the barn. His shoulders seemed more bent than usual, but there was no halt in his step. The love came back in her heart, and then glee. She suddenly realized Grandpa was busy! Now was her chance. She flung her napkin on the table and raced out the door to find Jake. The dishes were the last thing on her mind.

Chapter Three

It didn’t take long to track down Jake. As usual, he was out in his garden, hoeing weeds.

Hey, Snaffle, what you up to today? Jake called when he saw her coming down the lane.

Don’t call me Snaffle. Where did you ever come up with a stupid name like that anyway? she chided as she swung her legs up and vaulted over the rail fence. Although Jake was nearly two years older than she, she’d never felt intimidated by him. She could hold her own with Jake Thomas—that was for sure. In fact, she was a good inch or two taller than he, a sore spot that she could always rub if he got too sassy.

Oh, it came to me when I saw my dad having to use the snaffle bit to train a horse that’s a little too spirited. He laughed.

Very funny, Shortie, she shot back with a glare that quickly stifled his mirth. Look, I’m going down to climb that tree today. Are you going to come and watch, or are you too scared?

It’s your neck, he retorted. Why should I be scared?

Then let’s go before Grandpa comes. He’s busy with something in the barn. Now’s my chance.

Jake looked back toward his house and let his eyes sweep over the fields, the makeshift animal shelters, and the small barn that was more of a shed than a barn. No one was in sight, so he dropped the hoe on the ground, leaped over the fence, and started the race to the tree.

Cheater! Kate called as she made a second vault over the fence and chased after Jake, catching him just as they reached the tree. They both paused a few minutes, catching their breath from the fast sprint.

I still caught up to you, Kate panted.

Jake didn’t reply. He was gasping for air, his lungs wheezing and constricting. He should have known better, but just for once, he’d like to win Kate in a race.

Kate recovered quickly and began her climb of the old oak, while Jake was still coughing and sputtering. She climbed on the big rock she and Jake had managed to roll over to the tree for her last climbing attempt. She’d gone up about ten feet that time and, when she looked down, had kind of frozen. That’s when Jake had called her a scaredy-cat. As she had stood immobile, clinging to the tree branch, he started laughing and chanting Look at Katie, stuck in a tree, just like a scaredy-cat is she.

Just then Grandpa had come and ordered her to come down from that tree this instant. As Kate had clung to the branch, she remembered the summer when she was six that Grandpa had had to go get the big ladder to help a kitten that had climbed too high in that same tree.

I’m not going to be like that scaredy-cat, Kate had thought, and she willed herself to loosen her grasp on the branch and begin her descent. Grandpa had lectured her severely and warned her to never try such a foolish thing again. But Grandpa wasn’t here this time, and this time, she’d show Jake just what she was made of.

Kate steadied herself atop the big rock and then jumped as high as she could, catching hold of the lowest branch. She swung herself up like a monkey, and in no time at all, she had traversed the next three branches, bringing her back to where she had been before. This time she looked down and saw Jake, who had barely recovered his breathing, and before she had a chance to even think about being scared, she reached up for the next handhold and pushed her foot against the bark, inching her way up. Limb over limb she climbed. She was not going to look down now; she was just going to keep climbing. The branches and limbs were thinner now, not so strong. She had to search for one that would hold her weight. She paused, leaning a little more heavily on the branch next to her for support. She did not look down. Instead, she looked out, and what she saw caused her to gasp in awe.

The valley in which she lived was far more beautiful than she had ever realized. She could see clearly all the way to the creek and the pastures, where cows stood lazily chewing their cud and horses dozed in the morning sun. She saw Jake’s house, smaller than her own and not tended to as carefully. Her eyes followed the lane between the two homes, shaded by a half-dozen trees of one variety or other, and then on down the road to town. She had walked that lane a hundred times, almost always with Jake by her side, to go catch the school bus nearly a half-mile away. She and Jake were the only children down that small lane, and it was too difficult for the bus to turn, especially when winter snows grew deep. And so she and Jake had walked to the bus stop every day during the school year since she was six and he was eight. She had to admit, she was glad for his company—most of the time. They’d shared a lot of fun times together, swimming in the pond behind his house, dropping from the great swing that hung suspended from a tree nearby, wading in the creek, trying to catch the fish that they were certain were there. Sometimes they’d just lie on their backs beneath this great tree she was climbing and create scary pictures and horror stories from the innocent clouds floating peacefully by, never dreaming of the demons the young children made of them. For as Mom had said, Kate had a great imagination.

Sometimes Jake and Kate played baseball or soccer in the field by her barn, and once in a great while, a few town kids would come out and play with them. That was when Jake and Kate forgot any competition between themselves and became an invincible team of their own against the less-skilled, less-seasoned town brats: the secret name they used only between each other.

As Kate continued to muse and ponder, with memories coming to her like the sweet fragrance of apple blossoms in spring, the lane beckoned her eyes back to her home and to the door of the barn. It all seemed so small from up here. Yet Kate knew better. It was a large home and a massive barn, with a loft that she and Jake loved to pretend was their secret hideout. In that loft, they had planned many an escapade, few of which they actually carried out. But one had become a classic, a story the whole town knew about and that grew in exaggerated glory each time it was told. It had to do with the Fourth of July celebration last summer. Kate had tried, every summer since she was seven, to catch the pig in the greased-pig contest, and so had Jake. But they never had. Lance Williams, the thinks-he’s-so-cool town brat, had caught it the last two years in a row. But they had a plan to foil him that year. Being the outlaws that they were, she and Jake spent many a summer evening planning just how they were going to steal the pig before the contest and secretly tie a nylon string to its foot and then to Jake’s belt so that when the pig was released, all Jake had to do was reel it in—with Kate’s help, of course.

Jake’s father was good friends with Mr. Potter, the farmer who always proudly donated the baby pig for the contest, so Jake had begged his dad to take him and Kate to town early that day to go visit their friends. Jake knew Mr. Potter would be first on his dad’s list. So when they got to the town park, sure enough, Jake’s dad went straight to Mr. Potter’s pig pen, where a cute little pink pig walked around nervously, suspecting some mischief was afoot.

"Well, what