Gobbledy
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About this ebook
Ever since Dexter and Dougal’s mom passed away, life has been different—but things take a whole new turn when a shooting star turns out to be a creature from outer space! Gobbledy is a fun-filled holiday story that adds up to two brothers, three friends, unlimited jars of peanut butter, a ketchup factory, and one little alien far, far from home.
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Gobbledy - Lis Anna-Langston
Gobbledy
Lis Anna-Langston
image-placeholderMapleton Press
This book is complete fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are strictly fictitious.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles, or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.
Although author and publisher have made every effort to ensure the information in this book was correct at press time, the author and publisher do not assume and hereby disclaim any liability to any party for any loss, damage, or disruption caused by errors or omissions, whether such errors or omissions result from negligence, accident, or any other cause. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.
Gobbledy
Lis Anna-Langston www.lisannalangston.com
Copyright ©2023 Lis Anna-Langston – All Rights Reserved
Cover Design by Pixel Studios
Cover Art by Rich Powell
Mapleton Press
Second Edition
South Carolina
ISBN: 978-1-957730-04-2
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Catalog Number: 2023908737
Copyright ©2023
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
for Mark
& the amazing little A
image-placeholderPraise for Gobbledy
Hugely entertaining as well as emotionally moving.
―Kirkus Reviews
This charming alien-in-the-attic story boasts engaging characters, witty storytelling, and a furry little beast that will eat anything, all wrapped up in a warm holiday package.
―Booklife
"A delightfully entertaining novel by an author with a genuine flair for originality… ―Midwest Book Review
This novel’s generous heart won me over from the get-go.
―John Gregory Brown, acclaimed author of A Thousand Miles from Nowhere
" The Wonder Years meets A Christmas Story meets E.T. in this magical novel… ― Cathy Smith Bowers, Former Poet Laureate of NC
image-placeholderAlso By
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image-placeholderimage-placeholderChapter one
Tiny dots of stars and planets form constellations above my head. Orion. The bear. The great hunter. I’m only eleven, but I know a lot about the stars. It’s where my mom lives now. I come out on cool, clear evenings through the broken window in the attic to lie on the roof and listen for the sound of her voice.
Dexter?
A voice whispers to the left of my head.
I look over. My little brother Dougal leans out of the window, looking first at me, then up into the sparkling sky. Aren’t you cold?
I shrug, feeling the scratchy shingles beneath my jacket. I like it out here.
Dougal swings a leg through the window. Where I’m lying is the flattest part of the roof. On either side it swoops up so steep that even I won’t climb it. Dougal stops in the windowsill, letting his legs dangle. His big personality makes it easy for me to forget that he’s only eight years old. Eight and a half, he’ll point out. Still, even for someone almost nine, he looks tiny in the window with the glow of light from the attic.
When Mom was here, she spent hours in the attic, building a small replica of the town where we live. She didn’t grow up here. She said she picked this small town in Pennsylvania because, to her, it was the most magical place on Earth. Mom had answers for everything. Maybe that’s why I spend so much time on the roof, hoping to see a sign that she’s listening.
The Cricket Colony had been Mom’s idea. Since me and my best friend, Fiona, spend so much time in the forest near our house, she’d suggested I make adventure a part of my grade. Tomorrow I turn in the crickets for my end-of-the-semester science project. Then I have to turn them loose back in the forest, where they’ll make homes under thick beds of leaves to stay warm. But I’ll miss them a lot.
Dougal shivers. Dad was weird tonight.
I nod. Dad’s been weird every night for a few months now.
Stars sparkle in the dark sky. We all want her back, even if we don’t talk about it. Instead, we talk about far-off galaxies.
My little brother points to the sky. There’s Andromeda.
It was Mom’s favorite, because you can see it just by lying on a roof at the end of autumn. Mom said things like, I believe that’s a globular cluster,
and Stars are old.
She said that when stars die, they sometimes leave a black hole behind to remind everyone they were alive once. There is definitely a hole in our family. Not a bad hole, but a big hole. The kind of hole that sneaks up on me late at night when I remember. So, sometimes, I climb out here to forget.
My walkie-talkie crackles to life on the flat space next to me. Gamma Ray to Cosmic. Come in, Cosmic.
Dougal leans forward, trying to get a look at the Little Dipper.
I press the button. Cosmic here.
Whew. I thought you’d slipped into another dimension.
Hardly. I’m up on the roof.
Fi is quiet a second; then she says, Any signs yet?
Nope. But sometimes these things take a while.
Speaking of taking a while, I gotta wake up super early to finish my project, so I gotta get some sleep.
Got a title yet?
She laughs. Nope.
A second passes. Tell Dougal I said goodnight, and I’ll be out back in the morning.
Dougal softly yells, Goodnight,
over my shoulder and pushes off to go inside.
Someday I want to be able to sleep under the stars without having to worry about rolling off the roof. Mom said space is full of magic, but there isn’t much magic since she left. I guess that’s just how it is sometimes. I stand up, stretching.
I’m ready for adventure. Except it’s late, and Dad hates it when I wake him up, going up and down the stairs.
I climb back through the window and look at the attic. An old sofa with a stack of books on building miniatures; a work table with the village on top; Mom’s favorite blanket; a cart full of brushes, glue, and a few big jars like the one I used to make my Cricket Colony.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash and turn. There, blazing its way across the dark, is the most incredible falling star I’ve ever seen. It’s so close, I swear I can hear the sizzle. I know it’s a sign. I squeeze my eyes shut and make a wish.
image-placeholderChapter two
Wooden boards rattle under our feet as we run across the bridge leading into the forest.
My lungs burn trying to catch up. What are we doing?
Fi is so far ahead she has to yell, glancing back over her shoulder, Remember those cameras I set up for my science project?
Yeah?
I heave, about to collapse.
Well, you’re gonna want to see this,
she says, before making an abrupt turn into my favorite cluster of pine trees.
I hear her purple cowboy boots pounding the dirt but can’t see her anymore. I slow to a stop, bending over to catch my breath. My watch says it’s been exactly eight and a half minutes since Fiona burst through my back door and interrupted my bowl of cereal. I look around.
"Dexter!" Fi yells, loud and clear, up ahead.
I roll my eyes, push myself upright, and try to run. It’s more like stumbling, but it works. I run past the fallen oak, under the low-hanging limbs of a maple, around the corner into the clearing, and slow to a stop. It’s the place we always come. Fi pulls her backpack off, pointing to the ground a few feet away. Tiny, cream-colored mushrooms sparkle in the dim morning sun. Light floats up, like fizz on soda. The mushrooms grow in circles, but as I kneel down, I see they aren’t really mushrooms. They are like really strange, tiny trees. Inside one of the circles is a flat, golden rock.
Whoa,
I say, leaning closer. What are these?
Fi shakes her head. I have no idea.
Did you look these things up? I’ve never seen anything like this out here before.
I didn’t have time. I got up early to finish my project and saw this on the footage. Then I ran next door to your house.
I crouch down, touching the ground.
You know how we set the sensors to send me a notification if the cameras turned on? Well, they turned on in the middle of the night. I got the email when I woke up. Just in case there was some last-minute thing I could add to my project today, I ran through the footage. It was like the cameras burst into flames, and then it went all staticky, and when the picture came back on, I saw these mushrooms.
Fi frowns. But only a few of my cameras were still working.
Wait a minute. You’re telling me these things grew in a few minutes?
Fi fills her cheeks with air and raises an eyebrow like she does when she really doesn’t believe the facts. It appears so.
I reach out to touch a mushroom thingy and it shocks me. I pull my finger back immediately. A tiny, red dot swells on the tip.
What’s wrong?
It shocked me!
Fi scrunches up her nose, "What? She hovers over them like a buzzard.
It shocked you? How? There’s no such thing as electric mushrooms. Carefully she reaches down to touch the top of a mushroom and pulls her hand back.
Ouch! Fi looks at me and then the mushroom.
I hope that’s not poisonous."
We exchange a look. Electric, glittery, mushroom thingies. Suddenly, my cereal getting soggy is not my top priority. Fi stands and walks to a small camera rigged to a tree trunk. Even from a distance, I can tell it’s smoked.
Fi crouches down next to the camera, and I watch. She’s wearing her favorite purple cowboy boots and her cat-ear headband. She’s been my best friend since second grade, when her family moved in next to mine, and her cat, Sir Shreds-A-Lot, dug up Mom’s flower bed. Some kids in my class think it’s weird that a girl is my best friend, but anyone who knows Fi knows that isn’t weird at all. She’s pretty much the coolest kid in fifth grade. Her dad has all kinds of crazy camera stuff in their house, and he lets her use it, which is beyond awesome, since my dad says I’m not responsible enough to own a hamster, much less a camera. Fi and I have been recording chipmunks and squirrels gathering nuts for weeks now for her project. Which is due. In about forty-five minutes.
Dexter?
I jerk my head up and see Fi standing with her hands on her hips. I’m going down to the river. Something happened out here for sure.
As soon as she rounds the path down to the river, I reach for the golden rock. I have to be careful not to touch any mushrooms. I shock myself twice before I get a firm grip on the shimmering, golden rock. I’m collecting clues.
Fiona pops her head around a tree and points to a charred path of dirt. I heard a noise last night. I thought I was dreaming.
I inspect the burnt tree logs and shimmering mushroom thingies as I slip the rock in my pocket, hoping it doesn’t shock me. I did, too.
Fi digs around in her backpack and pulls out a small camera. The kind you see in spy movies.
Isn’t your dad going to miss all this stuff?
"It’s old surveillance stuff from an embassy he worked at. He just shoves it all in the basement. Daddy is a pack