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The Featured Author section is written by Scott. My story is about entitled Hoot 2: Not Again. It is about a company that is setting up a factory on the ocean. If they build the factory there is could harm all kinds of fish. follow the Hoot story as it one again takes a leap and a bound toward saving wildlife. Follow alongside Mullet Fingers, roy Eberhardt, and Beatrice Leep as they set off an another wildlife saving mission.
This story is for entertainment only. "Hoot", it characters, and etc. are the property of Walden Media. Please do not copy any of this story either in part or whole without the express permission of the webmaster. Enjoy!
It was a cold, foggy winters morning in the town of Coconut Cove. The time was four a.m. The sun had barely risen. No one was out of bed yet. Well. . .almost no one. Over at the oval track near Trace Middle School, a teenage boy was running laps around it. This was no ordinary boy. For starters, he was wearing nothing on his feet. Perhaps this was common among the teens in Coconut Cove during the summer, but certainly not during late November. Secondly, the boy was also dressed in shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. Most kids in Coconut Cove went out in sweaters and jeans during the winter. But not this boy.
Everyday since March, this boy had come to the track and run thirty laps every morning. However he would often change the number of laps depending on his mood. On this particular morning, he was feeling energetic. He figured an even hundred would do him some good.
Keeping count was the boy’s stepsister, who was dressed in a heavy jacket, sweat-pants and winter boots. In one hand was a stop watch and in the other was a mug of hot chocolate. She counted eighty-nine as the boy passed he again. She wasn’t delighted about her stepbrother showing up at her home at three-thirty every morning, but he’d been trying to get in better shape ever since a nasty run-in with a dog about a year before.
Another unique thing about this boy was that he did not live at home. His mother had shipped him off to juvenile detention a year ago and he’d broken out and gone into hiding. Where he lived was known only by he and his stepsister.
He had barely broken a sweat as he finished his ninety-second lap. A few minutes later his stepsister called for him to stop as he reached one hundred. His time was thirty-two minutes, eight seconds. He looked a little disappointed at this news. He’d been hoping to break his previous record.
He was still panting as he walked his stepsister home. When they got there she told him to be careful and went back inside; as she always did. He watched her to the door then turned and hurried off down the street. The sun was almost completely up now. Cars began to fill the streets. The boy scowled. Coconut Cove was so beautiful in the morning. Once cars began filling up the streets it just ruined it. They caused so much pollution. He hated them. However, he’d learned when he was younger that he couldn’t win a fight against cars, though he still wished people would open their eyes to what they were doing to the environment.
Some people stared at him as he jogged down the busy sidewalk. He’d been worried at first that the people recognized him as the boy that broke out of juvie, but his stepsister reminded him that they hadn’t bothered announcing his escape on the news and that it was probably just because he was jogging around barefoot in the winter. He was used to getting stared at now. Some people would give him dirty looks, some ignored him and some even waved after recognizing him as the boy who saved the owls.
A year ago, he, his stepsister and her friend Roy had stood up to a pancake company called Mother Paula’s and saved a family of burrowing owls from being killed during the construction of one of their buildings.
He snuck up to the produce store, which had a stand full of apples outside it. He ran by quickly and grabbed an apple. Breakfast. He ran to the harbor and sat down on the wharf with his feet soaking in the icy water. To him, the water wasn’t very cold. His body was used to the frigid temperatures during the winter. This was his third winter as a runaway and nothing could be worse than the blizzard last year.
Last December, snow had begun plummeting from the sky. It had gotten so cold that his feet had gone numb. He’d ended up sneaking into people’s basements and sleeping there during the nights. Amazingly, he’d never gotten caught.
By the time he’d finished his apple the sun was finally up and he decided to head back to his home before the students from Trace Middle began walking to school. He didn’t have any desire to be seen by them. He hurried to the junkyard, but instead of going into one of the old vehicles there he continued into the forest behind it. He walked for a while until he came to an old R.V. It had no wheels and was pretty much merged with the ground. With a little help from his stepsister he’d made it fit for living. He went inside and collapsed on the bed. He was exhausted. He lay on his back and looked around at everything he and his stepsister had put up to decorate the R.V. In a frame on the wall was a newspaper clipping of him, his stepsister and her friend standing hand in hand with Mother Paula to save the burrowing owls from being buried. Likely one of the happiest days of his life.
Another clipping was a very small article about his escape from juvie. It didn’t even say they wanted him back. Likely because Lonna, his mother, couldn’t be bothered to pay to have a search party go out and look for him.
He smiled to himself as he visited his memories. He drifted off to sleep and woke up a few hours later to hear a voice calling to him. He peered out the window. It was his stepsister’s friend, Roy Eberhardt. He was looking up at the R.V.
“Napoleon? Napoleon Bridger Leep are you in there?” He called.
The barefoot boy’s heart sank as he lay back down on the bed and ignored Roy. He wanted to see him, badly, but couldn’t. Roy’s father was with the Department of Justice. He didn’t know what that was but he was pretty sure it had something to do with arresting criminals.
Or juvenile delinquents. He mused.
A few minutes later, Roy gave up calling for his friend and left. The boy felt guilty as he watched Roy walk sadly off through the trees. Roy had done so much for him. But he knew it was for his own good. And he also knew that Roy would feel a lot worse if he got the boy arrested. He lay down yet again and drifted back sleep.
The barefoot boy’s stepsister, Beatrice Leep, had a rather interesting day at school. It happened during lunch hour. She been walking through the cafeteria with her lunch when she heard some grade eight girls talking to each other.
“Well I heard he runs a hundred laps around the track every morning in his bare feet!” One of them said as a matter of factly.
“That’s nothing, I heard he never wears shoes, even when he isn’t running track.”
“I heard he doesn’t have a home.” Said another.
All the girls did a sad “awe”. “How could someone like him not have a home? He’s dreamy.” Said the first girl.
Beatrice thought she was going to puke.
“Well I saw him.” Said one “I fell off my bike and almost got hit by a car but then came out of nowhere and saved me.”
“No he didn’t, Lily, that was Sheldon Stiffly, Amy saw it.”
“I heard he has to steal his food.” Said another girl.
“That’s so sad. Hey, I know, after school, let’s go make some cookies and put them somewhere that he might find them!” Said the girl named Lily.
“Great idea! Maybe we can convince him to come and live with one of us too!” Said the first.
Beatrice rolled her eyes. He’d never even set foot in Trace and already he was the most popular guy among the girls. Suddenly, the bell rang and she hurried off to class.
Roy Eberhardt sat at the dinner table eating silently.
“Not hungry tonight, son?” His father asked over the newspaper.
“I guess.” Said Roy dully.
The truth was, he’d truly believe he was going to see Beatrice’s stepbrother again today. Garret had told him that a kid in his English class knew the sister of one of the girls on Beatrice’s soccer team, who said she saw a barefoot, nut brown skin, blond boy going into and old R.V. in the woods near the junkyard. He’d let himself get his hopes up.
“You aren’t being bothered by bullies again are you, honey? We don’t want another Dana Matherson incident.” Said his mother.
“No, I’m just a little tired.” Roy lied.
“Hm, then straight upstairs to do your homework after dinner so you can go to sleep early.” Said Mrs. Eberhardt.
“Okay.” Said Roy, who figured he could do with a nice sleep.
He finished his dinner quickly then went and flew through his homework. After that, he got into bed. He couldn’t sleep however. His mind was still wrapped around Beatrice’s stepbrother. Was he alright?
Of course he was, otherwise Beatrice would probably be asking me for help. Roy answered himself.
It wasn’t until about three-thirty in the morning that Roy finally fell asleep.
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