Amazing but True - Africa Adventure Book 1



  Amazing but True - Africa Adventure

  Laura K Marshall

  Copyright 2012 Laura K Marshall / Wooden Tulip Press

  Cover Art by Gertfrik / Stock Free Images & Dreamtime

  Chapter 1

  Clara began the long climb up the narrow attic stairs. She held her breath as she ascended the creaking steps, hoping no one would hear her. The dying light of the afternoon sun shone through the small window at the top of the staircase.

  “Clara, what are you doing?” her grandma called from the second floor.

  Clara cringed, stopping in place. She was caught for sure. “I’m reading, Grammie.” She stood frozen, holding the rail tight, as if that would help the situation.

  “Okay, dear. I’ll be in the kitchen having tea with Mrs. Treadworth.”

  “Okay, Grammie.” She let out a sigh of relief. Clara didn’t want to get caught poking around the attic. Grammie hadn’t told her not to, but she never wanted her up there alone. Clara turned the handle slowly to not make a sound. The wood cracked and popped as she pushed it open. She stopped to listen for Grammie, but heard nothing. Creeping into the attic, she closed the door lightly behind her.

  “Let’s see if I can find that old chest Grammie was talking about.”

  Clara had overheard her grandmother’s conversation with Mrs. Treadworth about a huge trunk with old clothes and other treasures in the attic. Clara fumbled in her sweater pocket for the flashlight. The pea-size beam wasn’t enough to cut through the blackness, and the small attic window didn’t help much. Her heart raced at the prospect of being caught, but adrenaline overpowered her fear. Groping through the shadows, she tripped over the chest.

  “Oh, here you are. Now let’s see if I can get you open.”

  Clara put down her flashlight and slid her fingers along the side of the chest until she found a finger hold. “You haven’t been opened in a very long time, have you?” The chest creaked and moaned as she struggled to lift the heavy lid.

  “Shush, Grammie will hear you, and I don’t think I want to get into trouble today.” She gave the chest a stern look in the gloom, “What wonderful things are you holding?”

  Carefully she reached in and felt cool, smooth silk.

  “Oh my,” said Clara, letting out a large breath.

  She went through the chest very slowly, admiring every magnificent gown as best she could in the dying light. She discovered stunning hats and other little trinkets from China and other places she couldn’t believe Grammie had been. Clara ran her hands over one of the gowns still in the trunk and felt something hard. Moving the satin folds out of the way, she found a beautiful leather bound book.

  “Well, hello. Who might you be?” She held the book up to catch the stray light in the attic. “The Amazing but True Journalings of Persephone Thwarp.”

  Clara flipped through it, reading descriptions of far away lands and adventures that happened long ago with knights and pirates in strange and wonderful places. She picked up a pressed flower from between two pages. It was so thin and light that any small movement could render it to dust.

  “Why would anyone want to keep this?” Clara asked, placing it back where it had been.

  As Clara scanned through the journal something sparkled. She turned back quickly. In the middle of a page something had been written, but only the glisten of gold remained.

  “Now what did that say?” she asked, running her fingers over it. Still puzzled, Clara closed the book and traced the words on its cover, “Who is Persephone Thwarp?”

  “I am,” said a voice from behind her.

  Clara spun around on her knees and fell backward to the floor, dropping the journal. She was afraid to look up. Someone crossed the attic and picked up the book. Clara took a deep breath and swallowed hard. She slowly raised her eyes until she was looking at the shadowy figure that stood before her.

  “I was wondering when you were going to find this,” said Clara’s Grandma from the darkness, the small flashlight illuminating her feet.

  “Grammie, you’re Persephone?”

  “Yes, a long time ago,” Grammie said, taking a deep breath as if savoring a moment.

  “You’ve got one over-active imagination to come up with all of that stuff.”

  “Oh no, I did everything I wrote in this book.”

  “How is that possible? Some of these things happened hundreds of years ago, and I know you’re not that old.”

  “Well, thank you for that. I had the assistance of the most dashing man I have ever seen. Captain Melvin Claudius Flump. We would go on the most exciting adventures. Such a gentleman. He treated me like a princess. Oh, I miss those days.” She sighed, staring at something only she could see in the darkness.

  “Wait, back up a minute. Where did you meet this Captain?”

  Grammie reflected for a moment, “My brothers and I found an old captain’s journal in our attic. It was tucked away behind a bookcase. Not shoved or fallen, but placed there. I always thought that maybe my grandfather had put the book there. He so loved the sea. The boys thought it was interesting for about two seconds. They weren’t much into reading, and an old dusty book held no appeal for them. They were off like a shot, looking for some trouble to get into. But, I sat down and read. The book fascinated me. Why had it been so carefully hidden? What secrets were held inside? I wanted to find out. I couldn’t get enough. I did nothing but read for days. Captain Melvin Claudius Flump was quite the adventurer. I could imagine going on one of the quests he described. As I read through the journal, one of the pages felt thicker than the rest. I examined the page and found a map cleverly folded and inserted into the book. It was meticulously drawn and an incantation was hiding in one of the corners concealed inside a…..” Grammie trailed off, looking into the darkness again.

  “What’s wrong, Grammie?” asked Clara.

  “Oh, nothing, I haven’t said the words or seen the Captain in such a long time.” Straightening and clearing her throat, she said “I think we’re done with stories for now.”

  “But I …”

  “Later. It’s time for tea. Mrs. Treadworth is waiting. Off you go.”

  Grammie placed the journal on top of the chest and shuffled Clara out of the attic.

  “What secrets indeed?” muttered Clara under her breath. “I am going to find you out.”