Chapter 1: I Get Mail
Oh, ok. I get it. The title of this chapter is a little off-putting. I know, who wants to read about me, Charlotte Claire Eaves, getting mail? But trust me. This story gets better.
Anyways, it all starts on a humid August morning in my own hometown of Sunflower, North Dakota. I was sitting on the porch swing, wishing firstly that it wasn't quite so hot, and secondly that my older sister Karen would hurry up and come home with the ice she'd promised to get. As a slender, dark-skinned, brown-haired girl of twelve, I was being extremely tan (some may call it burnt) and hoping that maybe something exciting would pop up in my driveway.
"Charlie!" called my mom from out the window. (Everyone calls me Charlie except my teacher, who insists on calling me Charlotte Claire. But that's a different story.) "Yes?" I call back, hoping that maybe she'll tell me I can go to the ice cream place. But no.
"Charlie, is the mail here yet? I have a very important letter coming from my boss."
"Nope, not yet."
Soon, the mail truck came sloping around the block and arrived at my house. The truck looked clunky every day, but today, it appeared shrunken and concaved, and the aged mailman who stepped out was the same.
"Mail's here," he said with a wheeze and a groan, like he was saying, I hate my job. He slid it into our mailbox, and slunk into his truck and drove away. I got the mail and brought it inside. As I rifled through the letters, I found a small package that I was sure hadn't been there before. And it was addressed to me.