Disclaimer: I do not own the 39 Clues. This is for Another Artist's "A Little is a Lot" challenge.
May 28, 2011. This is 511 words.
Amy lay down on her stomach, reading. Dan came up to Amy and stared up at her with an innocent look of curiosity on his face. "Do you remember Mommy?" he asked.
Amy set down her book and looked down at her little brother. Did she remember? Honestly, she wasn't quite sure. She frowned, thinking, when a memory came back to her.
"Sharpies and sticky-notes," she murmured.
"What?" Dan asked."Come here," Amy ordered, patting the floor. Dan for once obediently plopped down next to her. Then she began her tale.
Amy cracked the door open and snuck a peek at her mother. "Mommy?" Her soft whisper carried across the room. Hope Cahill looked up and held her arms out for Amy. She ran over and gathered herself in her mother's arms. Amy sat there for a long time, drawing comfort from her mother's embrace.
Finally she pulled away and turned to fully look at her mother, who was surrounded by- what was this? - Sharpies and sticky-notes. Little doodles of all colors, shapes and sizes covered the bright squares of sticky paper.
"Do you want to see?" her mother asked. Amy nodded. Grabbing a small pad of paper, Hope flipped through the pages. A purple ball bounced along the small stage before flying off into the distance.
"How'd you do that?" she squealed in awe.
Smiling, her mother reached for a fresh pad of sticky-notes and a Sharpie. "See," she said, drawing a circle. "The ball moves over a bit each time I draw it." She held up the second, third and fourth picture, each sliding over a bit to the right. "And so, when I flip it, the pictures look like they are moving." Again the ball flew across the square of paper before disappearing. Amy clapped her hands together in excitement.
"You want to try?" she asked, offering a purple Sharpie and neon-green pad of sticky-notes. Amy eagerly grabbed the tools and set to work making her very own masterpiece. It soon became clear that it wasn't as easy as her mother had made it seem. Suddenly Amy threw down the papers in frustration.
"It's not working!" she cried out, pouting.
"There, there," Hope soothed. "You can try again. I'll help you." Mother and daughter than began their work. Over the course of the next hour, two pairs of hands carefully crafted their homemade animation. Drawings were made, pieced together, and occasionally, discarded.
Finally, they were done. Amy proudly held up the finished work. She gingerly flipped through the pages. A rough picture of a cat that looked remarkably like Saladin chased a ragged mouse clumsily across the page. The entire thing lasted for all of ten seconds.
"Let's go show Dad!" she shouted impatiently. Amy ran out of the room to show off her creation. That was the last day she and her mother spent together.
"Sharpies and sticky-notes made up our last memory," she finished, reminiscing.
Dan grinned up at her. "Sweet," he said. The fire had taken away their parents. But memories still remained.