Prologue. Mudshovel
Spinelli sat in class, reading the pages in her history book that was meant to be homework. The school constantly ran the air conditioner, and she was freezing to death. The weather outside of the school was dark, cold and cloudy. At least there would still be recess, she thought as she looked out the window.
It was 9:55, and the five minutes left seemed to last forever. Not able to concentrate on whoever this Ferdinand Magellan was, she set the history book aside and pulled out a sheet of lined paper. Lately getting into the habit, she would usually write her favorite lyrics to songs down.
It gave her to think of something she actually liked, and it looked like she would be doing the writing segment of the homework, anyway. Spinelli began writing down the words to the song 'with you' by Linkin Park. Along the third verse, the bell rang and she took no time to fold up the paper and stick it in her jacket pocket.
Walking outside of the room, she caught up with her five friends, TJ, Vince, Gretchen, Gus and Mikey. They went outside, and the humidness of the air made her relax. "Man, I was about to die of hypothermia in there." she groaned, tilting her head back and letting what was left of the sun's rays warm her up.
TJ nodded and automatically headed for the kick ball field. "Anyway, I call team captain."
Spinelli shook off the cold feeling and called out, "I'll get the ball!"
Walking over to the cart, she knew Randall would give her a good one. She really creeped him out without her friends around to hold her back. Spinelli smiled to herself, thinking of all the times she threatened to beat him up. The smaller kid took one look at her and immediately reached for the best ball he had left and carefully gave it to her. Spinelli grinned, taking it and walking away.
She returned to the field and tossed the ball to TJ. Apparently, he still was a team captain and had already picked the team members. "Whose team am I on?"
"We have even numbers already, you don't matter!" The opposing team leader said, and she clenched her teeth. "And what do you expect me to do?"
"Sit out!" he snapped, and Spinelli took an aggravated step towards him. Gretchen walked out from TJ's team. "I'll sit out for you. After all, I did replace your spot on the team."
Knowing Gretchen was never picked for anything, she stopped. "It's okay. I wasn't feeling too good anyway."
That was partially true, because as soon as she finished her sentence a tired feeling fell over her. Gretchen thanked her and ran back to the team. Spinelli watched as they began the first kick of the game and walked elsewhere. She remembered the lyrics she was writing and pulled the paper out and found a pen in another pocket by chance. She sat down on one of the seesaws (she really did hate them and found no use for them except for sitting) and began finishing off what she wrote.
About two minutes later she wrote the last verse and re-read the words, imaging the music with it and everything. One of the things she was good at was remembering all kinds of music. Even if she absolutely hated it, she would remember every small detail, even where they were taking a breath. A small droplet of water hit her nose and she wiped it off, looking up at the gray sky. Rain began to fall in sheets, and she stuffed the paper back in her pocket, not wanting the ink to run.
Kids also scrambled for shelter, even though in less than three minutes the bell would sound. She got up and closed her eyes, breathing in the cold air. Rain always made her happy, and Spinelli smiled to herself as she began to slowly spin, not caring if other people saw her for once.
"Out of the way!"
She opened her eyes, and saw the familiar 'guards' carrying King Bob and his throne on the wooden carrier. thing. She angrily looked up at the king, and knew he couldn't have told her to move. He looked zoned out and was soaking wet. He must have hated rain. Spinelli sighed and headed on in, hearing the bell.
The rest of the day seemed distant and the bad news was her teacher was making them go to people's houses with some kind of catalog and ask them if they wanted to order anything. It was all for a school fundraiser. It was the familiar case of winning something for the most people signed up, and the familiar sense of her not caring at all. Like always though, they had to sell something.
Spinelli rubbed her arms trying to keep warm. Why do they have to do something so stupid, and it didn't even count as a grade? The catalogs were passed out, and it was a bunch of stupid stuff like cheap quality shirts, baseball hats and like always, the unappetizing-looking cookies. How could anyone want to actually buy this crap?
The class left, and she and her friends walked home. Their conversation was so far away sounding, though she was really right next to the person talking. Then she realized only fifteen minutes later she was walking home by herself. She always was the last person to get home. The rain was still continuing, and Spinelli was glad for once that she was alone.
She realized that later on she and her friends would have to get together and do the whole selling thing. She groaned to herself and eventually reached home. She went on inside her room. The walls were whitish-yellow, even though she wanted them to be painted gray. There was a huge case of CDs in one corner, and a TV on a desk. The walls were decorated with wrestlers, bands and movie posters.
She slung her backpack on the ground and stretched herself across the bed, exhaling slowly. Today was going to really suck. She could sense it. Suddenly, the phone rang and she managed to pick up the phone, even though she didn't feel like talking.
".Yeah?"
"Hey, Spinelli. All of us are getting together to do the whole selling thing. After it, we're going to the movies."
She recognized the voice belonging to TJ. "Sure. Why not?"
The phone clicked, and she knew he hung up. Sounds like he's in a hurry. She went over to her backpack and dug out the catalog. "Bye, mom! I'm going to do this selling stuff for school," she called and headed out the door, not waiting for a response.
She went over to TJ's house and went on in without knocking. Everyone was waiting for her, and they immediately left. They went to about five people's houses, and all but one didn't even bother to look through a catalog. "We have a better chance of getting more customers by splitting up." Gretchen announced as they were walking.
"Sure, as long as we can get home sooner. I'm freezing." Vince commented.
"Okay. Then let's just meet back here in twenty minutes." Gretchen said, and they all split up.
Alone once again, Spinelli walked down an unfamiliar street alone, kicking a rock. She didn't care about getting anything done on this stupid catalog. It didn't even count as a grade. She went over to a random house and knocked. An old man barely opened the door a crack and eyed her through the space.
"Excuse me, my school is selling stuff as a fundraiser and we have a catalog you can -" she began, but the door slammed shut. "Thanks a lot, buddy!" she called, walking away. She tried the house across the street but got the same response.
Doing the same thing along the road, only two out of the ten people looked and decided to buy something. They most likely took pity on her, especially the lady with about twenty cats in her front yard. Walking down the road, she heard the faint sound of music and ignored it until she arrived at the house. By now, she could tell it wasn't from a radio or CD. It wasn't anything recorded. She eventually recognized the electric guitar playing 'Mudshovel' by Staind.
Spinelli knocked on the door, preparing to be ignored again. The music stopped and someone opened the door. She raised her eyebrows. "King Bob?"
".Yeah?" he asked. This time, he wasn't wearing a crown or cape and had a guitar. He looked so different when he wasn't in school. At this part, mad barking could be heard from inside and a black greyhound came charging up from behind. King Bob used the Guitar to block it from getting out.
"Well, what?" he repeated, slightly coldly. Spinelli shook her head. "Nothing. Some stupid thing we had to do for homework. Selling for a fundraiser."
She could never bring herself to call someone 'your highness' or 'majesty.' It made him, or anyone else sound more important.
".Right." Bob flatly replied.
"You listen to Staind?" she asked, trying to talk over the sound of the mad dog growling and barking. He finally unplugged the extension cord from his guitar and amp and shut the door so he was standing outside. "Yeah. You do too or something?"
She nodded. "They're my second favorite band."
"Then who's your favorite?"
She wondered why he would even bother to waste his breath on her. "You wouldn't know him."
"So?" He shrugged. Spinelli replied, "Marilyn Manson."
"Really? You don't get all emotional over the lyrics?" Bob laughed, and she absolutely hated it when people did that.
"Why would I? Do you?" She smirked, and he stopped his laughing immediately.
"I'm the King! You shouldn't talk about me like that." He said, sticking his nose up in the spoiled-king-that-gets-whatever-he-desires manner. She grinned again. "Out of school hours, you're technically king of nothing."
It was quiet for a long time. "If I sign up for something, and then force my parents to pay, will you go away?" he folded his arms across his chest.
"Yup." She handed him the catalog and he flipped open to a random page. "All of this stuff is stupid! You know that, right?" he asked, filling something out.
"I know. I hate it when we have to do homework that doesn't even count as a grade." She said as he handed her the catalog back. "I still have to get seven other people to sign up. I'm gonna get that done."
She turned, heard the door open and immediately felt a weight push her down. She realized it was the dog, and instead of biting her to death it was attacking her by tongue. Spinelli laughed and didn't bother to push it off. "What's his name?"
King Bob managed to get the dog off of her. "Malaki." he replied and got him to calm down. Malaki watched Spinelli get up and wipe all the drool off of her cheek. "Isn't that the name of the kid in -"
"-Children of the Corn? I know."
"Do you like horror or something?" She asked and he smiled. "Yeah. You can tell because my cats name is 'Voorhees.' "
"Like Friday the 13th Jason? That's just too good. Except I'd name mine Kruegar." She said. "That way, my cat can beat up your cat like in Freddy vs. Jason."
"You saw that?" King Bob asked, sounding disgusted, trying to keep the guitar out of Malaki's slobbery reach.
Spinelli acted like she said something wrong. "I snuck in."
It was quiet. "Same here."
She raised her eyebrows. "Now, it is complete chance that we like both the same band and movies."
He shrugged, and Spinelli realized what time it was. "Oh, man! If I don't get going home now I'm gonna be back by nine. I gotta go!"
She waved and went running down the street. King Bob only stared and then looked down, seeing his guitar covered in drool and Malaki giving him a dog- grin.
Spinelli ran down the road, wondering how long her friends have been waiting. She spent at least ten minutes just talking to King Bob. Then she realized it was almost inhuman during school for a sixth grader to talk to a fourth grader. Especially when the sixth grader was the king. Her friends came into view and she ran over. "Sorry, you guys. I was talking to someone I knew and kind of stalled."
"It's okay, Spinelli." Mikey reassured her.
"AND I can't go to the movies. I didn't know it would take this long to get all of this done. I gotta get home!" She added. She really hated her parents for having an early curfew. But if she stayed up past it, they always unhooked her TV so she couldn't watch wrestling.
With a wave, she bolted down the street.
At home, she once again plopped down on the bed, tired. She only had three people sign up to buy something, other than both of her parents. Like always, she'd use this time to think about ideas for songs. Another one of her good talents was writing songs. She could make them sound as good as real music lyrics, and could write just about anything. She thought for a while, running over topics. How she likes darkness, how she is mad at some people.
Then a topic popped up in her mind, and she sat up, surprised at herself. That last thought would be as amazing as murder at school. And anyway, it broke all of the 'invisible and non-written rules' for the fourth graders. She plopped back down, realizing her thought was true and brought her hands up to her face, in a groan.
Spinelli sat in class, reading the pages in her history book that was meant to be homework. The school constantly ran the air conditioner, and she was freezing to death. The weather outside of the school was dark, cold and cloudy. At least there would still be recess, she thought as she looked out the window.
It was 9:55, and the five minutes left seemed to last forever. Not able to concentrate on whoever this Ferdinand Magellan was, she set the history book aside and pulled out a sheet of lined paper. Lately getting into the habit, she would usually write her favorite lyrics to songs down.
It gave her to think of something she actually liked, and it looked like she would be doing the writing segment of the homework, anyway. Spinelli began writing down the words to the song 'with you' by Linkin Park. Along the third verse, the bell rang and she took no time to fold up the paper and stick it in her jacket pocket.
Walking outside of the room, she caught up with her five friends, TJ, Vince, Gretchen, Gus and Mikey. They went outside, and the humidness of the air made her relax. "Man, I was about to die of hypothermia in there." she groaned, tilting her head back and letting what was left of the sun's rays warm her up.
TJ nodded and automatically headed for the kick ball field. "Anyway, I call team captain."
Spinelli shook off the cold feeling and called out, "I'll get the ball!"
Walking over to the cart, she knew Randall would give her a good one. She really creeped him out without her friends around to hold her back. Spinelli smiled to herself, thinking of all the times she threatened to beat him up. The smaller kid took one look at her and immediately reached for the best ball he had left and carefully gave it to her. Spinelli grinned, taking it and walking away.
She returned to the field and tossed the ball to TJ. Apparently, he still was a team captain and had already picked the team members. "Whose team am I on?"
"We have even numbers already, you don't matter!" The opposing team leader said, and she clenched her teeth. "And what do you expect me to do?"
"Sit out!" he snapped, and Spinelli took an aggravated step towards him. Gretchen walked out from TJ's team. "I'll sit out for you. After all, I did replace your spot on the team."
Knowing Gretchen was never picked for anything, she stopped. "It's okay. I wasn't feeling too good anyway."
That was partially true, because as soon as she finished her sentence a tired feeling fell over her. Gretchen thanked her and ran back to the team. Spinelli watched as they began the first kick of the game and walked elsewhere. She remembered the lyrics she was writing and pulled the paper out and found a pen in another pocket by chance. She sat down on one of the seesaws (she really did hate them and found no use for them except for sitting) and began finishing off what she wrote.
About two minutes later she wrote the last verse and re-read the words, imaging the music with it and everything. One of the things she was good at was remembering all kinds of music. Even if she absolutely hated it, she would remember every small detail, even where they were taking a breath. A small droplet of water hit her nose and she wiped it off, looking up at the gray sky. Rain began to fall in sheets, and she stuffed the paper back in her pocket, not wanting the ink to run.
Kids also scrambled for shelter, even though in less than three minutes the bell would sound. She got up and closed her eyes, breathing in the cold air. Rain always made her happy, and Spinelli smiled to herself as she began to slowly spin, not caring if other people saw her for once.
"Out of the way!"
She opened her eyes, and saw the familiar 'guards' carrying King Bob and his throne on the wooden carrier. thing. She angrily looked up at the king, and knew he couldn't have told her to move. He looked zoned out and was soaking wet. He must have hated rain. Spinelli sighed and headed on in, hearing the bell.
The rest of the day seemed distant and the bad news was her teacher was making them go to people's houses with some kind of catalog and ask them if they wanted to order anything. It was all for a school fundraiser. It was the familiar case of winning something for the most people signed up, and the familiar sense of her not caring at all. Like always though, they had to sell something.
Spinelli rubbed her arms trying to keep warm. Why do they have to do something so stupid, and it didn't even count as a grade? The catalogs were passed out, and it was a bunch of stupid stuff like cheap quality shirts, baseball hats and like always, the unappetizing-looking cookies. How could anyone want to actually buy this crap?
The class left, and she and her friends walked home. Their conversation was so far away sounding, though she was really right next to the person talking. Then she realized only fifteen minutes later she was walking home by herself. She always was the last person to get home. The rain was still continuing, and Spinelli was glad for once that she was alone.
She realized that later on she and her friends would have to get together and do the whole selling thing. She groaned to herself and eventually reached home. She went on inside her room. The walls were whitish-yellow, even though she wanted them to be painted gray. There was a huge case of CDs in one corner, and a TV on a desk. The walls were decorated with wrestlers, bands and movie posters.
She slung her backpack on the ground and stretched herself across the bed, exhaling slowly. Today was going to really suck. She could sense it. Suddenly, the phone rang and she managed to pick up the phone, even though she didn't feel like talking.
".Yeah?"
"Hey, Spinelli. All of us are getting together to do the whole selling thing. After it, we're going to the movies."
She recognized the voice belonging to TJ. "Sure. Why not?"
The phone clicked, and she knew he hung up. Sounds like he's in a hurry. She went over to her backpack and dug out the catalog. "Bye, mom! I'm going to do this selling stuff for school," she called and headed out the door, not waiting for a response.
She went over to TJ's house and went on in without knocking. Everyone was waiting for her, and they immediately left. They went to about five people's houses, and all but one didn't even bother to look through a catalog. "We have a better chance of getting more customers by splitting up." Gretchen announced as they were walking.
"Sure, as long as we can get home sooner. I'm freezing." Vince commented.
"Okay. Then let's just meet back here in twenty minutes." Gretchen said, and they all split up.
Alone once again, Spinelli walked down an unfamiliar street alone, kicking a rock. She didn't care about getting anything done on this stupid catalog. It didn't even count as a grade. She went over to a random house and knocked. An old man barely opened the door a crack and eyed her through the space.
"Excuse me, my school is selling stuff as a fundraiser and we have a catalog you can -" she began, but the door slammed shut. "Thanks a lot, buddy!" she called, walking away. She tried the house across the street but got the same response.
Doing the same thing along the road, only two out of the ten people looked and decided to buy something. They most likely took pity on her, especially the lady with about twenty cats in her front yard. Walking down the road, she heard the faint sound of music and ignored it until she arrived at the house. By now, she could tell it wasn't from a radio or CD. It wasn't anything recorded. She eventually recognized the electric guitar playing 'Mudshovel' by Staind.
Spinelli knocked on the door, preparing to be ignored again. The music stopped and someone opened the door. She raised her eyebrows. "King Bob?"
".Yeah?" he asked. This time, he wasn't wearing a crown or cape and had a guitar. He looked so different when he wasn't in school. At this part, mad barking could be heard from inside and a black greyhound came charging up from behind. King Bob used the Guitar to block it from getting out.
"Well, what?" he repeated, slightly coldly. Spinelli shook her head. "Nothing. Some stupid thing we had to do for homework. Selling for a fundraiser."
She could never bring herself to call someone 'your highness' or 'majesty.' It made him, or anyone else sound more important.
".Right." Bob flatly replied.
"You listen to Staind?" she asked, trying to talk over the sound of the mad dog growling and barking. He finally unplugged the extension cord from his guitar and amp and shut the door so he was standing outside. "Yeah. You do too or something?"
She nodded. "They're my second favorite band."
"Then who's your favorite?"
She wondered why he would even bother to waste his breath on her. "You wouldn't know him."
"So?" He shrugged. Spinelli replied, "Marilyn Manson."
"Really? You don't get all emotional over the lyrics?" Bob laughed, and she absolutely hated it when people did that.
"Why would I? Do you?" She smirked, and he stopped his laughing immediately.
"I'm the King! You shouldn't talk about me like that." He said, sticking his nose up in the spoiled-king-that-gets-whatever-he-desires manner. She grinned again. "Out of school hours, you're technically king of nothing."
It was quiet for a long time. "If I sign up for something, and then force my parents to pay, will you go away?" he folded his arms across his chest.
"Yup." She handed him the catalog and he flipped open to a random page. "All of this stuff is stupid! You know that, right?" he asked, filling something out.
"I know. I hate it when we have to do homework that doesn't even count as a grade." She said as he handed her the catalog back. "I still have to get seven other people to sign up. I'm gonna get that done."
She turned, heard the door open and immediately felt a weight push her down. She realized it was the dog, and instead of biting her to death it was attacking her by tongue. Spinelli laughed and didn't bother to push it off. "What's his name?"
King Bob managed to get the dog off of her. "Malaki." he replied and got him to calm down. Malaki watched Spinelli get up and wipe all the drool off of her cheek. "Isn't that the name of the kid in -"
"-Children of the Corn? I know."
"Do you like horror or something?" She asked and he smiled. "Yeah. You can tell because my cats name is 'Voorhees.' "
"Like Friday the 13th Jason? That's just too good. Except I'd name mine Kruegar." She said. "That way, my cat can beat up your cat like in Freddy vs. Jason."
"You saw that?" King Bob asked, sounding disgusted, trying to keep the guitar out of Malaki's slobbery reach.
Spinelli acted like she said something wrong. "I snuck in."
It was quiet. "Same here."
She raised her eyebrows. "Now, it is complete chance that we like both the same band and movies."
He shrugged, and Spinelli realized what time it was. "Oh, man! If I don't get going home now I'm gonna be back by nine. I gotta go!"
She waved and went running down the street. King Bob only stared and then looked down, seeing his guitar covered in drool and Malaki giving him a dog- grin.
Spinelli ran down the road, wondering how long her friends have been waiting. She spent at least ten minutes just talking to King Bob. Then she realized it was almost inhuman during school for a sixth grader to talk to a fourth grader. Especially when the sixth grader was the king. Her friends came into view and she ran over. "Sorry, you guys. I was talking to someone I knew and kind of stalled."
"It's okay, Spinelli." Mikey reassured her.
"AND I can't go to the movies. I didn't know it would take this long to get all of this done. I gotta get home!" She added. She really hated her parents for having an early curfew. But if she stayed up past it, they always unhooked her TV so she couldn't watch wrestling.
With a wave, she bolted down the street.
At home, she once again plopped down on the bed, tired. She only had three people sign up to buy something, other than both of her parents. Like always, she'd use this time to think about ideas for songs. Another one of her good talents was writing songs. She could make them sound as good as real music lyrics, and could write just about anything. She thought for a while, running over topics. How she likes darkness, how she is mad at some people.
Then a topic popped up in her mind, and she sat up, surprised at herself. That last thought would be as amazing as murder at school. And anyway, it broke all of the 'invisible and non-written rules' for the fourth graders. She plopped back down, realizing her thought was true and brought her hands up to her face, in a groan.