This week I decided to revisit another of my first stories, tweaking it a bit, but mostly letting it shine for itself... This was a school assignment as well as a fun project, and it's the first time I ever combined my love of history with my love of writing. I would even stretch to saying that this book is part of what brought me where I am now in regards to my writing.
A quick reminder; these stories are likely to vary greatly, so if you have younger readers with you, you may want to screen the posts before sharing. I won't write anything kinky, I'm really not that type... But I may write slightly insense stories from time to time, or I may simply have some content that you don't want to get into with your kids right now... I will try to include a "common sense rating" for my stories every week though.
This story was written by me when I was a child and is meant for children; though there is an intense moment or two, you should be fine reading this to almost any age of kid.
This week's story is called Nice Mice and is about Amelia Earhart.
“Hello, I’m Squeaky the mouse and this is my story.”
“Hey!” Oh yes, and Fuzzy’s as well.
“Mrow, Mrow!”
“Okay, okay, I’m here!” It was about 7:30 and my friend Fuzzy the barn cat had come over for a visit, just like he did every night. At that time I lived in a hole in Amelia Earhart and her husband, George Putnam’s house, in a hole in their bedroom wall.
“How are you doing Fuzzy?” I asked.
“Fine. How about you Squeaky?”
“I’m okay... but Amelia hasn’t been spilling a lot lately.”
Oh, I’m sorry… You see I had chewed a small hole in her dining room table; this was for little bits of cheese or bread that she spilled. And I kept a thimble under one of the dripping pipes under her bathroom sink for water.
“Mrs. Cow won’t let me have as much milk anymore either.” Fuzzy replied with a sigh.
“Oh well, I guess neither of us is getting as much food as normal, lately,” I commented.
Fuzzy’s huge brown ear twitched as a fly buzzed by his long whiskers.
“Can we go to the barn yet?” I asked impatiently. I was going to see his barn for the first time!
Fuzzy nodded, humoredly, and we set off. I squeezed underneath the door as Fuzzy leaped out of the window which he had entered from. I then climbed on his back, so that we could reach the barn before the sun rose. After a short walk through a field of cows, we were almost there.
We almost ran into a large chicken coop full of noisy chickens. But Fuzzy leaped over the top of it, as I screamed in terror; I wasn’t used to being that high in the air!
Then we were at the barn. The red and purple barn seemed gigantic to a little mouse like me, and there was hay everywhere. It smelled good and sweet, and it made me feel sleepy.
“Hello Mrs. Cow,” Fuzzy commented to a tired, kind-looking brown cow, who was staring at a mountain of hay, with a goat standing on top of it.
“Hello Fuzzy. What do you think the goat is doing up there?” Mrs. Cow asked with a large, hay-scented yawn.
“I think it’s a mountain goat!” Fuzzy replied eagerly, before adding, in a calmer tone, “Mrs. Cow, this is my friend, Squeaky the mouse. And Squeaky this is Mrs. Cow. She gives me all of my milk.”
Mrs. Cow bent her long neck down to look at me with one of her gigantic sleepy eyes, and commented,
“Hello Squeaky, what do YOU think the goat is doing up there?” I thought for a moment before replying,
“I don’t know, but why are you so sleepy?”
“Every time I’m about to go to sleep, this goat bleats at me.” Mrs. Cow replied, in a tired, slightly annoyed tone.
After a short, but fun visit I said good-bye to Mrs. Cow, and Fuzzy brought me back home.
When I got home, Amelia was sitting at her desk, noisily making another dress.
You see, Amelia was BOTH a dressmaker AND a pilot!
I said good night to Fuzzy and headed to bed and tried to fall asleep through all the racket she was making with her big cast iron sewing machine.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up to hear her talking about circling the Equator in her plane; the Electra. I listened closely to hear what this “Equator” was and soon learned that it was the funny red dotted line running around the middle of the globe on her desk. Suddenly I knew just what I had to do. I was going to be the first mouse to fly! I was going with Amelia on her plane to see this giant belt.
I packed up all of the stuff I thought I would need into two little dollhouse suitcases which I had found under the floorboards a long time before. I put my spare cheese and bread and an acorn-cup of water into one of them, and some blankets and my pillow into the other one.
The next morning before setting off I said my good-byes to Fuzzy and Mrs. Cow. Fuzzy said that he wanted to go with me if it was possible. And I told him that I thought Amelia was bringing a small bag and that maybe he could hide in the back of the plane with her bag and me, and we decided that was as good a plan as we could hope to come up with.
So Fuzzy hopped up into the back of the plane while nobody was looking, just after Amelia had put her bag in, while I held onto his collar.
We whispered about how soon we would be as high as the birds. And sure enough, very shortly afterward, we were in the air. And I was shaking so hard that I could hear my water sloshing inside my bag. After many hours of staring at the birds, we fell asleep to the rocking of the plane.
After a couple of months passed in this way, we learned that we couldn’t really SEE the Equator after all. I awoke to hear Amelia talking to her navigator; Fred Noonan about running out of fuel. I shook Fuzzy awake to tell him the news.
Fuzzy almost exposed our hiding place with his shriek of horror at the mere thought of going down in a whole ocean of water! Fuzzy said that we had to at least try to save the plane. So we looked around to see if there was anything that we could do to help.
I saw a small, red gas can behind the luggage and knew what we had to do. I quickly told Fuzzy my plan- I would remove the top of the gas can, and Fuzzy would open the window, and then he would tip the gas can so that the fuel would spill into the tank.
I started to remove the cap but it was very hard because it was pushed on very, very tightly but I managed to get it off just as the engine started to rumble and the plane began to rock. but Fuzzy had to open the window which was also very hard to do; and even after the window was opened, the hardest part had only just come.
Fuzzy dangled from the window by his tail as I inched the gas can slowly forwards. I heard a yelp from the window.
“My tail hurts!” Fuzzy cried out to me.
“I know, hold on just a little longer.” I cried back.
The gas cap is unscrewed. I’m coming back in now.” Fuzzy said, falling with a thump on the floor of the plane.
“Hurry up Fuzzy! We need to pour the gas into the gas tank!” I screamed as the plane sputtered and shook.
“Okay, okay I’m up here again. You stand in the windowsill and I’ll pour. You tell me left or right okay?” Fuzzy wheezed.
“Yes! Sure! anything! Just pour!”
Luckily Fuzzy’s aim was right on, and soon the gas can was empty. “Okay Amelia, it’s all up to you now,” I whispered to myself.
Great pilot that she was, she flew us to safety on an island… somewhere. After she had looked over the plane, Amelia said that she could fly us back home… If she had more fuel.
Luckily the locals were friendly and spoke English, so they sent out a boat for more fuel and after several days on that lovely island, the boat returned with enough fuel for 7 planes. When they asked if they had enough fuel Amelia laughed and said yes, and they laughed together merrily.
We had a rather boring return trip, the highlight of which was when we were almost home and saw one of our friends, who was a sparrow, who had heard that the plane was missing and was ecstatic to see that we were alright.
When we got home, Amelia settled down at home with her husband, and made WAY more dresses, and piloted WAY less. She even went by the name Samantha Green most of the time when she was in public because she didn’t want to be constantly pestered for interviews by people wondering when she would try to circle the planet again.
You see she wasn’t normally timid or easily scared off, but this experience had put her off of piloting quite a bit, she DID have many more adventures but most of them were on the ground. I even went with her on some of those other adventures, (many of which took place on horseback as she was an experienced horseback rider.)
And as you can see that I’m telling you this story, so I lived happilyish ever after.
“Wow grandpa, tell us again!”
“Yeah, grandpa!”
“No, no, no my little mouselings you have to sleep now. Good night.” I chuckled to my favorite little mice.
“Aww. Okay, good night grandpa!”
The end.
Thanks for reading!
If you have any story ideas which you would like to see me tackle please share them below!
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