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Mind Games and Mysterious Strangers
Mind Games and Mysterious Strangers
Mind Games and Mysterious Strangers
Ebook110 pages1 hour

Mind Games and Mysterious Strangers

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Curious kids in hot pursuit of playful adventure get more than they bargained for when mysterious strangers suddenly show up – intent on blowing their minds wide open with games far beyond their wildest dreams....

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJean Stites
Release dateOct 19, 2012
ISBN9781301969715
Mind Games and Mysterious Strangers
Author

Jean Stites

Jean Stites is a writer and musician from the San Francisco Bay Area who thanks you so very much for reading and wishes you an especially pleasant day.

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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I was given this book in exchange for an honest review.This book is comprised of two short stories. The first being about the "Big Race." It has fun facts throughout, i.e. "What do French fries and the Declaration have in common?" I had a hard time at times following because it would bounce from present time to past and back. But liked the authors ability to make characters relatable. The second story was considerably shorter than the other story. It was about a mysterious visitor. I loved the ending and thought it was fitting.I would definitely recommend this book to others.

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Mind Games and Mysterious Strangers - Jean Stites

Mind Games and Mysterious Strangers

Two Tales of the Extraordinary

By

Jean Stites

Copyright 2012, Jean Stites.

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and must not be resold.

If you'd like to share this book with other people, please purchase additional copies.

If you're reading this and didn't purchase it, please support and respect the work of this author by going to Smashwords.com and doing so.

Don’t forget to stop and smell the roses.

I

Zelma’s Big Race

Well we all love a good mystery—at least most of us do; and so I've decided to tell absolutely everybody the whole incredible story of Zelma’s Big Race—lay out as many facts for you as possible—and then maybe we can synergistically solve this puzzle together.

While the question when it comes to Zelma is: who, exactly, was she?

Yes, this is something that I've been asking myself for a long, long time; and furthermore—I suddenly also want to ask—what did she expect from us?

Stay tuned!

***

Now that mysterious stranger sure looked like a typical kid, I guess; but she really wasn't too anything, which was one of the things that was so peculiar about her. She wasn't too short, and she wasn't too tall. She wasn't too shy, and she wasn't too loud. She wasn't too fat. She wasn't too thin. She wasn't too smart. She wasn’t too dumb….

I could go on and on!

Let's face it: she was weird!

I mean, look around you: do you see anybody that's perfect? Because everybody I know—and I'm willing to bet everybody you know—has something about them that a nasty-minded individual could zero in on and make fun of, but not Zelma.

Maybe her name, I guess….

I suppose you could say, "Zelma! What kind of a stupid name is that?"—but how far would that really get you in terms of ridicule?

No, I'm telling you: there was nothing there for evildoers to get hold of….

Not that I was sorry!

I was glad!

I liked her a whole lot.

For instance, one day the zipper in my backpack just gave out and I dropped my stuff all over the floor in the hall—I mean: a giant mess rolling in every direction—and then when I turned around, there's Zelma: bending over, helping me pick up!

While I could’ve sworn that ten seconds before she was nowhere in sight….

And so when I found out that we were going to be partners for the Big Race I didn't mind at all. I was excited—and not just because I thought we might have a good chance of winning, but even more because I thought I might get some clues about her. You know: go to her house, get a load of her family—that sort of thing.

Yes, ever since she showed up lots of people had become increasingly curious about her, not just me….

The game, as they say, was afoot!

***

Now the Big Race is still the event of the Kid Year around here. When people in this town smell autumn in the atmosphere they don’t just relish the crisp, clean air and resplendent foliage. Oh, no. Around here, young and old become intoxicated with Big Race Fever!

While the grownups, of course, have almost as much fun watching those they love run the Race as they had when they were participants themselves, and I’m no exception. Last year they put me in charge of the new Name That Tune competition.

Plus, ever since I became ineligible they’ve let me help Mrs. Potsfield pass out the prizes!

Here’s how it works: four weeks ahead of time, kids are paired up into teams—after which they spend the next month on an intellectual scavenger hunt, trying to find answers to hopefully mind-expanding questions worth lots of points when checking in on Race Day. Then they head on out to the playing field in pursuit of prizewinning points through an exhilarating series of grueling events intended to push both mind and body to the max!

Meanwhile, some kids spend the entire year in training—plotting strategies and so forth—like Delbert, who was my chief adversary during our racing days. Their lives revolve around the Big Race, and they take it very, very seriously; although, of course, that doesn't necessarily mean they win.

It doesn't even mean that they have the most fun.

This year for sure! bragged Delbert—perhaps the most fanatical Big Racer that ever drew breath—way back then, at the beginning of our story. I have a plan that’s foolproof—absolutely unbeatable, he continued in his typically snide and sinister tone.

"Oh, please tell us all about it," I begged with a heavily sarcastic edge—feigning indifference, while of course secretly hoping to get him to slip up in a fit of egomania and reveal precious hints that’d give our team a competitive edge against his almost unbeatable zeal—a dedication and level of performance that you just had to give credit to, in spite of the fact that it was so often wasted on criminal activity.

"Are you crazy?" my opponent fired right back—surprising no one by seeing right through me.

Plus, his choice of words was weirdly appropriate, because that very year there’d been talk in town of calling this splendid sporting spectacular the Crazy Race.

"Big Race: what a boring name!" declared Mr. Franklin—the genius who dreamed up the Race—in typically sympathetic response to this undercurrent in his beloved community.

"Why, let's have something a bit more descriptive! Something with flair!" he continued with righteous determination—turning, as usual, to his trusty assistant Larry: master of the game, and our bottom line in all things cerebral.

Let's see…, said our gamemaster, reaching for the Thesaurus , synonyms for big….

While he put his feet up on the desk and began to read, as Mr. F. paced purposefully back and forth.

"Great…. How about Great Race?" that bookworm soon suggested.

Already taken, said the boss impatiently. By a movie—and a triathlon in Auburn, New York—and besides, it’s not nearly colorful enough!

Enormous? Larry chirped, in a playful mood.

"No, no, no! cried Mr. Franklin. It's got to be something that fully describes the glorious chaos—the wonderfully unpredictable nature of this one-of-a-kind masterpiece of sport!"

"How about fat-headed?" quipped the gamemaster.

What? exclaimed Mr. F.—stopping his pacing to glare with annoyance. Is that some kind of joke?

No sir! replied his trusty assistant, pointing to the Thesaurus. "Fat-headed is a synonym for big. It says so right here!"

Let me see that book! cried our frustrated leader, nearly snatching it out of Larry’s hands.

***

Well, as fate would have it, they eventually decided to hold a Name-That-Race Competition. There were posters all over town and it seemed like just everyone was talking about it. Suggestions were to be placed into sealed envelopes and dropped through slots into locked boxes at various locations like the library and the grocery store because—unlike the Big Race—this competition was open to grownups as well.

Yes, former Big Racers got to experience the thrill of participation once more, and soon I even saw my mother slip a suggestion in the box….

Only Mr. Franklin, Larry, and Ms. Potsfield had keys to the boxes and the winner was to be announced at the end of the Final Run of the Race. Mr. F. was going to be the judge, like it or lump it.

So now there were really two hot competitions instead of one that amazing year I had the good fortune to be partners with Zelma. As a matter of fact, people even began to consider the possibility that the winner of the Name-That-Race competition might actually enjoy a longer and more permanent fame than the winner of the Big Race itself.

And then—even more than we all suspected—the winner really would turn out to be someone we’d all remember for a long, long time….

However, die-hards like Delbert were not impressed. "Winning the Big Race is ten zillion times harder than thinking up a name for it!" he declared, as though any fool would know it was obvious—clinging to his spotlight.

"Oh yeah?" said Cynthia, who stood behind

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