by Compilation
Frank L. Cole
Frank L. Cole was born into a family of Southern storytellers and wrote his first book at age eight. Sadly, he misplaced the manuscript and has since forgotten what he wrote. Highly superstitious and gullible to a fault, Frank will believe in any creepy story you tell him, especially ones involving ghosts and Bigfoot. Currently, along with his wife and three children, he resides in the shadows of a majestic western mountain range, which is most likely haunted. Frank has published seven books. His eighth, The Afterlife Academy, releases September 2015.
http://frankcolewrites.com/
Tristan
“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” —Walt Disney
Sada
(JPA Brain Tumor)
Meet Sada! At the request of Sada, and with some help from her mother, there is a bit more “Arrrgh” to her bio!
Ahoy! Meet me matey, Cap’n Sada. Sada has been battling juvenile pylocytic astrocytoma (a tenacious, bilge-rat-type of brain tumor) for over six years. It has been a long, hard battle that has caused her, her six siblings, and her parents to batten down the hatches more than once. This lass has had two brain surgeries since she was nine years old to remove five tumors, with the very real possibility of more surgeries to remove new ones that keep growing.
Aside from physical therapy and cancer treatments, the scallywag high pressure in her skull caused her to lose all vision in one eye and partial vision in the other. But she won’t be walkin’ the plank anytime soon since the rougher the seas, the smoother she sails. None of these scourges has taken away her strong spirit and awesome personality.
A common theme among these kids as they battle cancer is the idea of being free. Free from the hospital, free from the debilitating effects of cancer, free from treatment and the side effects—free to just be kids, savvy? For Sada, I think that being a pirate is the ultimate symbol of freedom.
www.anythingcanbeproject.com/dream-blog/2015/2/25/sada-pirate-captain
Sada of the High Seas
Bobbie Pyron
Sarah sat on the window seat in her bedroom gazing at a moon full and rich as a gold coin. “A pirate’s moon,” she sighed.
She knew this particular moon was called a Pirate’s Moon because Sarah Bloomington knew everything there was to know about pirates. While most fourteen-year-old girls from respectable families were busy learning how to sew tiny, perfect stitches, she was busy learning to tie perfect knots—knots necessary to live aboard a ship—and sword fighting with imaginary opponents. While respectable girls read respectable books like Jane Eyre and Little Women, Sarah devoured Treasure Island, The Three Musketeers, and most especially, The Pirate’s Own Book—books from her brothers, who had no interest in reading.
Sarah Bloomington had no interest in high society or being respectable. More than anything, she wanted to be a pirate, sailing the high seas seeking treasure and adventure.
“Please, please,” she whispered to the moon, “help me.”
The next day, Sarah’s governess said, “We need to go into the village to pick up your debutante gown.”
Sarah groaned. “But I don’t want to debut! It’s stupid! And I certainly don’t want a gown.”
The governess frowned. “All well-born girls debut. How else can the other families see what a good match you would make for their sons?” She smoothed down the girl’s tangled hair. “Honestly,” she said, “it’s time for you to stop running around like a wild thing and become a proper lady.”
The seaside village of Stormhaven bustled with activity. The smell of salt and fish and spices brought from faraway lands lifted Sarah’s spirits. The salty sea breeze on her cheeks filled her with a bit of hope.
“I’m going down to the merchant stalls to buy something pretty for Mother,” the girl lied.
Her governess frowned—again. “Don’t go wandering down to the docks. It’s no place for a girl.” She squinted at the clock tower. “Meet me at Madame Chemise’s in half an hour.”
Of course, Sarah raced straight to the docks.
Her heart soared as she gazed up and up at the ships’ tall masts, the white sails shining in the sun like gulls’ wings. How she longed to climb to the crow’s nest, holding a spyglass to her eye in search of ships to plunder or nameless islands to explore. How she longed to shed the confines of lace and corsets, shoes and stockings for the freedom of pants and bare feet. She would rather carry a sword than a parasol!
Sarah slowly made her way up the long steps to the village, leaving the docks behind. “I’ll never be a pirate,” she muttered. “I’ll have go to a stupid ball in a stupid gown where everyone will look at me like a sheep at auction.”
Just then a hearty gust of wind blew from the sea. A stained piece of paper swirled up from the docks, sticking fast against her leg.
As Sarah pried the paper from her leg, something caught her eye. The something was these two words: PIRATES WANTED!
Sarah gasped and read.
Pirates wanted! Captain seeking crew for upcoming voyage to faraway lands in search of buried treasure and other likewise riches. Scallywags, rapscallions, ruffians, and swashbucklers welcome. Respectable people need not apply. If interested in a life on the high seas, come to the Sea Wolf, anchored in Lamb Harbor.
Sarah could barely believe her eyes. A real pirate captain advertising for a crew! She read the flyer over several times, then frowned. “But when?” she asked the grease-stained piece of paper. “You don’t say when I should apply.” She turned the paper over, and there, scribbled in atrocious script, were the words, We set sail on the morn of the 5th.
Sarah frantically searched her mind for the date. Was today the fourth? Had the fifth already come and gone?
She tucked the advertisement into her sleeve and raced to the dress shop.
Her governess stood outside, glaring pointedly at the clock tower.
Sarah skidded to a stop. “I’m sorry I’m late, Miss Bunderbluss, but please, can you tell me what today’s date is?”
The governess narrowed her eyes, ignoring the girl’s question. “And where is the ‘something pretty’ you were going to get for your mother?”
Sarah grabbed the woman’s arm and said, “Please, Miss Bunderbluss, what is today’s date?”
The governess herded her charge toward the waiting carriage. “If you paid attention to normal things like other girls your age, you’d know.” She handed the package containing the gown to the footman. “Today is June the fourth.”
That night, Sarah feigned illness and retired to her room early. She paced back and forth, reading the advertisement over and over. “They set sail tomorrow morning,” she muttered. “And if I know pirates—which I do—they’ll sail at sunrise.” It all seemed rather hopeless . . .
“No!” she said, striding to her wardrobe and flinging open the doors. “A pirate does not give up!” She looked through her clothes, and her heart sank. Nothing suitable for a pirate interview.
Then she remembered: her middle brother was away for the night. She crept down to his room and pilfered a pair of pants, two rough shirts, and, at the last minute, a canvas pack. “Sorry, Jack,” she said with a smile. “I’ll pay you back when I find the buried treasure.”
Sarah changed into her brother’s clothes and stuffed the canvas pack with underwear (she assumed even pirate’s needed clean underwear), her toothbrush and paste, and, lastly, her love-worn copies of Treasure Island and The Pirate’s Own Book. She would not take her parasol or her shoes.
With one last look at her room, she opened the window and slipped out into the night, the full moon showing her the way. On her pillow, she left a note that read, “Even girls need adventure!”
The chirping of birds woke the girl curled beneath a rock outcrop. She blinked against the bright sunlight and rolled over.
“Oh, no!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “I’ve overslept! They’ll have sailed without me!”
She scanned Lamb Harbor but there, rocking
gently on the waves, was the Sea Wolf. A flag with a smiling skull fluttered on the high mast in the breeze.
Sarah threw the canvas pack onto her back and raced down the path to the shore.
No one stirred on deck.
Sarah cupped her hands around her mouth. “Ahoy, mateys! Ahoy, the ship!”
Nothing. Sarah frowned. “Where is everybody?”
She took a deep breath, cupped her hands around her mouth again, and shouted, “Hello! Hello!”
Nothing. Perhaps they were raiding the village or something equally piratey, and because she had overslept, she didn’t get to go. Sarah picked up a rock from the sand and threw it at the side of the boat. Whack!
A man stumbled up from belowdecks, scratching his rather fat belly and squinting in the sun. “Here now, what’s all the ruckus about?”
She stood as straight and tall as she could. “I’ve come to apply for work on your boat.”
The pirate frowned. “You’ve come to sell us a goat?” He scratched his head. “Well, now, as it happens, er . . . You see . . .”
A pale, skinny pirate joined the first one. “How’s a man supposed to get any sleep around here with all this shoutin’ going on?”
Sleep? Sarah started to point out it was long past time proper pirates should be sleeping, but she thought better of it.
“No, no,” the girl called, louder. “Your boat! I want to work on your boat!” She pulled the advertisement from her pocket and waved it.
“Oy,” the skinny pirate said. “He says he wants to work on your boat, Captain.”
The captain grinned. “Well, that’s a different kettle of fish! Come aboard, boy!”
Sarah held the pack above her head and waded out to the Sea Wolf. Effortlessly, she climbed the rope ladder and hoisted herself over the rail.
“That was certainly some fine climbing, boy, I’ll have to say,” the captain said appreciatively.
“Wait just a blasted second,” the pale pirate said, narrowing his eyes at Sarah. “You’re no boy—you’re a girl!”
Two unlikely-looking pirates joined the group. One peered at her through cracked spectacles. “I don’t know about that, Casper, it could be a boy.”
A pirate with unusually prominent ears peered around Casper. “I think it is a girl.” His ears turned an alarming shade of red.
Sarah sighed impatiently. “Of course, I’m a girl. I’ve come to apply for work on the Sea Wolf.” She studied the motley crew. “This is a pirate ship, is it not?” she asked doubtfully.
“Of course,” Casper said, “but girls aren’t allowed on a pirate ship.”
Sarah frowned. “It doesn’t say on your flyer that girls can’t apply.”
“Does too.” Casper snatched the paper from Sarah’s hand and pointed to the bottom of the page. “Right here: Respectable people need not apply.”
“So?”
“So,” Casper said. “Girls aren’t ‘people.’”
“Are too!” Sarah spat.
“Are not!”
Sarah threw her pack to the deck and roundly kicked Casper in the shins.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” He hopped on one leg, clutching the other. “What did you go and do that for?”
The big-eared pirate hid behind the captain.
“See here,” the captain said. “There’s no need to fight.”
Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “No need to fight? But that’s what pirates do! What kind of pirate ship is this?”
For the first time since coming aboard, Sarah took a good look around. No cannons. No swords or guns or treasure chests. The mainsail mast had no crow’s nest, and the flag looked entirely too friendly.
She put her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you have a crow’s nest?”
“We’re afraid of heights,” the captain said.
“And there are no weapons of any sort,” she pointed out. “How do you expect to raid villages or capture a merchant ship or fight off the royal navy?”
The hapless pirates looked from one to the other. “We’re hoping a nice chat will do,” the bespectacled pirate said, cleaning them with a monogrammed hanky.
“And a cup of tea,” Big Ears added from behind the captain.
Sarah stared at the so-called pirates in disbelief. “My one chance to be a pirate and sail the high seas, find buried treasure, and have adventures, and I end up with . . . with you lot.”
The girl sank to the deck and put her head in her hands.
“But don’t you see?” the captain asked, touching her back. “That’s what we want too.”
Sarah looked up into the faces of the men. “Really?”
Casper nodded. “We just don’t rightly know how.”
Sarah took her worn copies of The Pirate’s Own Book and Treasure Island from her pack and held them up.
“Are you willing to learn?” she asked. “Are you willing to work hard and stick together no matter what?”
They nodded eagerly.
She eyed Casper. “Even though I am a girl?”
Rubbing his shin, Casper nodded.
Sarah sprang to her feet, grinning. “I think this calls for a blood oath.” She took a switchblade stolen from her oldest brother. She flicked open the blade and made a quick, sure cut across her finger. Blood dripped onto the deck. Big Ears fainted dead away.
Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I can see I have my work cut out turning you into proper pirates.”
“But you can, can’t you, miss?”
Sarah looked at the hopeful faces and the tight ship and the sun dancing like jewels on the endless sea beyond.
She laughed. “Hoist the mainsail and pull the anchor!”
“Captain,” she ordered, “set a course south by southwest. We’re headed for Jamaica!”
“Aye, aye, um . . . What should we call you, miss?” the captain asked.
Sarah paused. Somehow her name didn’t sound like a pirate’s name. Then she remembered what her littlest brother had called her when he was but three.
With a whoop, she leaped onto the quarterdeck. “Sada! Sada of the High Seas!”
Bobbie Pyron
Bobbie was born in Hollywood, Florida, and grew up loving the ocean. Perhaps that is why she always wanted to be a mermaid. Or a frog. But she also wanted to be a writer.
Her life held many twists and turns: She went to college and earned degrees in psychology and anthropology. For a time, she was a singer in a rock-and-roll band. She returned to college for a degree to work as a librarian, a career she has enjoyed for over twenty-five years. Finally, she realized her dream and became a published author. She is the author of four books.
http://www.bobbiepyron.com
Jordan
“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” —Eleanor Roosevelt
Braelyn
(Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia)
Meet Braelyn! The first time I met Braelyn I asked her who her favorite superhero was. With a big grin she immediately replied, “My mommy!” With tears in her eyes, Braelyn’s mom was speechless; to her, Braelyn is the real superhero.
Braelyn wanted to be a superhero who saved her friends—her friends being her stuffed animals! I made the mistake of tying her animals to the tracks and that caused a bit of sadness, which almost ruined the shoot. Luckily we were able to explain that she would be saving her friends, which made her pretty happy!
On September 16, 2013, Braelyn was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia, the most common form of childhood cancer. At three years old, Braelyn has already faced down her disease with superhero courage and strength. She doesn’t seem to mope around the house feeling sorry for herself either. She is one of my personal heroes.
www.anythingcanbeproject.com/dream-blog/2014/11/10/braelyn-super-hero
Braelyn and the Speeding Train
Peggy Eddleman
It was the sunniest of days when four-year-old Braelyn sat on a blanket in her yard, playing Plan the Party with her big sister, Dani.
She gave all of her stuffed friends the most gigantic hug, and then sat them where they could watch. Braelyn’s mom and dad were sitting in the sun, reading and chatting and ready to join in on whatever party their daughters planned. Braelyn and Dani had already planned some of the most exciting parties around—holiday parties and dance parties and board game parties and animal parties. Today’s party needed to be extra special, though, to celebrate such a beautiful day.
Suddenly Braelyn turned and saw that her stuffed friends were gone! She had a terrible feeling deep in her chest that they were now far away and in big trouble. She jumped up and grabbed her cape, fastening it around her neck. “I’ll be right back,” she called out to her family. “I need to go save the day.”
Braelyn grabbed her trusty scooter as her mom called out to her, “Good luck, sweetie!”
Her dad gave her two thumbs up. “Go be awesome, my little superhero!”
Her sister waved good-bye. “See you soon!”
Ka-chunk! Ka-chunk! Ka-chunk! Braelyn’s scooter sounded as the wheels raced across the lines in the sidewalk. She pushed her foot on the ground faster and faster as she whizzed past all of the neighbor’s houses. She was wearing her superfast shoes, and they were definitely making her go superfast. Swish! went the air as she flashed around the corner.
Everyone’s heads whipped in Braelyn’s direction as she passed through the neighborhood. She sped by so fast that she was barely a blur to them as she raced down the sidewalk.
When she got to where the street and the sidewalk ended and the fields started, Braelyn parked her scooter. Now that she was even closer to the danger, she could sense that she needed to save them fast!
Braelyn took off running. She ran across the field, her legs moving so fast that if it weren’t for the Thud! Thud! Thud! her feet made as they hit the ground, she would have thought she was gliding across the fields.
When she reached the woods, she sped around each of the trees. She leaped over fallen logs and big rocks. She ducked under low tree branches. Left and right and over and under she went as she ran through the woods faster and faster. Everything around her became a blur of green and brown.
