Hi All! So, in case you guys are wondering, it has been pretty busy for me lately. I’m picking and choosing which projects I want to work on right now, along with coming up with new ideas for some. For those of you who did not know me prior to my blog here, I was working on a short story titled, “The Chronicles of Stanly Gudenuff” which focuses on the lives of seven teenagers and their relationship with their parents and other relatives, along with the relationships between each of them. This Short story is one I had began working on for the main character, Stanly, and his adopted brother Thomas. Please let me know how you guys feel about this one, and if there is positive feedback, I will continue this short story.
Progress on Madeline: It’s still in the works. The full short story will still be released at the end of this month, so I haven’t forgot!
So here it is, folks. Part 1 of The Chronicles of Stanly Gudenuff.
Today is the big day. My family and I are going on a vacation my Mom had won from some scratch and sniff card she received from her job for her 37th birthday. Everything was going fine until, as usual, things weren’t going the way Dad had planned.
“Stanly! Thomas! Why haven’t you guys placed your luggage in the car yet?” Dad yells from down the hall.
“Give us a minute, Al! You only told us like 20 minutes ago!” Thomas yelled back.
Thomas can get away with things like that. He was adopted at years 2 of age. He’s 14 now. Our parents love him. If I did that, I can say goodbye to this trip, and goodbye to this summer.
“Nice try, Thomas. Your Mother told you guys last night. Now hurry up! We’ve got to be on the road to to the airport in 4 hours!”
“Alyx, it only takes 2 hours to get there. Even with traffic, that’s an additional 45 minutes. Relax.”
“Liv, you know how I am about last minute. If you’re on time, you’re late. That’s what we said in the Battalion.”
My Dad always likes to bring up his 3 months at the Norwegian Military Academy. He says, “Stanly, my time at the Academy is where I learned to become a man.”
I sarcastically comment back, “Dad, those 3 months must have been Hell for you. I sometimes don’t understand how you managed to survive.”
“Well Stan,” Dad replies, “You are 16 now. Sooner or later, you’re going to have your own battle. I can show and tell you my experiences, but you determine the man you want to become.”
Sometimes my Dad surprises me with responses like that. Where were we? Oh yeah, packing. Thomas is definitely more of the carefree one of the family. He can pack 3 t-shirts, 2 pairs of shorts, and be fine. The only thing he packs more of is his art supplies. At least if he ever runs out of clothes, he can paint on a new outfit, I guess. He rushes downstairs to throw his suitcase into the back of Dad’s truck.
“Whoa, Thom! Be careful! That’s a Ford, not a Chevy.” Dad exclaims.
“Yeah, then I probably just made it a little bit better!” Thomas snarks back.
Mom comes upstairs to check on me and my current situation with my packing. It’s not that I’m slower than Thomas, I’m just more attentive when it comes to packing. The only thing I need is my camcorder and an outfit for each day.
“Hurry Stan.” Mom says from the doorway. “You know how your Father is. Expect a big speech on how this relates to his time in the Battalion.”
“Almost finished, mom.” I assure her. “I just can’t find the T-shirt.”
“Oh.” Mom giggles. “You mean “The” T-shirt? The one signed Hank Stanovich?”
Hank Stanovich was local Footballer back in our home country of Norway. I promised him I’d carry a signed T-shirt of his whenever we were away from our new home in the US on a vacation. I don’t think it will mean much, seeing how he is only a Footballer during the Cup, but hey, keep hope alive right?
“Yes, mom. That one. I don’t think it’s in the laundry. I have never really worn it since we’ve been here. You know, I’m sure it can go one trip without being with us.”
Suitcases are packed, we are all in the truck, and we are ready to go. We are about 30 minutes into the drive, when my mother poses a question.
“This may be deemed an unnecessary question,”
“Then don’t ask.” Dad butts in.
The look Mom gave Dad said everything he needed to hear for the rest of that conversation.
“Like I was saying, did anyone happen to pick up the tickets and itineraries from the kitchen table?”
I looked at Thomas, and Dad looked in the rear view mirror at me. The men in this truck became a deer in front of a truck. In the most unsafe manner as possible on the highway, dad came to an abrupt stop. Oddly, with no traffic in sight, he floors it over to the opposite side of the highway to rush back home.
“Alyx, yeah, let’s not ever do that again.” Mom says.
“What? Forget the materials we need? good idea.” Dad says. Clearly confused.
“Besides that, what you just did on the highway was dangerous. Stanly is driving now. Be a good influence. And don’t you dare turn this into a Battalion story.”
“When I was in the Battalion…” Dad starts.
We all groan in agony. At least this trip isn’t like the trip we took to Toronto. Dad’s Battalion stories are what got us kicked out of The Molson Ampitheatre.
“When I was in the Battalion, one of the cadets had forgotten their navigation map. He stayed out there for three days.”
“Dear, that was you, and you were only lost for 3 hours,” mom abruptly corrects him.
So we make it back home. Mom runs into the house, grabs the tickets and itineraries, and we head to the airport. When we get there, we are graced by the smiling faces of our twin cousins Carly and Charly Von Eubensteuffer. Along with Aunt Heather and Uncle Michael. I say that with such enthusiasm.
So, this is the beginning of The Chronicles of Stanly Gudenuff. Still a few more families to be introduced. If you guys liked it, please press the like button and share! If you didn’t like it, feel free to comment and tell me what needs more work. Thanks!