“C’mon kids, get out your math books,” called Mrs. Rugg.

Some groaned, but others enthusiastically pulled out their hefty, neon green
math books bearing the the words “Holt Mathematics” in thick white letters. Along with these books, the classmates pulled out their Math journals, spiralbound notebooks filled with graph paper and bursting with arithmetic and ‘math doodles’. The class usually used slideshows for math, but there was a storm raging outside and the power was out. Suddenly, Sarah, one of the students, saw fit to call out.

“Energyyyy!” she called. Jacob quickly joined in.

“E-e-e-energy!”

The scene that followed was later referred to as “The Pineapple Incident.” However, that is a different story. After about ten minutes, Mrs. Rugg managed to take control of the situation again.

“Alright class, turn to page five hundred sixty seven,” she commanded. From there, the math lesson commenced as usual for all the students—save one.

Mira Williams had woken up that morning at seven o’ clock, hastily thrown on some fresh clothes, brushed her teeth and hair, and gulped down a cup of cocoa. After getting in the car, she remembered that her math was on the counter and ran to get it, only to find that her dog had chewed it into tiny pieces. After trying to salvage the situation by sticking the pieces together with Elmer’s Glue, because there didn’t seem to be any tape on hand, she jumped in the car and arrived at school just as the bell rang. She was utterly exhausted.

As the math lesson started, she noticed something strange about her math book. It was wiggling, pages, cover and all, as if trying to break free from some invisible trap. As she stared in disbelief, it began to wriggle free from its speckled book cover and crawl about on the desk, and the instant it shed its speckled skin it lunged towards Mira. It hit her in the stomach and she nearly cried out, but thought better of it. What if she was only imagining it? She would look like a fool. Besides, even if it was real, she didn’t want attention drawn to herself. Mrs. Rugg had already told her twice today to concentrate on the lesson, and she certainly didn’t want to get into any further trouble. So she grasped it in both hands and held it tight.

Making an agreeing nod as her classmates chanted an answer to a question she hadn’t heard at all, she attempted to stuff the book back into its cover. Sarah was giving her a funny look, but the book was below the top of the desk so it appeared that Mira was simply twitched sporadically at random intervals. She attempted to keep a straight face, which is difficult when you have a heavy math book clawing at you left and right.

The demonic entity had already given her enough paper cuts for a month, and she didn’t know if she could keep it contained much longer. She opened her desk as quietly as possible, keeping the monstrosity at bay with one hand, and grabbed the first thing she could find, which happened to be a gel pen. She stabbed the book with all the force she could muster, and it began to bleed ink and make an awful gurgling sound which sounded rather like someone chanting pi while drowning. While it was occupied thus, she stuffed the creature into the book cover. Having bought herself some time, she rummaged around her desk for a safety pin and pinned the book to its respective cover. Glancing at Sarah’s book, she turned to the correct page and gave sigh of relief.

“All right, Mira, what should we replace the variable x with?” asked Mrs. Rugg.

Mira didn’t know the lesson at all, much less the problem.

“Err, can you repeat the question?” she said as innocently as possible.

“Were you listening at all?”

Mira hung her head in shame.

“All right, Mira, remember your goal, and don’t let me catch you daydreaming in class again. Okay, get paintbrushes from the counter, class, we’re painting out model volcanoes,” she said.

Mira only sighed and chose a paintbrush with a particularly pointy end.

I ran as fast as I could over the hills of snow. I had lost my jolly along with my corncob pipe, and my happiness had cracked in two with my button nose.  The silk hat that was necessary for life was securely glued to my head with slush.

I ran for cover, then looked up, shading my eyes made of coal from the day’s hot sun. To my right were several rice fields.  The water was covered with a thin sheet of ice, so I darted over.  When I jumped in the water, I could feel a protective shield of ice freeze over me.

I leaped out of the water and kept running.  During my travels, I had heard of a place where it was almost always cold: The North Pole.  However, I needed to get somewhere cold fast, so instead of north, I headed east to the Sierra Nevada. I hoped to find a chilly cave to live in.  However, right then, all I needed was to stay firm.

I thumpety thump thumped toward the rising sun. Someday, I would be safe.  I had to.

–Mira Williams

WUMP. And another one hit the ground.

“Come quick! Sadana has it too!” shouted a female voice.

The whole class got up to go see what was going on. They clustered around the girl who had just hit the ground.

“Excuse me,” said Mrs. Rung, pushing through the circle of middle school children. She knelt down and felt the unconscious girl’s forehead. “Her fever is even worse than Stanley’s. Alan, Travis, come carry her to the office.”

Both of the boys had been gawking at the unconscious Sadana, and they reluctantly hefted her up, then dropped her on the ground.

“OOF!” they called out in unison. “She’s HEAVY!”

Mrs. Rung looked around. The class usually only had eleven kids, and Jake, Janet, and Stanley were already gone. Stanley had also collapsed from the strange illness that had infected the school, and Janet and Jake had helped carry him to the office. Nearly a quarter of the students had been sent home in just that day, all of them with the same symptoms: high fever, pale faces, and unconsciousness.

“Is there anyone else who will help them?” Mrs. Rung said in a pleading tone. “Recess is in five minutes and I have yard duty.”

Daniel stepped forward with a sigh and grabbed Sadana. The boys heaved her off the ground. Myrtle and Seriah had offered their help earlier, but weren’t strong enough to lift anyone, and Courtney had helped Cayley down to the office on her own. None of the ones who had left had come back.

“OW!” shouted Travis. He let go of Sadana’s arms and she landed with a thump.

“Careful, she’s a human being, you know!” scolded Mrs. Rung.

“She cut me!” protested Travis. He held up his hand, where there was a bleeding cut in the shape of a fingernail.

“Go get a band-aid,” Mrs. Rung replied wearily, as she got up to get an aspirin.

Suddenly, she screamed. Sadana’s eyes had opened. And they were blood red.

Everything happened in an instant. Sadana opened her eyes, reached out with a hand whose fingernails had grown into claws, and dug them into Mrs. Rung’s ankle. At the same time, Travis hit the ground. Myrtle screamed. Mrs. Rung screamed. Daniel screamed as Sadana’s other clawed hand left a bleeding scratch down his leg. Sadana stood up and looked around the classroom. Her eyes were filled with hatred and scorn. She smirked and chuckled, revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Mrs. Rung fainted, from either the disease or pure terror. Screams came from the direction of the office, then abruptly stopped. Sadana grinned. Myrtle was paralyzed with fear, but Seriah reached into her desk and pulled out the heaviest book she could find.

“No, Seriah!” Myrtle whispered. “It’s still Sadana. Maybe she can be cured.”

“Don’t worry,” replied Seriah, but she looked pretty worried herself. “I’m just gonna knock her out.”

But Sadana heard them. She growled savagely. Seriah raised both hands and smiled.

“It’s okay, Sadana,” she said in a slow, calm voice. “We’re not gonna-”

Without warning, she leaped forward and smashed Sadana on the head with th book. Sadana fell to the ground, but continued growling and scratching at Seriah. Myrtle pushed Seriah out of the way and threw a stapler at Sadana’s head, which knocked her out. Myrtle looked warily at all the sick people on the ground.

“We need to get to the lab. It’s secure,” said Myrtle.

Seriah nodded. The lab was both a science and a computer lab. It was built out of metal and also served as a safehouse during earthquakes.

Myrtle gasped. “Where’s Alan?” she exclaimed. “And Daniel?”

“Alan ran out the door while we weren’t looking, and Daniel’s on the floor. But he probably won’t be there long.”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get out of here!”

Seriah grabbed a dictionary and handed one to Myrtle. They stepped around the people lying on the ground and each grabbed an umbrella as a shield and weapon before hurrying out the door.

Sick kids were everywhere with blood red eyes, many of them their friends. Students and teachers lay unconscious on the ground. The path to the lab was completely filled with infected people.

“What should we do?” Myrtle whispered hopelessly.

“What we have to,” Seriah replied.

Myrtle nodded, then managed a smile. “Charge?”

And that’s just what they did.

The run to the lab was a flurry of fear and adrenaline. All around them was a fate worse than death, so they ran, whacking with dictionaries, shielding with instantly battered and beaten umbrellas. Several times a claw ripped through the umbrella, coming only inches away from their skin. But after what seemed like both forever and no time at all, they arrived at the metal door of the lab. Seriah flung it open as Myrtle held off the infected with her umbrella. They darted in and slammed the door and locked the deadbolt.

“We made it,” said Seriah with immense relief.

Myrtle looked up with pure horror. “I didn’t,” she replied, pointing to a bleeding mark on her leg. “Seriah, you’ll have to find a cure alone. I’ve got to get away before I transform. Good luck. ”

“I’ll need it,” said Seriah as she turned to the lab and started grabbing chemicals.

Myrtle gave her one last sad look, murmured a farewell, then flung herself out the door. It slammed shut behind her. A scream came through the door. Then, silence. Seriah winced.

“What just happened?” said a voice. Seriah spun around.

“Mr. Funger?” Seriah said with disbelief in her voice. “What are you doing here? And why were you quiet this whole time?”

“My entire class was sent home. We had a huge outbreak, so the principal sent me here to write alternative math tests. Then, I heard screaming from outside, so I called the police and hid.”

“Then why wasn’t the door locked?” said Seriah.

“Oh. Well, err…I suppose I forgot. I guess I just got lucky and none of them tried the door.”

“You called the police?”

“Yes. But the man there was being attacked by something. He told me to stay hidden in a secure space, and he said something about pie.”

“Pie?” Seriah said. “There is some horrible epidemic that might wipe out humanity, and he was talking about pie? Wait a minute,” she said. “Maybe pie is the cure. Mr. Funger, do you have any pie?”

“I already tried that. I had some blueberry pie in my lunch, but throwing it at them didn’t help.”

Seriah was becoming hysterical.

“Well, what ELSE could it be?”

“Wait, I have an idea,” he replied. “Maybe he meant pi.”

“Well, of COURSE he meant pie! That’s what you just said!”

“No, no, I mean 3.14159 pi.”

“Oh,” Seriah replied simply. “But how could we cure them using that?”

“Well, maybe just hearing it will cure them. It’s worth a shot.”

Seriah nodded. Then, she opened the door. Hundreds of infected came swarming towards them.

“Three point one four one five nine!” called Mr. Funger.

“Nothing’s happening!” shouted Seriah above the roar of the infected. Seriah and Mr. Funger were having quite a time keeping them back with only torn umbrellas.

“Two six five three!” he called. This time the infected put their hands to their heads, but then kept coming. Mr. Funger went on and on. With each digit, they were weakened. They were having trouble, some reeling and falling down. But suddenly, Mr. Funger stopped.

“Keep going!” shouted Seriah.

“I don’t know any more!” Suddenly, a claw ripped through Mr. Funger’s umbrella and scratched his arm.

Seriah, at that moment, gave up hope. She didn’t know pi very well. There was only one more thing she could do.

“Et cetera!” she screamed. Silence. The infected stopped roaring, then fell to the ground. Seriah fainted. She woke up moments later to find that everyone was waking up. Nobody could remember being infected. Seriah began sobbing with joy. Everyone was saved.

Seriah found Myrtle, and they went to the computer lab to make a recording of pi. Mr. Funger drove them to a nearby news station, playing the recording full blast all the way. Once it was on TV and radio, they were able to tell the uninfected what to do. Eventually, everyone was cured, easy as… you know.

Here are 15 books that influenced me (from a Facebook meme):

Calvin and Hobbes, by Bill Waterson
One, Two, Three, Infinity,  by George Gamow
Watership Down, by Richard Adams
Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson
A Song of Ice and Fire, by that writer’s blocked bastard George R.R. Martin
The Tao of Pooh, by Benjamin Hoff
A Pattern Language, by Christopher Alexander
Ain’t Nobody’s Business If You Do, by Peter McWilliams
Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman, by Richard Feynman
Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett
Different Seasons, by Stephen King
Beggars in Spain, by Nancy Kress
The Grapes of Wrath,  by John Steinbeck
Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card
The High Cost of Free Parking, by Donald Shoup

When there’s a book and a movie, I usually try to see the movie first, because otherwise the greater depth of the book makes the movie seems shallow and disappointing.

This is a case in which I recommend the opposite.  I suspect that if you haven’t read the book, the movie will seem a little rushed, hinting at events you’d like a little more background of.

Read Watchmen.  If you don’t have a geeky friend you can borrow a copy from, your social circle needs expanding.

Then see the movie.  It’s a visual delight, and deserves the big screen.

And no, it’s not going to get a Best Picture nom.

I’m cautiously optimistic about the Watchmen movie coming out this weekend.

I read the 12-issue comic book series back in 1986-1987.  It cemented in my mind what it could mean for comics to be literature or art.

It’s also an interesting time capsule about how we looked at the world during the Reagan era, with Soviet conflict and nuclear doomsday always lurking in the back of everyone’s mind.

Reading a book in serial form is interesting.  You have to wait for each installment, which leads to debate and dicussion with many peers about what’s going to happen next.  You don’t get that with a novel, because somebody’s already read it completely.  (I noticed the same thing with Stephen King’s Green Mile.)

Chapter III
Coral and Myrtle

For now, we must leave the Snore and return to what is happening to Coral. Or, rather, what is happening inside her head.

Coral had awoken from her nap, and was preparing herself for the long school day ahead. She had no idea just how long and hard a day she was in for.

Inside Coral’s head, Brother Yawn was waking up from his nap. Or, rather, he was awoken by the sound of a Snore screaming in terror. You see, Yawns have excellent hearing. And Yawns are closely related to Snores, and thus on very friendly terms with them. This Yawn was no different from the rest of them. As soon as he heard the scream, he rushed out of Coral’s ear and headed towards the sound of the Snore’s voice. But, while Brother Yawn flies off to rescue the Snore, I must tell you more about Coral and Myrtle.

Coral Mithendril was an 11 year old girl who at that time had no knowledge of the abnormal. She was born in Europe and moved to America when she was 2 years old. She spoke both French and English and was best friends with Myrtle Mithendril. However, she was nothing like Myrtle, which you will realize in a moment.

Myrtle Willowflew was also an 11 year old girl. She was born in California and had nothing about her that made her seem very different from anyone else. But she was different. Very different. Because Myrtle Willowflew was a cyborg.

Now, I don’t mean that half of her limbs are made of steel or anything. When she was 9 years old, she was outside in her garden. Suddenly, a giant shadow covered the garden, and the next thing she knew she was in a  room full of strange things. There were tables covered with strange colored chemicals, and machines of unimaginable technology and size. She got up and walked over to the door, which looked like and was made of steel and definitely secure. There was a complicated looking combination lock by the door. By focusing on it hard, she was able to crack the code that opened the door. How did she do this? She had a computer in her brain.

Chapter 2
Difficulties

Our Snore prepared for a hard journey. However, he was lucky, and met only minor troubles on his way to the Isle of Snores. He feasted on broccoli in barbecue sauce and wore pink socks with green polka dots. He thought that since it had been such an easy trip there it would also be an easy journey back to the U.S.A. Sadly, he was wrong. Why? To answer that question,we must look at the world from yet another point of view.

Mr. Periwinkle Peliggall (Peli for short) was a pelican who lived on the coast of the Pacific Ocean. He was very ill-tempered and despised everyone but himself. He was obsessed with food of every kind, but there was one dish that he preferred above all.
Fresh, tasty snores.

And now we must go back to what our Snore is doing. After completing the stationary  Snore ritual, he was ready to complete his journey. He packed an emergency kit with things such as a handkerchief, a bubble gun and a can of extingui-fly spray. However, he did not think the trip would be rough and, after saying his good-byes, set out to find a home.

Shortly after leaving, the Snore saw a flock of seagulls flying towards him. Like any good Snore, he was afraid of being preyed upon by seagulls and the like. The Snore made himself transparent, and even after the flock had passed, he continued to look over his shoulder for any signs of hostility. Only when they had disappeared from sight did he look before himself only to realize that he was face to face with a giant pelican.

In our world, we live normally. We act normally. Life is as normal as can be. But I must ask you…
What is normal? Think. If you were looking from some people’s point of view, you would see that things were not normal.
This story is about those people.

Chapter I

As I before mentioned, some people live in our world but see it in a different way. They know the extraordinary and have seen things that you and I could hardly imagine. Let us begin with the tale of one of these people. Her name is Coral Mithendril.

Early one morning, Coral was in the car on the way to school with her friend Myrtle Willowflew. Coral had not slept well that night and was on the point of falling asleep. She was so tired that at a certain point she let out a huge yawn, but he stayed inside her head and thought he would come out later. He was called Brother Yawn.

Now, in our world, most think Yawns and such are not alive and cannot talk or be named or save lives or win Olympic medals or anything that people can do. But they are wrong.

Yawns in particular are very slow and boring creatures, unless they are angry. They usually float up into the sky and take the appearance of clouds. When they open their mouths, water pours out. However, don’t be afraid to go outside in the rain because you don’t want Yawn saliva on you, as it is really pure water. When there is pollution, they cry, and that is what bad rain is. When Yawns get angry, they all band together and moan and fly around, and thus create hurricanes and the like.
But back to the story.

Coral was  able to stay awake for only a little while longer, and finally fell asleep. Once asleep, she let out one good sized snore, which escaped out her ear and flew out the window. This snore is to become a main character in this story. But now I shall tell you about a certain ritual all Snores go through.

Once Snores are made, they always fly over the nearest ocean(avoiding hungry predators)in order to get to the Isle of Snores. They then feast upon broccoli in barbecue sauce and wear pink sacks with green polka dots. Once satisfied, they travel around in order to find a place to live. This Snore was destined to find not a place to live in, but a person to travel with. But  first, our snore (who had at that point no name) must complete a task that he may not survive involving one word.
Pelican.

“What?” Her eyes opened wide as she smiled.  “What do you mean?”

“They’re green.”

“What does that have to do with electric?”

I swallowed and squeezed my eyes tight.  Took a deep breath.  Shrugged.

“You are so gone.” Her voice was musical. I could tell she laughed easily.  I knew she could sit on a park bench and happily watch people. I was gone. My chest felt empty, vacated. Every heartbeat caused a pang of hunger. “How do you feel?”

I tilted my head happily. How did this happen? “How long has it been?”

I could hear her checking her watch.  “Uh, about five minutes.”

Five minutes.  I’ll never make it. Actually it was a lot easier since I had closed my eyes.  I could see the green patterns of her eyes, refusing to hold still in my head, but at least I could pay attention to other things.

“Well?” She wanted an answer.  I thought I could pay attention, but I had missed her question again.

“Just about.”  I laughed. Sometimes that’s an appropriate response, right?

“Like that phrase, don’t you?” God, she’s quick. I loved her. “Especially when you don’t hear something.”  Very quick.

Great. I meet a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful girl, and I can’t form a complete sentence.  She’ll think I’m a druggie. Lord knows enough of Reed’s friends are.