You know its true what they say about Mondays...They really do suck.

I know that it is a bad attitude to have, but I really dislike when my entire weekends are taken up by writing a stupid paper on some boring love story like "Sense and Sensibility" and then I have to go right back to school. Arrrgh! (Side note: I often don't like using onomatopoeia or exclaimations, but I just feel so upset!). The one bright spot is that Emma and I are still hanging out together despite Beth's efforts to turn her against me. Bitch! (Again...read above) I am so upset at Beth and can't believe how much she has changed since our Red Hill school days a couple years ago. We were at one time best friends and now that has completely changed. Tom, my other old friend from Red Hill has also turned on me, although that happened quite awhile ago. He is even playing football and is dating a cheerleader named Becky Feist. A cheerleader! He and Beth are now friends, which is unbelievable because Beth and I used to mock cheerleaders and 'deride' them for how fake they are. Deride is the word of the week, but more on that later.

One good thing to come from these 'shocking' turn of events is that I feel like writing again. Maybe its my new found fondness for Emma Osterman, but I feel more inspired than I have in quite some time. My therapist, Mr. Todd, has traced my previous lack of inspiration back to about one and a half years ago when my Grandfather, Jem Big Sky the first, passed away. He says that perhaps I wrote "as a means of connecting with him and his past" and that when he died I lost that connection. I think that he may be right because every time I have tried to write since, I start to feel loss and emptiness. He has helped me to express these feelings and as a result has separated my desire to write from those painful memories. Now, I focus on the strength I get from expressing myself and from creating thoughts, both fictional and non-fictional, that help me to "create my story", as Mr. Todd puts it.

Well, I wish I had more to write this week, other than to say that life is funny and people are funnier. I have trouble accepting change sometimes (like with my former friendships), but am glad to accept the positive change in the addition of Emma in my life. It scares me because I feel more and more that she is the reason I can get myself out of bed in the morning. Dad says that maybe that isn't so healthy, but almost always when you like someone, that for the first several days of that 'fresh' relationship, you can't think of much else but seeing that person again. He also said that "one must be careful (meaning me), not to be the only one in the relationship who feels that way". Of course it was natural for me to respond as if this were a question about Emma's feelings for me, in which I stated that I was almost positive that she feels the same way and that she has been about as lost as me at this 'monstrosity' of a school called Ronald Reagan High School since she came here. Also, we both feel like we have found each other for a reason. "What exactly is the reason?", he asked politely. I responded with "to help each other through the day". Apparently, that wasn't good enough for Jem Big Sky II and he said "what else you got?" I couldn't say anything at that point, but after thinking about it for awhile, I have realized that I just like talking to her about a lot of different things. She tells me stories about Arcata and I tell her stories about Red Hill. We talk about why we liked our schools so much better than RRHS and in what ways. We are both reminded by our Mothers that "the grass is always greener on the other side", but after real careful consideration, it isn't really that in our case. We both felt like learning was more fun and active at our other schools and less out of a book. We took more trips and learned 'hands on' as they say. I never felt dreadful about the idea of going to school, unless maybe if I had a Math test, although often Math problems were involved in projects like 'starting a business' or 'planning a trip'. I guess I could go on, but I think my readers get the picture.

Both my parents and Emma's mother have encouraged us (or maybe challenged us) to write letters to the school board and perhaps our principal with these thoughts about how best we learn in the hopes that maybe things will change. Both Emma and I think that it couldn't hurt, but sometimes it does give us something to "complain" about as Dad says and maybe we need that "bond of oppression" to make us feel isolated from everyone else. I guess he has a point, but I think we are not alone in how we feel about our current school and that we maybe shouldn't isolate ourselves like we have. Damnit! I hate it when my Dad is right. He is right often and that is why I come to him for advice I suppose.

Perhaps Emma and I could start a club at school that takes action against boring school work. Emma said that it could be called "More than the facts" club. I asked why and she said that maybe learning should be about more than just facts in a book and should be about "going places". I said "and doing real things". "Yes!" she said excitedly, and we could petition the school to spend more money on field trips and encourage the teachers to push for it too. We spent the entire lunch period writing down ideas and nearly forgot to eat our lunches. I think that we will have to start recruiting members or start a petition soon in order to get attention to the cause. "I think there may be enough students who aren't brainwashed completely" Emma said. "Yeah and perhaps we could convince them to put their cellphones down long enough to sign a petition", I replied. We both laughed and then had a nervous few moments looking at one another that made me feel a little queasy inside.

I think I am beginning to like that feeling.

Its 2-for-1 with word or words of the week. Deride means "express contempt for; ridicule" and the meaning of monstrosity is "something, esp. a building, that is very large and is considered unsightly" or "something that is outrageously or offensively wrong". I think both definitions of monstrosity work fine in this case.

Well, a couple of months have passed once again since I have written. For some reason, I have not had the desire to write about myself or my family in quite some time. Maybe its because I have to write all the time at school and a lot of time about things that don't interest me. I also spend a lot of time trying to remember figures like dates about historical events that have some interest to me, but I cannot seem to remember when exactly they happened because numbers don't seem to stick in my head for some reason. I definitely don't like writing book reports on books by people like Shakespeare or Jane Austen. I guess I would rather write about current events or fictional stories about precoscious cats or dogs. Unfortunately, I will not be able to take Creative Writing until next year and only if it does not fill up before I can sign up.

So, I keep a writing journal by my bed that I write in once in awhile, but not often at once to transfer to my blog. I do have a story that I feel needs to be written about and that is why I am finally entering a long, overdue posting. It does involve my friend, Beth, and the Sweethearts Ball that happened two days ago.
I asked Beth to go to the dance a couple of weeks ago and she said 'yes' and then a junior named Dylan asked her a few days later and for some reason she said 'yes' to him also. I think she was surprised by his request and somehow forgot about me asking her. I don't know exactly why she did it, but I think she has secretly liked him for awhile. Well, anyhow it really hurt when she finally remembered that she agreed to go with me and then apologized. She seemed to be really embarrassed by it, but I decided to forgive her and I think she sensed that I hadn't really.
I wasn't going to go at all mow even though I had bought tickets, but I heard my Grandpa's voice tell me to "get back on the horse, son". So, I decided to go by myself. I felt so alone and I thought that my time at Ronald Reagan High School had sunk to a new low. The only person I felt close to and could trust was Beth and now I felt so 'isolated' and depressed. 'Isolation' then has become my word of the, well, month. Just when I was about to call my dad from the payphone, a girl named Emma came up to me and started talking to me with just a little hint of hesitation; almost as if she was being encouraged by a distant voice like I was. She said "Hi. I'm Emma". "I'm Jem", I replied. At first, I sounded a bit confused and maybe as though someone like her was only coming up to me because of pity. I was also allowing some of my anger of the evening come through and I think Emma sensed this and said "Are you ok?" I said, with some hint of annoyance and sarcasm, "yes, I am great. How are you?" She stopped her answer and seemed ready to bolt at any moment, but the funniest thing happened; she didn't. She got this funny look on her face and as though she was sizing me up, processing what I had said, and thinking of her reply all at once. I don't know if I can remember feeling that uncomfortable, yet somehow free to be more than just a 'nice guy' for once. All of the uncomfortableness in the silence melted away when she finally said "Do you want to go for a walk Jem?" I was speechless. "Um...yeah, sure. I would like to do that"...not exactly a great line from a romance novel, but it made her smile.
So, Even though my first reaction to Emma was filled with distrust, self-pity, and a little bit of shame, she somehow saw through that. It was as if she knew exactly how I was feeling and exactly what had happened to me this week. Perhaps, even though we don't share any classes together and have never met, she somehow knew who I was. Well, I didn't ask her if she knew Beth or what our relationship is like, but it seemed like for an instant as we were leaving the multi-purpose space (MPS) that she shot a nasty look at someone. I glanced only once in her direction as we were headingout and tried not to look at anything else but the floor. I had decided that I didn't want to even know if she was somehow playinga joke on me or perhaps was sent by someone else to "tease the lonely kid" or "run salt in the loser's wounds". That was what was running through my mind as Emma and I departed the MPS and started heading toward the Arts wing. We walked almost the whole way down the corridor while she told me about how she moved here from Northern California at the beginning of the semester and how small the school was that she went to and how much she misses it. She also said that her only friend, Jordan, talked her into coming to the dance and how much she dislikes dances, but thought she could meet people, but that everyone seemed to know each other already and that she couldn't get "a word in edgewise" (not sure exactly the meaning there) and how she was really wishing she were back at her old town (Arcata) where right now she would be riding her bike to the beach and wishing she wasn't so alone, when she looked over and saw me. She said "you looked like the only person here more miserable than me", so she decided to meet me even though she was nervous. We stopped at a glass case at the very end of the hall by the art room and she pointed toward a painting of a beautiful, misty beach scene, but didn't say anything about it. I looked and saw her name on a small piece of paper next to it: "Emma Lynn Osterman" and it was simply entitled "Home". I looked at her and said "I like it, it rhymes. Um, your name, I mean". once I stopped studdering a little more about her name, I finally spit out "Your home is really nice". She smiled and then told me about how she drew it from a photograph that she took the day before she left. "Why did you come here?", I asked. She explained that her Step-dad's Dad was really sick and the family decided to move to take care of him. She said that also her real or biological Dad has had trouble finding work and thought a change would be good, so her moved her also with his girlfriend. "What does your Dad do?", I said. "He used to be in construction, but lately he has been making sculptures and a lot of times he has meetings with people about saving trees". This made me perk up even more and I told her that my Dad is trying to save our local rivers and lakes from being bought and drained by the "fat cats". "Well, our Dad's should meet", Emma said and I agreed.
We just walked around the school talking until Principal Preston told us to go back to the dance. I asked her if she wanted to dance and she said "I would love to sometime", just as she noticed a white pickup truck pull up in front of the circle. She gave me one of the best hugs I can ever remember receiving and off she went. She was almost out of sight when she ran back from the truck, which made my heart race even more, and said "Do you need a ride?" "My Dad will be here soon" I said and she ran off again and disappeared into the truck which drove off. I didn't even notice that someone was calling my name from the entry to the MPS. It could have been the music or the thumping of my heart, but the words "Hey Big Sky!" finally broke through. "Hi Beth", I said calmly, "Are you having a fun evening?" "Where have you been all night? I have been looking for you", Beth said. "Oh...I have been seeing the school in a whole different light, Beth", I answered.
"Isolation" means: "far away from other places, buildings, or people; remote" or "having minimal contact or little in common with others". An example of its usage is "The mysterious girl delightfully interrupted my utter isolation".



Isolated Mountain Goat painting by "Nick's Pocket Paintings" myspace site.

Somehow three months have passed again without me updating everyone....

I have gotten a laptop from my parents for my birthday, which was on Dec. 1st, and am in Creative Writing class right now at Ronald Reagan High School typing on it. My small school on Red Hill would have been on break by now and it seems strange to still be in school for another week before Winter break.
So far, my first semester of high school has been really strange and often lonely and uncomfortable. Freshmen are treated badly in most schools, according to Dad, and I just will have to "tough it out". Tom and I hardly speak with one another because he has friends already from being in the district last year for 8th grade and they have convinced him that our small school on Red Hill was for sissies or "hippies" as they call them. I can't even defend that because I am not sure why they would even think that. Mom says that they are just jealous because they had to go to a big school for junior high and only wish that they had gone to a small school that is more "open". I asked her what that meant and she said that I was more "open" to explore things that I liked at the small school and more "open" to be myself overall. I guess I understand now and it just made me wish for that experience again. Mom said that if their was a better option that was "feasible" then her and Dad would send me there, but right now there just isn't unless they want to drive me an hour and a half away, which would be a lot of driving for them everyday.
Some of my fellow students from the Red Hill School are going to that school far away, but they live much closer than I do. Fortunately, a few friends of mine from Red Hill are going to Ronald Reagan High, but some are also being home-schooled. My best friend right now is Beth, who was good friends with Gretchen when she was at Red Hill. Gretchen and I have stopped writing each other and I think Gretchen and her Mom have moved again, so I have lost touch with her almost completely. I feel really sad when I think about it and wish sometimes that somehow she would just show up at my doorstep at the ranch. That seems pretty unlikely though and "its best to move on", Dad says. Beth has not heard from Gretchen either and has moved on quite awhile ago. I wish it were that easy for me, but I guess I was closer to Gretchen than Beth was.
Beth has been growing a lot and looks much different than she did last year at Red Hill. I sometimes feel like the shortest person in the school, even though I know that I am not. Beth and I have been watching a lot of movies lately at my house and often we end up holding hands during the movie. It doesn't quite feel as exciting as it did with Gretchen, but being around Beth makes me feel good. She doesn't make me feel nervous all the time, like when Gretchen and I would hang out alone together. She is my good friend that has never said anything to hurt me or make me mad. Except for that time when she said that I was whining too much about our new school right after she just got done complaining about the cheerleaders. I think she was having a bad day because her cat, Jonas, was missing for three days and she was a little worried. Jonas came back later that day after she got home from school and left an open can of tuna at the back stairs. I have told Beth that Jonas was my inspiration for my short story "JoJo and Brooks" because he is always getting out and rarely comes back clean or smelling like honeysuckle. My Mom calls that cat (and Brooks) "mischievous", which means "causing or showing a fondness for causing trouble in a playful way". I guess I knew most of what that meant, but I didn't realize it was also "playful". I guess there are quite a few kids in my new school that are mischievous and sometimes it seems to be a game for some kids. According to what I read in Grandpa's letters and notes that I read last year, that he was quite a mischievous teenager and often got into trouble. I think I might be ready to share one of those stories soon, but for now I must get to my next class...math. ;(
(I can't believe I just used one of those internet sad faces that give you a neck ache).
Till next time,
The Boy (15 yrs, 2 weeks)


Painting by Pablo Picasso

Hello to my few readers that I still have left. I guess mostly I realized that I was writing this blog for myself anyhow, so I have been handwriting more in my journal instead. That was until a man named Rufus in Little Rock, Arkansas emailed me to ask why I stopped writing in my blog Stories from Lazy Eye Ranch. I tried to explain it to him in an email back and he replied that there are at least a few people that look forward to reading it every week or so and that I should continue just for their sake. I said that I have trouble telling the absolute honest truth if I know people will read it and maybe judge me for what I am thinking and feeling. His last email said that it is always risky opening up your self and revealing your darkest fears, but maybe it will inspire others to do so and then we might all feel a little closer as people. I guess I didn't realize that and maybe took for granite that people don't care that much and maybe are too worried about there own lives to care about my problems. I also thought that maybe it doesn't always need to be about me and I can just go back to telling stories about my late Grandfather and the rest of my family and keep researching until I have a more complete picture of my family's past and current history. Thanks Rufus for helping me to see things differently.

For the past 6 months, I have had some more change in my life. My school was shut down at the end of July and I have just completed my first week at the big school in town, Ronald Reagan High School. It was a difficult first week, but before I talk about that, I want to mention that my Grandma Sylvia is still battling lung cancer and my Mom says that she may not make it to Christmas. I went to visit her in Minnesota last month before I started school and she looked really weakened by the cancer. Mom says that Grandma has always been filled with such creative spirit and that it seems as though that spirit is slowly being drained from her. Mom says that seeing me last month helped her spirit and she noticed an improvement during the week I was there, which made me feel sad that I had to leave, but Mom said that Grandma Sylvia is always 'buoyed' by visiting family and that I should feel good that I made her feel better. I do feel better, but wish there was something more I could do. "We are not medicine men", said Dad, "and even they can only do so much". I guess he is right, but maybe we all have hidden abilities to heal ourselves (and others) that we cannot see. I called Cousin Bruce, the yoga teacher, about this and he said, "That is certainly true and we must learn from and build on what others have already learned". "Like who?" I asked and he replied "Eastern doctors from Asian countries and even some here". "I am tired of feeling like I cannot do anything to help the sick people I love", I said and Bruce seemed to really appreciate hearing this and said after a long pause "Me too, buddy, and the best thing we can do is try to help people live healthier lives to prevent them from getting sick. You can help your Mom and Dad by helping to make their lives less stressful and by helping them to eat better". We then talked about their diet and how bad meat can be for people these days and things like that. I mentioned that I tried not eating meat for a whole day and it was really hard. "I know, Jem", he said, "it is hard to change our everyday habits".
This leads me back to my new school and how everyday at my other school, I was used to certain things that don't happen anymore now. I was used to meeting with my writing teacher and advisor, Mr. Grady, before classes started and talking about current events of the school and things we might cover for the next edition of the paper. I miss going out ontop of the hill during lunch to look at the pastures in the lower valley. I miss having class outside in the sunlight and reading under the big aspen tree during free study time. I miss not being picked on by upperclassman who are trying to impress their girlfriends. Most of all, I miss everyone knowing who I am and being happy to see me. At RRHS, people just look down at me or just ignore me like I don't exist... I am not sure which is worse. I really miss my school.
Dad says that it will take time to get to know people and to find my 'niche'. I thought he said my itch which made no sense, but he had to spell 'niche' for me which means: "a comfortable or suitable position in life or employment." He is now a partner at a leading law firm and feels he has found his niche. By the way, 'buoyed' means: "cause to become cheerful or confident." The party was buoyed by an election victory.
So, tomorrow I start my second week of public school and I have decided to write about the experience on this blog and to help me bridge the gap between the two very different places and the two very different experiences. Maybe in the end this blog might make a good case for them to re-open my school or one just like it.
jem


Painting by Diane Weintraub

Happy Spring!

I apologize for not posting in a while but I have been writing letters lately instead. Mostly, I have been writing letters to Gretchen, but more and more she has been taking longer to respond. She doesn't have a computer at home so it is hard to email her.
So, it has been a very fast winter and many things are changing, as usual. Our school is shutting down at the end of the summer trimester. Some kids have already left to go to the school in town. I will also probably start high school in town next year, which makes me sad and upset. Also, with Tom not being at school, it has been hard to find a good friend. I do have some friends, but no one like him. I have a friend who moved here from Germany named Jurgen. Some of Gretchen's old friends, like Beth, are also my good friends. One good thing about going to school in town next year is being able to be in classes with Tom again. Although, now that he has been in a bigger school, he has met more people and we don't get together as often.
My ancestor project is finished and as soon as I get the project back, I am going to post it somehow on my blog, although it is a very big file.

I have learned a lot this year, especially about loss and about death. Sometimes in life bad things happen all at once or one after another and there isn't anything you can do about it. We just found out yesterday that Grandma Sylvia has cancer in her lungs and may need surgery. Mom has been upset all day and she will be flying to Minnesota tomorrow. "It has just been a bad year" said Dad. I asked him if Grandma Sylvia smoked and Mom said that she had a little bit when she was younger, but that she quit during the early 70's. I had an appointment with my counselor, Mr. Todd, this morning and he told me to express how I feel about Grandma Sylvia getting sick and I realized that I felt angry. I said that I didn't know why and he said that maybe I was just upset because of all the change and that people get angry when loved ones are in pain. I said that I wasn't angry about Grandpa dying until weeks after and Mr. Todd said that it was probably because it was a new experience and that it took me awhile to feel all of the other feelings before anger. "And I am skipping those other feelings this time?" I asked. "Yes" said Mr. Todd "and now you know what the end result might be and people often get angry when they have run out of the other feelings." "Like sadness?", I said. "Yes. Sometimes when you have had one traumatic experience after another, one tends to skip right to anger because it is often out of frustration and from being fatigued of being sad" replied Mr. Todd. "I see", I said. I told him that I am angry because Mom is upset and that she already feels bad because she is so far away from Grandma. "And you already saw how your Grandpa's death affected your Dad". I nodded and then stopped to ask him what "trauma" means and he told me. "Trauma" is "a deeply distressing or disturbing experience". I decide to list all of the synonyms because most of the words have been used by someone in my family at one time or another this year.
(shock, upheaval, distress, stress, strain, pain, anguish, suffering, upset, agony, misery, sorrow, grief, heartache, heartbreak, torture; ordeal, trial, tribulation, trouble, worry, anxiety; nightmare, hell, hellishness)
Now I understand that if one were surrounded by these words time after time that they would eventually feel angry rather than sad. But now it is Spring and Spring is the season of new hope. I hope that my school somehow stays open. I hope that my trip to Catalina Island next week will bring us all great joy (and that we see some dolphins). I hope that Grandma Sylvia gets better and that her medicine works well. I hope that Mom feels better and that she finds some moments to enjoy seeing her family despite the tough time. I hope that I feel less angry about life and death and the pain that it causes loved ones. I hope to never lose hope.


Picture by Alicia Ruhl and Jason Marrano

Jo Jo and Brooks

by Jem Big Sky III

Part Three
Dave and Jo Jo waited outside the bakery for nearly 10 minutes while the firefighters arrived. Jo Jo grabbed one of them by the sleeve and said "My cat is inside!" "Where? What! A cat?" said the firefighter. "He follows me to work and when the alarm...he is in an air vent!" Jo Jo said quickly. "Alright" the firefighter replied and then ran towards the bakery.
Several minutes went by and it appeared the fire was nothing more than smoke. The firefighters were starting to come out of the bakery one at a time and it seemed some of them weren't even dirty. None of them had Brooks in their arms and they were starting to take off their masks. Jo Jo asked each of them if they had seen a cat and one of them, a rather large man, replied, "A cat? No we didn't see no cat." Jo Jo started to make his way back inside the bakery when he was stopped by what looked like the oldest firefighter and was told that he couldn't go back inside yet. "Are you the guy who lost his cat inside?", asked the older firefighter. "Yes" said Jo Jo as he tried to explain how it had happened. The man, who turned out to be the firefighter captain, told Jo Jo that they would be checking all parts of the building to assess the damage and that they would look out for Brooks. The firefighter then wanted to know who was working in the oven room when the fire started and Jo Jo just shrugged and was clearly distracted by what the other firefighters were doing inside the bakery. "I am sorry, but I was on a break when the alarm went off", said Jo Jo finally.
Jo Jo joined Dave on the curb outside and while Jo Jo continued to worry, up walked another co-worker, named Harry, who started talking about the fire and how it started and that it was no one's fault and so forth. Dave and Harry kept talking while Jo Jo was looking at the smoldering building. He wondered about a lot of things, about his previous pet, a dog named Simon, who was killed by a car. He wondered if maybe he wasn't a very good pet owner and shouldn't be in charge of another living thing, which ironically is what his father told him after all his goldfish died one summer day. After that, his father wouldn't allow any more pets because of Jo Jo's knack for losing or killing them on accident. Jo Jo would find stray pets and bring them in the house to hide from his father, but usually they would soon stray again. Sometimes, Jo Jo would find frogs, but would forget to put the lid on the jar and they would jump out. One ended up in his father's cereal by accident and Jo Jo was instantly blamed for the incident.
Jo Jo's mind was wandering some more when Harry asked him "Did you leave any valuables in the bakery?" Just as Jo Jo was about to tell Harry, the bakery's biggest gossip, about Brooks, Jo Jo looked in the tree on the side of the parking lot and saw what he thought was a squirrel and continued telling Harry about how his cat followed him to work and ended up running into a vent. "Your cat?" asked Harry, in almost a mocking tone. "Yes" said Jo Jo, when suddenly there seemed to be a commotion in the same tree and a couple of birds took flight when all of a sudden a cat jumped out of the tree in a leap towards the flying birds, but ended up landing on the grass empty handed. "Its Brooks!" shouted Dave.


Painting by Eileen Mosca

Jo Jo and Brooks
by Jem Big Sky III

Part Two
Nobody noticed a frightened, but excited Brooks peeking through the opening of the red cooler and Jo Jo put the cooler under the bench where he usually set aside his lunch. Luckily for Jo Jo, Brooks had a barely loud enough to hear squeak for a meow and only occasionally heard a faint noise coming from his red cooler. The receptionist, Donna, walked by Jo Jo’s cooler right before going to the restroom and thought she heard a squeak, but just thought it was her new shoes and kept walking. During lunch, Jo Jo fed pieces of turkey through the opening of the cooler for Brooks and took him outside to the back of the bakery, near the railroad tracks to let him go to the bathroom. At first Brooks was frightened by his unfamiliar surroundings, but he decided to stick his head out, then his neck, front legs, and finally his backside. He roamed around the place where empty bread trays are placed and eventually found enough soft dirt to dig into. Jo Jo looked at the large puffy clouds in the sky and thought about his mother who lived far away and about his brother Theodore who moved back to Europe to “find his roots”. He thought many things and then looked at some of his co-workers through a window and realized that they were all going back to work, so he thought that he’d better go too. So, Jo Jo grabbed Brooks and put him into the cooler and went back to finish preparing the trays for the next batch of muffins.
Jo Jo found it surprising that Brooks would be as comfortable as he was with his new “home”, but thought maybe Brooks would jump out and break a health code violation or two, but he didn’t and even fell asleep right before it was time for Jo Jo to go home.
On the way home, Brooks pushed open the lid a little more and peeked his head out just enough that Jo Jo’s neighbor, Cindy, saw Brooks and shouted “What’s your cat doing in there?” “this is my new cat carrier”, said Jo Jo as he just giggled quietly to himself.
The next morning, Jo Jo made sure he left Brooks inside the house, but somehow, as he usually does, Brooks found a way out and followed Jo Jo to work again. Jo Jo just could not believe it and still doesn’t know how Brooks gets out. He has checked every window and has even locked the bathroom door in case he found a way out through the air vent. Jo Jo emptied out the cooler once again, placed his pastrami sandwich in his coat pocket and put Brooks in the cooler. Brooks was now able to keep the lid open with one of his paws and by poking his head out just enough.
It wasn’t long before someone at the bakery noticed Brooks and Jo Jo’s friend, Dave almost choked on his raisin clump when he noticed him on his lunch break. He said that Mrs. Beckley better not see Brooks or Jo Jo will get in trouble. Jo Jo told Dave about his problem and Dave responded with “Brooks just doesn’t like staying home, does he?” “No” said Jo Jo, “When he was a kitten, he got stuck in a hole in the screen door while trying to get out”. “Have you checked to see that all the screens are fastened tightly on the windows?”, asked Dave. “Well, not really, but I haven’t seen any open when I am at home.” Dave and Jo Jo both just shrugged their shoulders and then, without warning, the fire alarm went off really loudly, which startled Dave, Jo Jo and especially Brooks, who jumped out of the cooler and ran down the hallway of the break room towards Mrs. Beckley’s office. Jo Jo got up quickly like a father whose child has run into the street. “Brooks!” said Jo Jo, as if it were possible to yell and whisper at the same time. Brooks darted through an opening in an air vent and ran inside. Just as Brooks was out of sight, Mrs. Beckley came out of her office shouting “Everyone get outside through the emergency exit door!” and just then both Dave and Jo Jo, who were trying to gather Brooks, were told by the security guard, Mr. Rosewood, t turn around because the exit is the other way. “But…” started Jo Jo, when Dave grabbed his arm and started him going towards the exit. It was obvious to both of them that this was not a drill because there was a strong smell of smoke coming from the oven room. “But Dave…” shouted Jo Jo. “I know…” said Dave, “Brooks is still inside!” yelled Jo Jo, as the two made their way outside. “Hopefully, Brooks’ knack for getting outside will save him”, said Dave. “I hope so.” Replied Jo Jo in a weeping voice.

Happy New Year 2007!!!
Here is a story I have been writing during winter break:

Jo Jo and Brooks
by Jem Big Sky III

Part One
Once there was a man named Jo Jo who had a cat named, Brooks. Jo Jo, or Johannes Johannson, which was the name he was born with, often liked to take walks around his neighborhood. One dayhe realized as he turned around that his cat, Brooks, was following him down the street. He picked up Brooks and brought him back to his house, while Brooks voiced his unhappiness at being picked up. This routine went on for a couple of weeks until finally Brooks stopped following Jo Jo and Jo Jo almost wished when he turned around that he would see Brooks. He got used to seeing his cat following him and it had become part of his daily routine.
Jo Jo worked at the bakery where the local bread was made and had to get up early to go to work. When it became winter, he would be walking to work in the dark, when one day he got to work and realized as the sun was coming up, that his cat, Brooks, had followed him and he had not noticed it. Jo Jo became nervous because he didn’t have time to walk Brooks all the way home. So, he thought quickly about what to do. He thought about hiding him in a closet at work, but worried that someone would find him, like the janitor, and would chase Brooks away.
Jo Jo picked up Brooks and started to walk towards the bakery when he suddenly had an idea. He put his small red lunch cooler down and emptied out his turkey sandwich and the bag of ice, along with the package of peanut butter cookies that had been given by his neighbor, Cindy. He put his cat in the cooler and closed the lid. He then realized that Brooks would not be able to breath if he kept him in there. So Jo Jo took out his pocket knife and after pulling out a confused Brooks from the cooler, he started poking holes through the lid with the knife. He began to realize that he was ruining his only lunch cooler so he quickly stopped.
Jo Jo thought maybe the two holes would be enough if he left the lid partially open also. Suddenly, he looked at his watch and realized that he had three minutes to go another block and a half to work, so he put Brooks in the partially-opened cooler, put his lunch in his jacket pocket and jogged his way to the Bakery.

Hello to the whole world from "the Boy"!

I know it has been a while since I have written, but I went through some tough times and I gave up writing for awhile, which made my teachers a little upset. My new counselor, Mr. Todd, gave me some advice to start expressing my feelings by writing, but not showing it to anyone. So for awhile I followed exactly what he said. This was after I came back from a shortened trip to writing camp. Dad had to pick me up early because I was so upset about Grandpa and Gretchen that I wrote some things that made some people worried about me so they called my dad. I guess after that I felt really bad about everything, including my writing and school and didn't want to do anything. My parents decided to send me to counseling and that didn't work because I wouldn't say anything to Mrs. Birch, so I stopped going. Dad kept me home from school for one whole week in October and allowed me to sleep a lot and to watch the leaves fall off the trees at our ranch. Some people said that my parents were being silly, but he let me anyways and even let me watch a lot of t.v. After my week off, Dad told me about this new counselor, Mr. Todd, and how he helped Dad's friend David's daughter Wendy after her Mom died. So, I started going to see Mr. Todd and he got me writing again to myself and then finally said that I should write to other people.
Losing people that you love is really hard and that part of you that was changed because of those people also goes away. Losing Grandpa Jem made me empty because everyday I looked forward to talking to him and even though he was sometimes too tired he would always tell me a story or ask about my life or just make me laugh. What hurt more was that when Gretchen moved away, I didn't have Grandpa to talk to and to get advice from to make me feel better. It hurt like nothing I had ever felt before and I just didn't know how to feel better. Dad says that it is also a tough time because my body is changing too and that it was a bad time for my "whole world to change" too. What made matters worse is that Tom's parents took him out of our school and have sent him to school in town back in September. They thought Tom wasn't learning anything and even though he didn't want to leave he had no choice. I might end up joining him someday soon because I guess some people in town want to shut down my school and there is a lot of stressed out people coming in and out of the school lately. Mr. Grady won't tell me much, but he and other teachers have said that we should all write down exactly everything we are learning so we can prove to those people in town that are school is good and that we are all learning a lot. Somebody said it is because our math scores are low and that proves we aren't learning anything. That made me mad because what I learn at school goes way beyond Math. I am learning so much about how to be a good writer and Dad says that they don't really seem to care how great I write a story just "how well I can read directions and follow them". I said that Math is hard "because the directions don't make sense".
Anyway, if I had to go to the big school in town, I would be really unhappy and now because of that I really love going to my small school again and have met some new friends and will be going to Death Valley next month and to Catalina Island in the spring. I love field trips and wish I could go somewhere every week!
Well I guess things could be better, but I have learned lately that they can always be worse. So, I must go for now and work on my fractions.
Till next time,
Jem Bigsky III