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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1852310-Amy-Dolan-and-the-Foghorn-Phantom
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Mystery · #1852310
Amy and her friends may have been greeted by some unfriendly greeters....
This was written by an 11 year old.

I merged up from a deep sleep. The aroma of fresh pancakes sealed the air, as I began the water from the pump. Ol' Larry was hog-tying some cattle near the barn, while Mrs. Keener was picking eggs. The average Saturday morning. The old adobe building out east sat like a stake in a heart, and ran chills down my spine. Oh, where are my manners? I'm little miss Amy Dolan. The 15 year old farmers daughter. Mahogany back-chilling hair, auburn complexion, and a voice that can soothe a symphony of doves. Yep, that's me. Pretty conceited you'll say, but I don't pay you city folk no nevermind. With ya fancy computers, and phones what else do ya got. No friends and no fresh air, no animals on the prairie in the scenery, just lights and things, but back to the basics. I arose from my bed, and continued pumping the water for my bath. I ran to the kitchen to go and greet Maw and Paw. They were too busy fiddling with Avery, the new piglet. Fiona was outback playing with her new Raggedy Ann. It was peaceful. A little too peaceful for a Saturday I'd think, and I was right.

"Amy, be a dear and go turn the kettle off," my Maw asked me tenderly.

"Sure," I replied as I steadily closed the the lid to the old pot.

"Uncle Vergil has had a litter of fresh pups, yep, pretty hearty one too; 12 little golden retrievers to be exact," Paw hollered to Fiona.

"Well that's wonderful. Only Bell could pump out such a successful litter." Maw added.

"The poor girl has had enough though, high time to slow her down," Maw settled as she sat the piglet down ever so gently on the straw crate bedding.

"So Amy, like I was saying Uncle Vergil has been having some problems down at the ranch. He claims that some old maid has been down there mutiple times blowing a foghorn and then disappearing into the mist," Paw said uneasy. "He said he would pay 2 acres of his land to us if you could help him solve the mystery," He finished quickly.

"Oh, well I hardly reckon any given plans this week so maybe we could give it a roll, and....... oh my water!" I yelled rushing off into my room. "I left the pump runnin', we a flooding!"

Chapter 1

Drenched in a smock of aqua, Fiona and I began to tassle up some rags from underneath a box. Maw and Paw began the buckets and pulling tassles. Avery is even helping by slurping up a drink or two. Under a slew of papers, a ring sits like placed with perfection. My heart ices. I slide the ring carefully and lose all contact to the outside world.



























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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1852310-Amy-Dolan-and-the-Foghorn-Phantom