This is the first in a series of seven adventures taken by the Holland family. Meet Moe the oldest son, Charlie his younger brother, their mother Rose Holland and Russell the boys' father as they being as prepared as they felt they could be, the Holland's step from their backyard into the unknown with no ceremony at all. Note from the author: I am always amazed by the candid bravery of the Hollands. They are a storybook family, yet, still, I think of them as my own. Their blithe acceptance of the presenting circumstances while continuing to keep possession of their human concerns is a goal I set myself and hope to achieve, work toward achieving, pray to achieve. If you want it; I wish it for you, too. I hope that as you travel with us through this first of the Hollands' Adventures you will grow to care about and admire everyone as much as I do.
Sherrie gives an overview of the book:
The note said, “COME HOME!” Mom had written nothing else.
Moe approached the captain about leave and sent a telegram to his brother to coordinate departure for home. The return voyage was filled with wild curiosity and a bit of fear. Mother would not have sent for them unless something of great event had occurred. Although the boys knew that if something tragic had happened, Mom would have elaborated in her note, still, prickles of wary apprehension tingled both their spines a bit.
“COME HOME,” said Charlie; “do you think she could have spared the ink to fill us in?”
“You know Mom, Charlie, she is nothing if not succinct, but I’m with you. I want more than just, COME HOME, too,” responded Moe.
Upon arrival, Moe and Charlie understood clearly why COME HOME was all that could be said. How could anyone put in writing that there is a tear in the fabric of reality right in the backyard? But there it was and as Mom and Dad explained, it was getting bigger all the time. What Mom had assumed was a smudge on her glasses, which she just happened to notice while hanging the laundry, turned out to be a slit in the yard. As if someone had pulled threads in the movie screen so you could see the field behind the drive-in, there was a backdrop behind the normal realm of suburban life and Mr. and Mrs. Holland were catching a glimpse of it.
At the time of Moe and Charlie’s arrival at 210 Sunny Skies Way, the backyard had a gapping 10 by 12 foot hole. The place beyond had its own weather; there was a set of raised railroad tracks leading to the clothesline area; there was water on either side of the raised tracks and in the distance a castle peeked through the clouds. Mother and Dad had decided to resist temptation and not step onto the tracks for fear they might be unable to return and thus have the boys come home at the end of the summer to an empty house and no explanation. Now that they were all together, options and possibilities, fears and fantasies galloped through their conversations. Should they travel in, notify people in town, ignore the whole thing, sit at the edge and see if anything came out, throw stones, fly kites, or erect signs in the yard? The choices were many and varied but what to do? Sleep seemed the prudent thing to do for now. With assurances from their parents that nothing, so far, had happened on any of the previous nights that they had closed their eyes to this vent into the unknown, they all went to bed.
On waking, the family saw there was a clear plan of action. During the night, a sailing railcar had appeared on the tracks replete with four seats. There seemed to be intention to the placement of transportation. And its appearance the day the boys had returned from abroad felt like a good omen to Mr. Holland. The tear seemed less random and more purposeful. The only real questions the Holland’s had for one another was what to pack?
What they might need was a mystery. What might be needed by what ever was drawing them there was an even greater question. Russell Holland, being a wonderfully practical man, packed every adjustable hand tool he could find and six kinds of tape. Rose packed a picnic lunch plus all the staples she could manage into her basket. Then she found her favorite valise and packed sundries and sleep wear. Charlie packed and re-packed his rucksack, satisfied only when he felt he could carry it comfortably, yet still feel equipped to help with a few inspired supplies. Moe packed dry socks; this had been the greatest tip he had learned while onboard ship this foreshortened summer.
Arriving together in the kitchen, they ate a hearty, though anxious, breakfast. Now, being as prepared as they felt they could be, the Holland’s stepped from their backyard into the unknown with no ceremony at all. One foot in front of the other and there they were on the tracks, the water around them rippling in an unusual pattern. The air seemed a bit more moist than in the yard though the yard was but feet away. The clouds, which now hung overhead, had a tint, an indescribable shade not ominous, but unfamiliar nevertheless.
“I don’t know what is different about this sky but I like it,” said Rose Holland.
“I think the clouds are rolling,” said Charlie.
“My, my, they sure are,” said Dad.
“Wow, wow, wow,” said Moe on an inhale with his head tilted all the way back to face to the sky. The sail on the car gave a tiny flap as a puff of wind passed them.
“We had better get on,” said Dad. “It seems our wind has arrived.”
Sherrie Theriault writer and outsider artist lives in northwest New Jersey where she writes villain-free fiction for children, creates coloring books for all ages, writes daily inspiration books for the recovery community and has other works of collected poetry.
Books available on Amazon.com include the following:
Can you See?
The Holland’s Adventure,
Fill Me In
Fill Me In, too
Sober on the Way to Sane,
More Sober on the Way to Sane,
My Sponsor Said…
One-Liners to Live By
Elissa: Queen of Carthage
Order of Protection
Was Love Lost
The Deep Dark Day In
What the Birdies Told Me About You
Sober on the Way to Sane, Fill Me In and Was Love Lost are also available at Blue Stockings, Manhattan, NY. You can find Sherrie’s art work at Hang-Ups Gallery in Allentown, PA or online at SerendipitousGallery.com Please feel free to contact her there if you have any questions.
Sherrie Theriault writer and outsider artist lives in northwest New Jersey where she writes villain-free fiction for children, creates coloring books for all ages, writes daily inspiration books for the recovery community and has other works of collected poetry. Books...