Tales of a boy and his magic
Hi, my name is Leonard and this is how I discovered magic or really how magic discovered me.
My mom was making me help clean out a storage locker that belonged to my grandmother. I never really got to know her before she died. She didn’t live near us. I hated cleaning it. It was full of bugs and spiders and weird objects that I had no clue what they were that is until I saw the small trunk. Mom had told me I could have one thing from the locker and I wanted this trunk. It looked like it had belonged to a pirate and knowing what mom and dad had said about the family’s history it might have.
Mom took it home and dad took the lock off for me and they left me to my imagination with it. I was almost too excited to open it. Could it be treasure? An old diary? Or was it just filled with old newspapers and hair pins like the dresser we found? I sat there in front of it just thinking. Finally I opened it slowly. At first I thought it was just full of old cloth and nothing else but then I started rooting around under the cloth and found a stick. It was a strange stick that had some carving on it and it made me want to hold it. I could see my grandmother’s face when I was holding it and thought that was a bit strange but nothing else.
Mom yelled upstairs that it was time to go to bed so I closed the lid and got ready. I put the stick on the table by my bed and got in. I love my bed so it wasn’t a problem. It has lots of heavy covers that make you feel all warm and safe once your in and with a lamp by my bed I can read before I’ m sleepy but I got in and grabbed the stick and looked at it closely in the light. It had little vines carved in it and tiny mushrooms and what looked like people’s faces but the more you stared at the faces the harder they were to see. I rubbed my eyes and stared again. It was no use. I just couldn’t see them more clearly. I gave up and put it down again and turned off the light and fell asleep.
Maybe I should just introduce myself a bit more, like I said my name is Leonard but my friends call me Nardo. My mom is a big fan of Leonardo Da Vinci and his engineering and my dad let her name me if he got to name the next kid. That’s why my sister’s name was Wyatt after Andrew Wyeth the painter and Wyatt Earp. Poor kid.
I wear glasses and have red hair and I’m short for my age. I always have to be in the front of the class to see. My mom is an architect and my dad is an art history professor at the local college. We live in a college town with lots of old buildings and big trees.
My best friend is a girl when I’m not at school. Melly’s smart and funny and is a bigger geek than me when it comes to books. She’s isn’t afraid of anything and acts more like a guy so it works out. She can throw a dirt clod harder than any one I know.
I’m in the sixth grade and I’m learning to play the trumpet. My sister says if I murder Tijuana Taxi one more time she will have to hurt me but she has to catch me first and her flute playing isn’t much better. Wyatt is in the fifth grade and thinks she knows everything. Maybe she does but I would never tell her that.