Eighth-grader Emma is the tallest person in her class. While she used to be into sports in a big way, now that she's hanging out with her new best friend, other things have become more important -- like clothes and makeup and fitting in. When Emma gets roped into volunteering for the girls' volleyball team, she feels the urge to play again. First, though, she'll have to overcome her fear of what her new friends will say if she does.
[Fry reading level - 3.1
Eighth-grader Emma is the tallest person in her class. While she used to be into sports in a big way, now that she's hanging out with her new best friend, other things have become more important -- like clothes and makeup and fitting in. When Emma gets roped into volunteering for the girls' volleyball team, she feels the urge to play again. First, though, she'll have to overcome her fear of what her new friends will say if she does.
[Fry reading level - 3.1
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Overview
Eighth-grader Emma is the tallest person in her class. While she used to be into sports in a big way, now that she's hanging out with her new best friend, other things have become more important -- like clothes and makeup and fitting in. When Emma gets roped into volunteering for the girls' volleyball team, she feels the urge to play again. First, though, she'll have to overcome her fear of what her new friends will say if she does.
[Fry reading level - 3.1
Product Details
ISBN-13: | 9781459405295 |
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Publisher: | James Lorimer & Company Ltd., Publishers |
Publication date: | 09/18/2013 |
Series: | Lorimer Sports Stories Series |
Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
Format: | eBook |
Pages: | 120 |
File size: | 520 KB |
Age Range: | 7 - 10 Years |
About the Author
STEVEN BARWIN is a television writer who has written for such shows as John Woo's television series Once a Thief; The Royal Canadian Air Farce; and Street Cents. He is also a middle school teacher in Thornhill, Ontario.
Read an Excerpt
AN EMPIRE FOUND
By Leslie Morris
Trafford Publishing
Copyright © 2014 Leslie MorrisAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4907-2206-1
CHAPTER 1
There was a time in my life when I thought there was no stopping me. I was going to be somebody, "A Star". I had a talent for entertaining. Not great, but good. I had the looks, the voice, charisma, confidence and boy, could I wow the crowd. I even had fans, signed autographs, guys even fought over me, both men and women bought me drinks or asked me to go on dates, been invited to parties and even sang a song that was played on the radio. I was in a rock band in the 80's, performed in clubs of all places, Hollywood. If you weren't any good, believe me, the people there would make sure you knew it.
Every musician in our band was awesome. I sincerely mean it. Everyone had raw, natural talent. I am still ever so proud to have been a part of the group. We were called, "Empire".
I brought this part of my life up first for this when I thought I was at my best. Not for a possibility of an up and coming success in my career at the times but for me as a whole person, mentally and physically. All that I have learned and taken in and molded myself from childhood up until my early 20's, you could say it was a time of euphoria for me.
No one could tell me anything negative and I would adhere. I was a positive person, open-minded, outgoing, and outspoken, never loss grip of reality, still had a pleasant personality, and what we would say in Hawaii, had lots of "Aloha". As far as physically, well, for someone who battled with having had Hodgkin's disease, I was fit. I didn't look to bad either.
Nothing could go wrong, I was a happy camper. I thought, this is it, I've already been through the hardest part of my life and now I am living and feeling blissfully happy. Little did I know, my life was really just beginning. That this age of Aquarius for me would be short lived. That I, yes I, would lose my very self, literally.
I thought that this Empire would never again be found.
My fondest memories of my early childhood years were when my parents would take my sisters, Kathy and Charlene and I walking along Waikiki beach. We would go usually in the evening when the sun was setting and oh the colors of the sky would be breathtaking. Like paint splashed on a canvas, sometimes pink and blue, orange and red. What a beautiful sight to see my parents holding hands. My parents would stop and sit for a while, not saying a word, just looking out at the calm rolling waves of the peaceful sea. My sisters and I would be playing with the sand making sand pies or chasing after little crabs.
How I loved when we would go to the park and my father would grab hold of our hands and one by one, spin us around. I can remember laughing and getting so dizzy and seeing how my father smiled and laughed and I wishing this moment would never end.
My father, Herbert L. Morris, would work very long hours at Dillingham Shipyard as a painter and sandblaster. So time spent with him was precious. My mother, Jane Belford Morris, was a homemaker. She is also a deaf and mute person. Even with her disability she took great care of us. But for some reason I was not close to her for she especially favored my sister Kathy. None the less, I still loved her.
One weekend we went camping at Waimanalo beach with my two older brothers from my father's first marriage, Herbert and Billy, and their wives and children. Imagine having nieces and nephews about my age. We all got along and loved each other. At this time I think I was about 4 years old. I remember waking up the next day smelling the ocean, for some reason I still like smelling the sea air, and hearing the crashing of waves. My father and brothers were having their cups of coffee and talking stories, my mother and sister in laws, Juanita and Marlene making breakfast and all the kids just waking up. It was a day I would never forget.
It should've been a day you would think of a family having fun in the sun, kids splashing in the water, the men fishing, the women lounging around, gossiping and soaking up the sun. We were having a grand time.
I never dreamed or even knew what horror felt like. That very day, I did.
No one took notice or questioned when my mother took hold of my hand and motioned to me in sign language that we were going walking, just she and I. I of course didn't think nothing of it. We walked quite far, far enough that I could not see the camp. Then my mother motioned to me that we were going to swim. I did not know how to swim yet so I would just hang on to her. She was a good swimmer and liked to go far out and so we did. Then all of sudden she just let go of me.
I didn't understand what was happening. Why was she swimming away from me ? I started kicking my feet, flailing my arms, gulping in the salty water as the ocean engulfed me completely. I struggled to get my head above water and I cried out to her even though she could not hear me and thought what did I do. The deep blue sea pulled me under once again, and this time I did not fight it. I succumbed to the darkness. I don't know how long it was but my mother came, grabbed hold of me and swam back to shore. While my mother was swimming back, I remember crying and thinking that this was a bad thing. I was scared of her and I was going to tell my daddy. From that day on I never felt the same towards her, I felt not safe with her and that she does not love me. I did not like feeling that way, I loved her so much.
When we got back to camp I was crying and as best I could, told my dad what happened. I remembered the look on his face like he was confused. I went into the tent and cried myself to sleep.
That evening, I woke up because I felt wet. I looked around and the floor of the tent had water everywhere because it was storming. Rain was pouring heavily, thunder clashing and lightning slashing in the night sky. We packed up our belongings. It was a scary drive home, my father could hardly see for the rain was coming down hard. My very though that night was God must really be angry. I thought maybe God was mad at my mom.
Soon after that day I had to have an operation done on my left ear for I had a bad infection from taking in so much water. To this day I still have problems and hard of hearing in that ear.
It would be years that I could handle being under water, even taking a shower and washing my hair would make me panic every time. I still can't swim well and I cannot touch the bottom I will not go no further.
Kindergarten 'til the eighth grade, I went to Sacred Hearts Convent School. It was a beatific place. It was made up of white- washed walls, polished stone flooring, solemn looking statues all over the courtyards and well-manicured lawns. There were fruit trees, a large playground, a little chapel and a stream that went along the side of the school. The nuns that lived and taught there kept the school in pristine condition.
Although it was an all-girl school, I loved it there. I was a very good student.
In the six grade, the principle wanted to move me up a grade but I did not want to. I thought the older girls were mean, besides I would miss my friends terribly. Once, I got hit on the knuckles with a ruler, not for being disruptive but for daydreaming and did not hear the teacher calling on me.
My art teacher was Sister Florenstine, I would never forget her. She was a very short, stout woman with skin white as snow, rosiest cheeks that made her look like she was always blushing from embarrassment, twinkling blue eyes and she spoke with a very thick French accent. She once asked the class is any one French or part French. I raised my hand. She then said please come after school and take classes in learning the French language. So I did for a while. I enjoyed it but then I started wanting to have fun and play with my friends instead of learning more. I wish I never gave up, her eyes did not twinkle that day instead they were glassy like two ponds that had frozen over when she learned of my wish. I wanted to kick myself. That day, I did not feel like playing.
One day after school me and my sisters arrived home to find the police there. We were robbed. My mother was crying and my father was talking to the policemen. Our apartment was in disarray, food from our refrigerator were thrown about the floors, clothes all over the place, and our bible had a gash on the front cover. The television set that my dad just bought a couple days before was taken and I don't know what else was missing. I cried and could not believe this happened to us. We did not have much in material things, cardboard boxes were dressers, we went to a good school but rich, I assure you we were not. I remembered thinking poor daddy, he worked so hard to give what little he could. The intruders left no finger prints, the windows and the front door lock was not broken. It did not look like forced entry. Someone used a key.
Little did I know that most boys like big boobies. I remember one time one of my sisters wished she did not have big ones because the boys would stare at her. So, I kept praying to God not to let mines get so big like my sisters. Guess what! My prayer was answered. Today as an adult I honestly can say "What on earth was I thinking!"
I was a tomboy. I did not like playing with girls in the neighborhood much. I enjoyed playing with boys more.
Playing football, boxing, skateboarding, rollerskating and sliding down the river on slimy moss and catching tadpoles. Too many times fathers' of the boys I played with, would complain to my dad that I was a little rough on their sons. There was this time when one of my neighbors' sons who, mind you was taking Kung Fu lessons! He decided to use a whip on me I told him you'll be sorry if you do. So he did, when he struck at me I caught it and kept wrapping it around my arm pulling him towards me close enough for me to punch him square in the face. He went home crying and screaming in chinese to his mother. I don't know what he said but his mother yelled at my father. Dad confronted me in front of them, asked if I punched him, I answered yes and tried to explain how it started. Dad did not give me a chance, he embarrassed me right in front of them. He slapped my face. I did not cry but my heart broke, I couldn't understand for he was a fair man and rarely spanked us. Even my sisters would say I was his pet. Oh sure that slap stung me but I would not give my neighbors the satisfaction of seeing me cry and flee. My dad never said sorry even in the privacy of our home. In my heart I knew he wished he had not done it. My father never said a word to any one that evening. I started playing with the girls, I figured I would get into less trouble.
Growing up with my sisters was not so easy. Being that my mother was deaf and mute and my father was working long hours, I'd assume the role as a parent. I was my mother's voice. Charlene was the youngest so she was not so bad. But Kathy was the rascal one. Kathy and I did not get along too well. Boy, did we have some catfights. I recall once, we fought physically and since she could not beat me up she had gotten a kitchen knife and threw it at me. She did not believe her eyes nor did I, but I caught it by the handle with the blade in front of my face. She ran so fast out of the house.
The funniest moment I recall as a child was one day I was so fed up with my sisters that I made a sign out of a cardboard box and written in crayons I wrote "Two sisters for sale!" and I stood outside on the sidewalk where cars were passing by. I still laugh about it.
As a wee little child up until I was 13 yrs. old I had been to a lot of funerals from family, friends, people I did not know to old distant and close relatives. So going to funerals was like something that was not out of the ordinary, it was a part of life. It never really hit me, how I never would get to see them again, I never really lost some one that close to me to have the feeling of something empty inside me ... Then, my dear brother Billy died. His mother came to our home and broke the news to us. Oh God, how we were devastated. My mother cried so hard for she loved him like he was her son, my father was so full of rage and my sisters and I took it hard as well. We all left to Kaimuki to my brother Billys' house to comfort his wife and his children. We gathered in the living room to watch the late news. Then they showed him in the very car my father gave him, it was a green dodge, he was lying in the backseat with a gun in his hand. He was shot in the head. The car was parked at the old Pali road. The news said it was suicide. No comment ... All I know is that he was such a handsome man, big and full of muscles, he was such a strong man and he had lots of friends. He was a good father to his children and husband, son and brother. We loved him so. My heart still aches when I think of him. His dear wife Juanita never remarried for she would always say no one could ever replace my Billy. Losing my brother was The most saddest moment of my young life.
The year of 1978, of which was one of the most saddest time of my life when my brother Billy passed away. That year was also one of the happiest times of my youth. I was thirteen and I experienced my first crush. My family and I would play bingo from time to time at Kakaako Holy Ghost. A place where Portuguese people would hold bingo games, have processions, dances, singing, gatherings. My dad thought it would be a great idea for my sisters and I to join the dance group. Not only to embrace our Portuguese heritage but do something positive with other children and have fun at the same time.
The dance instructor, Mrs. Carreira gathered all the dancers. I don't know how my sisters felt while we were being introduced, but I was scared out of my mind, wondering if I looked funny or can I even dance and yet I was anxious to be a part of something like a team. First, the girls were introduced they looked friendly enough and then ... the boys. All it took was one look, I could not hear anything around me, time stood still. I've never understood what I was thinking or feeling at that very moment but when I saw this very handsome boy the first thing that came to my mind was I could be with him for the rest of my life. His name was Eugene. We became dance partners and then he asked me to be his girlfriend. Who would've thought, I who always felt like an ugly duckling and was a tomboy. We were inseperable. He was my first love, shared my first kiss, first for everything even first heartache. Our puppy love lasted a couple of years. But that would not be the last of him.
Highschool was a blast. My favorite subjects were English and Acting class. The one thing I wish I did not do so much was getting stone. My boyfriend at the time was Robert. We smoked marijuana before, during and after school. But no regrets we had fun. Just wish I had better grades and stayed awake for most of my classes. I did excel in Acting class and acted in plays even a fellow friend and classmate name Susan told me that I was the most believable actor on stage. I was honored at that remark. In my senior year I entered a beauty pageant for 1983 Miss Teen Hawaii. It was an interesting experience and I made friends. I did not take my so-called beauty seriously so I goofed around. I did not win the title Miss Teen Hawaii but I was blown away when I won Miss Congeniality award. It was the girls who voted who wins this award. I was greatly honored to be the recipient. I have also done some modeling for a boyfriend of mine name Brandon aka Earl of Model Dynamics International. I was no Tyra Banks but once I got paid the highest compliment from Maurice Damien owner of one of the top hair salons in Hawaii. He told everyone that one night after a show while viewing the footage, he said watch the way she walks that is how you do it.
I took on part-time jobs throughout my highschool years to have extra money. We never had allowances so I pretty much took care of myself.
Surprisingly, June of 1983 I graduated from Mckinley Highschool. That day was of mixed emotions for me. I was happy that I made it, I survived school and glad that I experienced all I had been through and done in school. At the same token, I felt such great sadness for none of my family was there not even my parents. Only my friend Earl was there for me. I had put on a smile anyway, but throughout the ceremony I felt like crying. All I could do from falling a part, was to keep thinking oh yeah, I am going to have a good time tonight with my friends.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from AN EMPIRE FOUND by Leslie Morris. Copyright © 2014 Leslie Morris. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing.
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