Charmaine T. Davis

I am so excited to announce: Thief of Heaven is now here! It can be purchased through Amazon as an eBook and later on Barnes and Noble. A paperback version will be available in June. Read the beginning:

Have you ever stolen anything?

Come on, be honest. Everyone’s stolen something…

A piece of candy…a toy...third base.

How did it make you feel?

Did you like it?

Could you stop?

Or did you have to do it over,

And over,

again?

Like me.

Mama always told me stealing would lead to nowhere. She was wrong…

ONE

WHAT’S YOUR RINGTONE?

I smoothed fuzzy strands of hair back into my equally fuzzy ponytail, enjoying the ridiculous scene bratty Serena Martin was putting on for the class. “I can’t find my phone anywhere. I had it in my satchel and now it’s gone,” she cried, slobbering and boo-hooing all over the place.

Miss Pickerel snorted. “Seventh-graders are not supposed to have cell phones at school.”

“I only turn it on at tennis practice. Daddy expects me to call a few minutes before it’s over.”

“Maybe you left it at home.”

I couldn’t resist the temptation to jump in. “She was showing it off in the girls’ bathroom. Maybe she left it there.”

Serena, her face red and tear-stained, turned on me. “So! I put it back in my satchel.”

I shrugged. What did I care? Anyone calling a back pack a satchel deserved to lose her phone—besides, served her right for bragging.

Serena jiggled like jello. “What am I going to doooooo?”

“Has anyone seen her phone?” No one had. Miss Pickerel huffed, looking very much annoyed. “Could be in the bathroom like Witness said. Come on.” Splaying wide fingers atop her desk, she hoisted herself to her feet. “I expect you guys to be on your best behavior while I’m gone.”

Serena must have really been getting on her nerves to make her get out of that chair. Short, fat and red-headed, she was one teacher who didn’t move unless she had to. The cushion hissed like a 2-liter soda when you opened it too fast. She wobbled out into the hall, followed closely by the weeping Serena.

“Daddy spent a lot of money on my smart phone.” Showed how smart she was for losing it in the first place. Poor little rich brat.

I patted the bulge in my pocket.

Minutes later Miss Pickerel and Serena returned. The teacher eased her apple-shaped frame back into the chair, belching a sigh as the cushion did the same. Serena slumped in her seat; the satchel—excuse me—back pack, dumped out at her feet. Papers and books littered the aisle.

Suddenly, my pocket started vibrating and buzzing. My heart froze. Clawing at my khaki cargo pants, but still trying to remain calm, cool and collected, I tried to shut it off. Unfortunately, it was a new technology I hadn’t mastered—yet. To cover the annoying ring, I dropped some books on the floor and made a whole lot of noise picking them back up.

Serena hopped out of her chair. “My phone! I hear it!”

I covered my pocket with the Algebra book, trying to muffle the sound. Serena sniffed the room, a dog on the scent. Several of her friends joined in the search. Before I knew it, they surrounded me like a school of piranhas.

I was so busted.

“Witness has my phone, Miss Pickerel.”

“No, I don’t.” I stammered.

“Yes, you do.”

“It’s mine.” Nothing to be worried about. Just stay cool.

Serena folded her arms across her flat chest. “You don’t have a phone. Everybody knows you can’t afford one.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “Shows how much you know.” Thankfully it stopped buzzing and made a dinging noise, indicating somebody had left a message.

“Girls, sit down. I’ll handle this.”

The crowd dispersed and old Miss Pickerel lumbered my way. Boom, boom, boom, boom. With each boom, my heart sank until it felt like it was hiding somewhere underneath my Sketcher-like shoes.

She held out a hand. I did the only thing I could do in a situation like this…I ignored her. “Let’s have it, Everhart.” If Miss Pickerel said your last name it only spelled two things—TROUBLE and OFFICE.

Just play dumb and stall like mad. “Have what?”

“Don’t play dumb. Give it to me.”

I shifted a little in the seat. “I don’t have it. It’s mine.”

“Stop lying, Witness.” Serena peeped around Miss Pickerel like she was playing hide-and-seek and Miss Pickerel was the tree trunk.

Miss Pickerel turned, “I can handle this myself, thank you,” she said in that haughty way teachers were so good at.

Slumped in my chair, legs spread out in front of me, I was calm. Only the guilty fidgeted and acted nervous. I had nothing to hide.

All of the sudden, I jerked like the seat of my pants were on fire. My thigh vibrated and buzzed, an eerie blue light flashed through my pants pocket—again. Uh-oh. This time, “Good Ship, Lollipop” played on my leg.

Serena squealed. “Dadddy! That’s my ringtone for Daddy.”

Before I knew what was happening, I was tackled to the ground and my pockets emptied.

Levi Sarkosy.

“Get off me and don’t touch me again, you long-haired little freak,” I cried. He easily side-stepped my mule kicks.

“I’ve got it, Miss Pickerel,” Levi said, holding the phone higher than Lady Liberty’s torch, smirking in triumph. He’d been chosen quarterback for the school’s team and really thought he was hot stuff. I used to think he was kind of cute, but not anymore. All that hair made him look like an ugly girl.

Miss Pickerel yanked it from him. “If I wanted you to get it, I would have told you.”

The phone, swallowed in the depths of Miss Pickerel’s meaty hand, struggled through its song. Serena ran up and snatched it. “Hello? Daddy, sorry about—”

Miss Pickerel grabbed the phone back. “Martin…Office.”

Held hostage inside Miss Pickerel’s hand, a man’s voice cracked, “Serena, honey? Answer me.”

With a touch of the screen, the phone died—finally.

Over the laughter, Serena paused at the door. “Why do I have to go to the office? What about Witness? She’s the one who stole.”

Miss Pickerel swung my way. “Why are you still here, Everhart? Office.”

###

Be sure to join the Eye-Witness Accounts blog at thiefofheaven.blogspot.com!

Blessings,

Charmaine

Charmaine T. Davis

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