STORYBOOK ILLUSTRATIONS

THE NEW BENJAMIN

2012-02-27T15:16:00.000-08:00

Here is the new improved Benjamin and the cover of my new book....Yay!

He now wears aviator goggles which is in the story...enjoy!'
Hope to have the ebook ready any day now...keep your eyes open.

thx for the support, xoxo juner

BENJAMIN GETS A FACE LIFT

2012-02-17T19:02:00.000-08:00

Just a quick update. The manuscript is finished and I am actively seeking a publisher/agent. In the meantime I am putting an ebook together...it's a pain in the butt to say the least...none of this tech stuff is easy. However, I need a cover for the book.
That's when I realized the one I have is simply not the right one anymore. When I first painted Benjamin, he had no home...but now he does and it's in the 21st century! So I am updating his image a bit and creating a new look for our beloved Benjamin. These are just a teaser....the finished product to be released next week...thx for the support!

The Grandfather Tree

Benjamin wearing his aviator googles now...

This is the sketch of the "Lizzie Belle", Pips's Aeroquatic
(and the reason Benjamin is wearing googles...hint hint)

Annabel Wickcliff and Pips

xoxo juner

A CHAPTER OR TWO FROM BENJAMIN McTISH

2011-11-21T19:42:00.002-08:00

I've decided to go ahead and start leaving chapters of my new book for you to read. I am actively seeking a publisher to take this all the way...enjoy! june
ps. please keep in mind that this format messes with the original layout of my manuscript. So some sentences may end in an odd place, etc...just read through the best you can, you'll still get the story.
And please note that this manuscript has been copy written and protected with documentation.

CHAPTER ONE

MYSTERIES

“Well, that’s very odd.”, thought Benjamin. He had never noticed the peculiar looking key, hanging from a very worn and tattered green ribbon, on the rusted nail in the garden shed before. The garden shed was not actually a shed at all. Even though the walls were constructed from very old worn out wood, the interesting element was the glass roof. It was a very unusual version of a greenhouse, and the permanent home of the most rare and beautiful of begonias, grown by his grandmother Emmagene. It also doubled as Benjamin’s secret hideaway.

The design was one of a kind, built by his grandfather, Owen McTish, way back before Benjamin was even born. The wood came from an old torn down barn that was part of an abandoned farm, on the outskirts of town. The remnants of the farmhouse had sat in the big fields on the edge of the Gilly Forest for close to a hundred years or more now. The property was part of a long forgotten estate that had iron clad deeds and legalities making it impossible to tear down. Save for some wood that was sold off at auction, (which was now the main body of structure to the McTish garden shed), along with some rusted antique barnyard equipment, nothing had been touched in all these long years. The passed down rumors of the mysteries surrounding the Chickering farm was still local legend with all the residents, but especially with the children, in the small town of Grandlochcheshire. Now Benjamin was sitting in the garden shed built of the same wood that had housed the infamous Chickerings, all those long years ago, staring at a mysterious key.

Benjamin sat upright from his perch on top of the pile of burlap bags that covered the mound of hay his grandmother stored in the shed for new seedling cover, and stared up in utter disbelief at the mysterious key. His grandmother enjoyed the smell of fresh hay, as it reminded her of her youth on her family’s horse ranch. This resulted in her always keeping much more hay than she truly needed under the burlap, making this a particularly cozy little spot for Benjamin to lounge about. As an added attraction, it also happened to be in direct sight of the door and most of the surroundings, and proved to be the perfect lookout for any uninvited guests.

Benjamin whipped his head around quickly and scanned the shed for any movement...”Nothing out of the ordinary, no one else around, no sounds of any kind.”...he thought to himself. The light coming in from the glass ceiling was soft and dark gray as it was about to rain. This added a touch of anxiety to the moment, as Benjamin’s all too familiar feeling of questioning arose. Everything appeared to look the same as it did every other day that he could remember...”Except for that confounding, and peculiar key!”. The hairs on Benjamin’s arms stood straight up and a flush washed over his entire body and he “knew” something big was about to happen.

Benjamin had the ability to know things that other people never realized. He saw things no one else could see. He knew secrets about people, even before they knew about it themselves. It wasn’t like he could see dead people, or tell you what you had hidden in your pocket, or anything like this. It was more about sensing things. He had gut feelings, but in a bigger more expanded way. He was rather good at telling you when your Aunt Gertie was going to show up at your door, or where to look for the lost cat. However, he was really good at knowing if something was significant or not. If something needed a further or deeper exploration.

It had always been this way for Benjamin. When something was about to occur, he always had a warning it was coming. The hair on his arms stood up and an extremely powerful tingling from the bottom of his toes on up would rush his body. His heart would pound and a little sweat would instantly gather on his face and neck. His breathing would speed up and his eyes would widen in anxious search of the source of his alertness. Many times these sensations came with lightning rapid visions and sounds. And always attached to these pictures was a deeply felt emotion clinging along for the ride.

Benjamin hesitantly turned back around very slowly and stared at the hanging key. He had a very uneasy feeling about this key. In all his years of living with his grandparents he had never seen the key hanging in the shed. Nor, in fact, had he seen its equal or anything remotely close to this anywhere in the whole of the household.

He estimated the key was some where around nine inches in length and looked as old as the hills...”Or the Gilly Forest”, came the distant thought to Benjamin for an unexplained instant. It was intricately designed with marks that Benjamin couldn’t make out from where he was sitting. An impending alarm flooded Benjamin’s mind as he began his slow, concise descent off the mound of burlap covered hay. He inched his way toward the foreign old relic of a key. The key with a worn out tattered green ribbon to match, that hung from an equally rusted old nail pounded soundly into the beam of the garden shed, that was home to Benjamin McTish and all that he knew.

As Benjamin approached the key he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. It was like a magnetic beam was pulling him closer and closer to his target. Benjamin reached up on his toes, and removed the key from its mysterious home on the old nail. The weight of the key surprised Benjamin, he hadn’t expected it to be as heavy as it was. He turned it around and around in his hands, studying every line of the design. When suddenly, by accident, he noticed that at a certain angle when he looked at it almost sideways, there appeared to be ...words!

Words and symbols in some kind of extraordinary language that Benjamin had never seen before. Benjamin’s heart started racing and his breathing grew louder. His eyes widened and he quickly took the key over to the potting bench in the middle of the shed. The bench stood right under the huge expanse of window ceiling and in between two other tables that were filled with pots and dirt. He laid the key on the top near the corner in the strong light of the imminent storm. The eerie cast that the light makes when it is so bright, yet dark at the same time, gave illumination to the key on the table’s edge. The table was a perfect height for Benjamin to scrunch on down with his hands on his knees, at eye level with the key. He marched back and forth, squatting and repositioning himself for every possible discoverable view of this curious, yet enticing relic, without actually touching it. This small yet significant distance gave solace to Benjamin as he went deep into dissecting thought.

Just as he was about to pick up the key to examine it closer for details, the door of the shed flew open! A burst of exuberant and animated voices came at him so fiercely that he jumped from the sudden fright, scratching his shoulder on the edge of the table behind him. “Blast it!” he groaned. And quickly recognizing the voices of his two best mates, Annabel and Mathilda he grabbed the key with stealth speed and put it in his back pocket. He pulled his jumper over the protruding end of the key to cover it and turned around to see what the commotion was about.

There was Annabel in her familiar flower-printed rubber cowboy boots, and her younger sister Mathilda in her ever more familiar lavender tutu, with today’s addition of a yellow, red and green plaid rain slicker and hat. All her wild orange curls were peeking out everywhere around her face, and she held something tightly in her closed up fist. The girls were in the middle of a heavy debate, “....and it always does.”, Mathilda was saying in mid sentence. “That’s not true!” Annabel defended vehemently. “Where do you get these ideas anyway, you’re just too weird for words Tildie? I mean it! You really are starting to bug me. I just wish you would find some friends your own age already, as if anyone would be friends with you, and leave me alone!”, shouted Annabel with force, as she kept walking towards Benjamin.

With this, Mathilda stopped dead in her tracks and looked up as her sister walked away from her. Her eyes began to instantly fill with huge blinding hot tears. Benjamin could see Mathilda beginning to lose it completely and he could also see the rage in Annabel’s trudge towards him. Benjamin made a small gesture with his eyes for Annabel to turn around. However, before Annabel could understand what Benjamin’s coded expression meant, and turn around, Mathilda’s sweet little round face was rapidly contorting. With this her tiny little shoulders were bouncing up and down from the weight of her silent wailing. This was the kind of crying that one makes when the hurt is so sudden that your brain can’t react as fast as your body. Instantly, your eyes fill up and are closed all at once.

Unprompted, Mathilda’s clenched fist opened and the three gum balls that had been held prisoner loosened their stickiness in slow motion and fell to the ground, leaving dots of candy flavored red, green and white imprints on her sweaty palm. Her rain hat was falling down over her forehead from the force of her bouncing shoulders. She held her stiff sticky little rainbow colored hand open like it was something defective and unattached to her. And then with all the force of her tiny little person...it came. The huge pile of hurt came rushing out of her mouth and filled the room, instantly covering Annabel in shame.

When Annabel finally turned around and saw the incredible force and anguish of her words, her eyes, along with her heart, practically popped out of her body. She ran with urgency back to her sister and fell to her knees. Wrapping her arms around Mathilda she repeated over and over, “Oh Tildie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it...really, I didn’t mean it. Please Tildie, you know I love you. Please stop crying!” Benjamin stood behind Annabel and attempted to help the situation by reassuring Mathilda that she was indeed his best mate, equal only to her sister Annabel...and he couldn’t imagine one without the other. “Blimey Tildie, we’re the THREE Musky deers ain’t we?” offered Benjamin.

Finally the gentle coaxing of love from her sister began to slow Mathilda’s seemingly relentless sobbing. Now she had hiccups mixed in with gentle sobs and loads of snot. Annabel took her own sweater sleeve, spit on it a little, picked up Mathilda’s sticky hand and wiped it. Mathilda whimpered through a very runny nose, and all the wetness of tears and snot caused a big slobber bubble when she spoke, making the word “gum balls” come out “gum bowls” instead. “I di.dent know...B.Bellie...I just...oh no! I dr..dropped the gum bowls...I’m s..sorry Bellie...” Attempting not to giggle, Annabel assured her baby sister with a small smile, “Ssshh Tildie, it’s okay, we can just wipe them off, it will be fine.” Benjamin nodded in reassurance from his end.

Annabel wiped her sister’s tears and her profoundly running nose, with the back of her sweater sleeve, and propped her rain hat back up on her head. The sisters leaned in and rested their foreheads against each other, and looked deeply into one another’s eyes for a very long minute. Slowly a small smile started to grow between them. With this, Mathilda threw her arms around Annabel’s neck, and Benjamin exhaled a deep breath of relief.

The Wickcliff girls were the most truest and best mates that Benjamin ever had, without exception. It had been almost a year since he sat in his bedroom window and watched in curious amusement as the moving van unloaded the entirety of the Wickcliff belongings into the two story cream house next door to his grandparents.

Benjamin had come to live in Grandlochcheshire, with his grandparents, when he was almost nine. Because of the deep commitment that each of his parents held for their profoundly important work, and the time it took away from them as a family, Owen and Emmagene agreed without hesitation to have their only grandchild come live with them.

His father, Avery, was a marine biologist who was out to sea most of Benjamin’s youth. He was the lead scientist in a small group of sea worshipping comrades who’s important global research was privately funded. No one knew the waters of the planet like Avery. He had a deep passion for every facet of study involving the ecosystems of ocean life. This path had consumed him even as a young boy growing up in Grandlochcheshire.

He would ask questions of everything and read as much as he could get his hands on. Even at a young age he was capable of grasping the deeper complexity of science, unlike most of his classmates. It was second nature to Avery. He simply understood how things worked. Then during his college years, he met Gwyneth, who was his match, equal in every way possible. They had the same passion for life and study and fell deeply in love. They were married before their final year in school and had Benjamin two years later.

Avery would bring home tiny skeletons of sea crustaceans and sea horse bones for his son. He would deliver an array of mysterious sea salt worn artifacts like coral, shells, rocks and some unusual disintegrating pieces of metal to Benjamin who would respond in astonishment. Avery erected a hand planed, polished, long piece of driftwood as a shelf in Benjamin’s room for all his treasures to be displayed. Benjamin had this altar of prized possessions here with him at the home of his father’s youth. Benjamin worshiped his father. It was a genuine emotion and admiration that he felt. He knew his father was a significant man, and so was the work that separated their time together. What was more important, Benjamin knew he was deeply loved by his father. He lay in his little bed with the starfish mobile, made with Avery’s rare and fun finds, hanging above his head. He dreamed of the day he would be at sea, standing next to his father and sharing in the adventures that lie ahead.

His mother, Gwyneth was a botanist and just as dedicated to her work as his father, if not more. She had an air of worldly excitement about her that Benjamin reveled in. Gwyneth was at the top of her field by the end of her studies at Dorstanton University. Respected globally for her unparalleled understanding of ancient and obscure flora and all things to do with their biology, she was one of half a dozen on the planet who knew what she knew. She would be heralded off in a corporate jet to some exotic spot on the globe to study a newly discovered orchid or rare berry fruited shrub. Her discerning and expert knowledge gained her access to the most coveted research areas on the earth. Deep into the Amazon jungles of South America, or the Asian Rain Forest, where secluded indigenous tribes and shamans guided her through ancient rituals. Steeped in other worldly tradition, using sacred plants found only in that area of the world, Gwyneth learned from her mentors.

She had written books and thesis’s and had projects funded by huge global corporations. She was brilliant and full of life, and Benjamin thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had that old English, country-shiny clean skin, with tiny freckles and bright green eyes. Her long strawberry blond hair swirled about in the air and surrounded her head like a halo when it was windy outside. Benjamin dreamed of her hugs...and her smile.

His parents both came to spend time in the McTish household as often as time would permit. Little by little the time span extended from weeks to months, until it finally became years. Neither he nor his grandparents had heard from either Avery or Gwyneth for almost two years now. The unexplained coincidence of both parents remaining at large was unfathomable to the entire McTish family. Benjamin’s heart was silently torn in two and he kept this pain to himself. The lost pieces that tormented him also separated him from others.

He was a very lonely boy, even with the undying love of his grandparents. There were several instances when Benjamin said something to them in passing about some random occurrence that apparently only he had witnessed. They simply stared at him, not certain what to make of his observations and predictions. This made Benjamin very uncomfortable. So he became a bit of a loner and stayed in his room most of the time, sitting on the bay window seat watching life pass by on the road below. Then there were the days he spent lying on a pile of burlap in the garden shed staring up out of the wondrous window into the sky, and imagining a life with his parents by his side once again.

And then one summer day when he was twelve he watched from his upstairs bedroom bay window seat as the new neighbors moved in. He sat silently as he witnessed the large boxes being carted out of the moving van and brought into the two story cream house with the forest green trim. As dark wooden chairs with colorful floral printed cushions passed by his view, Benjamin sat motionless. Only his eyes moved back and forth, like a large clock ticking in the foyer. Table tops and bed frames were leaned up against the porch wall. As the two burly moving men had a very animated discussion about who would lead up the staircase and who would carry the brunt of the load and why, a commotion was beginning to pull at Benjamin’s inattention. Suddenly Benjamin was jerked out of his detached observation of the movers when he heard someone shouting “Cubby! Cubby come here!”

Within moments a huge golden retriever came bounding across the front yard. Benjamin sat up and took notice immediately. He turned his head in the direction of the stirring of activity that was apparently spilling out from the family car that had parked along the curb in front of the house. The ruckus was quickly growing in decibel until he heard the very boisterous high pitched squealing of what could only be called...girl noise. “Crikey!”, thought Benjamin....”Girls, and not one but two.”

He first took note of the little one that he guessed was younger than himself by a couple of years. She had the most wild kinky curly bright orange hair that completely framed her tiny little round face. She was an explosion of color. Benjamin’s eye brows quickly slid up his forehead with piqued interest. She was wearing a baby pink ballet tutu, beat up bright green high top sneakers with glittery purple untied laces trailing behind her, and a plastic rhinestone tiara mixed in with her russet tangle of curls. And she was eating the biggest cookie he had ever seen. “Well, this is intriguing.”, thought Benjamin.

Then came the bigger one. Benjamin calculated her to be closer to his age. This girl had short dark hair with long bangs that nearly covered her eyes. She had a sleeveless green, orange and brown striped frock on. She wore faded worn out red leather cowboy boots that were a little too big on her, creating raspy noises on the pavement as she shuffled along. And then something that one does not see in Grandlochcheshire, she was sporting a baseball bat perched up on her shoulder with a mitt dangling from the end that swung back and forth as she walked. “Blimey! Must be Americans!”, thought Benjamin, “Okay, it’s official...this is definitely interesting.”

He got up on his knees in the window seat and pressed his nose, forehead and palms to the glass to see where they all ran off, as the front yard was now quickly void of all activity almost as suddenly as it had begun. He couldn’t get a good view into the back garden from where he sat although the upstairs windows were almost equal to his. He could spy the movers in their unending battle about where things went and why. He could hear everyone shouting and laughing. He could hear the girls running up and down the stairs giggling and all the ordinary commotion of a family moving in..... “A family.” thought Benjamin sadly for a moment. Too caught up in the flurry of activity and newness of everything happening so quickly around him and all the questions he had, Benjamin hopped down off the window seat and headed out of his room to investigate further.

In a flash his antennae went up and he got the distinct feeling that things were about to change in his life in a big way. The hairs on his arms were tingling and Benjamin smiled as he bounced down the stairs and out the front door.

CHAPTER TWO

THE NANNY

“Bellie what do you think will happen tomorrow? Tell me again, what a nanny does.” “I don’t know Tildie, mom says she’s going to help around the house because Da has so much work to do. A nanny helps with the kids mostly, she’s like a babysitter who lives with you.”, replied Annabel. The Wickcliff girls had come to call their father Da because Annabel, also referred to by her baby sister as Bellie, only spoke in one syllable words as a toddler. Instead of Da Da like most infants, she said simply Da. No matter how persistent aunts and uncles, the grocer, or complete strangers were at attempting to coax the other Da out of her, it was not to be. So the Wickcliff girls had come to call their father Da. A term he had grown to cherish with all his heart.

Edward Wickcliff, an energy technologies engineer, born and raised in Grandlochcheshire was set to begin his new position at the Dagwood Corporation home offices in Callum. Edward had been living in America while working at the sister corporate offices of Dagwood for a little more that a decade. Edward enjoyed his work tremendously and had a great admiration for the company and the work they produced. So when he was approached almost twelve years before and asked if he would be willing to transfer to the States to head up a team in the globalization of Dagwood and the advancement of this important energy research, Edward could not say no.

This is where he first saw Claire, on the second floor of the twenty-seven story building in the heart of the city. Every day for a week, at precisely eleven-thirty, Edward would jump in the elevator and head down the twelve floors, landing him at the corporate accounting offices. There he would stroll the hall waiting to “accidentally” run into Claire as she did her daily rounds of paper shuffling between offices. It didn’t take a genius to catch onto Edward’s obvious attraction to Claire.

Claire had become keenly aware of Edward’s stratagem by day three, making certain her lipstick was fresh before making her rounds. “Well, two could play this game.”, she thought. When Edward finally had the courage to introduce himself to Claire, it was like a lighting wave ran through them and they fell instantly in love. Much to the surprise of their colleagues they were married within six months. They began their family by the end of their first year of marriage with the birth of their first daughter Annabel.

The “plan” had always been to someday return to the little town of Edward’s upbringing, Grandlocheshire. Not only was it the neighboring city to the corporate offices belonging to the company that Edward had given a majority of his career to, but it was home to his heart as well. Claire only wanted to be where Edward was and if that meant moving back to the home of his childhood, then move she would.

Edward’s new boss Braxton Dagwood, the heir apparent to the family company, had a different way of running things than the elders before him. Dagwood was a very old English family that had a very old English name. The lineage origin of the name Dagwood literally meant, “Luminous forest”, a source of great pride and honor to Braxton Dagwood, the youngest son of Nathaniel. In the meantime, things were changing in the company and it was finally time to bring Edward home.

It may have taken a bit longer than the Wickcliff’s had planned, but it seemed they had arrived at that precise moment they had dreamt of for so many years. The family now included another daughter, Mathilda, and a rather large golden retriever named Cubby. Relocating their daughters across the Atlantic and establishing a new way of life for everyone was exciting and scary, as well as a huge undertaking. However, bringing the girls back to the place that was home for Edward, that could offer them the same simple pleasures of life that he had been privy to in his youth, was a tremendous sense of joy and accomplishment for him. The five Wickcliffs, (Cubby included), were beginning a new adventure in the perfect little country town on the outskirts of the big city that backed up against the Gilly Forest known to all as Grandlochcheshire.

Because of Edward’s newly expanded duties with the Dagwood Corporation, and the amount of time he needed to settle in, and the addition of an unfamiliar city to the rest of his family, the parental Wickcliff’s decided some extra help around the house would be the added relief they required. So everyone was waiting with increased anticipation for the appearance of Mrs. Longpotts the new nanny, who was due to arrive the next afternoon.

The next afternoon had indeed arrived itself, and with it came a taxi and the anticipated delivery to the Wickcliff residence. While the girls were busy in deep exploration of all the nooks and crannies of their new home they heard the sound of a car pulling away and ran down the stairs as the front doorbell rang. Claire opened the door and in the bright sunlit background stood the silhouette of the woman who would, (at the time no one could ever have suspected), forever change the life of every resident in the two story cream house with the forest green trim.

The girls stood motionless half way down the staircase as their mother closed the door behind Myra Longpotts, better known as Mrs. Longpotts the nanny. There was an air of authority about her and a riddle to her face all at once. She stood five feet two inches in her gray and white lace up spectator shoes. “She looks like something from a fairy tale” thought Mathilda, “Cool.”

Even though it was the middle of June, Mrs. Longpotts wore a lightweight khaki raincoat with a sheer pink and red patterned scarf around her neck. She carried a large over sized satchel that looked like it was made from some old chenille bedspread of mostly yellow and coral roses. The thick leather handles were worn and faded down to a slight tan, almost colorless. A stranger couldn’t have guessed her age, but in the eyes of her new charges she appeared ancient.

Mathilda and Annabel looked at each other with bated breath and wide eyes full of curious anticipation. They turned back to further study the diminutive woman standing in the entry way, who was now staring with great intent up at them! Knocked off guard for a moment, they just simply stood exchanging quizzical glances until Claire broke the silence. “Let me take your things Mrs. Longpotts.” she said as she gathered the nanny’s coat and bag and invited her into the kitchen for some iced tea. The girls continued quickly down the stairs following the lead to catch up with the conversation.

The next few days went off without a hitch. Everyone was pulling themselves into the rhythm of their new lives in a small English town. Annabel was tending with great seriousness to her room set up. Everything had a place to Annabel....and everyplace had a thing. Her father had hung her perfectly clean, white book shelves above her desk and now she was arranging her array of supplies accordingly.

Even at twelve years of age Annabel was a student of knowledge. She was a voracious reader and loved a good story filled with clues and puzzles. She was drawn to ideas that made her look at things from every side. She had an unconventional thirst for learning something new. She loved to write. She loved taking notes and making lists. Lists were big with Annabel. She kept a list for the grocery store on the door of the refrigerator. She had a scheduled routine of checking cupboards, above and below the sink counter and pantry. In the mud room, just off of the kitchen, hung a giant wax board that she updated on a regular basis with the entire school year of activities, from soccer practice, (football here in England), to teacher conferences. The whole family’s personal schedules, from dance class to dentist appointments were maintained. This was a huge undertaking that Annabel reveled in. She had five different color markers to represent each member of the Wickcliff household, (Cubby included, he needed shots and baths after all), and their corresponding chores, meetings and commitments.

A really good day for Annabel was when Claire would take them to the office supply store. To Annabel it was like being in a giant candy store filled with every confection a child could dream of and Christmas morning all rolled into one. Pencils of every shade, erasers in the cute little shapes of fruit, like a bunch of cherries or grapes. Every size sticky note pads in more colors imaginable, purple being her favorite bar none. Binders that had pockets to store specific separate notes, or special papers, and zippered transparent compartments that carried anything her little heart desired.

Annabel had a complete supply of all things to do with paper, pencils and folders. She also had a special knack for making up fun stories off the top of her head to tell her baby sister. Who would of course howl with glee whenever the fairy princess road off on the back of the dragonfly after stealing away with the coveted sugared berries the farmers wife set out to dry.

Then there was Mathilda. Mathilda marched to her own beat. She was everything opposite of her big sister. She was fearless and creative, and loved a good adventure. Mathilda made the best out of every situation.

Mathilda had two serious loves. Not counting the irrepressible love she held in high esteem for her sister Annabel, as this love was the biggest her heart could hold. This was capital L, Love. Every single part that was Mathilda worshipped her big sister. The kind of worship that a single day has when the heated glow of the sun breaks through the darkest of clouds after the bleakest gray wet winter storm. This kind of admiration and devotion is sacred and untouchable...and in a class all of it’s own. This is what Mathilda Wickcliff felt for her big sister Annabel.

Apart from Bellie and her family, Mathilda had two serious passions in her life which she shared as flagrantly as a nine year old fearless little girl was wanton to do. One was her love of music. All music. Old music, new music, rock, country, show tunes, it didn’t matter she loved it all. She would sing along uninhibited in the car, without a care in the world. At home she would blast CD’s in her room while she mimicked the movements of the idols she saw on videos. She would stand on the little low lawn table in the backyard and belt out a rendition of her favorite ballad with all the theatrics of a super diva, while Bellie sat and cheered her on like her own personal groupie. Mathilda was all things musical and entertaining. And she honored this love by wearing tee shirts that illustrated her favorite music icon images. She wore these paired up with her infamous tutus. She had countless tutus that she owned in a multitude of colors. Tilde wouldn’t be caught dead without her tutu, as dance ran a very close second to her love for music. She personally believed them to be the identical energy. Music, singing, dancing, it all felt pretty much the same to Mathilda. She was an energy burst of natural talent.

Mathilda’s second love was butter and bread...toast in particular. Sweet salty greasy yellow butter puddled deeply into every crater of her toasty brown English muffin, (crumpets here in England, her new favorite word), then topped with her favorite plum preserves. Although sometimes she preferred strawberry. This was sheer heaven to her.

On this summer morning she had her fresh hot toasty muffin while she was sitting up on the high blue stained barstool at the kitchen island. She had her favorite sunny yellow napkin with the orange, pink and white daisy’s, spread out on the shiny dark granite counter top, open and ready to catch any loose remnants of richly golden soaked toasty crumbs that might escape her wet waiting mouth. She placed her elbows on the surface of the cool granite and held her drippy muffin in both hands equal to her lips. Abruptly interrupted by a peculiar sound, she held her position and took a quick look around the kitchen.

Pulled out of her buttery reverie, she felt like someone was watching her. Then from behind her she saw an unfamiliar shadow darting off down the hallway wall. “ Mrs. Longpotts! Of course.”, thought Mathilda with a shrug. “What an odd duck she is. She makes me feel....squiggley!” she continued in her mind. Assured that she was now utterly alone to indulge her senses, Mathilda turned back towards the prize in hand. As she readjusted her seating, she glanced up at the window shade that hung perfectly silent beneath the dark blue and claret striped valance above the kitchen window. She took a moment and watched as the fiery bright sparkle reflections from the crystal star that hung in the same window had a ballet dance around the kitchen walls. Bright rainbows of color floated across all the surfaces surrounding her. After a small minute of wonder, Mathilda let out a tiny sigh, looked back down at her patiently waiting butter drenched muffin and took a big bite.

CHAPTER THREE

A MESSAGE FROM MRS. LONGPOTTS

Benjamin had been keeping a low profile for a couple of days while observing his new neighbors activities from between the Rhododendron hedge that separated the two properties. When he first came down the stairs after watching the family move in two days earlier, he thought he would just go up and introduce himself. Why not, the girls were close in age and they seemed pleasant enough from a distance. He convinced himself that there was nothing wrong with girls as mates...really. And at this point a mate that lived next door and just happened to be a girl was one more mate than he had anyway. Furthermore, the idea that they were American was seriously enticing. Benjamin had not really known anyone outside of Grandlochcheshire.

As he headed out the front door and turned in the direction of the neighboring house, his inner voice turned up the volume and began nagging at the back of his brain. He instinctively began to slow his stride and his momentum. Until finally he just stopped cold in his tracks. Dead cold in fact. He stared off in the distance for a minute with acute concentration listening to any sound that would guide his trepidation...but he just couldn’t seem to put a handle on it. He came back to himself with a deep breath and decided to go off to the side yard where he stood in the background and watched the bustling of activity going on next door. He sat hypnotized for hours just observing.

Then, on the second day of strategic surveillance, as he sat crossed legged beneath the tall flowering shrub eating an apricot, a very unexpected addition to his investigation presented itself in the form of a very peculiar woman. A most miniature of women at that. Something about her presence in particular made the hairs on his arms go completely wonky....this was something very different for Benjamin. His alertness became fully astute and he came to full attention.

Mechanically he got up onto his knees and backed up further into the shadows so as not to be seen. However, as he peered out between the branches and leaves, beyond all odds, this tiny wisp of a woman turned and looked straight at Benjamin’s hiding place in the shadow of the bushes! He could swear she had even looked him right in the eye! He stumbled backwards a bit and sat dazed from the strange impact this action had on him. How on earth could she even know he was there let alone look straight at him? Benjamin’s entire body was tingling and energized from head to toe. His now sweaty strands of hair were sticking to his fore head and his heart was racing and pounding a furious beat in his brain.

Then Benjamin’s sixth sense kicked into full throttle.

Within a breath the extrasensory slideshow in his mind flashed with rapid, blurry edged images and sounds....first came a dark shadowy entrance into a broken down barn and the distant echo of a single overwhelmingly melancholy voice singing ....then came a thick, lush wooded forest...trees, and more trees surrounding him. Instantly a great sense of urgency flooded Benjamin as he gleaned an image of a towering and majestic ornately crafted wooden door....until finally, a dark menacing chill, like the swoosh of a black cloak, crossed his view...and then the weirdest sensation ever was the undeniable and overpowering scent of roses!

And then it stopped.

Benjamin attempted to gain control of his senses as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. He quickly attempted a dizzying search with his eyes and mind back to the tiny odd woman, who he located as she was just gaining entrance through the front door of the cream colored house next door. The fragmented images lingered and buzzed around Benjamin’s head like a honey bee searching for nectar. As Benjamin’s surroundings in the side yard came back into focus he suddenly remembered what had initially sent him into his trance. The alarm grabbed him and he stood up and ran full speed for the garden shed.

Once inside the shed Benjamin felt safe. He began unconsciously to pace back and forth attempting to make sense of what had just transpired beneath the Rhododendron and the glance from the mysterious visitor next door. He went over every minute detail in his mind. “She looked right at me...I know she did!” insisted Benjamin’s inner voice. “How could she know I was there? No one could see me in the shadows of the trees...no one.”, argued Benjamin as he continued to dissect the mystery.

And with this internal dialog more and more detail began to reveal itself to him. “That voice! That strange sad voice, singing that peculiar old song. It was like something from...what?...an old story...no, it was more like from another time...olden times....and it was off in the distance, like someone had turned the volume down, but is was clear and I heard it. And that Forest, all those giant thick trees. It was moving so fast past us, it was like we....Wait, WE?.....Who in all the earth is we? Who is US?” thought Benjamin with unnerving surprise. “WE..BLOODY HELL! Benjamin felt weak.

His thoughts continued, “It was like we were running through this place and time was really important. There were others besides ‘us’, who were helping...no wait, not helping, more like...like tracking!....tracking our moves...and there was a game, or a match...no, no, not a match, but something like clues that needed to be done in order, an important order...like....like an Exam!....and that door, that massive brilliant door!”

Benjamin’s breathing grew hard and audible until he was almost panting. He put his hands to his face then in a flash everything stopped moving and became profoundly sharp and clear. He stood still in the center of the shed and suddenly his eyes grew as big as saucers. The anxiety began to creep up from the bottom of his feet and touched on every bone, nerve and organ in his body. He flipped his head upward and stared out the sky window and a small moan escaped his lips as he realized that what he profoundly heard echoing in his brain was the unquestionable and unmistakable resonance of the thick and deliberate cry.....”HELP!” The over powering scent of roses filled the air around him, and with that Benjamin lost all feeling in his legs and he fell straight to the floor like a wet rag.

After several moments of sheer terror, Benjamin sat up and managed to drag himself over to the burlap pile, climbed up to the top and let his emotions spill. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what all of this meant. He had never experienced anything remotely of this magnitude with his “special talent” before. He laid on the pile drenched in sweat and fear and attempted to catch his mind before it left him completely. As his heart rate slowly began to pace back in time with his breath, he stared up at the clouds above him. His body still energized with the pulse of his adrenalin began to lull him into a daydream. He eventually closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep. The reflection of the hot sun pouring out from behind the light airy clouds held the tiny beads of perspiration on his forehead while Benjamin slept. Without effort or time, Benjamin’s mind found a lovely simple little vision to center his internal attention on.

He found himself sitting in a tiny wooden boat gently rocking on the bluest green water that one could ever imagine, dream or otherwise. The sky was crystal clear and bright, and there were hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny bubbles in the air floating about. Benjamin looked out across the expanse of the sea and everything remained calm. Even the bubbles didn’t disturb Benjamin, it was a dream after all and such things are possible and acceptable in dreams. Then he looked down into the transparent aqua water that allowed him to see clearly below for at least ten feet or more, and there he caught the split second image of something swimming past in the shade of the swaying boat. No alarm came to Benjamin’s dreaming mind as he scooted to the edge of the boat to take a closer look at his shadowy company. Within moments the creature made his circle around the little wooden craft again and this time Benjamin got a perfect look at his guest. Why it was nothing more than a cat fish!

At least that is what Benjamin told himself. After all it was a fish, because it had scales and fins and was swimming beneath the waves. And he surmised it was a cat fish in particular because, well, it had a black and white stripe tail, pointed ears and whiskers, just like a cat. So what else could one deduce? As far as Benjamin’s inner self was concerned, his peaceful sail on the perfect water with the cat fish riding the current along beside him and bubbles filling the air all made perfect sense in this lovely holiday from visions of broken down barns and ghostly singing....and “WE”.

Then something started to nag and tug, and began to peel at the corner of this blissful dream, “We....We were running...” The feeling of serenity that had covered his dream only moments before, began taking on a more ominous tone. It started to creep up around the edges blocking out the sun, until it was nothing more than darkness, a storm that surrounded Benjamin in his once safely lolling haven.

The waves grew more aggressive and the sound of the water slapping up again the tiny craft began to raise anxiety in Benjamin. And without warning a huge CRACK! of thunder smacked the air with such a full force, the smell of electricity singed the sky. Benjamin sat back down onto the deck of wood and hugged his knees close to his chest. His unnerving fear rose up in his throat and he could taste the bile. Hot tears formed in his eyes and blocked out any visual detail before him. But he knew what to expect...he saw it all so perfectly in his mind’s eye....she was here! Somehow she had found her way into this quiet place and was coming for him...and then the swoosh of the black cloak filled his view and Benjamin awoke with a start!

He stared up out the sky window and felt detached from his body. He put his hands up in front of his sweaty face and wiggled his fingers to bring back the sensation that he was alive and well in his grandparents garden shed. When he was certain he was indeed in the shed he bolted straight up and looked around quickly to see if he could trace any remnants of the dream. Everything was as it always was. Except now Benjamin had a magnetic tractor beam pulling him unwillingly into something beyond all perception.

Benjamin knew he needed to get to the bottom of this situation or he would go completely mad from the fright alone. He needed to take serious action, immediately! He jumped down off the burlap covered hay and went back into the house and up to his room. Once inside he took out his binoculars, a note pad and a clock, and planted himself in front of the window that looked almost directly into the second level of the cream colored house next door. He instinctively knew he needed to take steps to understanding what he was being shown and what he was meant to do with the knowledge once he gained it.

First things first. Who was this strange woman and what did she have to do with the new American neighbors?

Benjamin sat and watched the still house for the rest of the afternoon. It was like any other day on any other road in any other part of Grandlochcheshire. He saw the girls out in the back garden for a bit running about with Cubby. Then they sat huddled together in the far corner of the garden whispering to each other in a very animated way. He wondered what their urgent secret was. He felt certain it had something to do with the miniature Mac lady, as he was now referring to her. “I mean really, who wears a Mac in the middle of June anyway?” thought Benjamin. “Was she a visiting Auntie maybe or a family member?” For some odd reason he just didn’t think so. Well, who ever she was Benjamin was not about to find out at the present moment, as he suddenly realized how incredibly hungry he was. So he decided to follow his growling stomach and abandon his post, heading downstairs to the kitchen. There he found the plate still left from lunch that he had never eaten. He immediately devoured the entire meal grateful to his grandmother for saving it. He grabbed some juice and another apricot from the fridge and headed back upstairs. He was more than determined to find some kind of clue that would lead him to any explanation of the very unnerving experiences of his day. As the sun left the sky and the switched on light illuminated the internal activity of the house next door, Benjamin’s heart jumped as he finally caught his break.

It was six thirty-eight and for the first time since the Mac lady looked at Benjamin earlier that afternoon, she had appeared in his sight once again. This time she was following the Mrs. of the house around, going along in and out of all the rooms on the second floor. She even opened the linen cupboards and checked in the wash closets. “Blimey, what the heck does this mean?”, wondered Benjamin, and at that precise moment he heard a car door shut and swung his attention down to the pavement where he watched the girls running to greet their father. They were very vocal and shouting “The new nanny is here Da, wait til you see her!”. There was so much commotion around this activity that Benjamin could only pick out a few phrases and key words. “She’s the tiniest...wearing a raincoat..did you know...called a Mac..in with Mom right now...come see for yourself Da”

“So that was it! She was the new nanny!” Benjamin felt a tremendous accomplishment at this bit of extracted information. At least now he knew who she was and why she was next door, and proceeded to jot it all down in his notes.

What he didn’t know was how she had known he was in the shadows, and why he received the myriad of pictures and information that was blasted at him from her stare. Because that is precisely what Benjamin believed had indeed occurred. He felt instinctually again, that the images were somehow delivered through her to him. This was new territory for Benjamin. He had learned to live with his abilities to “see” things and receive messages in the form of quick mental images...but nothing of this caliber had ever crossed his path.

Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the small voice tugging at his thoughts....“What about the dream?” When he allowed himself to feel what this could actually mean he froze in mid gulp of juice and his heart began pounding once again.

Benjamin thought for a moment...there was something in that mental space that felt, “real” to him. It’s like sometimes in a dream when one actually knows that they are indeed dreaming? This was even deeper than that. Benjamin was beginning to feel that what he had experienced was...a premonition. He was starting to believe that these sounds and smells and feelings were based on some sort of future act, something he hadn’t yet lived. This reality put his mind into a severe mental panic. Benjamin’s heart started pounding and he began to tremble. He looked straight out into the air in front of him and suddenly it became completely clear to Benjamin. The instant realization was all encompassing and he was now certain without doubt, that what ever or whom ever this dark cloak of power was...it was coming for him ... and the people closest to him!

His body in complete panic and shaking, Benjamin slammed his eyes shut and wished with every ounce of his being for the sound of his father’s voice to appear. He repeated to himself, over and over, “I need you now, please, I need you” and wished hard, like it was something physical pouring out of his cells...hot tears filled his aching heart and streamed down his face....suddenly, he opened his eyes fully expecting to see his father standing there...but there was no one...nothing. Benjamin found himself extremely and utterly alone....and terrified.

“Well, nothing like a cloak of darkness to get one’s heart a pumpin, I always say.”

Dunston Tibbets, The Keeper of the Books

THE BOOK

2011-10-16T21:51:00.000-07:00

Well it's been a very long time since I have added something to these pages...and I wanted to give an update. I am happy to report the book is in the final stages of completion. I will be doing the copy write at the end of this week and then I am ready to share the story with you.

I know I have a few followers who have been waiting diligently for this manuscript and I aim to please. So hold out for another week and I will personally send it your way...and you know who you are! I really want to take this moment to thank those of you who have kept up with the process and have been interested and excited to read the final copy. Especially you Tammy...Benjamin is headed your way very soon! Thx again for all the support.

So I'll keep you posted and let the magic live on!! Yeah, it's almost done!!

thx, june

FINALLY...BENJAMIN McTISH IN HIS WORLD

2011-03-09T20:26:00.000-08:00

Well it's taken a while to get back into business with the McTish series...but here is the finished piece that has never been shared...

Benjamin McTish

JUST CHECKING IN

2010-05-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

Just wanted you to know that things are moving right along with the book....tee shirts had a slight set back but should be available in children's boutique's by the end of the month..next month that is. However, I do have some prototypes of children 100% cotton baby rib fitted tees available of Mathilda that are just plain, no embellishments, like polka dot bows and the logo embroidered on the back, etc... if anyone is interested...keep the whimsey flowing...love me

Moving Forward!

2010-04-28T10:22:00.000-07:00

I wanted to update on what is happening with Benjamin McTish and his friends.

We have FINALLY begun printing tee shirts as we speak. It was a way bigger job than I had imagined, but the two we are starting out with are going to be very sweet indeed...little Mathilda's face just make me feel good! What can I say...

And the book is coming right along. I am searching out the perfect agent, and I believe I may have found one. I decided the book is too big a job for just one person, so an agent will get me to the publisher way easier than I ever could. And I think I am going to pursue illustrating as a side job...so there you have it...today's McTish update....have a happy, magical day...juner

TWO NEW CHARACTERS COMING THIS WEEK!

2010-04-01T10:12:00.000-07:00

Well I'm just about finished here with Dunston (Tibbitts- edit on 4/29..his last name is Tibbitts) the keeper of Books...don't quite have his last name yet, getting close though. And then there is Annabel, Mathilda's older sister, who is quickly becoming one of my favorites...can't wait to share them with you...soon, I promise!

I'm finishing the process of printing tee shirts right now for children's boutiques...people are really interested in these, which has been just a great reaction for me. And the posters are cuter than ever! Can't wait to get these out in to the book stores, and the postcards as well...really sweet, if I do say so myself.

It's been fun working on this project...but the writing has been almost the best part of this...I've been a storyteller my whole life and to finally put something of this stature down on paper...well it's been a dream come true for me. Can't wait to share that with everyone soon...lot's of luv, juner

PRINCESS VIEOLETTE, THE AMETHYST FAIRY

2010-02-19T11:49:00.000-08:00

BENJAMIN McTISH

2010-02-16T21:18:00.001-08:00

This is a peek at Benjamin...the hero of our story

MATHILDA WICKCLIFF AND CHARLIE HORSE

2010-02-16T21:07:00.000-08:00

FINLEY HEATON THE STAR HANGER

2010-02-16T20:56:00.001-08:00

CHANTILLY LILY

2010-02-16T20:25:00.000-08:00