I am working on the fourth book in my Dolbin School series.
But I placed a challege to myself to write a chapter book without an outline and into the dark
Anyway, here is:
Part one of Irving Williams and the Lighthouse Ghost
A loud giggle came from the seat in front of him.
“Haha! I did!” Squealed Lucas, Irving’s little brother.
“Mom, make them stop!” whined Carrie, Irving’s older sister. Who was sitting with Irving in the back seat of their three row SUV.
“Boys, stop being gross,” Julie Williams, Irving’s mother, said from the passenger seat.
“Boys, I need you to cut down on that sort of talk when we reach grandma and grandpa’s house,” George Williams, Irving’s dad, instructed from the driver’s seat.
Irving Williams was eight-years-old, had sandy brown hair with freckles on his face and was soon to be in the third grade.
Carrie, was ten-years-old, also had brown hair, hers was pulled back into a ponytail. And she was going to be a fifth grader.
Lucas was four. And he laughed for at least three minutes every time he passed gas.
Mr. Williams turned on the blinker and he turned the family’s grey SUV into a driveway.
The two story brick house, had a dark green roof. Large potted plants stood on both sides of the front door. An elderly man and woman appeared from the front door, Irving’s grandparents, Grant and Lucille Williams “Well, who are these lovely people who landed here in my driveway?” said Grant Williams, the man smiled and walked quickly to the car.
“Grandpa!” screamed Lucas.
“Here, let me get you out of this car seat,” said Grant as he fumbled with the latches and eventually got Lucas out of the seat.
“Hey mom,” George hugged his mom.
“How was your trip?” Lucille Williams, Irving’s grandmother, asked.
“It was fine. The traffic was better than usual.”
“Can we go to the beach today?” shouted Lucas.
His grandparents laughed.
“We need to eat and get unpacked before head to the beach,” Mrs. Williams rolled her eyes as she shuffled Lucas off into the house.
“There is my little, oh, excuse me, grown-up adventurer,” Irving’s grandfather shook his hand. His grip hurt Irving’s hand. He was still strong in his later years. He pulled Irving in close and whispered in his ear, “I have something to show you at the lighthouse. But you need to keep it a secret. Understand?” Irving looked at his grandfather’s face, the lines were deep, but there was excitement in his eyes. Irving held his grandfather’s gaze for what seemed to be hours.
“Irving, let you grandfather go, and help with the luggage,” instructed his dad. Irving followed instructions, got the luggage and followed his family into his grandparents’ large house.