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Chapter 1
Keegan set his well worn sack on the floor and breathed in the scent of fresh pine. The loft
was large with three cots set along one side. A tapered ceiling gave the room an open feeling,
and he was grateful for such a fine place to stay even if Effie and Delwyn had no bed for him.
He would be content with the bedroll they provided. Afterall, he had endured worse living
conditions in his short life.
Thinking of his life’s experiences sent a mixture of regret and sorrow creeping up Keegan’s
spine.
Keegan always knew he was different. His mother had told him so while he was still very
young. She would set him down and tell him of the amazing adventures he would have
when he was grown. Keegan neither doubted her sincerity nor questioned the truth of her
words. He remained devoted to her until the day she died.
They were staying at the home of Zane, son of Daniel, when his mother, Adrian, became sick.
Zane was a quiet man and kind enough to allow them sanctuary in his home. It was his wife,
Demelza, who protested their very existence. The first thing she said to Adrian when they
arrived was “I hope y’er son don’t eat much. We cain’t afford to feed another youngin’.”
The Zane family included nine children, all under the age of twelve. At that time Keegan was
only six, and he didn't eat much at all compared to the Zane brood. Though they were hefty
and overfed, they complained of hunger pains relentlessly. They were unkind to Keegan,
so he spent most of his days tending to his mother. Her eyes, once glistening and dark, had
turned cloudy, and she began having terrible coughing fits. Soon she developed a fever and
could hardly get out of bed. After just a month at the Zane home, she died.
Keegan knew the impact his mother’s death would have upon his future, even at his young
age. Having no living relatives and scarcely a dime to his name, he had become an orphan
and a pauper. In the natural order of things he would stay with Zane and Demelza along
with their children, working as a member of the family. But there was no time to grieve.
“Well, I guess we’re stuck with ye’ now,” Demelza said on the day after Adrian’s death.
Her harsh glare tore right through his weak spirit. He was kneeling at the base of his
mother’s fresh grave, his face streaked with tears.
“Can you use a mop, boy?” She demanded.
“Yes,” he said meekly, wiping his face on his sleeve.
“You got any other skills?”
"I’m good with animals,” he said. “Mama, . . ." a sob esscaped his throat, but he continued,
“Mama always said I could talk to them, and she was right. That’s not exactly how it works,
but I tell animals things and they tell me things back—only without words…”
Demelza scowled. “Don’t play games with me, boy. In my house you don’t be tellin’ lies,
you hear?”
“But I wasn’t lying!” he insisted, shaking a little as more tears flowed. “Mama says it’s a special
gift. She said that I’ll use it to have all sorts of adventures.”
“Your Mama’s dead. That’s all the better for you if she’s been feeding you such lies. Now I
never want to hear you talkin’ ‘bout those things again. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
That was the first of many lectures given to him by Mistress Zane, and he learned to avoid them
at all costs. When finished with his chores every day, he would hide in the barn, stroking the mule
or playing with the litter of kittens. Sometimes the other children would discover his hiding place
and order him about. Whenever he refused their demands, they would overturn the slop bucket
or let the cows out and blame it on him. Demelza’s rage was far worse than the consequences of
doing what the children wanted, so he became their slave.
Keegan’s days in the Zane home were miserable. He was too young to run away and too little to
stand up for himself. Visiting his mother’s grave and spending time with the animals of the village
were his only comforts. He came to know the stray dogs in town and often saved a bit of his
meager food portions for them.
Soon he had a whole menagerie of animal friends. Whenever Keegan was around an animal,
he knew how they felt and could project his feelings and thoughts into their minds. Animal feelings,
he found, were much different from his. They did not understand human ideas like money and
government, but whenever he put his thoughts into animal reasoning, they understood much of
what he felt. Instead of telling Dot (The Zanes’ barn cat) that he had no money, he communicated
to her that he had no mice to eat. And when Rafael the horse did not understand the idea of kings,
Keegan just told him that Kenton, the king of Diggeret, was merely the leader of the herd of men.
Soon he was holding mental conversations with the animals. But the meanings, he found, were hard
to translate into clear human sentences.
On one particularly tiresome spring day, Keegan set out to explore the woods outside the Zane
home to avoid more conflict with Demelza or her children. Before long he found himself utterly lost.
As the sun began to sink in the sky, he searched frantically for the way back, to no avail.
While rummaging for a place to sleep for the night, he spied movement in a tree to his left and
felt the presence of a feline mind. It was a jaguar crouching on a branch only a few feet away.
Keegan stood still, terrified out of his wits. He could feel the enormous cat’s frustration at sensing
a strange intruder and knew it was preparing to attack. Quickly he reached out with his thoughts
to send a message of apology to the predatory figure in front of him. The jaguar hesitated, embroiled
in an air of confusion. Encouraged, Keegan explained his situation and said that he only wanted to
find his way home. The cat, confused and curious at the human who could communicate with it,
offered cautiously to lead him to the human settlement. Keegan eagerly accepted, and they set off.
In less than an hour he walked into the village with a wild jaguar guiding him.
The villagers screamed and ran into their houses. Children were ushered to safety behind locked
doors and women fainted on their stoops. Keegan stopped at the Zane home, placed a hand on
the cat in a gesture of thanks, and told it to purr often. That was a compliment to all feline animals
no matter the breed. Demelza came out the front door and upon seeing the two together, fainted
instantly, disappearing gently into layers of petticoats.
A few men of the village rounded the corner, bows in hand. “Get out! They’ll kill you,” Keegan
warned the jaguar. It dashed effortlessly between the cabins and vanished into the thicket at the
edge of the forest.
No one in the village knew the extent of Keegan’s abilities. But they knew after that incident that
he was different. The town demanded his departure, and after two years of service to the Zane
family he was forced to leave.
Traveling alone at the age of eight was not easy for him.
He followed the Felix River, eating wild berries and listening intently to the birds’ songs. Gradually
he realized he was being followed. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he sensed a
presence behind him. Looking back, he saw the jaguar. It stood twenty feet away and gazed at him.
He knew it was curious, and he decided to speak with it for a while. The cat sat patiently while he
told his story, and then it swished its tail. He felt the jaguar’s reply and understood it as I don’t
understand. Why hate someone for communicating with animals?
Keegan did not know exactly what to say but settled on, They thought I was bringing a curse upon
them. When the jaguar couldn't understand, he said, The people thought that I was going to make
you hurt them, and they were afraid because you didn’t hurt me.
The jaguar curled up on the grass, amused at the thought. I could not destroy an entire village. I
could barely take out a man, she replied.
Keegan laughed softly. From that point on he and the jaguar were friends. He learned that it was a
female, and she was young for a jaguar – only three seasons. Even so, she was amazingly large,
and her back reached the middle of his chest. Her golden brown fur with black rosettes provided
perfect camouflage in the night, and she sometimes tried to scare him playfully by jumping out of
the dark. This ritual became a sort of game between the two while traveling together. They would
each try to scare the other out of their wits. Of course, she always won. He called her Adrian,
in memory of his Mother.
When they came to the next village, Keegan left Adrian in the thicket and found work with another
family. They were decent people, but they could hardly afford to keep food in the home. He visited
Adrian in the outskirts of the village as often as possible.
Before long he had to move to another home, but the duration of that arrangement was just as brief
as the last. The lady became pregnant, and they had to make room for the new baby, eliminating his
place in the household.
Keegan traveled with Adrian some distance out of the village and just before dusk came upon a
small cabin. He sent Adrian away and knocked on the door. An old, grey-haired man opened the
door. “Yes?” he said gruffly, gazing right through Keegan.
“Please, sir,” Keegan began. He hated asking for a place to stay. “I need somewhere to sleep for
just tonight, and I’ll work for my board. I promise.”
“Why how old are you? You sound like just a little thing.” The old man stared blankly into space.
Only then did Keegan realize he was blind.
“Well, I’m eight years old, sir. I can scrub your floor and wash your dishes in exchange for one
night’s stay in a warm bed.”
The man scowled a little, his white eyebrows furrowing at an odd angle. “Where’re your parents, kid?”
Keegan was used to this question. “Dead . . . both of them, sir.”
“Well, come on in then,” he said in a gentler tone that betrayed a hint of sympathy.
In the cabin Keegan was given a cup of hot tea and a place by the warm fire. The old man made
his way around the cabin so well that it was apparent his failed sight did not limit his mobility.
“You have a name?” the man asked.
“Keegan, son of Kyan.”
“You headed anywhere in particular or just looking for a home?”
“Looking for a home, sir.”
“That’s a mighty hard objective for a boy of eight years.” The old man felt his way over a shelf in
the corner and pulled out a book and thrust it into Keegan’s hands. “Can you read the title of this
book?” he asked gruffly.
Keegan looked at the symbols and sounded the word out. “D . . . Dee-grate?” he guessed meekly.
“No,” the man barked. “Can’t you recognize the name of the country in which you live? It’s
Diggeret. By the sound of your accent I judge you’ve lived here all your life. You should know how
to read the name of your own country. I suppose it’s fallen upon me to teach you.”
“What?” Keegan asked, shocked. “Why would you teach me to read? No one else bothered to
teach me more than my name and the alphabet!”
“Well, just because your parents are dead, does that means you aren’t worthy of learning?”
“Oh, no! It’s just that . . . well . . . people can hardly afford to teach a child who isn’t even theirs.”
“I can’t afford to, either,” the man said with a twinkle in his voice. “That’s why you’ll repay me by
reading to me when you’ve learned how. Every citizen of Diggeret needs to know how to read. You’ll
also help with the outdoor tasks too. I have a little money, but not enough to make up for my sight.
You’ll help with the chores that require sight, and in turn, I’ll teach you to read and give you a place
to stay.”
Keegan gratefully agreed. From that point forward he was like a grandson to the old man. He learned
that the man’s name was Toni. He had been a successful farmer until his eyesight failed him. Then he
took up weaving and made simple blankets for the village people. Keegan helped him by sorting the
colors of yarn and doing errands in the village. Each night he had a reading lesson before bed. Toni,
though harsh at times, was a good teacher.
Every morning Adrian accompanied Keegan on his morning chores. They spent more time together
since Toni couldn’t see her. Keegan’s days with Toni and Adrian were the best of his short life. He
worked hard, indeed, but he was rewarded with mentoring and kindness. That was a new concept
to him, one that he had not experienced since his mother’s death.
For three years he worked with Toni without a moment’s regret. But Toni was in his old age, and
it was inevitable that his death was near. It was so sudden that Keegan could hardly believe it. One
day the old man was healthy and active, and the next he was gone. The village healer said that his
heart was old and Toni had been ready to go, but that was no comfort to Keegan. Once again he
was left alone in the world without a home.
After Toni’s burial Keegan set off. With Adrian at his side he could do anything. The small pack
he took with him had flint to start a fire, some clothes, and blankets for the road. He was sorry to
leave the cabin and the old man’s grave, but he had to find work in a new town.
One week’s travel brought him to a large village called Crempton. There he met a pleasant family
who offered him a place in their home. They were generous and kind, allowing him to sleep in the
loft with their sons.
Keegan reflected on the journey that had brought him there, and pondered his present circumstances
as he gazed about the loft of Effie and Delwyn’s home. Three cots still stared back at him. Yes, it
was a good place to live. He had an idea he was going to like it.
© 2007 Hannah Stahlhut.
This is from the 1st place winning manuscript in the 2007 Tweener Time Chapter Book
Competition. One of the top six winning manuscripts in the Tweener Time Championship
Series will be published every other month beginning in March, 2008. Charter members
(those joining before March 15, 2008) will receive an autographed copy of the first book
in the series, Journey to the Homeland. Charter membership is $60.00 and includes all 6
of the winning titles. Each book will be shipped as it is released. That includes free shipping
for charter members.
The cover illustration for this 1st place winner is Hannah England, a 12th grade homeschool
student from Mechanicsville, VA.
The series will be published by Baker Trittin Press. You may join the Tweener Time Book
Club at www.tweenerministries.org.
The Tweener Time Championship Series, 'Books by Teens for Tweens.'
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