The Volcano Trap
This is installment #14 in my several-part series, Shit I Wrote a While Ago. This piece comes from 4th grade, also a McCaig. The way McCagis worked was that you’d be presented with three or four prescribed titles, or you could make up your own. This must be one of the prescribed titles. I can’t image that I ever would have decided of my own volition to write a story about a volcano. From 1996.
The Volcano Trap
Chapter 1: Unhappy Endings
…and the family lived happily ever after. The end.” I sighed. I wish all stories could end that way. Oh well. You see, I was sitting in homeroom, and our teacher was reading us a story. It seems like all stories end that way. Well, all fairy tales, at least.
My name is Leah Joro. I’m ten years old. I have a twin sister. Her name is Bria. Just because we’re twins doesn’t mean we’re identical, though. Bria has straggly reddish hair and freckles. She has emerald green eyes and glasses. I have thick brown hair and blue eyes. I have a few freckles here and there, but they aren’t too obvious. My brother, Jesse, is thirteen. He looks like my mom. They both have thick blond hair, but my mom’s is longer. They have glasses, but only for reading. Mom has blue-green eyes. Jesse has blue eyes.
Anyway, I do wish real life stories would end that way. Mine usually don’t. For one thing, my family is moving. Mom got transferred with her job. I’m really upset. Bria’s happy, though. We’re moving to an island called Pakitite. It’s somewhere exotic. I think it sounds like a fish. Oh well. We’ll see what it’s like when we get there.
Chapter 2: Good-bye, America
“Come on, girls! We’re going to be late!” Mom screamed. I sighed. You should have seen her. She was loaded down with bags, and had two totally different earrings.
“Mom, your earrings!” Bria called, while I took the bags.
While Mom changed her earrings, Bria and I loaded our stuff into our minivan. We climbed into the back seat. Jesse was already in the van. Once Mom was in, we were on our way. Now, we lived in an apartment building before, but we were moving to a big house in the country. Mom said it would be a big change. I said it would only be a change for her. [ed. note: Ooh, she bad.]
Soon we were boarding the ferry for Pakitite. It was a looong ride, but it was exciting. Bria turned green as soon as she smelled the fish smell in the water. Jesse kept pretending her was going to fall overboard, which made Bria turn an even darker shade of green. Not really. He did almost make her faint, though.
Chapter 3: Welcome to Pakitite
Four hours later we came to an island that had a big sign that read WELCOME TO PAKITITE in big, bold letters. The ferry stopped and we got out. Our stuff was already at the house, so we didn’t have anything except some backpacks.
As we trudged along a looong dirt path that led to our house, I spotted a huge volcano lurking over us. [ed. note: Those damn sneaky volcanoes!] It was an ooey purple color with a snow-white peak. Colorful steam rose from the top. I winced in the bright sun.
“Mom,” I whispered, tugging her shirt.
“What?” she asked.
“What’s the name of that volcano?”
“Oh, um… Ichyara Srachyara.”
“Wow,” I said. “Long name.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence. [ed. note: That’s the second time in as many stories that I’ve used this exact sentence. Why so sullen, characters?] The path was rocky and shady. Huge trees, housing all the birds I could think of, towered over us. Finally, after what seemed like forever, we came to the house. It wasn’t exactly big, but it was nice. I smiled.
Mom said, “Well, how do you like it?”
“I love it!” Jesse and I exclaimed together.
“Let’s go inside,” Mom said. She opened the green door with a key. The house was really nice. It had white walls and tons of paintings hung everywhere. Upstairs, there were blue walls and tons of posters hung everywhere. The staircase was white. I walked up it. [ed. note: LOL but I don’t know why.] At the end of a long hall was my room. I opened the door. My walls were white and it was circular. It must have been one of the turrets. [Ah, of course.] There was a balcony outside of two glass doors. Across the room was a bay window with a window seat. My new room was awesome. [ed. note: 9-year-old me was a fucking BH&G-loving nerd.]
Chapter 4: Exploring
The next morning, when I woke up, the sky was painted pink, orange, red, and yellow. I crawled out of bed, and walked over to the glass doors. I flung them open and stepped outside. From my balcony I could see the volcano perfectly. I decided to go exploring on it.
After breakfast I went to the volcano. I stopped along the way to pick up my cousin, Terry. Terry has long brown hair, the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, and freckles. She’s good at exploring. Also she’s ten.
That day, as we climbed the volcano, I was a little shaky. I don’t really like heights. As soon as we were at the top, though, I was fine. Terry and I peered into the volcano together.
“Woah,” Terry whispered. “Look at all those colors.”
“Yeah,” I replied. The colors were beautiful. Reds, oranges, blues, greens, yellows, purples, and pinks swirled around. It was amazing. Then, as if it were waiting for us, a colorful mist rose from the crater.
Chapter 5: Ichy-Scrachy
The mist disappeared, and an elf stood at our feet. [ed. note: Obviously.]
“Who are you?” Terry asked. She was bent over in order to hear him.
“Me?” the elf squeaked. “Ichy-Scrachy.”
“Is that your name?”
“Yes.”
“Cool name,” I said.
“Whatever. I need you to help me,” Ichy-Scrachy said importantly.
“With what?” Terry raised her eyebrows.
“People keep getting sucked into the volcano,” he said. “And then big bubbles, with the people in them, float away.”
[ed. note: At this point I would like to take a moment to point out that I wrote this in 1996, 11 years before the Scientology episode of South Park in which this EXACT SAME scene takes place. Just saying.]
“Are you sure?” I asked. “It sounds kind of kooky to me.”
“Positive. Come look tonight,” he said.
“OK!” Terry called as we ran down the side of the volcano.
That night, after what seemed like decades, Terry and I reached the top of the volcano.
“Finally,” Ichy-Scrachy complained.
“Sorry.”
All of a sudden, the volcano started to shake.
“Here we go again!” Ichy-Scrachy said, hanging onto a rock. I peered into the volcano.
“Terry,” I whispered, “I’m going in.”
“What?!”
“Get a vine or something to pull me up with,” I said.
“OK,” she replied, shakily.
I stood on the edge of the crater and jumped in. Images of color swirled past me. I landed on a soft pink landing. People swarmed past me. I caught one by the arm.
“Hey,” I said. “Why are you down here?”
He sat down. “Well, many years ago, Zuce, a god, sent my parents down here. He poured melted bubble gum into the volcano, trying to drown my parents. It didn’t work. Over the years, Zuce kept putting innocent people in here. Zuce had a son, Ichy-Scrachy, who is trying to save us. Every five hours, the volcano bubbles, and people get stuck in the bubbles. They float away.”
“Wow,” I said. It was kind of sad. “We’ve got to stop this.”
“How?” he asked.
“Terry!” I called. “Send the rope down!”
In a matter of time, everyone was safe in the village. Ichy-Scrachy was in the volcano, and we had a huge wad of gum.
“Ready? One, two, three, NOW!” With that, Terry and I heaved the gum onto the volcano. Now it wouldn’t harm anyone anymore. You know what? Sometimes stories have happy endings after all.
The End
Wow. What began as an innocent emigration story/Punnett square quickly devolved into your typical volcano-elf-traps-tourists-in-gum-bubbles schtick. Why is it that I felt the need to describe things like the mom having on mismatched earrings, or even the other siblings at all, but barely even touched upon Ichy-Scrachy’s appearance? I described the house, for fuck’s sake. Also this story was crap. D+
