Janiele Allman Children's Story Writer

The Missing Beret

Emma disliked the new gift she had received from her favorite Aunt. But right now it didn’t matter, she was flying in for a visit and would certainly ask about the beret. Along with the beret there had been a cryptic note. Rifling through the nicks and corners of her closet scowling as she searched to no avail. She quickly ran downstairs to the mud closet in time to hear her Mom shout ‘ keep an eye on Boots’, as she closed the outer door.

Boots was her little brother who had never lost the nickname, Boots. The same Aunt had bought him a pair of boots in the shape of alligators when he was four. He pretty much never took them. Or never let anyone take them off him. He slept in them, bathed in them. It wasn’t until he couldn’t get his feet in them that he conceded to the fact that the day had arrived— he couldn’t wear them anymore. Since then, Boots had become a genuine entrepreneur. Anything and everything that looked like it was possible of no value to the owner, he confiscated.

Emma knew the beret must been taken, no stone was never unturned. Throwing her hands in the air and shouting to ceiling, ‘BOOTS’! It didn’t help; she knew he wasn’t home. Grabbing the phone, she rang Ron.

Veronica was Emma’s best friend. She hated her name and insisted that everyone who wanted to live call her Ron. She too had a younger brother who was friends with Boots. Emma knew for certain that he would be found there.

‘Hey’, answered Ron, ‘and, no they’re not here’. ‘Great’, muttered Emma. ‘Will you meet me at the Fork, I real-ly need to f-ind Him.’ ‘Yup’, and Ron rang off. She knew that tone. Emma had started using that tone right around the time Boots got his knick name.

‘Wonk, wonk, wonk, if you’d like to make a call, please hang up and dial again.’ Emma recoiled at sound and hung up the phone. ‘I don’t care what Mom, said. He’s dead.’ Slamming the door behind her, she headed for the Fork.

As Ron was walking to the Fork, she ran into Liam, her little brother. ‘Have you seen Boots?’, as she grabbed Liam’s collar to halt him. ‘Hey’, cried Liam. ‘Ya, what about it?, said Liam as he jerked himself free. ‘Did he have is selling kit?, Ron asked, crossing her arms. ‘Yay, again, what about it?’ Liam answered smugly. Taking a deep breath and lowering her voice an octave, Ron replied, ‘Look, I really don’t care. Emma’s looking for a hat of sorts and she thinks he took it. So was there a hat inside the kit or not?’. Liam, knew from experience that when Ron took a deep breath that his snippy manner would only lead to a beat down. Taking a step back, Liam said, ‘look, I only had a quick peak into the kit, because he was on his way to Lou’s. There wasn’t a hat in there, as he turned and took off running down the street.

‘So did Liam say whether or not Boots had my hat?’, said an exasperated Emma. ‘No.’ ‘What’s the big deal with this hat?, replied Ron. ‘No, he didn’t see it or, no he doesn’t have it?, blurted Emma. ‘No, he didn’t have it.’ Pausing for effect, ‘Emma, what’s the deal with this hat?’

Emma looked away. ‘I’m not sure. When my Aunt sent it to me there was this note attached. I think it said, if you don’t like it, please don’t loose it.’ ‘Will you help me look for?’

They arrived back at the house just as her parents were pulling into the driveway. Emma looked at Ron and whispered, ‘Crap!’

‘Emma, where’s Boots?’, asked her Mom as she opened the mud room door. Trailing behind her Dad as he wheeled her Aunt’s suitcase, ‘He said he was going to Lou’s with his treasures’, she said she sheepishly.

Aunt Sybil stopped suddenly, and bent down and pull the beret from the cat’s bed. She turned and winked at Emma, and said, ‘Good hiding place Emma!’