Heylloooo to you all!  Me, Pip, and my two little siblings have decided to write a book together. The book is called "Popchanka" and we hope you enjoy this wild tale! We hope to work on it every time we get the chance. We'd really appreciate comments. Be sure to view our profile for a wider glimpse into the world of the Armour siblings. God bless you, dear Reader!

The three Graces trooped downstairs, leaving Jake to sit by himself on the roof. "You can sit there til the cows come home!" Violet shouted at him, then ran down the stairs two at a time.

Andy was the first one to get to the kitchen; looking around, he quickly hid his three kittens in his hoodie pocket when he noticed the fridge standing in the corner. Violet dragged a stool to the counter, climbed on top of it, and wrenched open a cabinet door. "I'm STARVIN'," she declared. She suddenly fell silent. Deker turned around and stared. Lining the cabinets were packages of crackers, a few things of jams and jelly, a couple old dusty packs of instant soup which had never been opened, and a can of mustard. Andy's kittens, peeping from their hiding place in his hoodie pocket, screamed.

"There ain't no FOOD in there!" they squeaked. It was true; so much for getting dinner. Andy groaned and gave Violet a grimace. "We'll just have to make do," he said. Walking over, he opened the door of the fridge (greatly exciting the kittens) and rifled around. Deker pulled out a trash can and cleared out the cabinet. "I wonder what Granny actually eats," he pondered. Violet giggled and sat on the counter, banging her heels against the cabinets under her. "Prolly she eats worms from the yard!" she shouted. Andy turned and gave her a withering glare.

"We HAVE to go shopping," he said, shaking his head. "There's only some cheese and ham in the fridge, and a few gallons of milk." He stood on tiptoe and opened the freezer, where he saw a few bags of ice, some frozen strawberries, and a frostbitten fish. The kittens were very enthusiastic about this latest development in the realm of munching, and they attacked the frozen fish with gusto.

"We could make sandwiches," Deker suggested, pulling out a loaf of white bread from another cabinet.

"EW!" Violet protested, jumping off the counter and running in mad circles. "I don't like sandwiches! Let's order PIZZA!"

Andy pried the kittens from the smelly frozen fish--who knew how long it had sat in there!--and gave Deker a despairing look. "That might not be such a bad idea," he said, "considering we can only make some measly sandwiches from all this mess."

"With pineapple!" Violet shrieked in Deker's ear.

"ANCHOVIEEEEES!" the kittens chorused, dancing around.

"NO, we're not having anchovies!" Andy yelled.

"Get some snacks and we'll order some pizza or something in my room," Deker said, grabbing the white bread and the cheese. Andy quickly shut the freezer before the kittens could get at the fish again, snatched up the ham, and followed his older brother upstairs. Violet rushed into Granny's room, gave her a peck on the cheek, and then pounded back up the stairs, leaving her grandmother to stare after her.

Once the three Graces had clamored into Deker's attic room once more, Jake peered down from the skylight. "Order cupcakes!" he demanded. Violet threw her head back and laughed. "Yeah, get some cupcakes!" she yelled.

"Junk food, junk food, JUNK FOOD," Andy chanted.

"Good food!" Jake shouted down at him.

"Let's just rot our teeth out!" Andy said, waving his arms around. The kittens giggled. Deker rummaged around in his backpack and pulled out his cell phone, making Andy laugh. Violet grabbed it away from him and screamed, "Let's all order big COMBOS!" She flipped open the cell phone and shouted into it. "Hi, what's up, who's in there?" Jake snarled something about cupcakes and meat.

Deker wrestled his phone back and cleared his throat. "Go take a bath," he told Violet.

Violet frowned up at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded. Andy laughed and pushed her out into the hallway. Violet shrugged and ran into her bathroom, turning the water on high and stopping up the drain. "I'll drown," she warned, poking her head out her door. "This bathtub is HUGE."

"You won't drown, yo!" Jules the Tomato screeched, jumping from his hiding place on the bookshelves. The kittens laughed and pawed at him, making him scream. "Get these nuts away from meee!" he shouted.

"Whaddya mean, nuts?" Andy asked him.

"ICE CREAM!" Violet's voice floated in from her room above the roar of the water tap.

Deker sighed and looked around. "Andy, restrain your kittens; Jules, don't be a wimp; Violet, we can't have ice cream and--"

"I'M DROWNING!" Violet's voice declared.

"NO YOU ARE NOT!" Deker replied, and, looking up the number in a dusty phone book which he'd discovered lying under his cot, called the local pizza place.

"Yeah, Pepperoni Pleasure services here, what can I get for ya?"

"You can get anchovies!" the kittens all three commanded, latching their sharp little claws into Deker's shoulder.

"Cupcakes!" Jake grinned.

"YEAH!" Violet screamed from the bathroom. She raced in, a huge soft towel wrapped around herself, and pranced about the attic.

"Get back in your bath!" Deker said to her.

"...Huh?" said the pizza guy.

"Oh, uh, sorry; we want to order--"

"ANCHOVIES!"

"NO! We don't want anchovies, you nimcompoop!" Deker said to the kittens. The pizza guy was thrown into stunned silence. Andy frowned at his brother for calling his characters a nasty name and Violet laughed wildly up at Jake.

"Take that back, Deker, or..."

"We want one cheese," Deker shouted desperately, "and one--"

Violet ran back and jumped headfirst into her bathtub, splashing water all over the place.

"Just make it two cheeses!" Deker shouted something about the address.

"Get off of him!" Andy cried, trying to pull his kittens off Deker's shirt. "Get off the PHONE!"

"Got it?" Deker coughed, then snapped the cell phone shut and threw it on his bed. "I'm exhausted," he said.

Ten minutes passed with the chaos consisting of Violet jumping in and out of her bathtub, not actually getting clean; Andy scolding his kittens; and Deker trying to keep Jules from jumping out of the window from shock. The doorbell rang just as Violet struggled into her pajamas. "I'll get it!" she shrieked, and threw herself downstairs.

"She's in her nightgown..." Andy said slowly.

Violet ripped open the door, looked up at the nerdy little pizza delivery guy, and said, "Yo, man! Where is my pizza? I'm hungry!" The guy quickly handed her the two boxes, which were warm from the fresh, fragrant pizza, and Violet pounded up the stairs again.

"Finally," said Daimon, walking in suddenly. "I heard you were ordering some kind of meal, may I partake of it?"

"But WHY does pizza sauce HAVE to be made of tomatoes?!" Jules demanded, but no one bothered to answer him.

The three Graces and their characters spent a happy evening munching on pizza in the attic room, getting the slices of pizza confused. Daimon was enthralled by the modern food and ate it happily, the kittens were disappointed at the lack of anchovies but were consoled when Andy drew from his bag a can of tuna, and Violet (as always) got the biggest piece when no one was looking.

That night, the two younger Grace children climbed wearily into their beds, happy and full and eager to see what the next day would bring. But just as peace was finally settling over the house and Granny was snoring softly, a thunderstorm rolled in from the west and beat about the house with crashing thunder and crackling lightning. The kittens got fluffy and climbed into Andy's bed, wiggling around until they woke him up. "Make us a milk shake!" they ordered him. Andy sighed and crept downstairs, watching the rooms light up and fill with shadows every time the lightning flashed. He quietly made a strawberry milk shake and ran back upstairs, bare feet pounding the carpet on the stairway. He didn't happen to look behind him, in the shadows of the kitchen, where Caspar stared with glinting red eyes after him, a crafty expression etched across his face.

Violet screamed and woke up from a bad dream. She saw Andy's thin little figure crossing the hallway and decided to follow him up his secret tunnel to Deker's room. The thunder was snarling above them as Violet delicately stepped around Jake's hulking figure, sleeping peacefully on the floor of her room.

Deker sat typing on his laptop, the light from the screen casting an eerie glow on the wall behind him and Jules snoring loudly on the bookshelves, when Andy and Violet crashed into the attic.

"HEEEEEEELP!" Andy screamed, holding aloft his milk shake. "They won't get off!" Deker looked up, startled, and saw that the kittens had attached themselves to the rim of the cup and were trying to slurp up its contents. Violet jumped in Deker's lap and climbed under the covers.

"We can't sleep," she sniffed. Andy got some leftover pizza and nibbled on it as the thunder crashed outside and the lightning lit up the walls of the attic room. Somehow it was safe here, sitting with his siblings on the cot in the darkness. Everything was safe and it was the beginning of summer.

The three Graces were fast asleep as the falling rain stilled to a drip and slipped off the evergreen branches. The ground was sodden as Jake, taking a midnight walk in the cool winds, prowled silently about the grounds of Granny's house. He stepped delicately like a cat, his tail lashing back and forth. The sky was dark with retreating clouds and shadows flitted in and out between the woods. No lights were on inside the house as the young dragon watched the moon peer from behind the clouds. He suddenly turned as he sensed a movement behind him. His piercing sapphire eyes shot into the shadows but he could see nothing. Unsettled, he spread his great multicolored wings and rose into the sky like a blue mist advancing into the heavens.

Red eyes glowed in the darkness of the pine woods. Caspar leaned against the tree, watching Jake fly away, then looking towards the house where the three Graces slept, ignorant of anything wrong. Upon Caspar's sharp face was a frightening expression of triumph.

The tall pine trees were covered with sunlight. Andy noticed this as he struggled to free himself first from the seat belt which had decided to hate him, and secondly from the meowing, clawing bundle of kittens as they slowly awoke from their peaceful purring, and made it a point to climb up his shirt. Violet was already pounding at the door, Mr. Grace was trying to get her to quit, and Jules the Talking Tomato was bouncing all around Deker's shoulder in hopes of seeing his Author's grandmother. Finally, after about five minutes of shouting and gallivanting, the three Grace siblings stood holding various bags, bundles, suitcases and laptop bags, and looking up at the sprawling manor. It was a very old house, and wild ivy choked the dark wooden walls. A mess of honeysuckle was in full bloom around the side, where a small balcony jutted out from Andy's room. He'd claimed the room with the balcony the first time the Graces had spent the summer with their grandmother. The inspiration of the wind blowing his hair as he stood atop his balcony near a pine tree, looking out at the sparkling lake, was worth the fight with Violet for the room.

Mr. Grace finally pried Violet away from the door and, straightening her unruly mop of hair as best he could, rang the doorbell like a civil guest. He stepped back and the four waited while the wind blew gently on their flushed faces, which were hot from traveling so long. Deker looked around the forest which engulfed the surroundings, and thought he saw Caspar grinning at him from one of the shadows...but he couldn't be sure. Andy had managed to stuff his three fluffy kittens into a pillow case, where they giggled and tumbled over one another. Violet winked at Jake the young dragon, balancing perched in a pine limb, the shafts of sunlight glittering in his multicolored wings.

Suddenly the door swung open and the Graces beheld their grandmother. They'd nearly forgotten her tight little bun, the wrinkles in her powdered face, the erect way she carried herself, like a proper Victorian gentlewoman.

"GRANDMA!" screamed Violet, and gave the old woman a bear hug. Andy was more polite about his greeting: "Hi, Granny, how are you doing?" Their grandmother finally freed herself from Violet's excited grip with a little gasp, and forced a smile. "Just the same. Terrible!" Mr. Grace laughed and put an arm around the thin shoulders.

"I'm sure happy you three have decided to waste your summer with an old woman like me," sniffed Granny, and smiled. She was stern, but she could also be fun when the mood struck.

Granny led her three grandchildren and Mr. Grace into the dimly lit parlor. Fine china vases and valuable figurines adorned the wooden shelves and embroidered pillows lay upon the peach colored couch. Andy looked around at the breakables, peeped into his pillow case at the kittens, and gulped.

"Would you care for some tea?" Granny asked Mr. Grace, who heartily accepted. She led him into the tiny kitchen, stuffed with teas, spices, strings of onions and hickory-cured hams dragged up from Virginia. Violet was bouncing up and down shouting something about her room, and Granny smiled down at her. Andy couldn't help but notice the cold, semi-hidden disapproval in his grandmother's eyes, but quickly shrugged off the feeling. She was just a kind old lady.

"You three can go and settle into your rooms," she said. Violet shrieked and flew up the red carpeted stairs, Barbie dolls dropping out of her Wal-Mart sacks of "things to keep her busy". Andy cast a sideways look at Granny, grabbed a gingersnap from a small glass cookie jar, and scuttled up the stairs smiling to himself.

Violet burst into her room in the second story of Granny's great house. It was a large purple room with a big window seat stuffed with toys and pillows from last summer. A television set stood in one corner and various playthings were thrown all about the room. "I need to CLEAN!" she yelled at herself. But instead of cleaning, Violet opened all the windows and turned on her CD player the loudest it could go. The carpet was made of thick stuff, dyed pink and purple swirls. She flipped on the fan, hurled a doll into a plastic toaster, ripped out the rainbow barrettes from her hair and jumped into the empty bathtub. Violet cooed with pleasure at the spa buttons on her deep slippery bathtub. The small adjoining bathroom was painted bright pink and lacy decorations hung above the sink. She could hardly wait for that evening, when she could soak in her own private spa!

After a while, Violet decided to travel across the hallway to Andy's room. Peering in, she watched her brother get settled in his bedroom. His room was divided into three different studios, one for writing, one for crafting and one for artwork. The walls were painted light blue; posters, pictures and decorations were hung all over it, just like his little nook at home in New York City. His bed was right smack dab in the middle, and the poufy mattress was covered with blankets and pillows. The door to the balcony was in the corner, and the door to Andy's closet was right beside it. He flew onto his bed and started the long and rather painful process of trying to pry his kittens from his slippers, tempting them with his gingersnap.

"Where's Jake?" Violet demanded, hands cocked on hips. Andy gasped as the little orange tabby delved into his backpack searching for food, shouting as it did so, "FRIDGE!"...which was the three kittens' password for snacktime.

"NO! You can't have a snick right now!" Andy wailed, wiping invisible perspiration from his pale forehead.

"Let's go and see if Deker knows where my naughty dragon is," Violet said. She brushed past her brother, flew into his closet, and opened the hidden door to a stairway in the side of the house leading up to the attic. Andy made sure his door was shut and that his kittens wouldn't be able to get out, and followed his little sister up the narrow, dark stairs, brushing aside the cobwebs and coughing at the dust that had settled since last summer.

Deker's room was a small shadowy attic cranny, with a skylight and cedarwood bookshelves that reached up into the low dark ceiling. Managing to stuff Jules into his pocket, Deker breathed in the scent of cedar and old books, his fantasy novels kept safely in the forests of New York for summer reading, and sat down on his thin cot, liking the squeak it made. Jules protested mightily at his uncomfortable situation, and Deker pulled him from his pocket and set him on the bed next to his black laptop computer bag.

"Man, what's up with thet, anyhoo?!" Jules demanded in his high-pitched voice. Deker ignored him and began unpacking. He didn't notice his two younger siblings as they stifled giggles and tried to creep up on him from behind. Deker looked up and saw that thick pine branches had obstructed his view through the skylight. He stood up on his cot, pushed the skylight window free of the branches, and jumped up to perch on the edge of the skylight to better clear off his skylight, and breathe in the fresh spicy air. Violet shrugged, not caring if her plan of scaring her older brother had flunked, and wandered around the attic after Andy.

There suddenly came a surprised exclamation and the scratching sounds of Deker clearing away the branches from his skylight windowpane stopped. "Jake's here on the roof," came his annoyed voice. Violet shouted and hopped up and down with anger.

"Jake, you get off the roof right now or you won't have any cupcakes!" she shrilled. Andy craned his neck to see his older brother crossing his arms and frowning in front of him.

"Now Jake," he said to the mischevious young dragon sitting perched on the roof before him, "obey your Authoress and come down this instant." Daimon, who'd been absent through most of this, strode into the room and gave a shocked gasp. "Is that young dragon misbehaving AGAIN?" he demanded, fingering the hilt of his sword. Violet glared at him and stuck out her tongue. She didn't much care for her brother's knight-character.

Suddenly Deker grew very quiet, stopping his pleadings for Jake to get down. His grandmother was standing below him on the ground, talking to him.

"Deker," she said, "who are you talking to?" Deker slowly turned around and grinned. "No one, Granny, it's alright; I was just clearing the branches away from my window." His excuse ended in a cough as Mr. Grace walked from the manor and waved up at him.

"Bye, kids, I love you!" Mr. Grace called. There was a chorus of shouted goodbyes and Mr. Grace drove off through the woods.

"Come down and get yourselves some dinner, and then you can carry on with your settling in," Granny said. Her eyebrow was raised, still looking past Deker to where only he, Andy and Violet could see the naughty dragon waving his tail back and forth, grinning like a crocodile.

Andy gave a small sigh; it was going to be a long summer.

Chapter Four

It was four and a half hours to grandma's, and meanwhile the three Graces amused themselves by watching Lord of the Rings on the little transportable DVD player.

"Oh great," Violet groaned when the last strains of ethereal music faded away, "we forgot the joystick!"

"Woopeee!" Andy yelled and Violet pouted to herself. Jules was hopping around Deker, who rested his forehead in his hands.

Mr. Grace, of course, saw none of this. He thought Violet was waving to a passing car as she saw Jake flying above them, the sun glinting on his colorful wings.

"It's lunch time," he suddenly declared. There was a chorus of "Yay!" as Mr. Grace pulled the car into the parking lot of a secondhand diner.

"Morely's Diner," read Andy. He reached over and shook Violet, who'd fallen asleep during the five minutes everything had been silent.

The Graces tumbled out of the car and walked, stretching their cramped limbs, into the diner. As soon as they opened the door, the smells of burning burgers, grease and cigarette smoke met their noses.

"It's STINKS IN HERE!" Violet shouted as they slipped into a dirty little table in the corner.

"Shhh!" Mr. Grace quickly hushed his daughter, who picked up a broken crayon and began scribbling on the paper tablecloth.

Several heads turned. "Did you hear that little girl?" asked an old man of his wife.

"Aw, I think she's a purty little thang!" his wife replied in a high-pitched voice. Violet looked embarrassed for a moment, then gave the old woman a pompous smile.

At that moment a beefy-lipped waiter came to the table, holding a notepad. "What'll it be, yous guys?" he asked in a decidedly New York voice.

"I want a slushie!" Violet shouted. Deker frowned at her.

"Sorry, dollface, we don't sale slushies here, we do have sodas." The waiter looked as though he'd be a good criminal in one of those police movies. He'd be the leader of a gang of robbers. Violet stared at him half in fascination and half out of anger that he had called her "dollface".

"We'll just have four hot dogs and four ice waters," Mr. Grace said, wondering what had happened to his menu. Deker chanced to look down at the dirty red carpet, littered with paper scraps, and saw Jules with the menu propped up in front of him, reading curiously.

"Four hawt dawgs and four ice wateh's, comin' up," said the gangster waiter, walking off with a bored expression on his shady face.

"Hey, how can I order a non-vegetarian hamburger, no tomato?" asked Jules in his high, shrill little voice. Deker's face looked pained for one second.

"I'll be right back," he mumbled. He caught Jules up and walked quickly through the cloud of cigarette smoke to the bathroom.

"Andy, you look green, are you okay?" Violet asked.

"I think I'm gonna barf," Andy moaned. "I wanna get out of here," he muttered to his dad. Mr. Grace didn't look too peachy himself.

"Wait til we have our lunch, and then we'll drive on to grandma's," Mr. Grace murmured back.

"How did you get in the diner," Deker demanded, setting Jules on the bathroom sink and facing him, hands on hips.

"I wanted to have lunch!" Jules squeaked.

"Tomatoes don't have lunch!" Deker snapped, right as the door opened and a skinny teenage boy walked in, his baggy blue jeans hung with chains and a white skull painted on his shirt.

"Outta my way, freak," said the boy. Jules looked concerned as the boy pushed Deker aside and washed his dirty nails under the tap. "Don't you push my Author around!" Jules shouted, hopping up and down. Of course, the boy didn't see or hear him, but he saw the look Deker gave the invisible tomato and thought it was directed to him.

"What are you lookin' at?" said the boy. His hair was dyed blue and cut into a mohawk.

"I'm looking at my character!" Deker muttered. The boy slowly turned around.

"Your WHAT?"

"Here's yer food, enjoy," said the gangster waiter, setting four slimy hot dogs on the table and giving Violet's cheek a pinch.

Mr. Grace stared down at his lunch as though it was a rotten fish. "Is this what they call food?" he wondered to himself.

Andy cautiously took a bite. "WHAT DID THEY PUT IN HERE?" he yelled, spitting out the hot dog. "Last week's garbage?!" Mr. Grace tried to shush him, but he was too late. Everyone in the diner turned around and started whispering.

"Who does that boy think he is, I think the food's real good!"

Violet happily ate her hot dog, not seeming to notice the horrible taste, and sipped at her ice water.

"Try another taste," Mr. Grace told his son. Andy screwed up his eyes and took another bite. His face turned white, then green, then blue. He clapped his hands over his mouth, rushed to the bathroom, and locked himself in the biggest stall.

Deker moved to the sink and tried to scoop Jules up, but the feisty tomato was hopping all around, shouting in his squeaky voice. "You can't push my Author and get away with it, lemme at him!"

"Shut your mouth," Deker hissed. Jules grumpily jumped to his shoulder. Deker was turning to go when the punky teenager grabbed a fistful of his shirt and shoved him up against the wall. "You wanna make me?" he snarled.

"I wasn't talking to you," Deker replied, his voice low and menacing. Andy groaned and laid down on the floor. "What's going on?" he asked weakly. The hot dog bits hadn't set well with him and he needed a moment to calm his churning stomach.

"There ain't no one else here, freak," said the punk. Jules whimpered. "You'd better take that back or I'll sock ya one."

Deker's black eyes narrowed and he pushed the punk's hands off his shirt. Without realizing it he lapsed into the language Daimon spoke, high-brow speech that flowed off the tongue with grace. "I will take back nothing, for there is nothing to take back," he told the punk to his face. The punk gave a low growl and before Deker knew what was happening, the strange boy's fist came hurtling forward and struck him in the jaw. Deker gave a beast-like snarl and fell on the boy, pummeling his face with his knuckles.

"Deker?!" Andy said, alarmed. He heard grunting and slapping noises, and hard breathing. He also heard Jules giving frightened squeaks rather like a mouse. Then he peeked through the stall door and saw some weird teenager boy on the floor, Deker sitting on his chest, beating the tar out of him. Then he heard the metallic whisper of Daimon's sword and his powerful voice filled the bathroom.

"Give me the word, Author, and I will run to your aid!" the gallant knight cried. Andy felt the tickling heat and Caspar materialized in the shady corner, beside the hand dryer.

"Beat him, beat him, punch him to death," the villain chanted, but whether he was rooting for Deker or the punk, Andy could not be sure. Andy, never one for fights, ran out of his stall, letting the door bang open, grabbed Jules the Tomato and ran out into the diner to get his father.

"Don't you ever treat me that way again," Deker said through clenched teeth, bruising the boy's face. He could feel Caspar's pleasure as he punched the punk again and again, who squirmed helplessly under him.

"My Author, abate!" cried Daimon, sheathing his sword and trying to pull Deker off the boy. "King Luther would not be pleased with your violent actions!" Deker whirled around, his eyes blazing, his glasses cracked, his thick mop of hair tousled and damp. Daimon staggered back at the rage seething in Deker's eyes; he could feel Caspar give a slow grin behind him. Suddenly Deker sighed and got off the boy. He offered his hand to the punk, mumbling an apology. "I should not have acted thus, and for that I am-" But before he could say anything else, the blue-haired boy dug his shoulder into Deker's stomach, pushing him aside. Deker fell and cut his cheek on the sharp metal edge of the hand dryer. Caspar laughed madly, Daimon cried out in horror and caught Deker as he fell back in astonishment, and the punk was lunging for Deker again when the door crashed open and Mr. Grace strode in.

"What's going on here?" he shouted. Violet came trailing in after him, even though it was a boy's room. She saw the blood dripping down her brother's cheek and gave a cry of anger.

"Who did that to you?" she yelled, and would have attacked the punk, who was slinking ashamedly out the door, herself had not Daimon caught her up and held her tightly. Andy stood in the doorway, shrinking back as the punk brushed past him, Jules sitting in a squishy ball on his shoulder. Mr. Grace did not see Caspar disappear, nor did he see Daimon grip his Author's shoulder before vanishing into the thin air. He wet a paper towel and pressed it to Deker's cheek. Deker winced but didn't say anything. The Grace family paid for their cheesy meal, trooped out to the car, and drove along the freeway in a sober silence. Andy played his CDs and stroked his kittens, Violet half-heartedly tried to play with her dolls and wave to Jake flying in the cloudless blue sky, and Deker sat huddled in his seat by the window, letting the hot wind slip through his hair, typing furiously on his laptop. Andy wondered how many battles there were sofar in his novel as Mr. Grace pulled the car into a booming city along the way and stopped in a church parking lot. He turned around and looked at his oldest son.

Deker tapped his fingers against the keys and sighed. He met his father's eyes square and Mr. Grace saw the pain and the sorrow etched on Deker's face.

"What I did was wrong, I should have walked away," Deker said. Violet and Andy turned to look at their brother. His voice was unusually soft and held a haunted strain to it. "Daimon was right, King Luther would not be pleased." Deker whispered this to himself. Jules sat upon his shoulder, quiet for once. Mr. Grace gave a smile and started up the car again.

"I see you are truly repentant," said Mr. Grace, driving straight for a Golden Corral. Violet and Andy gave each other a high five. "We'll say no more about it."

The taut austere expression in Deker's black eyes left, and he suddenly felt like whooping. He leaned his head out the window, nearly losing his glasses to the blast of wind, and cried "WAAAHOOOO!" to anyone that cared to listen.

The Graces, after a pleasantly decent lunch, drove on and on. Nothing more was said about Deker's fight, it had been a release of pent-up fury at something and Mr. Grace understood that. He knew his son, although odd and dark-natured, was a good boy deep down inside, it just took some fighting to find it. He had faith Deker would fight his anger and melancholy, and prove to be valiant a knight as his character Daimon he sometimes talked eagerly about.

Andy was just giving the kittens the last of his tuna in the travel can when the tall trees and curving roads began. Half an hour later, the Grace's car pulled into a cottage surrounded by pines and stopped in the driveway.

Violet came blasting out of the car. "GRANDMA," she shouted in her loud piercing voice, "WE'RE HERE!!!"

Chapter Three

The next week was spent in wild packing, finding lost socks, rechecking of library books, the indecision of which CDs to leave behind, various occasions of packing and repacking because Violet kept stuffing all her Barbie dolls into the suitcase her clothes were supposed to go in, and general mayhem. Mr. and Mrs. Grace helped all they could but for the most part, they let the siblings pack their own style.

"WHERE IS MY SWIMMING SUIT?" Violet shrilled one afternoon. The sun was baking the asphalt outside, birds were too sleepy to sing and ice cream dripped into the duck pond in the park. "Andy," Violet sang out, waltzing into their room, "do you know where Jake is? He's gone hiding again; I wish he was still so small I could pack him into my suitcase whenever we go somewhere!" The little girl's face was flushed from running in the heat and the blistering sunshine shone in through the half-open window. Andy, surrounded by T-shirts, gnawed pencils and baseball caps, looked up from his packing. "Nope," he said.

Violet threw her hands up in the air and growled. "Grr!" She turned on her heel and raced to her bed, grabbed a long piece of yarn, and ran back out.

"Deker, do you think I should take two sketch pads with a little paper, or one with a lot of paper?" Andy saw with a small shudder that Deker was untacking the grumpy dragon poster and folding it into his computer bag, which also doubled as a suitcase. "I suppose I'll just bring the one," Andy decided when his older brother bashed his head on the ceiling and muttered something.

Violet came running back in, bringing Jake the young dragon in on his yarn leash. "He was ON the ROOF!" she yelled. Jake was grinning ear to ear, panting from the heat.

Deker suddenly shouted something unintelligible and vaulted out of his bed and to the ground. He raced past Violet and Jake and into the kitchen. Andy heard a whoosh as the fridge door was opened and heard a familiar voice complaining.

"Why'd ya leave me in there, huh?" shouted Jules the Tomato. Deker sighed and slowly climbed up into his bed again to resume his packing, setting Jules on the headboard.

"WELL?" Jules demanded as Deker pulled a blue and purple flip-flop out from under his pillow. "Where did this come from?" he asked.

Violet giggled. "That's Andy's!" she screamed, and ran off to brush her teeth. No one quite understood why Violet insisted upon brushing her teeth in the middle of the afternoon, but it made her happy. Jake followed her, invisible to everyone except the three Graces.

"I've been looking for that for EVER!" Andy said, grabbing the flip-flop and ramming it onto his foot.

"I suppose that this little trip might delay your progress upon your novel, Author," said a voice. Deker turned around and saw Daimon, his knight.

"Hey, Daimon, how's it going?" Andy asked pleasantly, popping a stick of chewing gum into his mouth.

"It will be but a few days, Daimon," Deker answered and shoved his laptop bag closed. With a snarl he realized he'd forgotten to put the actual laptop into the bag and began prowling around for his bright orange book bag. "We will be working on our writings at grandma's, harbor no fear in your heart about that."

Mrs. Grace came in, her blond hair swept up into a ponytail, her cheeks red from the humidity. "Almost done packing?" she asked. Daimon leaned against the wall grinning at her back; only Andy and Deker could see him make a funny face at their mother. Deker grinned lopsidedly and Andy grimaced at the knight.

"I think we're all ready for Dad to drive us to grandma's tomorrow," Andy replied, setting his tennis shoes beside his things. "If we can fit everything into the car and get up on time, that is."

Mrs. Grace laughed and helped her sons to haul their junk into the living room. They set everything by the front door for the next morning. Mercifully, the neighbors downstairs just played several rounds of pool, no football games were coming on, so the three Graces managed to get some sleep.

Violet was strapped into the car way before anyone else.

"Honey, did you...you know..." Mrs. Grace said.

"Yeah, I did AGES ago, when are we gonna GO?" Violet wailed. "Hurry UP!"

Mr. Grace came out of the apartment building, nearly falling over under the weight of suitcases, book bags, Wal-Mart sacks of swimming suits and stacks and stacks of books.

"I hope you kids have a nice time this summer," Mrs. Grace said, giving Andy a hug.

"You two have a good time!" Andy replied, shoving Violet out of his seat by the window.

"But I WANNA SIT BY A WINDOW!" Violet snapped, jumping up and down against her seat belt.

"It's Andy's turn to sit by the window," Deker said, coming out of the building carrying his big pillow and laptop bag.

"Oh NO, I forgot my portable CD player!" Violet said frantically.

Mr. Grace sighed and looked pleadingly at his oldest son. Mrs. Grace laughed and made sure everything was securely stuffed into the trunk while Deker ran back to their room for the CD player.

When he came back, the sun was directly overhead and the Graces were several minutes behind. "When's lunch?" Violet demanded, taking the CD player and turning on the Spirit soundtrack.

"Are we all set?" asked Mr. Grace.

"MY KITTENS!" Andy suddenly yelped. He flew out the car, nearly plowing Deker down, and into the building. Mrs. Grace gave him one last peck on the cheek as he came out, carrying his fluffy pillow.

"They wouldn't get off of it," he whispered as he piled back into the car. Only Violet and Deker could see the wallowing puffs of black, white and orange fur on Andy's pillow.

Mr. Grace kissed his wife goodbye. "See you tonight," he said. Mrs. Grace nodded and waved as he got into the car. "You two obey your older brother," she shouted. A passerby turned to look curiously at the proverbial gypsy tea wagon preparing to depart, and at the thee Graces inside. Andy hid his face and Violet waved at them and tried to look cool.

"Are we almost there?" asked Violet as Mr. Grace grasped the steering wheel and moved to start the car.

Chapter Two

The three Grace siblings were quiet over supper; except for the usual spilling of Violet's cup of water all down her shirt front, the family ate in silence. Mr. Grace, who worked long hours in the downtown part of New York City, came home tired as usual. He did seem happy, though, for the fact that he and Mrs. Grace would be spending the summer at the seaside. As soon as the children were told their parents' plans, Violet peppered him with questions about whether or not there would be jellyfish, Andy tried to smile and act enthusiastic when his heart really longed to see the seashore and to draw it if he could, and Deker ate with mechanic motions, not saying a word, his black eyes moody.

That night, Andy sat on the lower mattress of the bunk bed, his legs crossed. He scooted the numerous doodlepads, books and colorful blankets to the end of the bed and rolled over, heaving a sigh. The night was still young, the neighbors in the apartment below them had not yet begun their nighttime partying. Mr. and Mrs. Grace came to tuck Violet in. They straightened the sheet that hung from the ceiling, making a little hideaway for her. Violet waited until her parents had left the room, then jumped up and began dancing around, babbling to her brothers about grandma's house. She nearly stepped on her collection of CDs as she danced a jig with a headless doll.

"I wish I could see jellyfish and sharks!" she yelped in a squeaky voice. "I bet grandma never saw those things!"

Andy rolled over, tangling his sheets, and stared at her, a small smile on his lips. "I doubt Mom and Dad will see those things if they're just strolling along the beach and having a romantic vacation by candlelight." Violet made a hurling sound and Deker gave a small groan from the top bunk. Andy grinned and went into the kitchen for a evening snack of Oreos and mango guava. Violet wriggled around in her pink ballerina sheets until she found a comfy position, then gave a small sigh and fell asleep.

Andy came in and climbed back into his bed. He had a feeling that this was going to be a long night, so he took up one of his note pads, grabbed a pen from under the bed and make the finishing touches on a picture of a sneaky black fox. Pens and pencils were scattered over the plaid sheets, pillows lined the white walls and various crafts in progress lay here and there. Several yellow curls fell over Andy's pale forehead as he concentrated on his work, and the comforting sound of the soft keys of Deker's laptop drifted down from the top bunk.

The city lights outside the single window drew brighter as the sunset faded into a velvety black. Violet sighed in her sleep and murmured something about chipmunks.

Finally, Andy was finished with his drawing and fell out of his bed, nearly spilling his half-full cup of mango guava juice, his back brushing against one of the many paintings that were taped to the wall. He climbed the iron rungs of their bunk bed and clambered onto Deker's puffy black sheets. His older brother was huddled under the blankets and the muffled sound of furious typing reached Andy's ears. Deker must be writing a battle scene.

"Hey," Andy said, "I finished that drawing of Shadow I promised Violet. Think she'll like it?"

He heard a pause in the typing and then a distracted "Hmm..." Andy sat on the black sheets, gazing up at the array of fantasy and space posters tacked on the wall to cover up the dirty white paint. There was a new one, a slate gray dragon curled around his horde of gold, his reddish brown eyes glowering. Andy stared into the eyes until his own went cross-eyed.

"Oh, I see you got a new poster," Andy said delicately, clearing his throat. Deker shoved the covers aside, burying Andy in them. Yes, he'd been writing a battle scene; his black eyes still gleamed, his glasses were perched crazily on the tip of his long sharp nose, and his hair was wild. Andy handed him his drawing of Violet's character Shadow, a black fox who caused all sorts of mischief to her Barbie dolls. For of course, Violet wrote about her adventures with her dolls in big, galloping scrawl on sheets of printer paper.

Deker took the drawing and stared at it a long while. "That's very good," he finally said, handing it back. He suddenly gave a nutty grin and said "Talent you have!" in a Yoda voice. Andy burst out laughing and was obliged to smother his snorts in the sleeve of his green hoodie.

Deker typed for a short moment, his long fingers scrabbling over the keyboard like two spiders. Andy tried to ignore the glaring dragon poster. What was that guy's problem, anyway? "So," Deker finally said, "what do you think about us three staying alone with grandma this summer?"

"I'm nervous," Andy confessed, tucking his knees up into his hoodie. "I'm afraid the kittens are going to run wild and scare her half to death, and I have no idea what I'll do without my toy bugs! Oh, speaking of the kittens, I threatened to put them in my school locker and I think they'll behave now and stay out of the fridge...for a while, at least." He gave his brother a wink. "I mean, I'm glad Mom and Dad are finally taking a break, I guess I shouldn't be complaining, it's just..."

At that moment there was a crash from one of the rooms under them. Andy looked at his watch. "Noisy neighbor time," he said. A faint smell of smoke drifted in; Jake was on the prowl. Andy monkeyed down to his bunk and waited for the nighttime rituals. "I'd better hide my mango guava," he decided, and taking one last sip, scuttled to the kitchen and stuck it in the freezer. When he came back, there were three kittens playing around in his sheets.

"Hey, don't eat my pens!" Andy yelped at his kittens. One, a black tom, stared up at him.

"Ink tastes good!" he said. Andy scowled. "Ink does NOT taste good, especially when it's from my pens!" The other two kittens, one orange tabby and one snowy white puff, giggled at each other. They loved making their Author angry and watching his pale face go red.

There was a scratching sound at the window and Deker leaned over to open it. A young dragon, about as big as a pony, flew in and blew smoke into Violet's face. Violet coughed and sat up, blinking at the blue dragon and shoving aside the colorful wings that flapped under her nose. "Jake!" she snickered, trying to be mad with him and failing miserably. "I'm very excited today!" She talked to her dragon as Andy chased the black tom around. "You know why? Because today is the day that you are big enough for me to ride you!" Andy stopped in his tracks and Deker stared at his little sister.

"We've already talked this over before," Violet said stubbornly before anyone could say anything. "You said I could ride Jake in the park when he's big enough, if I'm careful and if I come home after half an hour."

"Right," Deker said, cocking an eyebrow.

"So..." Violet was jumping up and down by now. "Can I ride him tonight?"

"No one asked me whether I'd like to carry you, Authoress!" Jake growled, but his sapphire blue eyes twinkled with laughter. Violet stroked his scaly snout, marveling at the way he'd grown ever since she created him last year. Andy drug a small wooden saddle he'd made in school out from under his bed and strapped it to Jake's belly. Violet hopped onto her dragon's back and grinned wildly as Jake rose to his feet, walked unsteadily to the window, and perched on the sill. Violet gave Deker a blow kiss as Jake launched himself out of the window. Andy ran to the window, yelling "You forgot your flashlight!"

Deker chuckled. "Don't worry, kiddo," he said, "Violet wrote Jake so that he'll take good care of her."

Andy sighed. "I know, it's just...AHH!" He grabbed the orange tabby kitten out of his little pile of cookies and firmly put all three characters inside a large backpack for the night, leaving the zipper gaping. He put his headphones on and slowly dozed off to the soundtrack of Pirates of the Caribbean.

The harsh white glow of Deker's laptop screen shone on his face as he typed far into the night. Downstairs he could hear the neighbors watching football and screaming whenever their favorite player got a touchdown. After half an hour, Violet flew to the window on Jake, full of laughter from the glorious first ride and watched as Jake flew off into the cloudless night. Finally, at four thirty in the morning, Deker sat back on his large pillow and reread his work, making a few changes here and there. He suddenly looked up and saw his character, a tall handsome knight named Daimon with a shock of snowy white hair and a pair of glinting green eyes, sitting at the end of his bed and looking at him.

"How goes the novel, Author?" the young man said. He was fiddling with the leather strap of his sword belt and his crimson tunic bore the magnificent golden insignia of his king, the good Luther, who represented God in Deker's novel.

"I finished chapter three, Daimon, that is all I can do this night." Deker found himself lapsing into the proud eloquent speech of his people whenever he talked to his character.

"I love how you made me stay the murderer's hand from killing Misty Snowfall, as you said you might." Daimon spoke of the beautiful heroine who was traveling to a nearby town in search for her long-lost brother.

"I think it is appalling," said a deep raspy voice. Deker stiffened and straightened his thin-rimmed glasses. "I did not bade you enter here," he said, his voice hushed for fear of waking Andy and his purring kittens. A tall cloaked figure stood in the shadowed corner, red eyes burning out from under his gray tattered hood. Deker felt a tickling heat fill the room and looked anxiously at his little sister, mumbling in her sleep and smiling every now and then. Daimon climbed down from the bunk bed and drew his sword. It slipped from his well-oiled sheath with a whisper of metal and seemed to glow in the moonlight that reached through the open window.

"Leave now, Caspar, and do not dare to come to your Author unless he bids you come!" the brave knight commanded. The cloaked figure leaned against the wall. Deker gave a piercing glare to the villain of his story, a warped soul with "anger issues", as Mrs. Grace said.

Suddenly a squishy little tomato came hopping into the room through the open door. Daimon grinned down at Jules the Notorious Talking Tomato, a character Deker had created early in his writing career and could never seem to get rid of.

"Hey," Jules squeaked, "when are ya gonna work on my books, huh?" The tomato had overheard his Author contemplating about writing a children's series with talking produce, and had plagued him ever since.

Caspar smirked and began to fade away, the heat melting from the room, his red blazing eyes fixed upon Deker until his dark essence drained from the apartment room. Daimon sheathed his sword with a sigh of relief. "I will leave you now, Author," he said, "but call me if Caspar threatens you again."

Deker climbed down from his bunk and landed on the floor with a gentle thump, the memory of Caspar's heat still seeping through his chocolate brown T-shirt. He shut the window and picked up Jules. "Thank you, Daimon, I will," he said. Andy turned over in his sleep and one of the kittens, maybe the snowy white one, gave a small helpless meow, perhaps because the mouse in her dream wouldn't stop running away. Daimon walked from the room, sword at his side. Deker stuffed Jules in the refrigerator for the night, then curled up under his black blankets and fell asleep.

Out in the night, someone walking along the bustling streets of New York City might have seen a large shadow flying across the sky, the moonlight shooting between every sinew in the rainbow wings and sparkling in Jake's beep blue eyes.

Once upon a time, there were three children called the Graces. They lived with their mother and father in a small apartment in New York City. Each night they fell asleep to the winking city lights and the sound of cars on the bustling freeways, and each morning they woke up to the birds singing in their nests on the window sills, and children shouting for hot dogs and popcorn in the lush green park nearby. The three were fairly happy living in the tiny rooms, but the noisy neighbors posed a problem. The three siblings were writers, and quite good ones but a writer has to have certain sounds to help their inspiration. Noisy neighbors is hardly fresh inspiration.

The youngest sibling in the Grace family was named Violet. She had honey colored hair and turquoise eyes, and her cheeks were always rosy. She loved puppies and liked to burst out laughter. Violet also loved to run in the park among the trees and the balloon stands. She was the pet of the family, everyone loved her and was charmed by her. She could have a temper at times, but she was very smart and always ready to forgive and forget.

The second child was a little boy, named Andy. He had curly yellow hair and his skin was pale, but he had a perpetual sunburn across his pointy nose. The other children at school and his friends in the park thought Andy was strange, not only because he loved to draw but also because his eyes were a soft shade of purple. Andy was quiet and rather shy, but his imagination and quick wit soared above the other little boys and he loved creating cute pictures of kittens.

Deker Grace was seventeen years old, and took care of his two younger siblings. He was somewhat of a recluse, tall and thin, with black eyes and a thick shock of brown hair. He could be funny and sociable, but most of the time he was intense, like a panther waiting to spring. The only people in the apartment building who weren't afraid of Deker were Violet and Andy.

It started out being a normal summer in the Big Apple; the sun's heat arose from the asphalt in waves, hot dogs sizzled deliciously underneath red and white striped umbrellas, and dozens of children swarmed in the park playing in the cool pond. School was out, and three Grace siblings, or the "Three Graces" as their mother often called them, were happy for a chance to sleep late that Friday morning.

Violet stretched under her thin sheets and blinked in the shaft of sunlight which fell over her little bed under the window. "Yay!" she suddenly screamed. "It's summer!" She hopped out of bed and pounded into the kitchen where her mother was already making pancakes with chocolate chips and a scramble of bacon, eggs, cheese, potatoes and onions the Grace children called Cowboy Scramble.

"Good morning, dearie," said their mother, turning around to grin at her little daughter. Mrs. Grace was a tall woman with happy blue eyes and short bouncy blond hair. She was wearing a baseball cap and her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the stove top. She slipped several chocolate chip pancakes onto Violet's plate and the little girl pounced in her chair and began ravenously devouring her breakfast. "This is glorious!" she said, waving around a forkful of potatoes and eggs.

Right then, Andy Grace trotted in, shouting "Brekky!" in an Australian accent. Mrs. Grace turned around. "How did you sleep, kiddo?" she asked.

"I was kept up until three in the morning by those noisy neighbors downstairs!" Andy groaned. "You'd think they'd run out of things to shriek about in the middle of the night!" He rubbed his purple eyes and plopped down in his chair to hide behind the New York Times and drink a glass of mango guava juice.

Mrs. Grace laughed. "Violet, did you hear the shrieking last night?"

"Yeah," bubbled Violet in a fast voice, "and you know what? I had a dream about a timed bomb!"

Deker tripped into the kitchen and gave Violet an odd look. Andy peeped over his newspaper to grin at his older brother as Mrs. Grace slipped her arm around her oldest son.

"GRANDMA!" screamed Violet, running around and around the slippery kitchen floor. "We're going to grandma's for the summer next week!"

"You didn't stay up too late, did you?" asked Mrs. Grace. Deker just smiled to himself and said nothing. Andy cleared his throat and Deker looked over the table top at him.

"Deker, I need your advice," Andy began in a businesslike voice. Violet bit down a giggle and ran into her tiny room, a corner partitioned off from the rest of the room by a long cream colored sheet, to get her Barbie dolls. "My kittens are giving me trouble!" Andy said, after taking a sip of his sweet cold fruit juice.

"What's the matter with them?" Deker asked. His voice was deep and a bit snarly, but he stayed up until unholy hours of the night and was always like that. Mrs. Grace began frying herself a pancake.

"They're threatening to sneak into the neighbor's rooms, the noisy ones, and break into their refrigerator! You see, I've had to set a limit on how much food I give them now, and they're mad." Violet came in, gripping a hairless Barbie doll wrapped in a rough dish towel, and laughed.

"Maybe then they'll stop being so loud!" she grinned, then settled on the ground to play with her dolls.

"Do you have any ideas about how I could tame them?" Andy asked.

Deker got a bloodthirsty gleam in his black eyes. "You could threaten to kill them off," he growled.

Violet gasped and made one of her Barbie dolls fall over. "Shadow's coming!" she squeaked.

Andy gave a high-pitched cry of shock and vigorously shook his head.

"I LOVE those kittens, I don't know what I'd do without them!"

Deker shrugged. "Lock them in the basement of the building. That's what I did to you-know-who last year."

Andy gave him a smirking look of disapproval and resumed the reading of the Times.

Mrs. Grace smiled to herself as she sat down between her two sons, one eye on Violet to make sure she didn't pull off the head of one of her dolls. She had long since gotten used to the idea of her children seeing their characters and playing with the fantastical creatures they made with the aid of their pens, or laptops, in Deker's case.

Once everyone was finished, Mrs. Grace got up and rapped her knuckles on the table. "I need to call a Council of War," she declared. Violet left her Barbie dolls and leaned on her mother's knee. Andy folded the Times paper and laid it aside, putting his elbows on the table next to his cup of mango guava juice, and gazed at his lovely mother. Deker took his thin rimmed glasses from the refrigerator and stared at his mother with his piercing black eyes.

"I'm afraid," began their mother in a hesitating voice, "that your father and I won't be going to grandma's with you this summer. You're going to have to go there by yourselves and I trust that you will behave." The three siblings looked at one another. Violet at once got a goblin-like look in her dancing blue-green eyes, Andy gulped and Deker continued to stare, his face tightening. It had been an annual tradition that the entire Grace family visit grandma, but now the Three Graces would have to brave her frail nerves and horrible cooking with no monitor.

"Deker, I expect you to keep the others in line. I am putting you in charge as soon as Dad drops you three off at grandma's next week. Violet, I don't want any screaming or nighttime adventures and Andy, please don't make any toy bugs to throw around the house." Mrs. Grace looked around at the three of sober faces and forced her lips to smile. "Oh come on, it's not that bad!" she said brightly, getting up to clear away the breakfast dishes. "I'm sure this will be the best summer you've ever had!"