Smugglers of Mallory Square
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The stockade fence, which the two young girls were hiding behind, enclosed a large lot next to a cheerless-looking cement-block building. Its once pristine white paint was all but hidden by infused soot, and all of its windows had been boarded up. In the middle of the lot, between the girls and the building, lay the broken remains of an old foundation slab. It looked like it had been abandoned for years. “It's yucky here,” said Colby. “Daddy said that they had a big fire here that killed a lot of people,” whispered Andrea, “and that no one knows how it started.” “Shhh,” whispered Colby, “I hear the boys. They're almost here.” She sealed her arms tightly across her chest and tried to hold still even though she was beginning to shiver from being wet. The two girls listened as the splashing footsteps got louder and louder before beginning to fade away. “Those boys are so dumb,” said Colby, once they'd passed by. Andrea began to shiver in the rain, also. “Hey, we need to go where it's drier. Have you ever been inside before?” she asked, nodding her head toward the building. “No, I've never been here. Why? Have you?” said Colby, tossing the bottom half of her now soggy ice cream cone onto the ground. “Nah, but as long as we're here, let's go see what's in there.” Colby hesitated a moment. “Okay, you go first.” The girls headed toward an open doorway near the rear of the building. Stopping just outside, Colby peered over Andrea's shoulder into the darkened structure, summoned her courage, and then pushed Andrea through the doorway. “Stop it,” chided Andrea. “I don't want to step on anything and hurt my feet.” Colby entered right behind her, but felt something strange, causing her to shiver as she walked through the doorway. The sensation left as quickly as it had come, and she moved on. “This place smells musty,” said Andrea. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” replied Colby. “I guess it's because it gets wet again every time it rains. I see a lot of holes up past the rafters. Anyway, at least they give us a little light to see by.” Slowly, the girls picked their way among the remains of the charred tables and wooden crates. Suddenly, something raced across the floor just behind them. Both girls jumped. "What was that?” said Andrea, spinning around and searching with her eyes through the darkness. The girls stood back-to-back, not moving, when they heard the noise again. Colby caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. “Oh my gosh, it's a rat!” shrieked Colby. Goose bumps covered both of her arms, instantly. She reached for a piece of broken cement on the floor but yanked her hand back quickly when another rat squeaked his presence nearby. "Ooowee!” she exclaimed. “Let's get out of here.” “Hey, I know what we should do,” said Andrea. “Let's go get Michael to come here and get rid of them with his BB gun. Then we can search around all we want.” “I wouldn't do that, chica” proffered a raspy, deep-pitched voice coming from the shadows. “I don't think you outta' come back here again, unless you want me to kick you in that pretty face of yours and then really mess you up.” “Oh my gosh!” screamed Colby. Her face contorted to show both her fear and her disbelief. Without another word both girls darted for the doorway. Colby was just passing through it when a bright light flashed in her eyes. Even though she was awake and running, a vision of sorts materialized in front of her. She saw grown people all around her, watching her, but not moving. One woman stood out from among the rest. The vision only lasted a second or two and then it was gone. Bewildered, she ran outside into the rain. Colby fled across the empty lot right behind Andrea. On the way in they had avoided the puddles, but now they made a beeline for the hole in the fence, irrespective of what they had to run through, or over, to get there. Emerging through the fence and onto the sidewalk, they kept right on running. ~~~ Breathing heavily, Colby stopped next to Andrea as they reached the middle of the block. Her heart was pounding loudly, and she felt certain that Andrea could hear it. Turning, she looked back toward the factory, and then let out long slow breath. No one was coming. "We're safe now, I think,” said Colby, bending over and placing her hands on her knees. As quickly as the rain had started, it stopped. The clouds, once dark gray, had brightened, and in several places, yellow rays of sunlight tried to poke their way through. “Who was that man?” asked Colby, breathing deeply. “I don't have the faintest idea. I didn't see his face, did you?” said Andrea. “No, I just heard him and then screamed and ran,” said Colby. “I thought the building was empty. The factory's been shut down since before we were born,” said Andrea. Gradually, the sun began to flood the area with warm light. As it poured through ever-widening gaps in the clouds, it dropped upon an old, white, two-story house next to where the girls had stopped. The bottom floor of the house had been converted into a souvenir shop. A small painted sign on one of the porch columns simply read: Cigars, Sponges, Souvenirs. Before the girls could continue their conversation, its front door opened.
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About the Book
In In the 1950's, Key West had yet to experience the melee of being sought out as a tourist-haven. Times were simpler; doors still remained unlocked on people homes, and young people could travel the island on foot or bike without their parent's being too concerned. However, with the coming of the first storm of summer, three preteen's lives would be changed forever. On the first day of Colby's, Michael's, and Andrea's summer vacations, their lives would become intertwined with a mysterious entity from the past, and also with a more-than-scary individual lurking in the shadows. Having to rely upon their common sense, knowledge gleaned from Nancy Drew books, and advice from their parents, the trio soon find themselves 'playing-out' a real-life mystery. Their childlike naivete, however, just may cost them their lives. Smugglers of Mallory Square was written specifically for 10-11 year olds. No graphic language or actions are included in the story. The story was written to reflect the innocence an era gone by.
About the Author
Jere Steele, Professor Emeritus at the University of Florida's Developmental Research School, currently lives in Gainesville, Florida. After over thirty years of teaching, he continues to stay actively involved in learning-experiences within the community; both as a participant and also as the owner/director of the Adventure Club of Gainesville. In the classroom, Steele cherished the creative aspects of each individual's intellectual schema and designed his curriculum so students could activate their imaginations while they immersed themselves in math, science, and history. As a result, his classrooms often became theaters wherein his students would become part of the content material; traveling into the past or 'transporting' into the future Now, as a first time author of juvenile literature, he invites his readers to fire-up their imaginations and experience the `innocent era' of the 1950's; living in Key West and coming face to face with the smugglers of Mallory Square.