[ Write On Magazine | The Book Mart | Schott At Sunrise | Celebrity Author Spotlight |
| E-Mail Exchange | Off the Beaten Path | Meet the Editors | News & Events | Back Issues |
| Favorite Places, Hot Links| Submission Guidelines | FAQ | Home ]

A Mouse Tale

Will Winnie find out if she's a murderer or if she's merely an accomplice? Will she remember how she got to Orlando and find her best friend Lucy, aka Mary Anne McKnight? It's all up to you! A Mouse Tale is a continuous story written by our reader-writers. You are limited only by your imagination and ideas. If you would like to contribute, send a follow-up chapter to the one appearing below. Each month a new chapter appears and a winner is announced. The story continues for twelve months before a new one begins. Creativity and good solid writing are a must. The deadline for submitting Chapter Two of the NEW A Mouse Tale series is March 25. Chapter One of the new series will appear in Write On Magazine beginning February 1, 2000. Your chapter should be no more than 1000 words and sent to jeanfred@citrus.infi.net. If you cannot send your entry via the internet, please send it to Write On Magazine, c/o A Mouse Tale, P.O. Box 3039, Spring Hill, FL 34611-0960. ASCII text on 3 1/2 inch floppy disk is preferred with a clean, hard copy. Make sure everything is labeled with your name, address, telephone and e-mail address. We're lining up some great prizes, so get your chapter in as soon as possible. All entries become the property of Write On Magazine and the decisions of the editors are final.

Chapter One	Chapter Two
Chapter Three	Chapter Four

A Mouse Tale: Chapter One

Winnie stood up and walked halfway to the bathroom before she noticed the room was covered in blood. She looked down and did not recognize the bloody clothes she was wearing. Fear enveloped her and she raced to the mirror. Her hair! What happened to the long blonde locks that were her signature? Short spiked brown points stood on her head, reminding her of the Calvin and Hobbs cartoon. She wasn't going to panic. There must be a perfectly good explanation for this. For a fleeting moment she considered this might be a bad nightmare she'd wake up from shortly, but she knew that wasn't true. She searched her mind for an explanation. What had she done yesterday? Where had she gone and whom had she seen? The fear grew deeper when she realized she could not answer any of her own questions. The last thing she remembered was seeing Lucy, her best friend, on Tuesday. Lucy had asked her to go shopping and so they went to the local mall. Compared to big cities, the shopping area could hardly be called a mall. But for the small town it was located in, it was a godsend. Lucy didn't really want to shop, she wanted to talk and this afforded the opportunity to do so without interruptions from Lucy's husband and kids. Winnie and Lucy had been friends longer than Winnie could remember. When Winnie's family moved to this small town, they settled in a rented house next door to Lucy's family. Lucy brought her dog, Tippy, over to meet Winnie. Little did she know that Winnie's dog, Tom, was extremely territorial and despised any other dog. The dogs hated each other but the girls were inseparable. They spent hours pretending they were movie stars. Lucy's stage name was Mary Anne McKnight and Winnie was Margie Wagner. They stayed friends throughout their school years and even remained the best of friends after Lucy married. Winnie liked Lucy's husband, Hank, and considered them a good match. Winnie remembered sitting in the food court with Lucy and remembered the sinking feeling when Lucy broke the news to her, but she couldn't remember what the news had been. She remembered being sad and frightened but no amount of strength or energy could force her to bring up the conversation. Winnie looked around the room for the source of blood. There was no other person, dead or alive in the room, but blood was everywhere. The walls, curtains and lamp shades were smeared with blood. It occurred to her that it might possibly be coming from her. She looked at her body but couldn't tell whether or not she was injured because she too, was covered with blood. She quickly undressed and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt good and temporarily cleared her panicked thoughts. She began checking every inch of her body and could not find a single scratch. She stepped out of the shower and dried off, then looked around the room for another set of clothes. The only clothes in the room were the bloodied ones she'd just removed. She took them to the bathtub and washed them out the best she could. She laid them over the air conditioner and turned it on high. Next she wrapped a sheet around herself and began cleaning the blood. The quiet was deafening so she turned on the television. "Welcome to this Friday morning," Bryant Gumbel greeted her. Panic again knocked her off her feet. Friday! The last day she remembered was Tuesday. What happened to Wednesday and Thursday? And where, exactly, was she? She carefully peered out the window, not knowing if someone was outside watching the room. A maid's cart partially blocked the view but she was able to determine the surroundings were not familiar to her. She began digging through the nightstand drawers for a phone book. She found one marked Orlando Area. Panic found deeper caverns within her. She lived in a tiny town in Colorado, no where near the Sunshine State. Fortunately she also found a purse. It was not the purse she was carrying prior to this entire fiasco, but she assumed it was hers. She opened the purse and removed a wallet. Winnie froze at the name on the Florida drivers license--Marjorie Wagner. Next to her childhood play name was her picture. This entire episode was becoming scary and Winnie wanted some answers. She started to pick up the phone and noticed that the message light was blinking. Becoming more frightened at the thought someone might actually know she was here, she began to cry. The crying helped her sort through her thoughts and let off pressure building up. It didn't take long to regain her composure and work out a plan. Winnie knew she'd have to be strong and confident to carry out her plan. She was also not one to sit back and watch the world go by, wishing she'd done more. She picked up the phone and dialed the operator. Another setback. The message said to call Mary Anne KcKnight. The caller left no number, saying Margie would know where she was.

A Mouse Tale: Chapter Two

by Ann Ehrmann

of Berkeley, California

Winnie sat on the bed, phone gripped in her hand. In the mirror over the desk she saw her glassy eyes, her unfamiliar-looking short brown hair, and the enormous sheet draped around her. She started to shake. "Okay., girl, you're gonna be all right," she whispered to herself as she clicked down the phone button. She took a deep breath, then punched in Lucy's number in Colorado. The seconds ticked by slowly as she waited for someone to pick up. One ring, two, three, four, and then the familiar phone message came on. Tears welled up in Winnie's eyes as she heard her old friend's recorded voice. She glanced quickly around the room and spoke in a low voice, "It's me. I'm in a motel near Orlando and may be in danger. If you don't hear from me in the next twenty-four hours, tell the police... Lucy, I'm really scared." She hung up and let the tears flow. Ten minutes later she went over to the clothing on the air conditioner. She pulled on her still damp shorts and t-shirt and found a pair of sandals that looked as if they were her size, under the bed; fortunately they didn't need to be cleaned of blood. Then she grabbed the wallet and took another look inside. As well as Marjorie Wagner's driving license, there were a Visa card (again, in Marjorie's name) and thirty-two dollars and some change. She threw the wallet into the purse she'd spotted earlier. Then she took out the phone book from the bedside table and ran her finger down the page to "Avis." She punched in the number and a friendly-sounding woman answered. Winnie felt her body relax as the woman made a car reservation for her in the name of Marjorie Wagner. After she hung up, she looked up airlines and called Delta. Finally an agent came on. Winnie made a reservation for seven p.m. that evening, again for Marjorie Wagner. The clock on the bedside table said it was six after seven. For the first time since Winnie had awakened in this strange room and city, she started letting herself believe she might actually be sleeping in her own bed that night. She lay back on the pillows a few minutes, eyes closed, thinking about her comfortable flat in Colorado. Then she picked up the purse and walked toward the door. Outside, it was sunny and hot; she could feel her clothes starting to dry already in the warm wind. The maid's cart was down a few doors. Winnie walked across the small parking lot to the smoky empty motel office and cast her eyes over the brochures for visitors to Orlando. There was much about Disneyworld, but no directions to Avis or the airport. She saw a sign, "Ring for manager," and pushed the button. After a small delay, a man in his mid-sixties made his way to the desk from a door behind it. He had a cigarette in his mouth and wore an old cardigan. He stared at Winnie through heavy black glasses. "What can I do you for?" "Do you have any idea how far I am from the Avis place?" she asked. He stared at her some more. "Well, you're not very near it. You better call a cab." He pushed the desk phone over to her and scribbled a number on a pad of paper. Twenty minutes later the cab was outside the office where she was waiting in the fresh air. The cabby, a chubby black man about twenty-five, with long eyelashes and luminous eyes, opened the door for her. His cheerful grin made her want to burst into tears again. "Where to?" She told him and they took off. She sank into the back seat, feeling safe for the first time since she'd awakened. Soon she'd be at the rental place, then the airport, and finally, back in Colorado where she belonged. Then she could find Lucy -- she hoped -- and discover what was going on. The cabby spoke. "Been to Disneyworld yet?" Winnie said no. She looked out the window as they drove, noticed the exotic palm trees. The cabby continued, "You'll love it. I go there as much as I have time for - my kids can't get enough of it." She looked behind them and saw a red car extremely close to the cab. They continued a bit further and the car remained in the rearview mirror. Suddenly her stomach knotted up. Winnie clutched the back of the front seat and leaned forward. She wasn't sure any words would come out when she opened her mouth. "I think a car is following us," she croaked. The cabby turned to look out the rearview mirror, then put his foot on the gas. He swerved to the right-hand lane. Winnie kept her eyes glued to the red car. It was still behind them, moving faster every time they speeded up.

Congratulations to Ann Ehrmann of Berkeley, California for submitting the winning Chapter Two! About the writer. . . Ann Ehrmann grew up in Brockton, Massachusetts but spent summers on a Maine island. She majored in psychology at Brandeis University, graduating in 1970. That summer she traveled cross-country with her boyfriend in a VW bug to Berkeley, California where she now lives with her husband David in a collective. She has held a wide variety of jobs over the years: from postal clerk to editing assistant to special education teacher (received M.A. in special ed in 1984). One day in 1986 on her commute to work, her car spun around on the freeway and ended up facing the oncoming traffic; she was able to get to the breakdown lane and turn around. Coincidentally, David gave her a portable Morrow computer as a surprise later that same day, and she decided she'd rather write (something she'd always loved doing) than teach and risk her life commuting. Since 1988 she has written essays, short stories, a play, and poetry. She wrote a mystery story using Jack Bickham's "Writer's Digest Short Story Blueprint" and attributes the good qualities of her winning chapter to techniques she learned in that course. For the past four years or so she's spent most of her writing energy on poetry. She led a writers' support group for a number of years and currently attends the AOL poetry workshop. She has had work published in In the Company of Poets, misnomer, One Earth, and Verses. She has also had poetry published in two anthologies: World of Poetry's, in summer of 1991 and National Library of Poetry's, in winter of 1994. She wrote the second chapter of A Mouse Tale just for fun!

A Mouse Tale: Chapter Three

by Jeff Donaldson-Forbes

of New York

The cab lurched right and Winnie lurched with it--her brain felt as if it had shoved up against the front of her skull, pulsing and throbbing in time with her frantic heartbeat. She steeled herself to look back at the red car--it was still behind them, the sun glinting off the windshield and obscuring the driver from view. Glancing forward again, she could see a rickety produce truck barreling ahead of them, then a green sign indicating the next turnoff to the right. "Can you get in front of that truck and exit?" Winnie asked. The cabbie grinned, "Sure!" And they lurched left, picking up speed to pass the truck. In that rush of movement and speed, Winnie was hurled back against the seat and a fragment of memory struck her brain: blood, flesh, blade and a snarling, howling cry. Then the sound of metal on metal! But this was memory no longer-- As she felt the taxi's rear fender skim off the front of the bumperless produce truck, Winnie winced at the shriek of noise. Then they were across to the right and down the exit ramp as she looked out the left window at the red car--unable to make the exit--speeding away down the freeway. "Nice friends you've made in Florida, eh?" the cabbie smirked. Winnie didn't reply. "Breathe." she told herself. But what now? "I can still get you to Avis from here. I know a short cut..." the cabbie offered, "...we're still going to Avis aren't we?" "Make up your mind," she thought, "I haven't got time!" "No." Winnie said. "Pull over there at the Krispy Kreme." At the Krispy Kreme, she instructed the cabbie to wait for her. She walked inside and, as she had expected, there was a wall-mounted pay phone with a telephone book attached. Hands trembling, she flipped the book open. Paging quickly through to the "M"s, now the "Mc"s....yes. There it was... MCKNIGHT, MaryAnne 1510 John Young Parkway and a local number. She fumbled in the unfamiliar purse, searching for change. Then coins in the slot, and her fingers dialing, palms sweating, phone ringing, ringing, ringing... "Hello?" the voice at the other end of the line, though tense and excited, was unmistakable, "Hello!?" Unmistakably Lucy. Winnie froze. "HELLO?" Lucy's voice was now truly frantic, "If you've got my Tippy, please, please just let her go! What is it you want from me!?" Winnie drew away from the phone, but she heard the click as Lucy hung up in distress. "Breathe," Winnie reminded herself. She ripped the McKnight page from the phone book and folded it into her purse. Walked back to the cab and asked the driver, "where are we?" The cabbie eyed her suspiciously. "Well...you had me pull off the Florida Turnpike before coming here. Just where is it you want to go now?" "How far is John Young Parkway from here?--Fifteen-ten John Young Parkway?" "Several miles," he replied, "but not too bad...I will take you for twenty dollars." Winnie hesitated--only thirty-two dollars in cash in that purse. But what choice did she have now? With only fragments of memory to go on, she might as well lose her sanity now. If she hadn't lost it already. The only person who might help her was within reach. She opened the purse for the twenty. "Deal...but wait--I'm gonna grab a donut." Donut and coffee in hand, she sat back in the seat and waited to meet MaryAnn McKnight in person.

A Mouse Tale: Chapter Four

by Valerie Adase of Berkeley, California

Winnie finished her coffee and donut and leaned back against the seat of the cab and closed her eyes. Maybe she hadn't slept much last night because she started to drift off almost immediately. A frightful, gruesome scene flashed before her eyes, jolting her into full consciousness: a lake, the half moon shining on the water, as well as a horrible bloody body laying on the shore. She felt revulsion and worse, responsible. Was she? Was this how she got all that blood on her? And who was the body? Luckily, the cabbie started jabbering again and she was able to at least pretend normalcy. However, when she heard him announce that they were almost there, she broke into a sweat. The idea of confronting Lucy for some answers to this bizarre mystery scared her. Maybe she was afraid to hear the answers, for surely she was implicated in some way. "All right, Miss, here we are." "Thanks for everything," said Winnie, reluctant to leave the safe and familiar confines of the cab for the short walk up to Lucy aka MaryAnne's door. On an impulse she gave the cabbie not only the twenty he requested but the ten and change she had left over in her purse. "Thank you. Say, I know its none of my business, but I couldn't help noticing that we were being chased by that red car. If you need a cab again, here's how to get a hold of me. Good luck." The cabbie then handed Winnie his card which she tucked away inside her purse. The cab took off and Winnie, left alone, trudged up the walkway to the small but neat bungalow that is typical of Florida tract homes. Ringing the doorbell, she thought she heard a slight sound and had the uncomfortable feeling of being scrutinized through the peephole. After a second or two, the door flew open and there was her dear friend, Lucy, flinging herself into Winnie's arms and together the two burst into tears. "Oh, Winnie, I was so worried about you." Winnie could feel her friend trembling but after a minute, Lucy seemed to come to herself, quickly looked up and down the road and dragged Winnie inside, bolting the door behind them. At a glance, Winnie took in the living and dining rooms. The blinds were shut tight and the drapes drawn. Only a dim light was on in the hallway, but the air was refreshingly cool after the heat outside. Lucy babbled question after question and Winnie, feeling she could finally relax a little, suddenly felt very tired, so she suggested they sit down and have a much needed talk. Over iced tea, Lucy, amazed that Winnie couldn't remember the last few days, tried to fill in the gaps. It seemed that Lucy and her husband, Hank, were in very deep trouble with some nasty influential people. They thought they might have to make a run for it so a couple of months ago Hank rented this house under Lucy's stage name, MaryAnne McKnight. As an added precaution, they got Lucy extra credit cards in yet another name, Marjorie Wagner. Lucy had no intention of dragging Winnie into this mess when she unburdened herself to Winnie at the mall in Colorado, but on the way home it became evident that they were being followed. When the car tried to run them off the road they thought it prudent for Winnie also to leave with them. Winnie, being in a dead end job as a clerk at the local pharmacy, was delighted to tell her boss goodbye. He fussed and fumed and railed about her not giving proper notice, but after enduring his lame attempts to grope her behind the medicine shelves for the last three years she didn't have any regrets about leaving him flat. Besides, at that point she still saw the whole thing as an adventure even though Lucy tried to convince her of the serious trouble they were all in. Even the mysterious car trying to force them off the road struck her as James Bondish. Maybe if the logging truck coming in the opposite direction and nearly colliding with the car hadn't run him off the road instead, she would have felt a bit different. Winnie threw a few things into a suitcase and the three of them drove off to Denver Airport which is so vast that once inside they hoped to evade anyone who might be tailing them or on the lookout at the airport terminals. Lucy's two kids had already been shipped off to Grandma's house in Arizona last Saturday when Hank had realized his attempts to extricate himself from these people had failed and they no longer were looking for him to put things right but were now only out for revenge. Tippy, Lucy's old dog, was left with Jerry, Hank's business partner. Jerry was not given their assumed names or the address of their hideout in Florida, but he did have their phone number. He had just called this morning to tell Lucy that Tippy was missing and Lucy assumed the worst. "But Lucy, why would they take Tippy?" "Maybe she just ran away to find you." "She's so old, Tippy can barely walk never mind run anywhere. I'm sure they took her to get at us." "Well, don't get too upset over that yet. She may turn up at any moment. What I'd like to know is where Hank is and also why I was covered in blood in a strange hotel room?" At this Lucy went quiet and looked at Winnie as if weighing how much she should tell her good and loyal friend.

Congratulations Valerie Adase of Berkeley, California
for submitting the winning Chapter Four!

This is the final chapter of this series
A new storyline will premiere February 1

Thank you, readers, for all the terrific entries for the second, third and fourth chapters of A Mouse Tale! We invite you to submit Chapter Two of our NEW series premiering February 1, 2000! Please see guidelines at the top of this page. Tell all your friends about us. Be sure to check out our E-Mail Exchange department designed to help writers exchange information with others. We also advertise self-published books in our Book Mart section, complete with scanned art, description of the book, photo and bio of the author, optional first chapter and information on how to order. For more information, please e-mail editor@writeonmag.com or send requests to Write On Magazine, P. O. Box 3039, Spring Hill, FL 34611-0960.

You are here:
www.writeonmag.com

[ Write On Magazine | The Book Mart | Schott At Sunrise | Celebrity Author Spotlight |
| E-Mail Exchange | Off the Beaten Path | Meet the Editors | News & Events |
| Back Issues | Favorite Places, Hot Links| Submission Guidelines | FAQ ]