Title: Russell’s Revenge
Author: Dennis Fishel
Genre: YA Humor, Adventure
Fate has been messing
up Dennis’s life for as long as he can remember. It was Fate that decided
Russell Folmer—the biggest, ugliest, and meanest kid on earth—would live only
two houses south of Dennis’s. Fate was also responsible for making Russell the
same age and placing him in the same school. So who else but malicious Fate
would arrange for Russell to be in the wrong place at exactly the wrong time
when the bombs crafted from the only product a dog manufactures fell from
Dennis’s experimental kite? Now, with dog dumplings decorating Russell’s
extremely large and angry face, it looks as though Dennis’s days of successfully
dodging the well-known bully are over. As the sound of Russell’s pounding feet
gets ever closer, two questions flare up in Dennis’s panicked mind like neon in
the blackness of a cave: What has he done to make Fate hate him so much, and
how is he going to get out of this fix?
Excerpt
From chapter “True Northwesterners”
Now I knew how a mouse felt as it cowered in that space behind the wall and watched a cat’s paw reach through the hole to feel around for it. At least the mouse didn’t have to deal with a traitor of a mother, I thought. Mine would have told the cat to, “Reach to the left. He always scrunches into the corner.”
I was scrunched behind the lilac bush outside my bedroom window at the moment while Mom searched the inside of the house looking for me–and while Russell followed her into my room.
“Well, isn’t that strange?” I heard her say. “I could have sworn Den was in here. He and Jay must have gone off somewhere when I was in the kitchen. Did you try Jay’s house, Russell?”
Russell mumbled something I couldn’t hear, his voice a low and threatening rumble like thunder in the distance. And then I realized it actually was thunder in the distance, followed by the slamming of the front door as Russell made as much noise leaving as he had when he first arrived.
Thank heavens for that glass-rattling knock of his, I thought. It had given me time to bail out my window and dive into the bush. I peered out now and spotted Alice McClewey in her front yard across the street. The goggles she called glasses flashed reflected light, her gaze following Russell as he made his way toward his house. I waited until she was done watching him, knowing she’d track him until he was out of sight because she was too nosy not to. I hated having to go over to talk to her again, but I’d heard that Clinton Farrow was back from vacation and that he and Russell had met on the field of battle. A nose-poky gossip like Alice would be able to clear that up.
“Yes, Dennis, Clinton is back,” she said. “But why are you hiding like that? Russell is gone.”
“He isn’t that far gone,” I said from my cover. I’d taken the long route to get across the street–a crouching run along fences, a quick dodge across Fourth Avenue, and a dive around the corner of Alice’s fence, out of sight from Russell’s house.
“So Alice,” I said, “what’s the latest? I heard Clinton and Russell got into it as soon as Clinton got back. And stop looking toward me like you’re talking to someone. Russell might see.”
“I heard the same thing,” she answered as she turned her head to focus on a bird sitting on a telephone wire. “I haven’t verified it yet, of course, but it’s probably accurate. Why don’t you just get it firsthand from Clinton? I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you the whole story, and no one but Russell would know as much as he does.”
That was good advice. Alice’s ways had been irritating me more and more lately, but I had to admit her idea showed reason and maturity. Besides, Clinton was the only expert on how to handle Russell known to exist.
“Reason and maturity, my skinny behind!” Jay scoffed when I ran up to his house to tell him what I’d learned. “Your heart’s thumpin’ like a bass drum for that girl.”
“Oh, you’re so full of…” I started to say but stopped. Clinton’s phone was ringing and he might answer any second. I didn’t have time to argue.
“Yeah, Folmer and I got into it,” Clinton said after figuring out who I was, and I heard a chorus of giggles in the background. “I used karate on the big goon. He went down like a shot duck. So, what can I do for you, Dennis?”
“For starters, how about teaching Jay and me karate?”
More tittering on the other end followed my request and I got the feeling a member of Clinton’s harem had her ear next to his as she listened to me. Then came Clinton’s low chuckle.
“I don’t have time for that,” he said. “Look, Dennis, you guys are just going to have to face up to Russell on your own.”
The giggles cranked up a notch–and then the phone went dead.
“Well, what did he say, man?” Jay asked.
“We’re on our own.”
Jay sank back in his chair, his eyes staring at the ceiling like a jailbird who’d just learned that his scheduled execution had been moved up to just before lunch.
Excerpt
From chapter “True Northwesterners”
Now I knew how a mouse felt as it cowered in that space behind the wall and watched a cat’s paw reach through the hole to feel around for it. At least the mouse didn’t have to deal with a traitor of a mother, I thought. Mine would have told the cat to, “Reach to the left. He always scrunches into the corner.”
I was scrunched behind the lilac bush outside my bedroom window at the moment while Mom searched the inside of the house looking for me–and while Russell followed her into my room.
“Well, isn’t that strange?” I heard her say. “I could have sworn Den was in here. He and Jay must have gone off somewhere when I was in the kitchen. Did you try Jay’s house, Russell?”
Russell mumbled something I couldn’t hear, his voice a low and threatening rumble like thunder in the distance. And then I realized it actually was thunder in the distance, followed by the slamming of the front door as Russell made as much noise leaving as he had when he first arrived.
Thank heavens for that glass-rattling knock of his, I thought. It had given me time to bail out my window and dive into the bush. I peered out now and spotted Alice McClewey in her front yard across the street. The goggles she called glasses flashed reflected light, her gaze following Russell as he made his way toward his house. I waited until she was done watching him, knowing she’d track him until he was out of sight because she was too nosy not to. I hated having to go over to talk to her again, but I’d heard that Clinton Farrow was back from vacation and that he and Russell had met on the field of battle. A nose-poky gossip like Alice would be able to clear that up.
“Yes, Dennis, Clinton is back,” she said. “But why are you hiding like that? Russell is gone.”
“He isn’t that far gone,” I said from my cover. I’d taken the long route to get across the street–a crouching run along fences, a quick dodge across Fourth Avenue, and a dive around the corner of Alice’s fence, out of sight from Russell’s house.
“So Alice,” I said, “what’s the latest? I heard Clinton and Russell got into it as soon as Clinton got back. And stop looking toward me like you’re talking to someone. Russell might see.”
“I heard the same thing,” she answered as she turned her head to focus on a bird sitting on a telephone wire. “I haven’t verified it yet, of course, but it’s probably accurate. Why don’t you just get it firsthand from Clinton? I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you the whole story, and no one but Russell would know as much as he does.”
That was good advice. Alice’s ways had been irritating me more and more lately, but I had to admit her idea showed reason and maturity. Besides, Clinton was the only expert on how to handle Russell known to exist.
“Reason and maturity, my skinny behind!” Jay scoffed when I ran up to his house to tell him what I’d learned. “Your heart’s thumpin’ like a bass drum for that girl.”
“Oh, you’re so full of…” I started to say but stopped. Clinton’s phone was ringing and he might answer any second. I didn’t have time to argue.
“Yeah, Folmer and I got into it,” Clinton said after figuring out who I was, and I heard a chorus of giggles in the background. “I used karate on the big goon. He went down like a shot duck. So, what can I do for you, Dennis?”
“For starters, how about teaching Jay and me karate?”
More tittering on the other end followed my request and I got the feeling a member of Clinton’s harem had her ear next to his as she listened to me. Then came Clinton’s low chuckle.
“I don’t have time for that,” he said. “Look, Dennis, you guys are just going to have to face up to Russell on your own.”
The giggles cranked up a notch–and then the phone went dead.
“Well, what did he say, man?” Jay asked.
“We’re on our own.”
Jay sank back in his chair, his eyes staring at the ceiling like a jailbird who’d just learned that his scheduled execution had been moved up to just before lunch.
Author Bio
Owned and managed by
dogs for most of his life, Dennis shares a home on Washington’s Olympic
Peninsula with his four-legged boss, Sally. Together they pursue their
interests in wooden boats, fly fishing, chasing down obscure historic sites,
and hiking to remote places just for the fun of it.
Links
Author Website: http://www.dennisfishel.com/
Amazon (Paperback): http://www.amazon.com/Russells-Revenge-Dennis-Fishel/dp/1513703900
Amazon (eBook): http://www.amazon.com/Russells-Revenge-Dennis-Fishel-ebook/dp/B017Y5ZUJE/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=
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