Starting tomorrow, I'll be uploading anywhere from 1-3 chapters daily. Look forward to it!

George whirled around and found himself looking at one of the strangest creatures he had ever seen. It was about two feet tall with dark brown, leathery skin. It had only three toes on each foot, but the feet were very large, while the legs were short, fat and stubby. It wore a brown robe wrapped around its middle, tied with a curious red belt, studded with shiny jewels. The creature stared at George with protruding, lamp-like eyes, then raised one of its stubby arms, wagging its two fingers at him.

Before George could utter a cry or any sound at all, the creature spoke in the same raspy voice as before.

"The world faces everlasting darkness and fire in just a few days, George Brown. However, your sacrifice may be able to stop it. You must seek out the protector to better see what you must do.”

Stillness hung in the air while George stared, speechless at the creature. Then, with an unexpected ‘pop!’ the creature disappeared, without even leaving a wrinkle on George’s bedspread to show its passing.

George gaped at where the creature had been sitting only a split second before. Then he cautiously approached the bed and ran his hand over the bedspread. It wasn’t even warm. He looked all around the room. The only thing that looked different was the strange rock he had put on his dresser, which seemed to be glowing.

George walked over and touched it. It was hot—yet only a minute ago it had been as cold as ice! George picked it up. With amazing speed it seemed to cool to his touch, and was icy again within a few seconds. Quietly George put it in his pocket then looked around the room once more. Things were getting weird. George had experienced many strange things, but had never had a visit by a bizarre creature like that before.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, his mind racing. What did it all mean? Who was that creature, and who was the protector? What had it meant about the world facing fire and ice? What type of sacrifice was it talking about? Nothing made any sense.

He shook his head as if to clear it from a fog, then stood up and headed for the door. With things going the way they were, it was definitely time for a visit to his secret grove.

A short distance from George’s house was a city park. It had the usual worn playground with a swing set for little kids at one end, and a scattering of park benches and trees throughout. Almost in the center of the park was a small patch of tangled shrubs, like a little island. If a person knew just which bush to duck under, and just which way to wriggle through the undergrowth, he could worm his way into the center of the little bushy grove where there was a tiny clear space, in the middle of which was a large, knotted tree stump. If a person sat on the stump he could see the whole park and the streets beyond without being seen. This was George’s secret grove, where he often went to ponder and think while watching what was going on in the park. And this is where he now went.

After wriggling through the bushes, George plopped himself down on the tree stump and rested his head in his hands. It was time to try and figure out what was going on. Nothing that had been happening made any sense. What was the strange, clear rock he had found, and why had it seemed to come to him? It certainly seemed to have some unusual powers. Was it possible to learn more of what they were and how to control them?

And who was the strange creature that had appeared in George’s room, with its gloomy warning? For that matter, who was the protector that it had told him to find, and how was George to find him? Was there any connection between the stone and the creature’s visit, or this unknown protector?

George didn’t have any answers. Only questions. Usually he could clear his mind and reach important decisions when he was in his secret grove. But today he seemed to be up against a brick wall.

He pulled the little pouch from his pocket and shook the rock out onto his palm. It was icy cold, and glittered in the sunlight that filtered through the trees. He held it up and looked through it at the surrounding bushes. It was like looking through a piece of glass, without any distortions at all.

After a moment George put the rock back in the pouch. Absently he twirled the pouch around his finger by its drawstring. Looking through the leafy branches all around him, he could see only two people in the park. There was an old woman walking her dog on the south side near the picnic tables, and a middle aged man sleeping on a bench near the street. It looked like it was going to be a quiet day.

Suddenly there was a flutter of wings and George looked down to see a small yellow bird staring up at him. It reminded him of the strange bird that had followed him for two weeks the previous year.

“Hello,” said George with a smile. The bird cocked his head to look at him with just one eye.

“I’m George Brown,” said George. “What’s your name?” The bird shifted its head to the other side and looked at him curiously. “You look like you understand what I’m saying,” said George with a smile.

Suddenly the bird flew up and grabbed the pouch out of George’s hand and flew off with it.

“Hey!” cried George as he lunged after the bird. Tripping over a branch, George lost his balance and crashed through a bush all the way out of his hiding place and onto the park's lawn. He looked up to see the bird hopping about with the pouch hanging from its beak, just a few feet in front of him.

“Give that back!” yelled George as he lurched to his feet and charged after the bird. Quick as a wink it darted out of the way, fluttering just out of his hands. George chased it across the park, nearly running into the lady walking her dog. Then he watched in dismay as the bird flew into the open window of an old Volkswagen ‘Beetle’ parked next to where the man was asleep on the park bench.

“Blasted bird!” muttered George as he cautiously approached the car window. He looked carefully around for anyone who might be the car’s owner. The man on the park bench was still asleep and no one else was in sight.

George carefully peered through the window on the passenger side but couldn’t see the bird anywhere. He looked up and down the street again to make sure no one was watching, then poked his head in the window. The bird was still nowhere to be seen.

“Darn thing must be under the seat,” mumbled George, leaning in the open window to see if he could spot the bird anywhere. The area under the seat was still too far below him for George to see anything. He leaned farther into the window, stretching as far as he could. But it still wasn’t far enough. He tried to lean in just a bit farther—and suddenly found himself falling.

What happened next was so strange that George could never really describe it afterward, no matter how hard he tried. When he had lost his balance and started to fall, his head had only been a short distance from the bottom of the passenger seat. But to his amazement, as he fell George watched as the floor of the car seemed to shrink away from him and get farther away the longer he fell toward it. Twisting around, George looked up to see the open window far above him, which seemed as massive and distant as a giant movie screen.

George landed with a thump, and for a second the wind was knocked out of him. Then he quickly stood up—and was amazed to see the passenger seat of the car towering like a distant cliff, far above his head.

George stared down at his hands and legs and feet. They looked the same as always. Yet, amazing and impossible as it was, he was now apparently a miniature version of his former self! In some impossible way he had shrunk while falling through the window and was only about two inches tall.

George stared dumbfounded at his new surroundings. Straight ahead of him was the area under the passenger seat that he had been straining to see before he fell. He could see scraps of paper bigger than bed sheets and bits of popcorn that looked larger than tree stumps. The bird was nowhere to be seen, and considering how small he now was, George was kind of glad.

To George’s right was the gearshift lever, towering taller than a tree. To the left George could see far above him the rotating handle used to roll down the car window. The handle looked as big as a horse.

Turning around, George saw more popcorn kernels scattered across the car floor, like miniature boulders. And then, to his surprise, as he peered into the semi-darkness towards the front of the car, he saw a door exactly his size!

“Wow!” said George softly. “This is incredible!” He knew he should probably feel frightened at suddenly being only 2 inches tall, but he was strangely calm. He couldn’t explain why. It was the same relaxed, curious feeling as the night he had seen the falling star, and had known that somehow it was meant just for him.

He began walking cautiously toward the door. It was so quiet that it seemed as if the world had stopped. He tiptoed forward as carefully as he could; trying to avoid any noise in case someone was on the other side of it.

But when he was nearly there, the silence was shattered by the ringing of his cell phone.