The Purple Raccoon by Sara Furlong

Author:Sara Furlong
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
Published: 2022-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

One Last Hope!

Dinner was really good that night. My grandparents made spaghetti and meatballs, my favorite. It was so good it almost made me forget about wanting to hear the rest of the story. We had finished eating and were just starting to clean the kitchen when the phone rang. My grandmother answered it.

“Hello. Oh, hi sweetheart. How are you?” My grandmother was obviously talking to my mom on the phone.

“Oh yes, they’re doing fine. Your father’s been telling them his famous Purple Raccoon story,” my grandmother told my mother.

I ran over beside my grandmother, anxious to talk to my mother on the phone.

“Well, it’s been great hearing from you, sweetheart. Cindy is here and she wants to say Hello. Just a second.” My grandmother handed me the phone.

“Hi, Mom!” I said, I was so excited to talk to her.

“Hi Cindy, how are you? Your grandmother tells me that Grandpa’s been sharing his famous Purple Raccoon story,” my mom said.

“Yeah, and it’s awesome. We’re going to hear the rest of it right after we finish cleaning the kitchen,” I told my mom.

“Well then I should let you go. Can I say a quick hello to Sam? I love you,” my mom said.

“I love you too, Mom. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.” I handed the phone to Sam and got right back to cleaning the kitchen, I really wanted to hear the rest of the story.

Once the kitchen was clean, we headed back into the family. My brother and I grabbed a blanket and got comfortable on the couch while my grandmother and grandfather sat in their favorite chairs.

“So, I believe the last thing I told you was that I had a brilliant idea of where to look next,” my grandfather began.

I figured that the stone would have to be close to where the animals lived in the forest. The other colorful animals who told them about the stone would have known how hard it would be for them to go out and look for it. So, my next guess was that the stone was probably in the water or near the water, close to the forest where the animals lived. My sisters and I would always get stones out of the lake when we went swimming. We each had a collection that we kept in our rooms on the dresser.

By the time we got back to the forest, it was five o’clock. We were tired and it seemed to take us forever to get back to the woods. But we weren’t giving up. We rushed straight to the water’s edge and began to look.

“I’ll start here. Rosco, you start at that end and Charlie, you start over there,” I said pointing to each end of the lake.

Rosco and Charlie agreed and we began to search. We checked every inch of the shoreline. It took us almost an hour and a half and still we had nothing. Finally, we met up where we started, feeling defeated.

“Well, that’s it. It’s six-thirty and we have nothing.

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