Dave Casler
PO Box 98
Ridgway, Colorado 81432
Young Adult Novels by Dave Casler...
I've been told by publisher after publisher that there's no market for Young Adult novels. I think they're wrong! So I'm putting my novels on-line for you. Forget the publisher! Read to your heart's content--it's free! And, I'd like to hear from you, too! Contact Page.
You're reading About Dan. Be sure to check out About Phillip here.
Dan is a normal kid who loves his soccer. Except everything goes wrong. Everything.
About Series Home
About the About Series
Index to All Chapters
Here are all the chapters, disguised as asterisks. Hover your mouse over an asterisk to see the title of the chapter. Click on the asterisk to go straight to that chapter.
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
(About Dan Home) (Last) (Next)
The Sahara Dream
It was hot, terribly hot. The brilliant blue sky offering nothing to block the sun. The dunes scorched his sunburned face. The heat was getting to him; he was dizzy. Is that an oasis over there?
His mother faltered. She complained her stomach hurt; she stumbled. He held her up. "Let’s go, mum! Keep going!" Get out of the sun, that's it. Find some shade. But where?
They stood, fascinated by a black speck that moved on the horizon. A helicopter coming to rescue them? The speck became a bird. How can a bird rescue us? The bird grew until it was the largest bird he'd ever seen—a wingspan of at least thirty feet. Had it come because it sensed impending death? The bird was green—the color of mold in the refrigerator—with the number 10 painted on each wing.
Dan stumbled and felt the hot sand on his face and legs. He wiped sand from his mouth. No wonder the bird found us—my uniform’s red. Dead giveaway! His mother shook her fist and yelled that she’d take her secret to the grave. The bird laughed and cawed and swirled overhead. With a great cry it swooped down and took her in an enormous claw; she screamed in anger and yelled down at a paralyzed Dan to get Ed. She fought and kicked but the bird laughed and cawed and climbed into the hot sky. After circling twice more, it flew away with his mother.
His knee was hot and then hotter. He groaned in agony, flinging sand with every limb. His knee cracked open; flames burst out of the cracks. He screamed with all his might.
Crash! He hit his head on something; he swore.
He gasped and took his bearings. Bedroom. I’m in the bedroom. He was holding his bum knee; his finger was caught in the brace. His pajamas were soaked. His pillow was across the room by his guitar and the blankets and sheets were everywhere. Nothing was left on the bed.
He pulled his finger from the brace and sucked on it. It tasted like aluminum. The cold light coming through the window told of clouds.
It was Christmas Day.