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 Phillip. Be sure to check out About Dan here.

Phillip is a computer nerd who suddenly discovers a liking for track. Everything would be fine except for his father.


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Waiting for the Return

          Where once there had been a furry lump in front of the squawking television there was now a quivering, anticipatory ball of energy. Carmen stirred her ancient bones and yawned, looking down at Wolfgang with disapproval.

          "My goodness, dog!" she said. "Can’t you let an old woman get a nap?" nnnn

          Wolfgang paid no attention. He danced around the room, sniffing everything.

          "How can you tell they’re coming?"

          She looked at the clock on the mantle over the cold fireplace, squinting to make out the numbers. Eleven o’clock on a Wednesday night. She straightened herself in the chair. She checked her oxygen cord, centering it under her nose. Unconsciously, she pulled the mother-of-pearl comb out of her thick white hair, ran her hands through it and stuck the comb back in again with an expertise only eight decades can bring. She was just finishing as she heard the garage door. She grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.

          She listened to the noises from the garage. "That’s Martin," she said to Wolfgang. "Always a nice even cadence to his walk." She smiled at the thought of Martin. "Now there’s Margo. I wish she’d lose weight. The steps do complain so. There’s that lunk of an idiot she married. Such a gait. So cocky. Now where’s Phillip?" She couldn’t hear much above the noises in the kitchen. Was that Phillip on the stair? He was like a mouse, anyway. Hardly ever made any noise when he came in, until he slammed the screen door. There! That was it. Then the second slam of the kitchen door. No, wait! There was anger in that second slam. She frowned. What happened?

          "Shhhh…don’t wake Gramma." It sounded like Margo.

          "So how was the game?" bellowed Carmen. "Come in here and tell me about it!"

          Like a bat, Carmen followed all four of them through the kitchen and dining room by sound alone. Soon the door to the living room swung open. Margo was in first, followed by Martin. Carmen’s radar heard angry steps on the stairway, probably Phillip’s. She figured Lance either stayed in the kitchen or stopped in the dining room. No, that was the front door. She heard Lance’s footsteps on the porch, then the crunch of gravel under his shoes. He was walking away from the house. Where was he going?

          "Hello, Mom," said Margo as she bent to kiss Carmen.

           "Hi, Grams," chirped Martin, trying too hard to sound happy. "Good game. The Rockies finally won."

          "Yeah, so I saw on TV about an hour ago. It was televised, you know. What took you guys so long?"

          Martin looked at his mother. Margo coughed; she sat on the couch, looking away from Carmen and Martin. She pulled a tissue from her pocket.

          "Martin, go get Phillip," barked Carmen.

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© David Casler, 2006, all rights reserved. Comments? Contact Page.