Fiction, Jack

Jack and The Fountain of Youth — Audio Installment 4

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Jack Cover with border small canvas

by HL Carpenter
ISBN: 978-0-9884095-1-4
Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9884095-0-7
Copyright (c) 2012 by Top Drawer Ink Corp.


Continued from Audio Installment 3
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Jack and The Fountain of Youth — Audio Installment 4


Read along with us!
Below is the text version of the audio.

“Yes, we’re fine,” Nessa called back.

The guy she’d run over was fine. Finer than frog’s hair, to use Mrs. Kuhn’s favorite expression. Would the unsettling sense of knowing come back if their gazes locked again? To her dismay—no, relief—he had tucked the notepad in his pocket and was no longer looking at her.

She bent to pick up her bike at the same moment he did. Her elbow bounced off his nose. He let go of the handlebars and muttered a Spanish word that sounded suspiciously like a curse. The bike crashed to the ground at her feet. She skittered sideways, bumping into him, and reached out to steady him.

He jumped back, clutching his nose as the trickle of blood erupted into a raging river. “Please, two bloody noses a day is my limit.”


She wanted to disappear. That would probably make him happy too.

He kept a wary eye on her as he fumbled his notebook from his pocket, tore out a sheet of paper, and tried to staunch the flow of blood.

“Tilt your head forward and pinch the bridge of your nose,” she said. “That’ll stop the bleeding.”

He frowned, lowered the paper, and followed her instructions. With his high cheekbones and full lips, he looked like a young hot Zorro. All he needed was a black mask. And a cape. And a horse instead of the mountain bike.

And she really, really needed to get out of the greenhouse more often.

The flow of blood ebbed. The Zorro-look-a-like said, “Thanks. That is a great trick. Even better than the folk remedy of drinking water out of an old shoe.”

“I’ve never heard that one.” She smiled. “But I’m always glad to be of help to handsome guys.”

“Umm. Well.” His cheeks reddened. He shoved the blood-speckled paper into his pocket. “Maybe there is one more thing you can help me with. I am trying to find someone.”

Her smile wobbled. “You are?”

.” He flipped a few pages in the notebook. “Moran Tennies. Do you know him?”

He was looking for Tenspot? Was the kid in trouble again?

“Why do you want him?”

“I am investigating a story. I am a reporter.”

“You’re a…a what?” She choked on the words.


***** ABOUT THE AUTHOR *****

HL Carpenter is the pen name of a Florida-based mother/daughter duo who writes from their studios in Carpenter Country, a magical place that, like their stories, is unreal but not untrue. When they’re not writing, the Carpenters enjoy exploring the Land of What-If and practicing the fine art of Curiosity.

Also by HL Carpenter:

The SkyHorse. Fourteen year old Tovi thinks finding a flying horse is fabulous luck–until a mysterious stranger says finders aren’t always keepers.

Dream Stealer. Is stealing a dream better than losing your own?


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