The Adventures of Anna of Waverly Manor

  The Adventures of

  Anna of

  Waverly Manor

  by

  Jack Sorenson

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any similarity to events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and should be recognized as such.

  First edition October 2011

  Copyright © 2011 by Jack Sorenson

  Cover Design Copyright 2011 © Magnolia Belle

  All rights reserved

  For updates on Jack and his books:

  Website/Blog: https://jackrsorenson.blogspot.com/

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or means whatsoever (electronic, mechanical, or otherwise) without the prior written permission and consent of the author.

  ABOUT JACK SORENSON

  Jack R. Sorenson is an accomplished author who has published in many genres including fantasy, fiction, horror, and non-fiction. He lives in Los Gatos, a small town nestled between the Santa Cruz Mountains and San Jose, California, the heart of Silicon Valley. “The Adventures of Anna of Waverly Manor” makes Jack’s 27th publication.

  DEDICATIONS

  Magnolia Belle, my special friend, saved the day for coming back to help me finish this little story. Belle took the time to pull herself away from her book for mine. They say there is a special place in heaven for people like her. Thank you, Belle. She is a book editor, author, best seller and song writer. In 2010 Belle worked with me on my novels: “Jacks School of Shines,” and the Alana Weatherbee books series, including “Spooks and Magic.”

  People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us. ~Iris Murdoch, A Fairly Honourable Defeat

  To a great lady, and friend, Laura Garcia Cannon, anchor of weekday mornings NBC News Today in the bay. Thank you for your praise and friendship shown so often to me. What a sweet, kind and wonderful lady you truly are.

  Sweetness

  Is the most powerful strength

  of the heart.

  And to my dear friends, Ralph and Sue, my true friends. I am surely the lucky one for all you do, wow. I am amazed by your talent and thank you for all your hard work that you do out of true kindness; I surly enjoy my time talking with you.

  The Sacred Heart of the Moon smiles upon you.

  "Spirituality encompasses everything; therefore, it includes human character, too. To have a good character is to have honesty, simplicity, spontaneity, absence of anger, pride and so forth. When an ordinary human being possesses all these qualities, we call him a man of good character".

  Sri Chinmoy

  Jerry Starr, thanks always for the glad tidings and encouragement. You're a true gentleman if I ever met one. I sure have in you.

  True love is just around the corner for you one day.

  To the staff at Viva Los Gatos, and to Jeff (the owner), thank you for all your kindness and friendships and, best of all, your smiles. You are truly the nicest people in my home town of Los Gatos. Great food and great drinks. It's all worthwhile to sit and watch the world go by outside of Viva’s huge windows.

  Thank you, Randy Froh. You are one wonderful, amazing guy and much appreciated for your words of kindness shown always to me.

  Thank you, Amanda, Elizabeth, Steve, Jackie, Natasha and Jeff for being characters in this story.

  Yulia Vólkova from t.A.T.u., thank you, my friend. It's been wonderful chatting with you and listening to your great music. It's fun to talk with you often as we have gotten the chance to.

  Zahi Hawass, my friend. I always wish you well and the best of discoveries to come.

  Shannon Nicole, best of luck with your new book. I'm glad to have you back in my life.

  Darkness and Light

  Darkness wants to devour light.

  Light wants to transform darkness.

  God says to darkness: "Darkness, stop!"

  God says to light: "Light, start!

  Lo, you have won the goal."

  Daisy, thanks for your patience. "We could all stand to laugh a whole lot more in life!" We will grow old together, my dear, sweet kitty!

  Maria Bartiromo, Anchor CNBC Closing Bell and host/managing editor of The Wall Street Journal Report with Maria Bartiromo: thank you for the many talks and daily advice; you are the one of the few who really understands and knows the market.

  A thank you goes out to Alizée, my friend. Love your hopes and dreams and your so-famous style.

  Lisa Kelly from Ice Road Trucker, thanks for all the talks we have had. You have an amazing life.

  Lindsay Lawler, singer-songwriter, keep a rocking. You're an amazing lady.

  Jamie Lynn Spears, thanks for the many talks. I appreciate it. You're sweet and kind.

  Oscar, we watched you grow to a handsome young cat. You  climbed to the treetops and to the peaks of the two story building. I describe that for Logan’s point of view in the "Alana Weatherbee" series, high atop a building, gazing up at the sky and far and away, sitting as a statue to admire the sun setting each and every day. Your freedom was marvelous. We loved you as much as your own family. It was fun to have the privilege to known you, my friend. I cherish that memory of our short time together with fondness and much love.

  A huge thank you goes out to those who believe in me. To Mother and to Father, thank you for all you have done and said, and for your understanding kindness in standing by my side with reassurances and praises, compassion and for hearing the endless ramblings of book blurbs weekly only to respond with cheerfulness and reassuring comments and much congratulations no matter how big or small the steps I've taken that week.

  One day someone will ask if you felt you lived your life well. In my case, I can safely say at this point, it's not how I lived it or enjoyed it as much as, when I left, did I leave the few behind who knew me and what I tried to achieve? Did I make you smile or laugh, did I love you enough, and was I mean or nice? Did I keep all my promises that I made? In my time remaining, I feel it best to say my true feelings daily to others, as what I have said will be truly most remembered.

  Author Jack Sorenson, Los Gatos, CA

  The two strongest women I've know in my life are my mother and Belle. The two men I feel have been the strongest are my father and Ralph.

  Who is Anna of Waverly Manor?

  Anna had a short life, one that she loved and missed dearly. But her feelings ran cold when her thoughts turned to memories of her past life. She adored the feeling of a family bond when she was alive. But it was all in vain; her life was never to be what she truly wanted, and now she yearned to heal from her past scars.

  She was not an unkind witch for a young girl, nor was she a brutal witch either, though her looks could be incredibly cruel and make a living person or ghosts shake in their boots. When Anna wanted to do something, no one stood in her way. That's just the way it was in the attic of Waverly Manor.

  Anna was more thoughtful and caring than most people knew, and she watched over her ghost friends, Tomfoolery and little Boo. She was neither good, nor evil, but rather a sad, tormented and twisted creature, overrun with power and insatiable loneliness that would be unbearable if it weren't for Tomfoolery and Boo…and soon, for little Jackie McCaulou.

  One night, Boo saw Anna stir and toss in her sleep. Tomfoolery and he hovered by the corner of the attic crawl space where they watched from a safe spot. Anna flipped wildly and flicked her wand at any general direction, scaring Tomfoolery and Boo, trying their hardest to stay away from any mislaid spell cast in Anna’s
sleep.

  Anna woke up in a fright, half asleep, and screamed into the darkness like she was out of her mind.

  She jumped out of bed and got onto her knees, crawling across the attic floor to where Boo and Tomfoolery rested. She felt much better having them with her as she tried to fight off remembering her terrible dream, still running loose in her mind. Anna trembled with a refreshed fear of her horrible past.

  In Anna's recurring nightmares, she started to walk down a cobblestone road, but it was hard, and it hurt her bare feet.

  Anna was poor and lived with her mother, a witch who barely made a living as a healer. Anna's father was murdered the previous spring by a man saying he owed him money. This deeply depressed her, being the one to find him lethally wounded so close to their cottage.

  His last words were, "Be wary, daughter. The man on a dark horse, the Halloween Man, will collect payment regardless if I am alive or not. Live well and take good care of your mother. You are very special to me."

  Every muscle in her body stiffened, thinking of that day. Anna loved her father as she did her mother. She winced whenever she put her feet down, stepping onto the sharp stones. She remembered how her boots were covered in his blood and how she could never wear them again. Anna went to the market to find this man who killed her father. Her wand lay hidden as she came to seek revenge.

  After a few more steps, Anna stopped to recover her breath. As she did so, she heard voices from inside the nearest tent close to the market place in the small village. Anna pulled her oversized hat down over her eyes — her father's hat she wore with pride. It sounded as if they were arguing, but Anna could not catch the words.

  But the mere sound of them made fear spike though her again. If there was even the slightest chance that the Halloween Man wanted to kill her mother or herself to regain some sort of payment, Anna had to kill this man. She had to get to the "Spirits' Curse" conjured from her wand, a feat of dark magic that she’d never tried before. It could kill many in one incantation.

  Until she had delivered her curse, she would never be free of her father's death tormenting her mind.

  Anna opened the tent flap and entered with her wand pointed, seeing the man who killed her father was not there. Three more were, though, who took payments for the man on the black horse as everyone had to pay a percentage for what they made at market.

  The voices fell silent, and the men froze. How loud Anna heard all of the men’s heartbeats! Anna stood with her wand drawn.

  Her imagination raced, supplying horrid images of the truth from the men’s minds.  They were bad men.

  Anna didn’t know the Halloween Man was closing in on her, racing his great black horse through the night.

  Anna looked again to the three men, and saw the blood-stained faces fall to the tent floor when the spell was said. Anna didn’t remembering saying it in her time of grief. Then came teeth bared in a scream of fury while Anna stepped out of the tent. As she did so, an arrow shot past her, only narrowly missing her upper arm. The Halloween Man stood up in the saddle, raising his arm like a declaration of war, and bellowed something to Anna standing small compared to his huge mount and to him. Behind her were cries of shock from the villagers witnessing the events unfold.

  Another arrow came, and Anna lunged and ran, but to where in the market square?

  With a wild forced cry, Anna hurled her next wand blast at the man's horse. He rolled past as his mount was struck and fell.

  Anna hit the ground, scraping the skin from her palms, but it would buy her no time. Not even The Halloween Man would attempt the "Spirits' Curse" spell, she thought, looking up, seeing him on foot and walking toward her. Behind him, his mount laid dead. Because even The Halloween Man values his own life more than you value yours, Anna thought. He may be the victor.

  Anna's thoughts spoke in darkness and many eerie voices from the dead spirits floated around her, warning her that many good men had died trying the same feat as she.

  Anna pushed herself to her feet, but her wrist held the wand crookedly. Only bruised, she thought as she clutched it with the other hand and pressed it to her chest. Anna started to run, scrambling along the slope of the street's gutter, slipping and sliding in the waste and garbage. Anna glanced over her shoulder and at the Halloween Man gaining on her. eHe Without his horse, he could be fought on the ground in hand to hand combat, but Anna was too young and very small. When he got close enough, he plunged his sword into her chest.

  Now wounded and bleeding, she had no chance, but still she refused to give up.

  There was a hollow in the side of the hill, up the main road, then a dip with a few small trees leaning together around a cluster of stones.

  There, Anna thought. Halfway down, and running to take cover, her ankle turned on a stone. She fell again, not realizing she was mortally wounded, and then hauled herself up to crawl one-handed to the shelter of the trees.

  The man got ahead of her and was there, waiting. The whole village saw this and no one lent a hand or warned her he was there waiting to strike the final blow. But Anna had known he would be there and would be victorious in the end. Even so, she acted on revenge and took the chance to come after him to seek justice.

  To the onlookers, Anna looked as if she had been flung from the top of the hill and lay broken where she had landed, but a trail of crushed grass led to the place where she lay, showing that she had crawled, refusing to give up until her last breath.

  "I'm here," Anna yelled in a half cry, intending to act tough, and then she touched the man's sword blade as it entered her flesh.

  "I heard you. I've come."

  Anna died that day—just another young girl murdered in a bad streets of the era.  A crow flew by—the sunset came quickly. All thoughts of that day's events ended and a new day would begin tomorrow with new worries. Anna stood in darkness, looking at her broken body laying at her feet, and looking at the small light shining on her sweet little face in death. Someone stood beside her.

  "Who are you?'

  "My name is Boo. What’s yours?"

  "Anna."

  CHAPTER 1

  Upstairs in the attic of Waverly Manor, Anna shouted to Boo, "What a disgustingly beautiful day outside today! Smell that fresh air!"

  "Peeyuu!" Boo held his nose.

  "Don't worry," Anna said. "I'll summon a gray cloud, or wait…" She thought to herself while she pressed the wooden wand tighter that she carried. "Dark rainy clouds to cover the old manor would be better." She turned to both ghosts. "Right guys?"

  "We've done the gray day clouds a bit too much, Anna." Boo floated to the window and back.

  "Oh! How about bats flying through the area by the thousands to block out the sun?" Her rich red hair glistened in the light streaming through the attic window and her delicate features lit up at the new idea.

  Tomfoolery grumbled from the back of the room. "You done the bat routine already."

  "Oh, right!" Anna coughed and blew a cobweb free of its nest, sending the spider on a downward swirl of silk and mesh and setting its trapped captives free. A newly freed moth flew by Anna and said thanks. Anna sneezed out a greenish mist with her hot breath that smelled like a dirty gym sock and then coughed and wheezed.

  "Are you okay, Anna?" Boo asked.

  Anna headed back to the dusty, stale air in the attic that bettered her condition. "Better now. Thanks, little Boo." Anna grumbled while she carried her wand at her side. "It's always so sunny these days. I can't put a stop to them all, now can I?"

  "Smells awful," Tomfoolery shouted. "Do something about the air at least, Anna."

  "Hey, Anna, don't give up," Boo said. "You can summon something wicked or invoke something terrific. How’d that be?"

  Anna cringed. "How can the living stand it?"

  "You know those humans," Tomfoolery said.

  Anna grumbled. "Yeah, most I do."

  Tomfoolery and Boo looked up to Anna and in unison asked, "What?"

  "They think everything is jus
t so wonderful. Well, I'll put a stop to that!"

  "That's our girl, Anna. Do the world in. Invoke a huge hairy beast to rip apart the earth." Tomfoolery and Boo worried they'd gone too far with the rip apart the earth bit and said, "We were just kidding."

  "I've got it!" Anna shouted. "Where's my spell book?" She whistled for her trusted book. It rattled and shook from underneath its heavy load of piles of boxes.

  "We hid it like you asked last time when your spell backfired and burned part of Tomfoolery's cloak," Boo said. "You really got a thing against the living, Anna."

  "It's all that free goodwill," Anna commented, "that I can't stand. Happy little faces smiling at the world like they were somehow the creators of all its splendors. Ha-ha!"

  Anna scrounged through the pile of old boxes filled with books, knickknacks, lamps, old clothes, shoes and winter boots, and looked at all the symbolic memories of time gone by. Memories had an almost magical power to evoke feelings, but she knew it was better not to stir up the emotions she once felt. They could inspire hope in a time of despair, courage in the face of danger, and belonging in the midst of loneliness—but they left her feeling nothing but hopeless.

  ***

  Anna and the ghosts found it funny to spook the living, especially when it came to anyone who lived at the manor, like the Milfoils. One morning in early July, Anna started the witching hour a bit too early in the day. It had to be morning instead of night due to what was about to happen to the old place. Plans had been drawn out and men would be there soon with their machinery to bulldoze the old building down flat.

  The old woman who lived there and her highfalutin, overpriced decorator wanted nothing more than to tear the manor down, board by board, stone by stone, and start from scratch with a new structure.

  That would not happen in Anna, Tomfoolery and Boo's eyes. The threesome would lose their home. In the wee hours of the morning, they glued everything the family owned to the ceiling.

  The Milfoils woke with a huge shock, seeing the bed they were in and their furnishings glued to the ceiling. Anna made sure their sheets were tucked in tightly so they wouldn't fall out, but that didn't stop the Milfoils from screaming.