The following stories are fiction. I do have a grand daughter named Emily who inspired these stories while visiting one summer. But, there is no real Emily with super powers except in the minds of Grandparents everywhere.
But, if there were a young girl with super powers, it would be Emily. Just the name exudes power.
I invite you to sit back, suspend reality for a few moments and enter the life of
Super Emily.
You don’t have to be eight-years-old to take pleasure in a book about an eight-year-old. Parents, aunts, uncles, everyone, dig in and enjoy these adventures. If you and your Emily enjoy them at the same time – you reading to her, her reading to you – so much the better.
Start reading.
EMILY SAVES THE CHOCOLATE MAN
"Help. Help."
I jumped up from my Barbie beach towel and looked out across the water. Faint white splashes appeared way out in the ocean. I could barely make out the outline of an overturned red boat with two yellow stripes bobbing in the waves. Joe, the lifeguard was hustling down from his tower and heading towards the shoreline. He snatched his orange rescue board from where it stood like a carrot in the sand.
"Over here, Emily. Quick," he said. "Monsieur Èclair has fallen from his boat. Come, help me."
Everyone knew M. Èclair. He owned the chocolate factory in town. All the candies consumed by me and all the other eight-year-old kids in Mary Jane Falls came from that factory. This was an important rescue for a young, super hero like me.
Don’t let that super hero line confuse you. I don’t wear a cape or anything. But even though I look like an ordinary little girl, my past is filled with hair-raising adventures and rescues.
I fought off the terrible thoughts passing through my mind. Christmas without chocolate Santa Clauses, Valentine’s Day with no chocolate hearts, Easter and no chocolate bunnies. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
I jumped on the rescue board with Joe. Together we started paddling towards M. Èclair’s overturned boat. Waves kept turning the nose of the board away from the open ocean. This would never work.
I put two salty fingers between my lips. Yeech. They tasted terrible. I gave a long piercing whistle. From out of nowhere a dolphin appeared beside the board.
"M. Èclair is drowning," I said. "You’ve got to help us."
I jumped on its back and took a deep breath We dove under the water. Bubbles of air streamed passed me as the dolphin slowly exhaled. I reached out, caught one and breathed it in. Salty, sea air. Good, now I could stay under even longer.
I kept looking over the dolphin's head for a sign of M. Èclair. Up ahead I spotted our target. Fantastic. If I could pull off this rescue, I knew what I’d be eating every day for the rest of M. Èclair’s life. Chocolate.
M. Èclair was sitting on the bottom of the ocean with a dazed look. The Dolphin swam right up to him and blew some air in his face. M. Èclair recoiled in fear. Being face to face with a dolphin was a new experience for the chocolate maker.
I slipped off the dolphin’s back and grabbed some of the fleeting bubbles.
"Breathe this." I said.
M. Èclair looked at me dumfounded.
I brought the bubble to my mouth and took a deep breath. Pop went the bubble as all the air disappeared from it. His face lit up with understanding. The dolphin nodded and blew out some more bubbles. I grabbed one in each hand. One for me, one for M. Èclair. Pop, pop.
We climbed aboard the dolphin and headed for the surface. Joe was waiting. "What took so long?" he asked, but with a smile on his face. Together we managed to transfer M. Èclair to the rescue board. Relief washed over him like a wave. In fact it was a wave. M. Èclair coughed and spit the salty water from his mouth.
"Relax," Joe said. "You’re OK now,"
Paddling back to shore with the waves was easier than coming out against them. Joe no longer needed my help.
I stayed on my dolphin and we skimmed across the ocean surface. This was fun, even for a super hero. Too soon, Mr. Dolphin dumped me on shore.
"Thanks for the help," I said.
I looked out and could see Joe and M. Èclair making their way in. Everything was going to be fine. The candy factory was safe.
I found my umbrella and heaved a sigh of relief. Rescuing people is exhausting work. I plopped down on the sand to relax.
The sun was no longer directly overhead. My bathing suit was dry. My mother turned from reading her book and smiled at me.
"Welcome back, sleepyhead," she said.
That was a strange way to greet a returning hero, I thought. I stretched my arms over my head and stifled a yawn. Something sticky landed on the side of my face. I looked at my hand. It was covered in melted chocolate. Oh, what a mess. M. Èclair must have been along to reward me.
A coating of sand blanketed the remains of the chocolate bar in my hand. M. Èclair, you should know better than to give a little girl chocolate while she’s on the beach.
There would be no eating this reward. It was ant food.