The Perils of Chelle

The time has come at last. The Perils of Chelle, a storied anthology in my family, is about to be published for the first time on the web. Allow me to introduce you to this collection of wonders. Perils consists of four tales I wrote (or, more accurately, painstakingly dictated to my mother) between the ages of four and six. All of them are about my cousin Chelle and me, and the seemingly abundant tragedies that befall her. Poor Chelle seems to have a rather diabolical and accident-prone disposition.

You may find it hard to believe, but some of the things in these tales are not strictly factual. For one thing, Chelle was never actually hit by a car, kidnapped by a stranger, caught in an explosion at the local convenience store, nor yet gored by a bull. For another, I am approximately a year and a half years older than Chelle - her age was deflated and mine inflated in most of the stories. My mom baby-sat Chelle at our house three times a week for a couple of years, and I liked to feel superior.

The story I'm linking to for the first edition of Perils is actually the third one I wrote, but it is by far my favorite. I wrote this story when I was four years old. I had not started kindergarten yet, but the tale was loosely (very loosely) inspired by my sisters' tales of their kindergarten classes visiting a farm. To clarify: I have no family living on any farms, I don't even have any uncles I wouldn't share with Chelle, and I'm not sure exactly where the "tree and meadow part of Chicago" was supposed to be.

Enjoy! CHELLE AND THE BULL