Oorah!

Allen Johnson

Description

A ten-year-old American girl is intent on proving to her father, fallen in battle, that she is as brave as he.
Oorah! The Adventures of a Brave Girl is the story of an American ten-year-old tomboy. Although her name is Samantha, she prefers to be called Sam in honor of her father’s first name. Her greatest desire is to become as brave as her dad, a United States Marine who died in battle during the Vietnam War.
Although Sam’s mother, Priscilla, is also American, she was born and raised in Surrey, England. Priscilla decides to send Sam to England for the summer where the youngster will be greeted by her grandmother, the Duchess of Surrey. Priscilla hopes the duchess will turn her little ruffian into a proper lady. Will it work? Even Priscilla has her doubts.
As soon as Sam arrives, she meets an English boy, Oliver, who is a year older than she. Together they have one riotous adventure after the other—riding across the English hillsides on horseback with their trusted Great Dane at their side.
How will a rough-and-tumble ten-year-old girl deal with lordly British aristocrats? How will she battle a ghostly knight come to life? How will she capture the one animal the English could never land: The Beast? And what mind-boggling discovery will make her an international celebrity?

Sujets

• Juvenilee Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Archway Publishing
• Date de parution: 26 avril 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665739061
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Oorah!

The Adventures of a Brave Girl



ALLEN JOHNSON



Copyright © 2023 Allen Johnson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.



Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3905-4 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-3904-7 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-3906-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023902978



Archway Publishing rev. date: 04/25/2023




















Dedicated to
All the children
who love an adventure



Table of Contents
1 Extraordinary Heroism
2 Sam Meets Molly
3 A Walk in the Woods
4 Like Father, Like Son
5 Sam Versus the Beast
6 The Price of Fame
7 The Grand Soiree
8 Head over Heels
9 The Ghost of Leith Hill Tower
10 Sam Disappears
11 The Fall
12 The Mystery of the Cave
13 The Treasure Below
14 Sam, Oliver, and the Egg
15 Queen’s Growth Spurt
16 The Family Meeting
17 A Ride into Town
18 A Sad Goodbye
19 The Mystery of the Key
20 Where’s Molly?
21 Together Again
22 Summer’s End
23 Goodbye
A Few Words from the Author



1
Extraordinary Heroism
Pendleton, Oregon, 1969
Samantha Madison, or simply “Sam,” as she preferred, was not fond of watching TV or wearing fancy dresses or sitting around with nothing to do. That wasn’t her style. The feisty ten-year-old fifth grader preferred climbing trees, riding horses, and playing baseball with the boys.
But Sam’s mother, Mrs. Priscilla Madison, favored a more restrained nature. “Darling, I think it’s time you become a bit more mannerly and ladylike,” she said more than once.
What does that even mean? Mannerly and ladylike . The words made Sam roll her eyes and puff out her cheeks. “Yuck. More like dull and boring.”
She knew her mother loved her, but did she understand her? After her father, Samuel, died fighting in the Vietnam War, the feeling crept through her as silently as nightfall.
There was a flame of truth that burned inside Sam’s chest. She was more like her father than her mother. British by birth, her mother still retained the Queen’s English accent and a flair for order and dignity. Although Sam never said it aloud, her mother could be a bit old-fashioned—what Sam called “a stick-in-the-mud.” Her father, on the other hand, was an American roughneck: strong, playful, and, of course, courageous. Although her mother was unaware—or didn’t want to be aware—the spirit of her Marine father raced in Sam’s blood.
One day, when Priscilla wasn’t looking, Sam slipped into her mother’s bedroom, opened the top dresser drawer, and let her fingertips trace her father’s medal, the Navy Cross. At that moment, a sliver of sunlight pierced a slatted window blind and fell across the medal. It glowed so brightly it made her heart jump. She jerked back, caught her breath, then eased forward and touched the medal again. The light fell upon her fingers. She followed the beam to the window slats. Is my father speaking to me ?

“Dad?”
Although cast in silence, Sam smiled. Her last memory of her father came to mind.
She was nine-years-old, and he was saying goodbye. It would be his final tour of duty.
He picked her up and set her on his lap. “Sam, you have to be Marine strong for your mom. Can you do that for me while I’m gone?”
Sam tried to choke down the lump in her throat. “Yes, Dad.”
“That’s my girl. Oorah.”
“Oorah? What does that mean?” she asked.
“It’s a Marine battle cry.”
“Gee.”
His eyes were serious, his tone deeper. “But it’s more than that. It’s about pride, honor, and love. Don’t forget the word. When I say it to you, it means I’m proud of you, I honor you, I love you.”
Sam snuggled in and lay her cheek on her father’s broad chest.
He kissed the top of her head and said, “Wherever you are, whatever the challenge, I’ll be there for you. Oorah.”
Sam looked at the medal. “Oorah, Dad.” Then she read the citation.
THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
HAS AWARDED THE
NAVY CROSS
TO
LIEUTENANT SAMUEL B. MADISON
UNITED STATES MARINES
FOR
EXTRAORDINARY HEROISM
WHILE ENGAGED IN MILITARY OPERATIONS
ON 22 FEBRUARY 1969
Extraordinary heroism. Those two words were burned into Sam’s heart. The President of the United States was talking about her father. More than anything, it was what she wanted for herself: to be heroic and prove she loved her father as much as he loved her. That’s why the Navy Cross glowed. It’s Dad’s spirit speaking to me, encouraging me to be brave and strong.
Her father’s devotion had always been real. He’d confirmed it every day. She still remembered how he would lie on his back and lift his feet skyward like a dead bug. “Climb aboard,” he’d say. She would then rest her hips on his feet, outstretch her arms, and pretend to be an airplane. Then he would boost her into the air, catch her on the way down, and hug her ever so tightly. Even now, she could feel his love flowing through her.
***
Sam’s mother didn’t play airplane. She worried.
One day, Sam was climbing her favorite tree, a grand old maple. She shinnied up higher and higher until she could see the entire neighborhood and beyond to the horizon. It was magical.
What’s beyond the skyline? What if I could fly there? And what would lie beyond the next horizon? She was thinking about all that when she heard buzzing. A bee brushed her face, then a second and a third. She swatted the dive bombers with both hands.
Oh! She lost her balance, tried to catch herself, but fell to the branch below. For a moment, it knocked the breath out of her. But the bees had no sympathy. They were still circling her head. Again, she swiped at the stinging insects, which sent her tumbling to the next-lowest branch.
“Samantha!” It was her mother’s voice. “Jump—I’ll catch you.”
“I’m afraid,” Sam said.
Just then, a bee stung her cheek. “Ouch!” she shouted. “Mom!”
There was panic in her mother’s voice. “Samantha, jump now!”
Sam swallowed hard, closed her eyes, and let go. She landed in her mother’s arms, but with so much force, they both tumbled to the ground.
“Are you all right?” her mother asked.
“I…yes…I think so.”
Her mother rose to her knees, pulled Samantha into her chest, and pushed to her feet. “I’ve got you.” Her voice broke. “I’ve always got you.”
Priscilla rushed Samantha into the house, gently laid her on the living-room sofa, and dashed into the kitchen to make a paste with baking soda and water.
Returning to her daughter’s side, she applied the salve over the bee sting. “This will help reduce the pain.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Suddenly, Priscilla was crying. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You scared me.”
Sam threw her arms around her mother. “But, Mom, I’m okay.”
“I know, sweetheart, but you worry me.”
She paused and smiled softly. “Look at you.” She brushed a wayward strand of hair away from Sam’s brow. “When you wash away the grit and smudges—which is not nearly as often as you should—you look like autumn with your red and gold hair.” She fingered the rust-colored freckles that fell across the bridge of her daughter’s nose and nodded with satisfaction. “You will always have a lovely nose.” Then, with a smirk, she added, “If it’s not rearranged by a baseball bat one day.”
Sam smiled, which made her dimples dig in.
Her mother was silent for a moment. Her gaze became dreamy as if looking but not seeing, which troubled Sam.
“Mom, what are you thinking?”
Although Priscilla awakened from her daydream, her eyes remained sad. “We only lost your father three months ago,” she said, her voice so quiet Sam could hardly make out the words. “I cannot lose you. You have to be more careful. You’re such a tomboy. That’s fine. I love you for it, but I also think it’s good to know what it means to be more… well, ladylike.”
Sam grimaced.
“Not all the time, but when it is appropriate.” Priscilla raised her eyebrows. Although her lips curled up, the expression was more a plea than a smile. “Is that too much to ask?”
Sam thought about how the Navy Cross had glowed under the ray of sunlight. I feel your protection, Dad. I can’t tell Mom I talk to you. She wouldn’t understand. Besides, if I told her, it might make the magic disappear. I can’t risk that .
Sam gave her mom a hug. “No, Mom, it’s not too much to ask.”
After dabbing the paste over Samantha’s wound again, Priscilla straightened her back. Her eyes became so sad, Sam thought her mother was going to cry again. “Do you remember when your grandparents came to your dad’s funeral?”