Chapter 8 : The Two Men

Fry Words 175 – 200 : try   kind    hand  picture    again    change    off    play    spell     air    away    animal    house    point    page    letter    mother    answer    found    study    still    learn    should    America    world

The place looked like an animal house. Bill wished he could wave his hand and cast a magic spell to change everything back the way it was.

On the floor in his study among the broken glass and destroyed circuit boards, Bill found a three page letter from his mother that he'd forgotten to answer. He held in his shaking hand a picture of his father that his mother had sent with the letter. His father was in his thirties, before Bill had been born, and was outside the house, standing still looking away off into the distance. The letter said that his mother thought Bill should stay at home on Earth and study and learn about farming in America – not go off to another world. But he had been too stubborn to change.

Bill folded up the letter, put it with the photo in his back pocket and stood with his hands on his hips looking round at his laboratory. He didn't know what to do.

Maybe his mother had been right.

Suddenly, with a hiss a hot laser blast streaked past him and hit the wall above his head. He jerked round in shock to see two men outside the door coming towards him through the smoke with their blasters raised. With a cry Bill dived behind a counter and crawled on hands and knees to the other end of the lab as more laser blasts caused broken glass and sparks to rain down on his back and shoulders, burning his neck, and cutting his hands.

Who are these men? He thought. What are they looking for? Why are they trying to kill me?

Too many questions and not enough answers.

Copyright © Chris Young 2018

Photo Credit : https://www.pexels.com/photo/black-and-white-man-young-lonely-48566/

Chapter 7 : The Indian Boy

Fry Words 201 – 225 : every   near   add   food   between   own below   country   plant – planted   last   school   father   keep   tree never   start   city   earth   eye   light   think – thought   head   under story   see - saw

As Bill walked back to his laboratory, something made him think about his father. They used to wake up early every morning when the light was cool and clear, and plant seeds under the earth together on the farm in the country to grow their own food, and sometimes they planted trees near the house, between the fields. Then his father would work all day while Bill was at school in the city. He started school at 8am every day and studied until 8pm at night, so he never saw his father again until bedtime, when his eyes were closing and he put his heavy head down on the pillow and his father read him a story.

Bill used to climb under the covers in his warm safe bed and he thought, “I hope this will keep going and last forever.”

When Bill arrived at his laboratory he found that his door was a little open.

He stopped. He had added a lock two weeks ago, and it now lay broken on the floor below the handle.

He pushed the door gently with his finger and it squeaked open.

Inside, darkness.

A laboratory

There was no sound, except for his own breathing and the beating of his heart.

“What's going on?” he thought. Suddenly he noticed a small figure move in the darkness behind a unit, which was covered in broken computers and smashed monitors.

“Oh,” Bill thought. “All my equipment! It's been destroyed!”

Just then the figure ran at him, trying to squeeze past and through the door, but Bill caught him by the scruff of his neck.

It was an Indian boy! He stared up at Bill snarling and spitting like a wild animal, before grabbing the piece of paper from his hand and kicking him in the leg. “Ow!” Bill shouted. Then he twisted from Bill's grip and ran off.

Bill watched him go. “Wait!” he called, but the boy disappeared into the dark trees.

With a sigh Bill entered his laboratory and switched on the light. Everything had been destroyed. His computers, his hard drives, his files. All his life's work – gone!

© Chris Young 2018

Chapter 6 : The Indian Girl

Fry Words 226 to 300 : left   might   something   paper   together group   run - ran   important   children   side   feet   mile   night   walk white    sea   begin – began   four   state   book   without   second   late   miss   idea   face   watch   Indian   above   girl   sometimes   mountain   cut   young   talk   soon   list   song   leave -left   family   music   colour

Bill walked to the town square through the failing light and when he arrived it was completely dark. There was a group of four children there, who had come down from the mountain. One was a young girl carrying a book. Her face was white in a state of fear and she made a high pitched sound. 

Seeing the girl's Indian face, Bill got an idea. He couldn't communicate with the mountain people. Sometimes it's too soon to talk with words, but you can use music. And colour. 

“It's okay,” he said as he watched them run back to their families without a second look. “I'm not going to harm you.” He didn't want them to leave but it was too late. He had missed his chance.

While he was walking back to the six sponge balls, he thought of ways to communicate through colour and music. It was important not to make a mistake, and who knew if colours and music had the same effects in their language?

But first it was important to find something that might change colour and also produce music. Like what? A singing chameleon? No. He needed his computer. He would put a song list together on paper first. 

A chameleon

Then he saw something white moving in the dark and he began to run after it. It was a piece of paper from the Indian girl's book.

In the light of the moon he could just see what was on it. Under some writing which he couldn't read there was a picture of the six black balls in the town square with the four children around it in a group. At the left side was a taller figure – a man – with a book at his feet. Above them, white lights cut through the night, and in the background, miles behind them, the sea, and on its white waves, a ship, exploding in red, fiery sparks.

© Chris Young 2018

Image credit : https://www.flickr.com/photos/tambako/5950321085