The Eighth Chapter – (by Ronni Paine)
When Harrison floated up to the dock in the boat two men were waiting. Both had short dark hair and their faces were expressionless. “Hello!” Harrison greeted cheerfully. Both the men just nodded curtly. “How are you on this lovely day?”
“Oh fine,” replied one of the men. The other said nothing. Harrison didn’t attempt to make conversation again as they helped him tie up the boat.
“Well, thank you chaps! By the way, do you know if that small diner on Second Street is still there? I haven’t been here in a few years.”
“Yes, it’s still there,” one of the men replied.
“Thank you! Well, goodbye!” He nodded politely then walked away. Neither of the men said goodbye, and Harrison thought their unfriendliness seemed strange. It was like there minds were on another world or something. But then again, not everyone was cheerful.
After paying for his boat to stay there, he walked the short walk to the small café. He chose a spot at the counter and was looking at the menu when two men sat on either side of him. He turned to look at each of them. Both were large, muscular men, wearing all black and staring at Harrison. “Hello there sir. You don’t look familiar, are you new in town?” the man on his right asked.
“Well I haven’t been here in about two years. I just came from the island about half an hour ago.”
“Ah. And what island would that be? Do you live there?”
“Pitcairn Islands. And yes, I live there. And if you don’t mind me asking, why are you asking me all these questions?”
“Curiosity my friend. We just like to get to know the people in town. Now just one more question if you don’t mind. Is the water that you drink on that island any different than the water elsewhere?”
“Why yes but why-“ he was knocked unconscious by the man to his left.
When he woke up Harrison found himself in a small brightly lit room. The walls were cold metal, and it was empty except for himself. The door was of course locked. He ran his hand through his hair then scooted over to sit against the back wall. He wondered what the hell was going on. It must’ve been a misunderstanding, he hadn’t done anything wrong. And who were those two guys? They weren’t wearing police uniforms, but they might have been undercover. There was hardly any crime in the area, so it couldn’t a gang. Unless one had moved in during the past two years, which Harrison felt was doubtful. A cool female voice suddenly came from the ceiling, where Harrison noticed a speaker when he looked up.
“We hope you are all right. Please be patient, and Bernice will be seeing you soon.” Harrison wondered who Bernice was. The chief of police maybe? Although so far this seemed like a pretty strange prison, not that Harrison had much experience in those. Maybe I should stop guessing and wait and see what happens, he thought.
About ten minutes later, two men walked in. They looked very similar to the ones from the café, but after a closer look he realized they were different men. “Get up,” one of them ordered. “Bernice will see on now.” Harrison slowly stood up. One of the men grabbed him and quickly handcuffed him. With one man holding each of his arms they led him out of the room and down the hall. After an elevator ride and several turns they stopped in front of a large wooden door. Than man on Harrison’s right sharply knocked and a voice said “enter.” The man opened the door and they walked in.
The room was a fairly large office, lined with bookcases, none of which contained books, but rather a large variety of strange items. In the center of the room was a large wooden desk, and behind it was a large chair, more like a throne than a chair. In the throne sat a man. His brown hair was graying, and his face was expressionless. His cold blue-green eyes stared into Harrison’s making a chill run down his spine. There was something very eerie about this man. In front of the desk was a simple wooden chair that didn’t look very comfortable. Harrison was shoved into the wooden chair and the two men stood behind him.
“Hello, I am Bernice. First of all, are you feeling all right?” He had a strange accent that Harrison couldn’t place.
“Yes, I feel fine. But I’m very confused as to wh-“
“Good. What is your name?” The man interrupted.
“Harrison. And may I ask why-“
“No. No questions allowed from you. Where do you live?”
“Pitcairn Islands.”
“Who lives there with you?” Bernice continued.
“Would you first please explain-“
“No. Who lives there with you?”
“Aaron Thatcher and his daughters.”
“Really. You live on an island only with another man and his children? Interesting.”
“Yes, I’m the butler. Are you trying to imply something?”
“Of course not. Also, what did I say about asking questions? Now, what do your duties as butler include?”
“Well in a way I’m more than the butler. I am the local entertainer, cook, mental support, chimney sweep, official ribbon-tier, nanny, pet caretaker, substitute hair brusher and banana peeler in cases of fractured arms, lost-monkey finder, gold fish feeder, brave rescuer of drowning young girls in oceans and fish ponds, and much more,“ Harrison explained with a small smile.
“Interesting, very interesting. Now tell me about the water on your island.”
“I don’t see how that is significant to anything.”
“It’s significance is insignificant to you. Answer the question now.”
“Well, Mr. Thatcher filters it using this special plant.”
“What plant is this?”
“I have no idea what it’s called. I’ve never seen anything like it before and I know quite a bit about plants. He never told me either. Kept that secret to himself. I know he found it when we moved to the island.”
“I would like to meet this Mr. Thatcher. Pitcairn Islands is where you live? I will have someone go there. Now as for what to do with you…what did you say your name was again?”
“Harrison.”
“Ah, yes, Harrison. What an peculiar name. Now, as for what to do with you. The most logical thing is to make you like the rest of the humans. However, the most logical course is not always my favourite. No, I would like to attempt a little experiment on you,” he said with a sly smile.
“An experiment?!” Harrison was alarmed. “What do you mean experiment? Who are you anyways? You talk about humans like you’re not one, though you certainly look like one to me!” Bernice chuckled.
“You’ll find out soon enough. I am not a human. Neither are most of the people who work for me. We are Fordavians to be specific. However I believe humans prefer the term ‘aliens’.”
“Aliens? Are you joking?” Bernice chuckled again.
“Of course I’m not joking. You humans appear to never believe anything.”
“Well aliens are not something we’ve ever had proof existed so we question things such as this,” Harrison explained.
“I wouldn’t think humans would need proof to believe something. That seems apparent in your religion. However I’d rather not get into a discussion about your religion. That was the most unpleasant topic I studied in regards to humans. Now would you like to know your fate?”
“I suppose I don’t have a say in the matter.”
“How would you, Harrison, like to be a…butler I believe the word was? For an alien?” He gave Harrison a large, creepy looking smile.
When Harrison floated up to the dock in the boat two men were waiting. Both had short dark hair and their faces were expressionless. “Hello!” Harrison greeted cheerfully. Both the men just nodded curtly. “How are you on this lovely day?”
“Oh fine,” replied one of the men. The other said nothing. Harrison didn’t attempt to make conversation again as they helped him tie up the boat.
“Well, thank you chaps! By the way, do you know if that small diner on Second Street is still there? I haven’t been here in a few years.”
“Yes, it’s still there,” one of the men replied.
“Thank you! Well, goodbye!” He nodded politely then walked away. Neither of the men said goodbye, and Harrison thought their unfriendliness seemed strange. It was like there minds were on another world or something. But then again, not everyone was cheerful.
After paying for his boat to stay there, he walked the short walk to the small café. He chose a spot at the counter and was looking at the menu when two men sat on either side of him. He turned to look at each of them. Both were large, muscular men, wearing all black and staring at Harrison. “Hello there sir. You don’t look familiar, are you new in town?” the man on his right asked.
“Well I haven’t been here in about two years. I just came from the island about half an hour ago.”
“Ah. And what island would that be? Do you live there?”
“Pitcairn Islands. And yes, I live there. And if you don’t mind me asking, why are you asking me all these questions?”
“Curiosity my friend. We just like to get to know the people in town. Now just one more question if you don’t mind. Is the water that you drink on that island any different than the water elsewhere?”
“Why yes but why-“ he was knocked unconscious by the man to his left.
When he woke up Harrison found himself in a small brightly lit room. The walls were cold metal, and it was empty except for himself. The door was of course locked. He ran his hand through his hair then scooted over to sit against the back wall. He wondered what the hell was going on. It must’ve been a misunderstanding, he hadn’t done anything wrong. And who were those two guys? They weren’t wearing police uniforms, but they might have been undercover. There was hardly any crime in the area, so it couldn’t a gang. Unless one had moved in during the past two years, which Harrison felt was doubtful. A cool female voice suddenly came from the ceiling, where Harrison noticed a speaker when he looked up.
“We hope you are all right. Please be patient, and Bernice will be seeing you soon.” Harrison wondered who Bernice was. The chief of police maybe? Although so far this seemed like a pretty strange prison, not that Harrison had much experience in those. Maybe I should stop guessing and wait and see what happens, he thought.
About ten minutes later, two men walked in. They looked very similar to the ones from the café, but after a closer look he realized they were different men. “Get up,” one of them ordered. “Bernice will see on now.” Harrison slowly stood up. One of the men grabbed him and quickly handcuffed him. With one man holding each of his arms they led him out of the room and down the hall. After an elevator ride and several turns they stopped in front of a large wooden door. Than man on Harrison’s right sharply knocked and a voice said “enter.” The man opened the door and they walked in.
The room was a fairly large office, lined with bookcases, none of which contained books, but rather a large variety of strange items. In the center of the room was a large wooden desk, and behind it was a large chair, more like a throne than a chair. In the throne sat a man. His brown hair was graying, and his face was expressionless. His cold blue-green eyes stared into Harrison’s making a chill run down his spine. There was something very eerie about this man. In front of the desk was a simple wooden chair that didn’t look very comfortable. Harrison was shoved into the wooden chair and the two men stood behind him.
“Hello, I am Bernice. First of all, are you feeling all right?” He had a strange accent that Harrison couldn’t place.
“Yes, I feel fine. But I’m very confused as to wh-“
“Good. What is your name?” The man interrupted.
“Harrison. And may I ask why-“
“No. No questions allowed from you. Where do you live?”
“Pitcairn Islands.”
“Who lives there with you?” Bernice continued.
“Would you first please explain-“
“No. Who lives there with you?”
“Aaron Thatcher and his daughters.”
“Really. You live on an island only with another man and his children? Interesting.”
“Yes, I’m the butler. Are you trying to imply something?”
“Of course not. Also, what did I say about asking questions? Now, what do your duties as butler include?”
“Well in a way I’m more than the butler. I am the local entertainer, cook, mental support, chimney sweep, official ribbon-tier, nanny, pet caretaker, substitute hair brusher and banana peeler in cases of fractured arms, lost-monkey finder, gold fish feeder, brave rescuer of drowning young girls in oceans and fish ponds, and much more,“ Harrison explained with a small smile.
“Interesting, very interesting. Now tell me about the water on your island.”
“I don’t see how that is significant to anything.”
“It’s significance is insignificant to you. Answer the question now.”
“Well, Mr. Thatcher filters it using this special plant.”
“What plant is this?”
“I have no idea what it’s called. I’ve never seen anything like it before and I know quite a bit about plants. He never told me either. Kept that secret to himself. I know he found it when we moved to the island.”
“I would like to meet this Mr. Thatcher. Pitcairn Islands is where you live? I will have someone go there. Now as for what to do with you…what did you say your name was again?”
“Harrison.”
“Ah, yes, Harrison. What an peculiar name. Now, as for what to do with you. The most logical thing is to make you like the rest of the humans. However, the most logical course is not always my favourite. No, I would like to attempt a little experiment on you,” he said with a sly smile.
“An experiment?!” Harrison was alarmed. “What do you mean experiment? Who are you anyways? You talk about humans like you’re not one, though you certainly look like one to me!” Bernice chuckled.
“You’ll find out soon enough. I am not a human. Neither are most of the people who work for me. We are Fordavians to be specific. However I believe humans prefer the term ‘aliens’.”
“Aliens? Are you joking?” Bernice chuckled again.
“Of course I’m not joking. You humans appear to never believe anything.”
“Well aliens are not something we’ve ever had proof existed so we question things such as this,” Harrison explained.
“I wouldn’t think humans would need proof to believe something. That seems apparent in your religion. However I’d rather not get into a discussion about your religion. That was the most unpleasant topic I studied in regards to humans. Now would you like to know your fate?”
“I suppose I don’t have a say in the matter.”
“How would you, Harrison, like to be a…butler I believe the word was? For an alien?” He gave Harrison a large, creepy looking smile.
Chapter 7 -(by Maya Lee)
Neither Florence nor Violet could sleep that night. You would think it would be pretty easy to fall asleep in a room that was an exact replica of the room you grew up in. It wouldn’t be particularly easy to fall asleep when you were fully aware that you were on an alien planet, that your entire species could be brainwashed into wiping out the planet on which you currently resided, and that your best friend/butler could be one of those brainwashed-wiping-out-zombies. That would be the obvious reason of why you would be suffering from insomnia on an alien planet. But Florence and Violet were not that typical. They were actually too excited to sleep.
“Vi . . . psstt! Violet!” whispered Florence to her sister as they lay in their beds across the room from each other. “Are you awake Violet?”
“Yeah! I can’t possibly sleep. This is just too . . . awesome!” answered Violet in the same hushed tone.
“I know, right?! I don’t know why Dad is so freaked out about this. But I wish Harrison was here. . . I’m worried about him,” said Florence.
“Me too. I do hope he’s alright. I can’t imagine what it would be like to never see Harrison again. I believe he’s still alive . . . But while we’re both here . . . What do you want to do?”
“Well . . . we could read that diary we found today. That was pretty interesting,” suggested Florence. With that, she reached under her pillow and pulled out the old, battered diary. Violet tip-toed over to Florence’s bed, and they turned on a lamp and cuddled to read . . .
September 13th
Hello again. It’s still me, Becka. Gosh, I don’t even remember the last time I wrote in this thing. . . The last time I was in Russia I left this diary here. That was back when I was twelve. Well, now I’m twenty, and I’m only back in Russia to go to this wedding for a relative I’ve never even met before. I guess my life still isn’t that interesting since the last time I wrote in this diary. . . It’s still really weird to be writing in this. . . I can’t believe I wrote about that jerk Christopher all the time when I was twelve. . . But Jake, my younger brother, still is really, really, really annoying.
Bye, Becka
September 13th, but at night
So I can’t sleep. This big old Russian house always gave me the heeby-geebies.
When I opened this diary to write in it this morning, a letter fell out. It looked pretty old, but it wasn’t dated, so I couldn’t tell just how old it was. It’s written in this pretty handwriting that looks like my mom’s. In the letter, it talked about how the writer, Anna, misses her sister, a girl named Danika. It goes on and on about how much she misses Danika, how their home isn’t this same since Danika got kidnapped, and how her entire family is always acting all torn up about the whole ordeal. Danika, Danika, Danika. I guess the little girl must’ve been pretty important, huh? It kind of sounded like the whole family revolved around her. The writer describes how Danika had so much energy, and she was always so perky that she made everyone else feel animated. I guess it would be pretty depressing if the centerpiece of your family was stolen. Towards the end of the letter there are little splotches of water on the page that smudge the ink. I think they’re tears. Poor Anna. Poor Danika. If my younger brother Jake were kidnapped, I’d be pretty stoked.
I think these people were in my family. I know that the girl Anna was my grandmother, but she passed away the last time I was in Russia when I was twelve. That must mean that this Danika person was my great aunt. Wow. My great aunt was kidnapped when she was just a kid. Weird. Maybe that little girl in the pictures I found last time I was here is Danika. I can just imagine that cute little tot running around the house all day with that pale pink tutu on, refusing to take it off. She’s so precious. I can see how she would brighten people’s days. I’m thoroughly creeped out now. Little Danika Nesbit sounds like quite a character.
Florence peeked over at her sister, who was peacefully snoring softly. Sleepily, Florence tucked the diary back under her pillow and turned out her light.
***********************************
The next day, the Thatcher twins decided to ‘people-watch’.
“Oh, Violet, I feel restless! We’ve been cooped up in this house for an entire day! I miss the beaches, and ocean, and the trees!” whined Florence with a wistful expression on her face.
“Florence! Nyarl Nyarl Incy-Fustular can be just as fun and as interesting as a beach or the ocean! Here, let me show you,” exclaimed Violet, and with that she pulled her twin sister over to the window of their room.
Outside of the window it was just another typical and boring day to the fine occupants of Nyarl Nyarl Incy-Fustular. But to Florence and Violet, it was another world – literally.
They had never seen such boredom. Everything was gray. The streets, the buildings, even every piece of clothing on display in store’s windows. The only splashes of colour came from the hair of the aliens. It was either a blazing shade of pink, or a brilliant electric blue. Florence and Violet had always thought a city would be a bustling place to be – never a dull moment. This was certainly not the case with this planet.
The Tibhadens walked far away from each other, as if they preferred not to touch anything. Even a little Tibhaden boy walked a couple feet away from his mother. They walked stiffly; it almost looked like they were marching. All of their expressions remained stoic and unreadable. If you were to guess what any one of the aliens was thinking just by looking at his or her expression you would not have been able to decipher their thoughts. Their faces looked slightly humanoid. Apart from the hair there really was no difference between the two species’ appearances, other than the fact that all the Tibhadens kept a permanent, impassive look of nonchalance plastered on their faces.
Florence and Violet pointed and gawked at the aliens with disbelief. How could any planet be so . . . stupendously dull? Everyone and everything on the planet (or so it seemed to Florence and Violet) pretty much summed up the essence of the word boring.
Florence and Violet pondered for the rest of the day, how could Tibsen and Quadenhaden come from this emotionally desolate, monotonous world?
The Sixth Chapter – (by Laura Roman)
PROPERTY OF REBECKA SMITH
DO NOT TOUCH OR READ
IF YOU READ IT, I WILL KNOW!!!
NOW GO AWAY!
(no, not you 40 year old Becka, you can still read it 🙂)
January 15th
I got this diary for Christmas, but still haven’t used it.
This is weird.
What am I supposed to do now, write my secrets so that Jake can read them??!!
NO WAY!
( Jake, if you are reading this, I swear to you, I’ll hunt you down, and you don’t wanna know the rest!)
I hate having a stupid younger annoying, boring and again annoying brother…( yes, Jake, I DO mean you….)
Ugh..
Okay, now I don’t know what else to write, so I’m just gonna go.. Okay?
Bye, Becka
January 19th
It was Jake’s birthday yesterday… Why, oh why did he even have to be born stupid eight years ago?! The worst eight years of my life.. Maybe if he was a girl it would be better.. Not that he’s far from looking like one..
So, all of his friends were here, and that means that the house was full of screaming children. The only good thing is that there was cake. Not that I was completely covered in it when Adrien (Jake’s lame BFF) started the food fight.
Yeah.
Oh, and well, I saw Christopher when he came to pick up his sister with his parents. Aww, he is just so cute and adorable and I really like him. I mean, he is three years older than me, but so what?!?! He smiled at me, you know.. And I was so happy! 🙂
All of my friends say (including Danielle!) that we are too young for relationships now. Is twelve really that young?! Well, I object to that… I like Christopher, and they’ll see how cool it is to have a boyfriend when the two of us get together…
Oh, I think I’m in love… You know, this diary thing really isn’t that bad. I’m starting to like this 🙂
Beckah
January 21st
Oh that stupid idiot!!
I saw him today, in school, during lunch break, kissing, yes, K-I-S-S-I-N-G that stupid girl from his class… what’s her name? Mona?! What kind of a name is that?!
He’s a jerk. And to think I actually believed we had something special. I mean, he smiled at me!!!!
Why is he sending me mixed signals!! Oh, I’m going to bed… And this diary does suck…
February 2nd
Apparently my grandma died… Or was she my great grandmother?!?
I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve ever seen her in my entire life…
She like, lives in Russia, and now we have to fly there. Great…
See ya in Russia.. -.-
February 4th
So, we’re now in Russia, it is cold (I can actually freeze to death here), and with snow falling from the sky the whole time.
I’m pretty much in the house most of the time. But only it’s not a house, it’s a freaking mansion… I think I’ll pretend I’m sick tomorrow (they are going to visit some relatives
–> BORING! / the last thing I need right now are old ladies pinching my cheeks the whole time… Thanks, but no thanks… I think I’ll pass..) and then explore around the house.
Maybe I’ll find somebody’s diary! Oh yay!
Oh, shoot, mum’s coming – gotta go be sick! 🙂
February 5th
You will not believe all of the awesome things I found today… I found some books in Russian, and some jewelry (pretty!), some photos, and family portraits…
I found a few pictures with this cute little girl, but I have no idea who she might be. She must be dead or something by now… I’ll ask mum tomorrow…
February 6th
Oh, so mum didn’t have an answer to my question, and we’re leaving tomorrow, although I want to stay now and find out who that girl is, I think she looks a bit like me…
So that obviously means that she’s pretty! 🙂
I’m gonna glue the picture here. I gotta go pack now…
Love, Becka ❤
“Is that the girl –” Florence asked looking at the cute baby girl in a tutu in the old picture.
“I think so…” Violet replied. “Wow, this is so interesting!” she added.
“Yeah, I like that love part” Florence said, lying down on the bed.
“What love part? There is no actual love” Violet corrected her sister, as she lied next to her, laughing.
“Oh, well, she is in love with that Christopher boy…” Florence said, looking up at the ceiling. Then she turned back to her sister, her eyes finding Violet’s.
“Don’t you ever wonder what it must feel like, to be in love?” she asked her seriously.
“I don’t know. It’s not like we ever had a chance to fall in love with anyone other than Amadeus,” Violet replied joking.
“Oh, that would certainly be a great relationship, with a goldfish,” Florence said laughing, “One day you would just come home from work, tired, realize that you have no food for dinner, and wouldn’t feel like going to the store, and just eat your boyfriend / fish / friend / husband instead.”
“Um… Girls? They sent me to go get you,” Aaron Wells Thatcher said from a little elevator that took him upstairs, to the room his daughters were joking at the moment.
“What is that you’re wearing?” Florence asked with a grimace.
“Umm… They gave me some kind of a spacesuit…” he replied checking the suit.
“Will we get them too?” Violet asked excitedly.
“I… I don’t know… We really should get going down there. They already declared us rude Earth people for changing Gadenhalden’s home; I don’t want them to think we don’t respect them because of this procrastination in here.”
“Geldunhaden,” Violet replied.
“What?” Thatcher asked.
“That’s his name, Geldunhaden,” Florence tried to teach her father.
“Well, what did I say?!” he replied. “I might be dressed funny, but thankfully I still have some brains, or as Miss Tibsen would say it, I still haven’t lost my sanity. C’mon girls, chop chop. The clock is ticking, and the time is sipping. I have a little hunch that now is the right time for lunch!”
“When did you become so poetical?” Violet asked getting up from the bed and entering the elevator.
“Oh, well… Adventures in outer space can really change a man and help him find some of his hidden talents,” Thatcher joked as the metal door of the elevator closed.
Written by Laura Roman
Click here for The Seventh Chapter
The Nerdfighter Novel 