by Paul Vayro
Chapter Thirty Five
“That one sounded particularly gruesome, and a tad upset.” Coincidence interpreted the cacklejack’s cry. They and Zarg stood with him at the front window of the house they were hiding in. Brick and Spiritwind had assumed food foraging duties in the kitchen.
“I feel a little sorry for it. It sounds in terrible pain.” Zarg gave They a most severe look of disapproval for offering empathy to a cacklejack.
Another cry filled the air.
“It sounds quite close too.” Coincidence barely finished his sentence before an enormous blur of movement flew down the street. “And now it’s moving further away again.”
“It had no wings.” Zarg froze to the spot as he announced his observation.
“How can you be sure?” They turned inquisitor.
“I’ve seen enough of them to know, that one had no wings. Plus if you wanted to get somewhere that quickly wouldn’t you fly?” It was difficult to find fault.
“Why wouldn’t it have wings?” Coincidence queried with purpose.
“I have no idea. They always have wings. Unless?” Zarg paused to both draw a question and eek as much drama from the moment as possible. They and Coincidence weren’t joining in and stood in silence. Zarg relented. “The initial cry we heard was the sound of it losing its wings?”
Both concepts looked at each other before saying the same thing: “Karma.”
“How could that delightful girl do such a thing?” Zarg didn’t believe it. Her mood swings had curried favour with the teenager, forming the beginnings of a crush. His dotage was sealed when she threatened Brick on his behalf.
“I don’t even want to think how. I’ll go and tell Brick and Spiritwind.”
Coincidence took the short journey to the kitchen. He found Brick on the floor next to the oven, waving his gloved hand repeatedly at the lino. Spiritwind stood above, turning the dial from on to off. “We’ve got news.” Coincidence began the message.
“Good or bad?” Spiritwind answered as Brick continued to wave.
“We’re not sure.”
“Well we’ve got certified bad news.” Brick glanced up to speak. “The only gas we can use is the stuff left in the pipe and in range of the glove. And we’ve used it all up finding that out.”
“Oh. The cacklejack lost its wings.” Coincidence got straight to the point.
“Surely that’s good news. It’s not half as scary if it can’t fly.” Brick tried to surprise the floor by thrusting his hand at it and pushing down hard.
“It’s still a thirty foot spider. That we think may now be very angry.”
“What’s it angry about?” Spiritwind ceased turning the dial. It was clearly a waste of everyone’s frozen time.
“It’s lost its wings, and we have a sneaking suspicion Karma may be responsible.” Coincidence rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. “Any ideas?”
“There’s only one thing I can think of, and I know people aren’t going to like it, but we’ll just have to eat cold sandwiches.” Brick had been defeated by basic physics.
“Anything on the cacklejack?” They and Zarg appeared in the doorway. There was only so long watching aliens flee was entertaining if you didn’t have an infra red gun and a high score to beat.
“We’ll deal with all that cacklejack stuff after a hearty meal.” Brick hopped to his feet. They and Coincidence nodded agreement. Zarg would have been happy with any suggestion that didn’t involve going outside.
The kitchen became a hive of activity as Brick and Spiritwind took orders and sought the corresponding ingredients. They and Coincidence sorted the table and the general ambience while Zarg wandered around their hideout. The alien felt genuine excitement at having a whole house to explore without any authority figures or limits.
Heading straight upstairs only one door was open, his inability to move objects without his gloves left the choice an easy one. Entering, the double bed gave away the room’s purpose. The peach duvet that adorned it continued the colour scheme of the hallway. Fitted wardrobes covered one side of the room, a delicate yellow ribbing offering a hint of summers past. The wallpaper complimented the furniture, offering fleeting shades of pink; birds and flowers scribed gently within the pattern. A large dressing table held an equally impressive mirror, reflected in its surface was the owner, who sat combing her hair. Zarg stared in disbelief at the number of tiny bottles littering the table in loosely organised groups. Reading a number of them revealed their purpose, either application or removal. Zarg could only think wearing nothing would eradicate the need for either. Reaching out a finger to poke the hairbrush, it quickly retracted as his name was called from below.
“ZARG. GRUBS UP.” Brick didn’t possess the mother gene and intended to only call once. He returned to the kitchen. Zarg took a lasting look at the room before heading downstairs. He was ready to eat.
Zarg entered a scene of semi domestic bliss. Brick and Spiritwind sat on one side of the table, They and Coincidence on the other. The gloves were in the middle to allow the food and cutlery to remain in motion. A seat had been left at the head for Zarg. He waddled to his place as Spiritwind polished off his third sandwich.
“How thoughtful.” Zarg sounded sarcastic without effort. It had almost become his accent. He hadn’t meant it and wished to apologise, but his teenage mind wouldn’t hear of it. “That really is an apple sandwich.” Zarg stared at his snack, maintaining eye contact with the food as he clambered onto his chair. An apple sat resolutely between two slices of bread. A small hole allowed the stalk to poke through.
“You asked for a plain apple sandwich, nothing done to it.” Brick saw the concern on Zarg’s face.
“I did, didn’t I.”
“I’ll have it if you don’t want it.” Spiritwind continued eating whilst holding the apple sandwich in the corner of his eye.
“Oh I want it. I just didn’t expect it to be so literal.” The table fell silent as everyone enjoyed their meal break. Spiritwind inevitably finished first. Grabbing a glove he returned to the cupboards for a refill.
“Anybody want anything?” The four shook their heads, which worked out nicely for They who had been struggling with a tough piece of beef. Returning to his seat, with a pack of biscuits, Spiritwind posed a question. “What time is it? It still feels really early but we’ve been at this for hours.”
“We’re still very early in the darnum.” Zarg studied his butty for the best angle of approach. He didn’t wish to chase his filling round the room.
“Darnum? What’s a darnum?” Brick had to ask.
“What’s a darnum? A darnum is sixty eight harlens.” Zarg sensed a good opportunity for annoyance. He considered it payback for the apple sandwich.
“So what’s a harlen?” Brick played in to the green one's hands.
“A hundred and four nolars.” Zarg hid his smirk with his snack.
“What’s a nolar?” Brick continued oblivious. The other members of the team wondered how long it would take for him to realise.
“Sixteen hundred and twelve clintocks.”
Brick chewed a mouthful of food before preparing to continue. Spiritwind couldn’t watch any longer and jumped in. “How long is a darnum in Earth time?” Brick nodded and pointed as he realised how the question should have been phrased first time round.
“About two weeks.” Zarg found the angle to bite and dove in. It proved successful.
“It’s going to be a long day then.” Spiritwind polished off some dried meat he’d found to accompany his biscuits.
“And an even longer night.” Zarg pointed out the truth as a piece of apple escaped from his mouth.
“That’s why you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” Brick played mother.
“It isn’t full. There’s loads of room left.”
“Won’t it be a little inconvenient if we have to sleep every eighteen hours or so?” Spiritwind applied logic to the news.
“You won’t need to.” Zarg found his next bi
ting angle. He turned the butty accordingly.
“You can’t deny me sleep. I get terribly cranky.” Brick wished he’d brought a note from his mum.
“You won’t be denied it. Your body will adjust to our time.” Zarg smirked to himself before laughing to everyone. “You may even get to experience a toilet darnum.”
“Toilet darnum?” Brick started back on the road of questions.
“We Jefferian’s only visit the toilet once a sprannet….”
“What’s a sprannet?” Brick hadn’t learnt.
“About eighteen darnums.”
“I can’t wait that long.” Brick hadn’t done the mental arithmetic but it sounded long enough to become painful.
“Do you know how much I’ll have eaten in a sprannet’s time?” Spiritwind continued to eat anyway. They and Coincidence glanced at each other. The concepts were confident they would remain unaffected. A hint of worry hung around just in case.
“Don’t worry. You get the full darnum to do it.” Zarg couldn’t eat through his grin and placed his sandwich down.
“I can’t spend two weeks on the toilet. I don’t own enough books.” Brick saw an instant flaw.
“What if we have to go at the same time? I can’t wait for him to finish.” Spiritwind stuck to practicalities.
“It’s very enjoyable back home. You get a room to yourself filled with all manner of entertainment and a cushioned toilet. Just be pleased you’re not back in the dark days when all you had was a puzzle book and a fly swat.”
“At least we have a deadline then.” Spiritwind searched for the positive.
“I’m sure I can feel me bowels moving.” Brick panicked instantly.
“If we’re all finished shall we move to the living room and begin work on the next stage of the plan.” Spiritwind could see the room’s passion for food had waned.
“If I can make it.” Brick continued with his concerns.
“I’m sure you will.” Team A stood and headed towards the comfier seating of the living room, all except Coincidence who began tidying around. Zarg carried his sandwich as everyone else felt enough was enough for the minute. Even Spiritwind only brought three bread rolls instead of his intended eight.
“Hold on. I think it was just wind.” Brick eased everyone’s minds as the adventure trundled on, hopefully to a swift resolution.
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