Cosmic Correspondent
Page 7
We are having space rations for tea. I have chosen a tin of snapple-flavoured noodles, but Albert says he’s not hungry. Once we’ve eaten we’re going to sleep, and by the time we wake up, Grizzle should be within sight.
I can’t believe that I’m visiting yet another planet on this trip!
I’ll write again as soon as I can,
Your friend,
Dethbert Jones
CHAPTER 32
Dear Earthling,
Thank you for your letter, which must have arrived while I slept and was a nice surprise when I awoke this morning.
It’s incredible that NASA didn’t believe your email about rescuing me. They really should have offered you relevant advice instead of encouraging you to start writing children’s stories. One day when Crankians develop the technology needed for intergalactic travel, we’ll both pay a call on NASA and make them eat their words!
This morning when we got within Grizzle’s orbit, Major Flob sent out a docking request signal and we were allowed to land close to Albert’s home city.
After landing we were met by a group of beings, who all looked identical to Albert except they had washed and brushed their fur within the past twenty years.
The tallest one greeted Albert with a polite nod and they spoke for a minute or two in a language I didn’t understand.
Albert turned to us and explained this was his mother, and she’d just told him that we could come for a sleepover if we wanted to.
This made me conclude that either:
a) Albert’s mum hadn’t noticed he’d been missing for the last twenty years,
~or~
b) Albert’s mum was as nutty as fluppie poo.
Either way, it didn’t bode well (as Great Aunt Grumbeloid might say), and I felt a little uncomfortable to say the least.
Major Flob obviously felt the same way and told Albert to thank his mother but said she hadn’t packed any clean socks, so it was probably best if we got going.
The look on Albert’s face told me that he wished he also had a lack-of-clean-socks excuse to use, so I pulled him to one side and said he could come with us back to Crank if he’d changed his mind. Albert thanked me but bravely said that he’d decided to face his problems rather than run away from them. I promised that if he ever needed me, I’d find a way to come back and get him. Then he pulled me into a suffocating hug and licked my ear (a sign of affection on Grizzle, apparently).
The Major lifted the mood by promising to visit Grizzle some time in the near future and said that as long as our parents agreed, Andi and I would be more than welcome to accompany her, so at least we’ve got that to look forward to.
We sadly waved goodbye to Albert and Trevor and took off in the Major’s shuttle. She piloted it herself this time, as she said she knew a short cut. But when I told her about my not getting to fly a real shuttle yet, she let me take the controls just like that, without even passing my Shuttle Practice badge!
Andi took a photo of the moment so that I could show my family (and Killian) that I truly am a Space Cadet now.
When we got back to Blarch Space Station we were greeted by the owner of the cinema, who was keen to put another photo of Albert up in the foyer. Andi printed out one of Albert wearing my lucky hat, and it was given pride of place next to the plopcorn machine. We did tell the cinema owner that Albert had moved back to Grizzle, but he kept saying “allegedly” and tapping his nose, so we gave up in the end.
We had glueberry casserole for lunch, then boarded the ABORT MISSION for our return journey to Crank. It doesn’t take as long getting back, apparently—something to do with the space-time continuum, so we should be home in time for tea.
I can’t wait to see everyone, as my adventure has made me appreciate all of my family, even Shriekfest.
Your friend,
Dethbert Jones.
CHAPTER 33
Dear Earthling,
I’m sorry that I haven’t written for a while. To be honest my life has been a bit of a whirl as Andi and I arrived back on Crank to discover that we’d become minor celebrities! Do you have celebrities on Earth? They are people who are in the public eye either because:
a) They have a talent that not that many others possess, like Punchy Smithers, who is famous for singing in such a high frequency voice that nobody can hear it (at least that’s what he says, but I suspect he may just be miming the words).
~or~
b) They have found themselves in an unusual situation that has made others want to know more about them.
Andi and I fall into category b). We got back to Crank to discover that our story was all over the newspapers and the telly box. Reporters were falling over themselves to interview us, and we have been offered vast sums of money for stories about our adventures with Albert. We have, of course, declined these offers, as Albert is a private person and our special friendship with him is something money cannot buy.
Thankfully, Great Aunt Grumbeloid feels the same way about friendship and was okay about me giving my lucky hat away. She said she’d knit me another extra flowery one for being such a good boy and not getting myself killed (her words, not mine). She’s going home later on today, and I must admit I’ll miss her, but on the bright side I’ll no longer have to tolerate bunking in with a 14 legged spider skin; plus it will be quite nice to be back in my own room again. She also very kindly gave me a parting gift—she’s knitted outfits for all of my Grandmothers of the Universe action figures. My favourite one is for Nanny Jo-Jo (superpower: instantly seeing through lies) which is a blue trouser-suit and hat with a matching umbrella that transforms into a grappling hook.
Another good thing that has happened since I came back from Blarch is that Killian gave me a hug! (A real one, not the “I’m going to squeeze you until your eyes pop out” kind). The reason for this is that while I was away she got very worried about Precious, who went off her food and moped about a lot. Initially Killian thought that Precious was just missing me, but she came down to feed her one morning and found a pair of eggs that she was guarding fiercely. The very next day they hatched out into two tiny chickensnail/hedge-podge hybrids!
They are a totally new species (I’m going to call them Spodge Chicks) and are so cute that I can hardly bear it! Anyway, I told Killian she should have one of the babies as soon as it can leave its mother, as the hedge-podge that Killian rescued must be their father, so technically she is part owner of the babies anyway. And that’s when she hugged me.
I had to stop myself from offering her the other baby too, just to get another cuddle.
Plus, there’s even more good news: Killian told me that when Stabwell Phillips found out Andi and I had been hailed heroes for our adventures on Blarch, he angrily punched a wall so hard with his bionic hand that it malfunctioned and could take ages to repair. Apparently it just hangs limply at his side now, which is not nearly as threatening.
So, that’s about all of my news for now, Dear Earthling. The summer holidays are looming. They are a busy time, but I look forward to continuing our cosmic correspondence anyway, if that’s okay with you?
Until then, take care.
Your friend, always,
Dethbert Jones.
UNTIL NEXT TIME...
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my family and friends for their love and support.
Thanks to the Herd at Common Deer Press—particularly my editor Ellie and publisher Kirsten who breathed life into this book.
And finally, thank YOU, Dear Earthling, for inspiring me to write fantastical, fun-filled whimsy in the first place!
About
Pen Avey lives in Norfolk, UK, with her family and pets.
If you have a question or comment for Dethbert or Andi, you can either email them at:
Dethbert-Jones@outlook.com
Or you c
an visit Crank.
Failing an actual visit, you can go to:
www.dear-earthling.com
Then get your intergalactic space ship repaired so you’re better prepared for next time.
As long as the cosmic dust storms aren’t too strong, your message may just get through!