“What’s a bender?” Quinn asked.
A tiny man materialized directly in front of us. It was Glute! “A bender is what makes me invisible to Ex-Isles,” he said. “At least MOST Ex-Isles! It bends light around me, so what you see is actually what is behind me. The space I’m in becomes a ‘hole’ in the light matrix. Light from all directions goes around me, instead of reflecting off of me.”
“That sounds really high-tech,” Quinn said. “Especially for someone who dresses like they live in a hollow tree.”
We could all tell that Glute was offended. “I will have you know that this outfit is the height of fashion where I come from,” he declared proudly, “and has been for over 200 years. And our technology is far more advanced than your Ex-Isles technology.”
“You keep calling us that,” Quinn observed. “What are Ex-Isles?”
Glute explained. “You are no longer allowed on the Isles. That makes you ex-Isles.”
“Sorry, but what ‘Isles’ are you talking about?” I asked. “We don’t know about any ‘Isles’.”
Glute looked slightly put out, but he tried to explain- “You don’t know about the Seven Isles?”
Quinn, Logan and I looked at each other and slowly shook our heads. “Nooo, what seven isles?”
“Acer, Bardus, Cogito, Dico, Ferus, Humus, Ira... you Ex-Isles never heard of those?”
“No,” we were all trying to think of something familiar.
“I have an Acer monitor at home,” Quinn blurted out.
Glute was holding his hand over his eyes and shaking his head. “I guess our Smarties were right. They don’t teach any kind of Acree history to you Ex-Isles. No doubt to hide your embarrassing past. But no matter- I will teach you. On one condition.”
“What condition?” We all asked at the same time.
“The condition is you collect one tare of wild blueberries for me, right now.”
“What’s a ‘tare’?” I asked.
Glute smacked his forehead with his hand. “Let me put this in a way you will understand, young Ex-Isle girl. Here goes- OMG, dude, go pick me some berries until I ROTFLOL, okay?”
Chapter Five- The Little School on the Prairie
After picking a backpack full of blueberries, we returned to the clearing to find Glute. He had our chairs arranged in a row, facing a huge oak tree on the edge of the woods. He happily accepted the backpack full of berries, and started munching them by the handful.
“I’ll bet that’s how you got your last tummy ache,” I reminded him.
Glute stopped to think for a moment, then continued eating. After a couple more handfuls, he stopped to address our little group.
“How old do you three think I am?” He asked.
We looked at each other, then Quinn guessed. “Around 30 years old.”
“Off by a factor of ten. I am almost 300 years old. I turn 300 next Octo 4. Which, by the way, is still our eighth month of the year, like it’s supposed to be. I guess it’s no wonder you haven’t heard of the Seven Isles, with your rulers changing things all the time.”
“You lost us, Glute. Changing what?” I asked.
“Your calendar, of course. You must know that ‘octo’ means eight, right? Like an octopus. An octopus has eight legs, but you call your tenth month October when you know that ‘octo’ means eight. Very confusing.”
“I guess I never thought about it,” I admitted.
“Exactly my point,” Glute continued. “You Ex-Isles don’t think about things. You had a couple of Roman Emperors who thought so much of themselves that they had months named after them.”
“Julius and Augustus, Right?” Quinn asked. “July and August.”
“Exactly, my roundy-eared friend,” Glute agreed. “July and August. So now your Septem, Octo, Novem, and Decem months are all in the wrong place; even when you know they mean seven, eight, nine and ten. Very confusing indeed.”
“Tell us about the seven isles,” Logan insisted. “Why are we Ex-Isles?”
Glute shoved another handful of berries into his mouth. “Umf umpoon a time,” he began with his mouth full, “the earff was smawwer.” Glute stopped to swallow. “Smaller than it is now. And it had two moons, the one that’s there now, and a smaller one, closer to the earth. The earth was about half land and half water. There was one large land mass, and seven major islands, Acer, Bardus, Cogito, Dico, Ferus, Humus and Ira, plus a lot of little islands, like there are now. Everyone lived on the Isles, and the land mass was wild and unexplored. A remnant from a far-away cosmic explosion happened our way, and barely missed the earth, but split the smaller moon into three pieces. The largest piece went off harmlessly into our sun. The second piece imbedded itself into the face of the moon we see today. That side of the moon now faces the earth all the time, because of this gravitational imbalance. The other piece entered the earth’s atmosphere, and crashed into what is now our southern pole.”
“Antarctica,” Quinn volunteered.
“Basically correct,” Glute agreed, pointing at Quinn. “But the entire face of the earth was thrown into great turmoil. The tectonic plates were forced together and cracked apart violently. There were unprecedented floods and earthquakes, as you can imagine. Most earthquakes today can be traced directly back to those early movements of the earth. The outer liquid core of the earth maintained the planet’s viability, but the mantle underwent drastic changes. When the major shifting was done, there were no recognizable land masses or landmarks left. They were all different. It was almost like someone had shuffled the entire deck of cards that used to be earth. Many lives were lost.”
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
“Way before your recorded history. We basically had to start all over again. Our Smarties were on Cogito, and they preserved what was left of our civilization. You have to realize how desperate a time it was. All but one of the Isles were pushed into the lower levels of the mantle, and much from the lower levels were pushed up onto the surface. The oceans of the planet were wildly moving across the land that was left above. There were violent storms and howling winds that never stopped. When it all settled out, most of us were safely below ground, on one of the now six remaining Isles.
“What happened to the seventh Isle, Glute?” Quinn asked. “You said all but one went below. Which one didn’t make it?”
Glute had stuffed in another mouthful. “Ira,” he said. “Ira waff leff on the surffafe.”
“Ira?” I asked. “We don’t have an Ira that I know of.”
“Ireland,” Quinn said. “I bet it’s Ireland.”
Glute had stuffed in another mouthful, but was pointing at Quinn and nodding his head up and down.
“So why don’t you come back to the surface to live?” asked Logan. “The earthquakes have settled down by now.”
Glute started to laugh, and covered his mouth with his hand, but some blueberries came shooting out anyway. He wiped the juice that was dripping down his chin with his sleeve and answered. “First of all, you Ex-Isles have taken over the entire planet! Plus the sun or the weather or something has made you grow like giants! We couldn’t believe how fast and how tall you Ex-Isles grew. There used to be quite a few of us living on Ira, but that was hundreds of years ago. The brave few who still try to make a go of it on the surface are either in show business or are ridiculed and made fun of because of our size.”
Glute continued: “But the biggest reason the Acree stay below ground is because it’s our home. We love it. The weather is always moderate, and we still get plenty of sun, thanks to our scientists’ use of light control technology. The bender is part of that project. So with plenty of food, and plenty of light, and a beautiful place to live, we are perfectly happy right where we are, thank you very much.”
“Glute,” I asked, “you said you are three hundred years old. How is that possible?”
“Oh yeah,” Glute remembered. “Another reason to stay below ground. You live longer. Most of the Acree people live healthy lives until the
y are eight or nine hundred years old! Much better than the hundred or so you get up here; much better.”
Something still didn’t make sense to me. “Glute,” I asked, “If things are so great down below, why come to the surface at all? Why did we happen to find you two weeks ago with a major stomach ache?”
Watching Glute stuff a few more blueberries into his mouth gave us part of the answer. “Well, besides the berries,” he said, “there was a very important reason why I came to the surface. I was part of an advanced scouting group that monitors problems on the surface, and suggests solutions to our ruling council on Dico.”
“On my last visit, I collected evidence of a threat that could jeopardize our underground existence. After reporting back to the council two weeks ago, I have been authorized to return. On this visit, I am here to recruit Ex-Isles like you to help us. I am hoping that I have already found three helpers. So will you? Will you help save our people?” After shoving another handful of berries into his mouth, he looked up over his glasses, glanced from one of us to the other, and awaited our reply.
Chapter Six- The Threat
Glute had gone from a summertime oddity to a real life-or-death challenge, in less than a minute. The picture he presented wasn’t exactly one of being in distress. Here he was, a three-foot-tall, curly-haired gnome of a man, sitting under a shade tree with blueberries and juice running down his arms and face, waiting for our answer to his life-or-death question.
“What’s the problem, Glute?” I asked. “What do we have to do?”
“There is a plan in the works to deep-drill a new natural gas well near here,” Glute said. “It is going to be located on the other side of the river, but it is planned to go deeper than any other natural gas well, over three miles deep!”
Glute continued: “This will bring them dangerously close to my home Isle of Cogito, which takes up the underground area of most of the State of Michigan. If they do not get the gas production they are hoping for, they will be horizontal drilling and ‘fracking’ the well site.”
“What’s fracking?” Logan asked.
Quinn jumped in to answer, while Glute grabbed some more berries from the backpack. “Fracking is when they pump water and sand into underground wells to break up the underground rocks. It fractures the rocks, so the gas can escape. Sometimes, they even pump chemicals into the mix to make it work better.”
“Very good answer, Quinn. Very good,” Glute said, smacking his lips. “We don’t want them pumping water and sand into what is essentially our ceiling, and the chemicals are certainly not welcome. If they go deep enough, they will break through into our ‘world’, and that would be disastrous! They don’t know we are there, but the water, sand and chemicals would poison our environment and do a lot of damage. We need to stop them from drilling.”
“Of course we’ll help!” Logan volunteered. “Right guys?”
Quinn and I were weighing the options and risks. “How can we possibly help?” I asked. “We’re just kids, you know.”
“Right there,” Glute said, as he sprang to his feet and pointed at us, “is where you are wrong, my three young, roundy-eared friends.” He started marching back and forth in front of us, like a Marine drill sergeant, hands now behind his back. “You three, right now, know more about the Acree and our secret underworld home than 99.9% of all Ex-Isles. You live in close proximity to our number one threat, the Jackson-Boswell Company. You will be equipped with the newest, high-tech equipment on this or any other planet, to accomplish your mission. And there’s one final bonus privilege that will be given to you if you accept my plea for help.”
“Okay,” I said, glancing at Logan and Quinn for approval. “You got us. So what is the final bonus privilege you are talking about?”
“For the first time in over six thousand years,” Glute paused and ran his fingers through his hair for dramatic effect, “You three will be allowed to visit one of the underground Isles. You will no longer be Ex-Isles!”
Chapter Seven- The Surprise
It was way past 6PM when we finally made it back to the house. Mom wasn’t panicking yet, but she was well past not being worried.
“Where in the world have you three been?” She asked, as soon as we were within shouting distance.
“Just playing, mom,” Quinn yelled back, waving as we approached. “Sorry, but we must have lost track of time.”
“I just worry about you getting lost in that big forest, that’s all,” she said, as we entered the house.
“Impossible,” I assured her, as we marched in to help with dinner. “Dad taught us how to find our way home, and we made it, safe and sound.”
After the meal was finished and cleaned up, the three of us met in the basement to talk about what had happened that day.
“Glute must have a plan, don’t you think?” Logan asked. “He wouldn’t send us into a dangerous situation without a plan.”
“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” I said. We were planning on meeting with Glute again the next day.
“With his high-tech equipment, we should be able to do just about anything!” Quinn declared. “I can’t wait to try out one of those benders. I always wondered what it would be like to be invisible.”
I punched Quinn in the shoulder. “Oops, I didn’t see you there, sorry,” I said, smiling.
“What did you do that for?” Quinn asked. Then he realized it was a joke and hit me back.
“You wanted to know what it felt like to be invisible, so I showed you,” I said. “People will be running into you and tripping, I would think.”
“I can’t wait to see what it’s like in his world,” Logan said.
Mom came down into the basement with some cookies, and a big grin on her face. “Hey, kids, I just heard some good news.”
We each gathered around mom and grabbed a cookie or two from the plate she was holding. “What’s the good news, mom?” Quinn asked, with a cookie half way into his mouth.
“Your dad bid for a new big contract, and he got it. He’s starting the job tomorrow,” she announced. “There’s a nationally known company that just moved to town, and they need lots of construction done on their project.”
“Cool, that’s great news,” I said. “What company?”
Mom pulled a sheet of paper from her pocket. “I don’t remember exactly,” she said, as she unfolded it. “Ah, here it is. It’s JBC. The Jackson-Boswell Company. They are drilling a new deep well, just across the river from here.”
I dropped my cookie on the floor.
Chapter Eight- The Journey
No one had to wake me up the next morning. I was anxious for our scheduled visit and training with Glute! I grabbed a quick piece of toast and peanut butter for breakfast and ran out the door. We were supposed to meet Glute in the clearing before 8AM. Quinn and Logan were waiting for me in the clubhouse. Mom and the little ones were still sleeping, and Dad had already left for work at his new job.
“What did you guys think about mom’s big announcement last night?” I asked the boys, as we headed into the woods.
“What about it?” Logan asked.
“If we are going to help Glute and the Acree people,” Quinn observed, “we might be putting dad out of a job.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “But the Jackson-Boswell Company doesn’t know what they are going to be drilling into. We have to stop them, but we can’t tell them why.”
“Glute has a plan,” Logan said confidently. “He’ll know what to do.”
“I sure hope so,” I said. “I hope that his plan for stopping the drill is better than his berry-eating plan.”
We entered the clearing just as the morning dew was lifting off the tall grass.
I love being outside in the morning. There was some trumpet Honeysuckle growing nearby, and you could smell the sweetness of the orange blossoms. One of the flowers had attracted a hummingbird.
“Hey guys, check this out!” I said, as the hummingbird hovered near the bell-shaped opening of the
flower.
“That’s cool,” Quinn added, as he inched closer for a better look.
“Forget the bird,” Logan said. “Check out what’s coming our way.”
We turned to see what looked like a bubble of air moving toward us through the misty morning. The fog swirled back together behind the bubble.
“Good morning, Glute,” I said, as he approached. “You are looking well today.” I said that just to get his attention.
Silence.
“You are looking very nice today, Glute,” I repeated. “Are those new suspenders you are wearing?”
“I know you can’t see me,” A familiar, squeaky voice insisted. “You’re just playing games. I have my bender on, and I had it checked out this morning, before I left the lower levels.”
Super Kids! The Forgotten World Page 2