Hobbity Bobbity: & the Red Bush Forest

By A.S.F

Hobbity Bobbity and the Red Bush Forest is the story of an incredible journey into a cursed forest where no Bobbity ever dared to go. Who is Hobbity Bobbity? Hes a not-so-average teenage boy destined to become larger than life. Traveling between the past and the future, Hobbity meets several characters along the way who help him unlock the secrets of the Red Bush Forest and stop an evil enchantress from stealing all light from every planet in the galaxy.
Packed with fun, laughs, and adventures, Hobbity Bobbity and the Red Bush Forest is sure to be a favorite book for all ages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504902021

A.S.F

A. S. F. was born in Southern California but raised in Long Island, New York. A passionate writer, she began practicing her craft at the age of five, writing poems, songs, and even a few plays, which she proudly performed for her family. Waking up early one cold morning in October 2007, the moon still illuminating the dark sky, she began work on her first book. In 2008, A. S. F. was in an accident that left her with radiculopathy, a disc and nerve condition. As a result, she developed a limp, which inspired a change to her books main character. With his short leg and hobbled walk, Hobbity Bobbity became very dear to her. A. S. F. currently resides in California with her husband of thirteen years, two children, and her two miniature schnauzers. She is at work on her next book, Hobbity Bobbity and the Journey to Rescue Fawn.

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AuthorHouse™

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2015 A.S.F. All rights reserved.

Cover Art by Kevin F.

Illustrated by Kevin F.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/23/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0200-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0201-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0202-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015904558

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

1 In the Beginning

2 Everyone’s a Bobbity

3 Hobbity Bobbity

4 Truth Be Told

5 Mahngia’s Revelation

6 Trust Issues

7 Welcome to Meculaum Galaxy, the Palace!

8 Let’s Take a Swim

9 Introducing Nathaniel Charchino

10 The Journey Ahead

11 Mural of Doom

12 Problem at Orion’s Belt

13 Just When It Seemed Too Easy

For my husband, Kevin, and my children, Devonte and Tkaiah-Marie.

Always follow your dreams.

I love you always.

To My Readers

In time you will see exactly who you want to be.

Do not be limited by those who say you must behave a certain way.

And even when you slightly differ, you can be & do the same as the strongest of the litter.

So do not fret, let go of it.

If we were meant to be the same ... all would be.

~A.S.F

color_356013_11.17.14.jpgIn%20the%20beginning.jpg

Chapter 1

In the Beginning

G hambler Bobbity was the only ethno-economic botanist of his time. It was an excellent field for him, as he was always trying to improve his appearance. He believed that everything about the way he looked, from his rough, pimple-filled face to his sharp, decaying teeth, was beyond embarrassing. Filled with self-loathing, he spent years inventing creams, toothpastes, and even soda pops, all in hopes of changing how he looked. But despite what a great scientist he was, his inventions only seemed to benefit other people. His two most popular products were Ye Hair Will Grow Back and Ye Younger Again. Ghambler just couldn’t get it right.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror in the outhouse, he felt lost in a maze of anger and confusion. He recalled the bullying he received for much of his life. Ghambler took in the sight of himself. Looking back at him was a six-foot-tall, round shaped man. His eyes were strange and mismatched: One was huge and brown, the other small and blue. They were hidden behind the thickest spectacles available.

I look like a monster or some weird creature from the moon! he yelled, throwing his fists in the air. They landed on a wooden cabinet, knocking, combs, brushes, and bottles of creams onto the floor. Picking up one of the brushes, he angrily brushed at his wool-like hair, which stood out madly in all directions. After just a moment, he stopped. His hair looked exactly the same. Frustrated, he turned from the mirror, grabbed his soiled lab coat, and tried to button it up. It would not button, as it barely fit him anymore, and he hastily walked out the door. His horse-drawn carriage awaited him in front of his two-story home, packed and ready as it was every market morning. In it were products for sale, products to trade, and empty crates to pack up what he needed to buy. Everything was piled into the back with no concern for damage.

Once at the Golden Cliff market, Ghambler unloaded his wares. Other patrons watched Ghambler as he did so, as he wasn’t hard to miss. His blubbery belly jiggled up and down, round and round. He piled his products haphazardly because he had long since lost any care for order.

People laughed and snickered.

Here comes that crazy hobo, someone shouted.

It hadn’t taken very long this particular day for the usual torment to begin, but Ghambler carried on, his head slumped. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he was determined not to let a single one fall.

They’re not going to get the better of me! I’ll show them one day. They’ll see! he thought.

It was hours before he sold all of his wares, and all the other merchants had already closed up shop. In the quiet marketplace, Ghambler prepared for his journey home.

He soon arrived home, alone, and as he did every night, he started to talk to himself.

No one’s ever going to talk to me. All they say is, ‘Ghambler, lemme git der hair stuff ‘n’ stuff,’ he mocked.

No! It’s simply not fair. You’re letting these townspeople walk all over you. At this rate, Ghambler, you will never have a family. You can’t put it off any longer. You’re not getting any younger! What can you do? he wondered, scratching his head.

Ghambler paused for a moment. The most brilliant thought popped in his mind. He went down into his lab in the cellar, picked up a piece of chalk, and frantically began writing the key components needed for his experiment. With each stroke of his hand, a new sequence crept into his mind and flew out the end of the chalk. He was so delighted that he stood there in front of his chalkboard and hummed to himself. This will make my frame smaller. If I add some of this, he thought, writing some more, I can maybe even be strong and daring again. He looked around at the many barrels of red bush branches he had collected. His mind was made up: He had to do something to fix his image and his pride! He would even add a little something-something for more wisdom.

Ghambler began working day and night on this idea of his, a magical potion that would make him everything he thought he needed to be to get the attention of a woman or, heck, of anyone! To be somebody’s friend, a real-life friend, he thought. He had never had a friend, and he no longer wanted to be alone. No longer did he travel into the town to sell his wares. His market stand was closed for good. At home, he had closed all of his doors and windows, nailing them shut. No one can come in, and I can’t get out, he said, breathing heavily as he banged the nails in. All he wanted to do was focus on the task at hand: his potion. Minutes ticked by. Hours turned into countless days. Those days turned into many weeks, which in turn became months. Until—at last—it was done!

This is it, Ghambler. You’ve done it now! Just wait till they see what this will do! Hmph, he paused. What does it do? I’ll tell you what it does: It’ll fix everything! You’ll see!

For a moment he just stared at his creation, in awe of what he had just done. He felt hysterical. His eyes spun in their sockets. He had steam coming from his head and ears. He laughed and cried at the same time as he held his invention, a potion in a vile, in his hands and reveled in its glory. Pulling himself together, he put the vile down, ready to get to work. But first he had some business to take care of.

If Ghambler Bobbity had been a mess of a man before, his appearance now would send trembles down a townsperson’s spine! All he had focused on for the better half of the past year was finishing his potion. He forgot completely about everything else, like cleaning himself or his house. His face, hands, and feet were covered in a thick new growth of hair, making him barely recognizable. There were crumbs of food peppered throughout, and his foul smell had brought an undying swarm of houseflies. Greenish-yellow fungi were growing between his toes, in his ears, and even in his belly button. Even Ghambler was not pleased with his nasty new condition. He felt like a dirty dog and decided it was time to clean himself up. It had been months since he bothered to even look at some soap.

His first stop before drinking his potion would be the bathroom, he decided.

After making it up the stairs, he was stopped dead in his tracks. The floor was entirely covered with old food packages, crumpled papers containing wrong equations, bush clippings, and bones he had tossed aside after stripping them clean. There was no way to get to the bathroom, or anywhere else for that matter.

Okay, so I have to clean up a bit … well, maybe a lot, he thought.

After all, if he was to be a new man, his house would have to appear new as well. So he mustered the little strength he had after his hard work in the lab and began cleaning his house.

After five days, Ghambler’s entire three-story home, including his cellar, was clean. It was now clean enough for him to finally clean himself. Ghambler went into his bathroom, turned on the automatic water pump that he had invented, and climbed into his barrel-shaped tub, which had been specially made for a man his size.

Once out of the tub and looking like a half-decent man, Ghambler went to his armoire and pulled from it his best clothes. With great difficulty, he jumped up and down as he squeezed into his huge maroon corduroy pants.

"Won’t be anymore of this!" he huffed. He rolled on the creaking wooden floor of his bedroom, finally defeating the pants. He then threw on a loose, open-front white shirt. Next came his teeth, which he proudly brushed for the first time in years. It didn’t matter that the brushing never changed the color of his teeth or even the smell of his breath, because his potion would