Hieronymus Jones and the Teacup Squid: Hieronymus Jones, #1

By Michael Palmer-Cryle

What does one do when a small cephalopod decides to make a nest in your cup of tea?

Hieronymus Jones is a peculiar boy with a spectacular mind. Extraordinarily intelligent, he has secrets, dark and deadly, wonderful and pure. Secrets of hidden worlds and lost civilizations, ones that were not entirely human. Secrets of magic.

When Hieronymus sees Gertrude Green for the first time, something tells him that she has secrets too. Together, they discover a connection, one that extends far deeper than either could have imagined. A connection that just might save the world.

Tea-dwelling squids, mysterious pendants, and school bullies are one thing. However, when an army of maliciously malformed unpleasantness threatens to tear the two young friends apart, it's clear the universe is against Hieronymus and Gertrude simply hiding away in the belltower to share their lunch in peace. Will they overcome all the obstacles in their way?

The first book in an urban fantasy romance series, awash with bleeding-edge technology, magic, humor, and hideous tentacle-laden, Lovecraftian nightmares. Start reading now to enter Hiero and Gerty's world today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sleepy Goblin Press
• Release date: Jul 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9780648422440

Michael Palmer-Cryle

Michael Palmer-Cryle began writing at an early age and his first illustrated children's book, "the Punk Puss" was published in the pages of his hometown newspaper when he was ten years of age. it was dreadful and embarrasses him deeply to this day, you will never be allowed to see it... ever. with the mortification of that event behind him, he now focuses on young adult fantasy fiction, as well as illustrated children's books. His debut novel 'Hieronymus Jones and the teacup squid' is available now and book two will be released soon. Michael is an independent (indie) author, publishing under the imprint of Sleepy Goblin Press. Michael lives in Brisbane, Australia with his partner and two cats

Book preview

Chapter One.

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It possessed the kind of nauseating stench that made your nostrils throw up into their own mouths. A retch-inducing odor produced by a place that the boy simply could not understand, why anybody enjoyed, let alone sought out… The ocean. He gazed out of the second-story window at that shimmering blue mess of water and wondered to himself, why in the name of all that’s holy would anyone willingly set foot into that quagmire of seafoam and fish farts? Hieronymus Jones hated the ocean.

Hate was not the word, wasn’t strong enough, loathe perhaps? Yes, he loathed the ocean, and the fact that he lived on an island completely surrounded by the stuff, irked him to no small degree. The island itself was considered by most to be quite a beautiful place. The beaches were a cheerful pale yellow and made of sand as opposed to those small rocks that pretend they are a beach, but actually, slice the soles of your feet to ribbons. The island was mid-sized, large enough that you couldn’t walk all the way around it without packing a picnic lunch, a torch, and a change of clothes, yet small enough that its population was only a few thousand strong. Densely forested in the center with a natural freshwater spring that fed a small sluggish river of crystalline water, that snaked through the center of town. This was most people’s idea of heaven, most people but not Hieronymus Jones.

It was not simply the ocean that caused him to narrow his eyes in disgust but the island itself. Not because of the forest or river or the little town with roughly hewn cobblestone streets, that the city council chose not to turn into something more presentable, no, he hated the island for what it had taken from him and for the secrets it refused to reveal. However, the boy had secrets of his own.

Hieronymus was a strange boy, a hair past fifteen, tall and pale with jet black hair, dark brown eyes, and a very peculiar kind of mind.

Hieronymus Jones! His name had not been said but screeched and at high volume.

Yes, Ms. Cooper? Hieronymus replied apathetically, yet sweetly enough so as not to earn further disapproval from his aging teacher.

Pay attention. She narrowed her eyes causing the thin skin around them to contort into a flurry of crow’s feet and other assorted wrinkles. Her thin lips pursed to such a degree that Hieronymus feared that if she were to purse any harder, her lips would dislodge from her face. The small classroom laughed mockingly at the expense of Hieronymus Jones, the cackle was joined by the occasional utterance of ‘loser’, nothing new there. Certainly, nothing for him to concern himself with. Hieronymus was very often the target of unpleasant behavior, he had learned to not care, or more correctly, learned not to show that he did.

Ms. Cooper continued taking attendance as she had been doing when she caught Hieronymus deep in, ocean-hating, thought, one by one she read off the names of her class’s students, it was not a long process. The class was comprised of seventeen students, a fairly large class for a community of this size, and it was about to grow ever so slightly larger.

The knock on the classroom door was sharp and slightly annoyed, the knocker did not wait for an invitation but simply entered, this was, after all, his school. Principal Abernathy loomed in the doorway, a tower of a man, he had to dip his head slightly to avoid hitting the door’s frame as he entered.

Ms. Cooper, you look well. Principal Abernathy half-heartedly spoke in a monotone voice. Ms. Cooper simply made a guttural grunt in response, she was well aware that she did not look well, she looked like she was pushing ninety and was sick to the back teeth of this island and all its fricken students, she did however manage a strained smile. Principal Abernathy handed Ms. Cooper a few sheets of loose paper, his dour and slightly disturbing expression had not changed since he entered the room and would not change after he left it, possibly not ever.

New student, transfer. Principal Abernathy knew the grumbling that would come from Ms. Cooper and as he had no interest in any such grumblings he beat a hasty retreat. As he dipped his head and glided back out the door he simply said, Go in now, in a disinterested kind of way.

A small face poked sheepishly around the edge of the door and Hieronymus, who had been completely unconcerned with these goings-on, saw her for the first time and sat up a little straighter in his seat.

It was extremely unusual for a student to transfer to a school this late in the year, it was even more unusual for a student to transfer here… ever. Hieronymus Jones had never heard of a student transfer to the island before, there was no mention of any transfers since the building of the school one hundred and thirty-seven years ago. Hieronymus had read every record and remembered every word. This was indeed an unusual event but not as unusual as her.

Well? Come in dear. Ms. Cooper spoke in a softer tone than she usually did, almost welcoming. The new girl entered the room and stood to the side and slightly behind Ms. Cooper, she seemed to be studying her own feet intensely, either they were extraordinarily interesting feet or the new girl was terrified.

Class, we have a new student, everybody say hello to… what was your name dear? Ms. Cooper fumbled through the sheets of paper she had been given moments ago, it was all for show, she wasn’t wearing her glasses and was blind as a bat without them. She was simply waiting for the new girl to pipe up and introduce herself, which was taking an annoyingly long time, Ms. Cooper thought to herself.

Green, Gertrude Green, the new girl squeaked.

Like Bond, James Bond. The comment was met with far too much laughter for a very ordinary joke, but this reaction was normal when the jokes were made by Lucas Ballantyne. Tall, blonde, blue eyes. Hieronymus Jones hated Lucas Ballantyne, not as much as the ocean certainly, but still more than was average.

Settle down, Ms. Cooper hissed, Lucas Ballantyne curled his lip but remained silent.

Continue, Gertrude was it? Ms. Cooper was fast losing interest.

Yes ma’am umm, just Gerty, the new girl, squeaked again.

You can take a seat, Gertrude. Ms. Cooper scanned the room with failing eyes. There at the back next to Krystelle. When Ms. Cooper said that, she wasn’t intending to incur the wrath of the impossibly spoiled Krystelle, yet wrath was coming her way nonetheless.

Eck, I don’t think so, Krystelle spoke in an accent that was not real and fooled nobody. Hieronymus assumed the girl had fashioned this accent after watching too much television, it was the sort of accent that used the word ‘like’ as punctuation. Tall, blonde, blue eyes. Hieronymus hated Krystelle not as much as Lucas or the ocean certainly, but still more than was average.

Like, she looks like she was dressed by an eight-year-old, like twenty years ago. I like, don’t want her sitting near me. Krystelle’s use of like only three times, in ways other than its intended use, had to be some kind of record for her. Hieronymus looked at Gertrude, she was mortified, as one would expect, her first day and this was her welcome? Unacceptable.

There is a spare desk beside me, Ms. Cooper, perhaps that would be a better fit? Hieronymus stated in a matter-of-fact kind of way. Ms. Cooper nodded her approval and Gertrude walked over to the spare desk away from that horrible girl and toward this very… odd boy.

As the new girl, Gertrude, approached what was to be her new desk, she was scrutinized by every resident of the classroom. She wore high-top sneakers with different colored laces on each, light blue faded overall shorts, that ended halfway down her thigh, and had a pocket on the front at her chest. She also sported a very old and worn T-shirt that was many sizes too big for her. Hieronymus hated to admit it, but she did indeed dress oddly, however, there was something charming about the style, beguiling. Gertrude was taller than most of the girls in her new class but still a head shorter than Hieronymus, she was as pale as he was, but where his skin had an almost ashen tone, hers was like milk, pale but vibrant. There were a smattering of freckles on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, her eyes were hard to make out as they were mostly covered by thick, wavy, and impossibly red hair. That hair was long and was wild, not messy, just untamed. As Gertrude took her seat she looked at Hieronymus and for the first time, he saw her eyes, absurdly green, flecked with amber and fighting to hold back tears.

Thank you. Gertrude barely whispered the words.

I abhor a bully, Hieronymus stated as if his actions were no more important than placing a lunch order, but those actions, the simple act of offering this girl a place to sit, would irrevocably alter both of their lives, for as long as they lived them.

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It slept deeply, it had not moved in centuries, a churning mass of twisted flesh. Large chunks of floating ice drifted around the creature, like satellites, as it slumbered. No light made it this far down, it slept undisturbed, surrounded by the black and the cold, it not only slept, it waited, for something far away and high above.

Chapter Two.

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Classes began with, the eye-roll-inducing, math. The class was long, tedious, and mostly silent, for which Gertrude was supremely thankful. Ms. Cooper had apparently grown bored of being indoors because she had decided, that for the next hour or so before lunch, they would hold the class outside. This caused no small amount of commotion amongst the students. Any chance to escape the classroom with its peeling paint and faint, yet depressingly present, smell of mildew was always well received. The class began the descent from the upper floor, down to the school’s small but neatly appointed garden. Along the way, Lucas Ballantyne, who strutted as if he owned the place, made a point of making a small ‘pfft’ sound whenever he passed something that did not meet his approval, this included most things. Trailing closely behind Lucas were his two underlings, whose names would seldom matter to anyone who met them, and behind them, Krystelle, Cherelle, and Narelle. Hieronymus walked at the back of the class and calculated the odds of three such loathsome young women, all having mothers that thought names ending in ‘elle’ was a good idea. As he pondered, he watched Gertrude, and he watched as the ‘Elles’ approached her.

Hi, Gertrude. Krystelle purred through a crocodile smile.

H-hello. Gertrude did her very best impression of a confident smile but came off looking like prey to these three jackals.

So, like, who do you think will win? Krystelle began.

Win? Gertrude’s confusion was clear and the ‘Elles’ loved it

Out of Matt and Brian… like on ‘Quest for a Date,’ like seriously. A perfectly sensible thing to have said in Krystelle’s tiny mind, but to Gertrude, this was a very small step above gibberish.

I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve met them… I don’t really know what you mean. Gertrude stated almost apologetically.

Are you being serious right now? Krystelle stared at Gertrude with her mouth open, exaggerating her surprise and disbelief for comic effect.

Matt and Brian are contestants on the TV show ‘Quest for a Date’, don’t you, like, live in the world? Or, like, even watch TV?

Hieronymus noted that television must make up perhaps eighty to ninety percent of Krystelle’s daily life and felt mildly sorry for her and at the same time grateful that her television was keeping her away from the rest of the populace, as much as it was.

Sorry, I’m not allowed to watch television, I lead, a kind of sheltered life. Gertrude ended her sentence with what she thought would be a small joke that would lighten an increasingly tense situation, unfortunately, it did not.

Are you being entirely serious right now? Krystelle spoke slowly, emphasizing every word.

Is that weird? Gertrude was genuinely curious but afraid of the answer.

"No that’s not weird, YOU are weird, THAT is flat-out bizarre. Why don’t you watch TV? Krystelle could scarcely wrap her mind around such an alien concept. The other ‘Elles’ standing behind Krystelle, clearly shared her opinion, as they each had their lips curled and mouths open, making a similar sound to air, very slowly being let out of a balloon.

My parents are strict… sorry. Gertrude instinctually drew her hand to her upper arm, this gesture went unnoticed by the majority of the class, but not by Hieronymus. It was the second time she had made this gesture, the first was during her introduction, Hieronymus felt something tighten in his stomach.

What did you even talk about with your friends at your last school? Your massive lack of fashion sense and love of ugly old overalls? Krystelle puffed up with pride as her cruelty earned the laughter of those behind her, first the ‘Elles’ then the rest of the class, Lucas even chimed in with a Nice, a rare compliment indeed.

I have never had any friends, I was homeschooled. Hieronymus knew as soon as those words left Gertrude’s mouth, any hopes she may have had for an enjoyable future at this school, were well and truly, over. At first, silence, deadly and toxic, and then the class laughed, long and hard. With every guffaw, Gertrude seemed to shrink a little more. Hieronymus just stared at the frightened new girl, she was so embarrassed but did not fully understand why. What she had said, it did not occur to her not to say it, it was the truth and that was all there was to it. Hieronymus found this level of honesty to be, again, beguiling. He could see that the class was seconds from beginning a feeding frenzy of teasing, he lifted his head and stepped forward.

Alright, settle down. Ms. Cooper put an end to the situation before Hieronymus could do or say anything. He was certain this was for the best, Hieronymus was not known for being good at social interactions. It was fair to say that he was off-putting and a know-it-all, at best. He never saw the need to hide these ‘flaws’ about himself, he simply didn’t see the point. However, he was grateful he wasn’t given the chance to make a bad situation worse.

Who can tell me the CORRECT name of this plant? Ms. Cooper was a gardener to a truly psychotic degree and may the gods have mercy on anyone who answered a gardening question incorrectly in her presence. This question had nothing to do with school, no upcoming exam would feature this question, this was simply an old woman enjoying herself more than she would teaching from a textbook, Hieronymus raised his hand.

Mr. Jones, will you surprise us all and answer incorrectly for a change? The old teacher asked light-heartedly. The chances of Hieronymus Jones not knowing the answer to… well, anything, was very small indeed.

Not today Ms. Cooper, he said with a genuine smile. He looked at the plant Ms. Cooper pointed at, it had broad leaves and bright magenta flowers, thick and soft, that came together in a yellow center.

Common Zinnia, or more correctly Zinnia Elegans from the family Asteraceae. Hieronymus had answered perfectly and once again confirmed that he was an off-putting know-it-all, which didn’t annoy the class as much as the fact that Hieronymus Jones didn’t care, that they thought of him that way.

Very good, and what about this little one? Ms. Cooper pointed to a smaller plant with stalks of vivid and delicate purple flowers, she was smiling warmly.

Somebody different I think, how about you Gertrude? Ms. Cooper hadn’t meant to put the spotlight back on the poor girl, her name was simply at the front of her mind and she spoke without thinking. Ms. Cooper wished desperately that she could take back Gertrude’s name and say anybody else’s, the child had been through so much already and the day wasn’t even half done.

Blue Sage, I mean Salvia Farinacea from the family Lamiaceae, Ms. Cooper.

Another perfect answer, this time from the new girl with the wild red hair and freckles. Ms. Cooper thought to herself, Please don’t let there be two of them. Gertrude had presented her answer in the same format as Hieronymus had, mirroring him. Hieronymus studied her, was she mocking him? Trying to score points off him to mitigate her earlier embarrassment? Hieronymus certainly would not have minded if she were, in fact, he greatly hoped that was the case. Gertrude was not mocking anybody, she simply gave the correct answer in a way she had assumed the teacher wanted the answer given, nothing more. Hieronymus could tell a person’s intentions by the evidence that leaked from their expressions. The way your eyes dart up and to the left or the slight reddening of your nose as you spoke, could tell him more than you ever could with words. Hieronymus caught himself staring at Gertrude, he told himself he was just reading her intentions, but the truth