Winfred Cowell, Smedaphites, and the Aliens

By Lee Ching Kai and Joel Pellerin

The Dark Lord has landed his intergalactic ship deep in the heart of the Sahara desert in preparation for his Skeleroff invasion of the unsuspecting and unprepared planet Earth. His ship carries the weapons and personnel he’ll need for the invasion—and a cargo of alien prisoners who escape in an ejection capsule during the landing.

Landing in the mountains only two kilometres from Powell Street, it’s no wonder the escaped aliens found their way to eighteen-year-old Winfred Cowell’s home—though too late. By the time Margaret Parof, one of the alien escapees, reaches Winfred, the boy has already been found. With Margaret’s help, Winfred barely escapes with his life, but not before taking the Mocrax, the Skelleroff’s most prized treasure.

Now, with all the power of the Dark Lord in pursuit, there’s no place on Earth to hide. Margaret must take Winfred to Portable Accommodation, her home. There Winfred must learn the extraordinary techniques he will need in order to defeat the Dark Lord. The fate of the world depends on it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Release date: Aug 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781482894158

Lee Ching Kai

Lee Ching Kai is a graduate of Universiti Tunku Abdul Rahman (UTAR). Besides having a Bachelor Degree of Commerce (Hons) Accounting, he has completed the Association of Chartered Certified Accountants (ACCA) examinations. He is an author of 7 books. He has won multiple international book awards and writing competitions. He has won the Bronze Award in WOW Kampar's MENTION 2019 Best Feature Writing Award (Malaysia) and a Bronze Medal in Florida Authors & Publishers Association (FAPA) President's Book Awards 2020, one of the largest and most prestigious international book awards contests based in the United States. Also a winner in Eyelands International Book Award's Three Rock Residency Program 2020 (Greece), he has been selected as the finalist in Eyelands Book Awards (EBA) 2020 (Greece). While having been longlisted in 2019 Bumblebee Flash Fiction Prize (Canada), he was shortlisted in Strands International Flash Fiction Competition 2020 (India) and longlisted in Strands International Flash Fiction Competition 2021 (India). He also won an Honorable Mention in Purple Dragonfly Book Awards 2022 (USA). While he has been featured in The Star newspaper, he was also featured in Guang Ming Daily newspaper due to his accomplishments in the global awards contests. He has also been featured 3 times in Universiti Tunku Abdul Rahman (UTAR) online news.

Book preview

-CHAPTER ONE-

Skeleroff and Margaret

38471.png he fiery 3-o’clock sun was shining faintly across the slightly overcast sky. At the same time, silence rippled over the moderate-sized, two-storey terrace houses along the Powell Street and was quickly shattered by the harsh rumble of an engine and the crunch of gravel when a car rolled along the asphalt. Slow wind swayed the leaves with monotonous regularity, as warm as a fluffy blanket, giving mellow rustles that welcomed the birds to perch on the branches. Lying on his back idly on a chaise lounge in the yard of one house was a bespectacled boy, still clad in his school uniform, his hand clutching a gem with a book, 400-page thick, clearly emblazoned with the title The Encyclopedia of Earth Resources sitting on his lap, his eyes skimming the words deliberately like an avid investigator conducting a comprehensive survey.

Sometimes, he allowed himself to lower the encyclopedia, eyes sagging tiredly, breathed out a deep sigh to restore himself to better concentration, and burrowed his mind back again into the content of the book.

Frankly, the book was mortally boring, but for an 18-year-old boy who was now sweeping his forefinger briskly line after line down the page, he would rather use the word ‘informative’ than a negative and disheartening ‘boring’.

The boy was slightly tanned and wasp thin, with short dark hair that was meticulously parted and slicked down, and a Roman nose that he inherited from his father. What’s more, he had a pair of blue eyes and dimples on his cheeks that he did not quite fancy.

The boy was me, a St. Michael High School student—Winfred Cowell.

‘Whose gem is this? This is immensely bizarre!’ I muttered to myself, scrutinizing the gem the size of a tennis ball but octagonal in shape, then turned it around slowly to look for some sort of sign or characteristic that could solve the puzzle in my head. ‘It’s not even in the encyclopedia!’

After a minute or so, there was a crunch of gravel outside which cut off my train of thought, followed by the sound of a car door being swung open—a black luxurious Honda had pulled up in front of my house and soon discharged a tall, imposing figure. Shoving the glasses up my nose bridge, I let my gaze climbed the height of the car which attested to the wealth of the owner, and quickly a twinge of envy loomed inside my heart.

‘Oh god, what an expensive car!’ I thought, the sense of utter jealousy swelled in my heart.

After taking off his sunglasses and stuffed it roughly into his shirt pocket, the man slammed the door shut and headed for the wrought iron gate at which a red plate that said number 5 was firmly attached.

Good evening, he greeted warmly, holding a file, and frowning at the heat of the sun. Is Mr. Louis Cowell in?

No. He’s my father, he’s still at work, I said, shoving the gem promptly into my pocket and came up to him. Anything, sir?

Ya… ya, nice to meet you, he smiled, screwing up his face at the same time. Immediately, I got the message—I was not smelling good. But ‘not smelling good’ was just a mild description, as ‘stinking to high heaven’ was the one loads suitable but offensive than the former. I’m Mr. Blue, a friend of him. Can you please pass the file to him?

Um… I hesitated for a while, then came up with, alright, not a problem.

Thanks, he said happily, trying with all his might not to inhale, then lowered his voice just a notch and whispered at my ear. Why don’t you have a bath after school?

‘It doesn’t concern you and you’d be wise to get out of my sight before I stave your face in!’ I thought scoldingly. In front of him, I managed to squeeze out an awkward smile, pretending to be matter-of-fact which was half the battle, but inwardly, I was seething with anger. Anyway, what he said was undeniable—I was just after my basketball game from school and I had not had my bath yet for at least an hour! If there was anybody strolling shoulder to shoulder with me right at the moment, I bet my bottom dollar he would say something strikingly similar to that.

I put my hand to my head and realized that my hair was still sweat-drenched, though my pulse had long returned to something approximately normal.

I thrust the file against my chest, took the encyclopedia and scuffed my feet straight into the living room, drained and exhausted. There was no one else in the house except me: My father, an interior decorator, was still at work in his office and would come back after five, my mom was teaching in the afternoon session, and my younger brother, Aaron, was in his friend’s house suffocating under his mountainous pile of homework. As for my elder brother, Pearce, was outside as well, but I did not get to know his whereabouts as he had strongly refused to tell me.

I got upstairs and swung the door open. Damn! The weather was so hot I was sweating more like a pig! The room was too warm for my brain to function at its optimum rate, and I despised the headachy feeling which made me feel more uncomfortable. Chucking my bag impatiently to one corner, I put the encyclopedia on my desk, sank on the chair and took the gem out once again. ‘Octagonal—smooth—translucent—’ I thought, rubbing the gem. ‘Is it a gem in fact? Uh . . . not that I know of!

I turned the gem around and studied it carefully, my jaw set in a deep, concentrated line. It was a translucent stone which was a lovely violet, with countless brownish-red mini dots revolving uniformly inside it like magic, and a small golden figure in the middle rotating on its own axis—it was odd, deliberate and in the shape of a fire.

‘What kind of shit are you? Can I sell you?’ I thought, and immediately an unrealistic idea flashed through my mind, ‘Can I become rich after selling it since it’s so rare? Perhaps I should have a whack at it!’

I felt pleased at the prospect of getting rich, if it really worked. So I smiled to myself like a perverted idiot.

Prompted by the wave of immense heat, I closed the curtains and switched the fan up two notches. Then, I sank into the chair again, half awake, the images of losing the basketball game still waving in my mind, and began to fall asleep.

All of a sudden, some sort of thuds in the bathroom jolted me wide awake. Swiftly, I swiveled around in my chair and stayed for a while, listening with every fibre of my beings. ‘No fear, it’s just a shampoo,’ I laughed at myself.

It was a truth that I was fond of watching horror movies, and sometimes I’d hang out with my friends in cinema to watch such shows, but what I felt at this moment was a bit too far, so I comforted myself, ‘This kind of thing was not going to scare me out of my wits.’

But—

The tap of the sink vibrated fiercely. I listened more carefully. It was quick and vigorous, then it stopped. ‘Hey c’mon, don’t scare yourself, it’s just a disturbance under the sink, okay!’ I reassured myself. ‘Yes of course. Perhaps I’m too tired and need a bath, ain’t I?’

So, I ransacked my wardrobe for something to wear, then took out the clothes, hung them on the bathroom rail and stripped off myself before I jumped into the tub for a shower. You know, there was nothing else like a long warm bath after a real hard day in school!

Huh—nice and refreshing, I hissed to myself. Soaking my body in the tub, I rubbed my body with shower foam and whistled a tune to relieve my soul off all the tension that had been relentlessly bottling up in my tiny and miserable brain since morning.

Tttttttttttttttttt—

My whistle ceased at once and my blood was running cold… the vibration was recurring! Out of curiosity, I turned to see the tap, but it stopped abruptly as though it knew squarely I was watching it.

The state of complete relief that had settled in my mind a few minutes ago was beginning to flow away. I looked at the tap again. It was still and silent.

Somewhat terrified, I drew the curtain to cover up myself. Though my mind was a wee bit stretched, I forced myself to whistle and disregard the fear.

Yes, it was quite awkward to know that an 18-year-old mature boy was so spiritually vulnerable to the mere sound of a vibrating dead object inside a bathroom. ‘It could be due to the vibration under the sink, or the construction nearby, couldn’t it?’ I kept chanting the reassuring words until I got my bath finished and trod out of the bathroom. But it was not always a bed of roses, you know.

TTTTTTTTTTtttttttttt tttttttttttt ttttttttt ttttttt tttt tt—

The tap was vibrating again, and this time it was harder still—it was some kind of agitation. I ignored the sound and crawled into my bed, heaving the blanket over my head, forming a small lump with my body curling up like a shrimp, but the vibrating sound was so fierce it made my flesh creep… I fought back the impulse to get up, my hand clutching the blanket harder than ever. Worst of all, the vibration was then accompanied by a dry, ghostly hiss which was something that would only happen in horror movies.

Huh—Huh—

No, this was so not true. I was a high school student and it’s such a crying shame for me to believe in ghosts. It must be my fragment of imagination! No way was I going to believe in it! NO WAY!

Huh—Huh—

My curiosity had reached its pinnacle and I finally succumbed to the temptation of checking it out. Despite the fear, I crawled out of bed and picked my way silently to the bathroom as though surrendering to a force greater than myself. Allowing myself to take the deepest breath ever and then exhale just as slowly, I opened the door…

I was scared… my face went pale…

I looked around. I saw nothing strange but the vibrating tap.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT—

‘Should I turn it open?’ I thought. ‘What’s gonna happen after that?’

Winfred—Huh—

‘Someone was calling my name? It couldn’t be true!’

I was aghast. Trying my best to overcome the rising tide of terror that shook me, my hand drifted slowly towards the tap.

I stayed for a while, but at last, I turned it open—

Guess what, it was a terrible move, just as terrible as kicking a stray dog beside the road or even miles worse than that. I knew I shouldn’t have done it—

A wisp of white smoke jostled out through the sink hole and rose in a round mass as though something was burning under the sink. A few seconds later, the smoke had begun to fill the bathroom. Just at that moment, my red alert system was triggered and it urged me to escape but I was so horrified I tumbled over, my face a pale cameo, my heart pounding more hardly than usual.

God dammit! I yelled, panic-stricken, but my sound was somewhat muffled by the smoke.

I stared at it, completely paralyzed, and the thing I saw just then was the weirdest thing I had ever seen in my life—the smoke curled and condensed instantaneously… at first a face was formed out of the smoke… then the torso… and finally feetless legs… I could not see its complete figure, but at the very moment, all I knew was that it was a skeleton with a pair of gaunt rigid wings… with a fuzzy nose and glassy eyes… hollow mouth… slimy bones, hanging in midair… grunting… groaning… and it was looking at me!

NO, NO, NO! I exclaimed in terror, head erect, nostrils distended, eyes alert, arms trembling… and the fact that I was facing an impending danger created an impetus which forced me to spring up to my feet and dashed out straight to the door of the room. A GHOST HAS LOOMED UP IN FRONT OF ME!!!

My hand managed to grasp the door knob, but the skeleton sucked me backward with its hollow mouth as though a gigantic magnet was attracting a metal bar. The suction force was very strong. No! no… I pleaded, but the savageness of the skeleton was so intense it never gave up bearing down on me.

Huh—Huh—How—dare—you—escape—huh—out—of—my—claws—

I flailed briskly and tried to pull away but I couldn’t, as its strength was too powerful for me to conquer. At last, it crushed my arms tight with its claws, which was scaly, slimy and icy cold, and pierced its teeth forcefully into my neck… blood gushed out from my neck…

For a second I thought I was going to die, but seconds later, a silvery light shot from the balcony as though a magical wand had conjured it and enveloped every corner of my room. Alarmed, the skeleton yanked its teeth out of my neck with my blood splashing out, let out desperate, disheartened groans which were something near to protest and slung me hard onto the floor. It was painful to death…

Huh—No—

In a matter of seconds, it disappeared behind me quick as a flash.

I lied prone, weak and powerless, and blood was coursing down my neck. I was dying…

H—e—l—p— I yelled feebly, and I was not able to squash out the next sentence that mushroomed in my throat, hopeless and helpless. There was nobody to help me this time as my family was not back yet. I had got to accept one thing—the thing and the only thing: I was going to die.

Just then, through the mist of tears that filled my eyes, I could see a blur silhouette of something jumping from the balcony up to the window. Instantly, I thought of two sorts of animal of such size that could leap so actively—a monkey or a cheetah, but it was ludicrous to be able to see these animals in my house.

More or less fainting, the silhouette strode towards me like a thief, and quickly I could hear the sound of something being screwed open just before a drop of liquid hit directly onto my wound. Hard to believe, my bleeding neck and my injured arms were instantly healed.

Buh, are you feeling okay? You seemed very feeble.

It was the girl’s voice that had jerked me conscious.

HUH! HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP ME! NO— I blurted the words out, still hunted by the feeling of fear.

Buh, calm down buh, you are now very safe. Settle down, settle down, she reassured me, holding my hand.

NO! I flinched at her slightest touch. WHO’RE YOU!?

I am Margaret, coming here to save you, buh.

No, this is so not true! You’re a liar! You’re lying and I know that!

Buh, I am here to save you! Calm down please, buh! said Margaret gently.

Why should I listen to you? You must be here to snuff me out! What’s the skeleton? A ghost? A mummy? Or you?

No buh, I have killed it. No worry, please. I will explain everything to you. Calm down first. Okay?

NO! I retorted stubbornly, swinging my arms wildly. Get off me!

Calm down . . . Calm down . . .

Margaret’s voice rang inside my head, and somehow I began to feel steady. I opened my eyes and saw a girl in slinky, jet black costume, which was smooth and gleaming, hunkering just beside me.

Uh… I shook my head vigorously due to the throb of headache, my voice taking a note of nervousness. Who’re you? And your voice… it’s playing in—

She cut me off in mid-sentence. I am from the other planet, buh.

No, no, Margaret, please. Stop creating stories in my bedroom okay? I snarled, cupping my hands over the ears. You must have taken me as a lunatic, but please read my lips: I—AM—NOT!

Alright. Then I am sure you do not mind explaining to me the thing you have seen just now, she said rigidly.

I let a few seconds pass. To find a good answer to her question, I racked my brain so hard my head throbbed more badly. In the meantime, I had a thought which I was reluctant to accept—I was resort to believing her words, no matter how fake or false or lame or—whatever I could describe—it would seem to be, as I had seen the ghost with my own eyes!

I looked at her eyes. Immediately I could decipher her facial expression: There was something really paramount she wanted to deliver; But for her, she decoded my frown in this way: I was regarding her with expressions that conveyed both distrust and dubiousness. So, in order to gain my confidence, she said, Please, buh, trust me okay?

Okay, I trust you, then tell me which planet are you from. Jupiter? Saturn? Or Pluto? I said in mock curiosity.

None of them, she replied.

What?

I am from Volcrox, a planet situated in another solar system in Milky Way (the galaxy in which our solar system is situated), she said plainly.

What? V-Volcroak?

Volcrox, she corrected me.

Volcrok?

Volcrox!

Molcrox?

I think you have never seen the real face of mine! she snarled at me, backing away slowly. Just then, her body muscles began to tense up and expand as though an alien body was stretching out from inside, her canine teeth elongating, dark fur mushrooming, eyes flaring, and it was obvious to the core she was transforming herself into something else—a creature which was extremely ruthless and perilous.

Beads of perspiration stood out on my forehead. I could not believe myself—I was gazing directly at a beast which almost resembled a sabertooth tiger (but double the size of it and dark brown) in my very bedroom. The feminine beast stepped towards me, growling evilly.

Oh no! F—Forgive me Margaret! I stammered, my voice shaking, eyes wide.

My apology was accepted; it quickly transformed back into her preferred form by rearranging her cells and in a split of a second, a female human body took shape in front of me, her costume fading in during the process. She gave me a self-congratulatory smile while I was still shaking. Not until her butt had landed still in the swivel chair did I rose slowly and settled myself in the bed, saying, W—What are you?

It is a Sabertooth Smordo, said Margaret, fidgeting with my pen on the desk. Humph. Pathetic enough.

A Sabertooth Smordo? I asked in a surprised tone, looking puzzled.

Yes, I can change my form at any time, she said, still playing with my pen. So do not mess with me, or I will rip your head off like a toy.

Of course I won’t mess with you. Huh, it’s totally unbelievable. A—And, what is it playing in my mind just now? I asked, gesturing my hand to show the thing I meant to deliver. You know, the—the—

It is the telepathy, said Margaret. Which means the induction of mental states from one mind to another.

What? The telepathy? It’s too hard to believe! I said, frowning. I thought I can just see that in movies.

You have got to, though, replied Ripley.

And what’s the thing you’ve used to heal me just now?

It is the Repair and Recovery Drop. It can repair anything in the universe, including your bones, your flesh, irons, glasses and that sort of thing, she explained.

It can give life to a dead person as well?

Stupid, snarled Margaret harshly. I guess you have not heard what I have told you. It is a Repair and Recovery Drop, not a Resuscitate Drop, don’t you understand me?

Okay, I understand, I said quietly, a wee bit scared. You say you’re from… Volcrox, aren’t you? Yea… okay, fine, then I think you’re supposed to be an alien, aren’t you?

Yes, in your planet, said Margaret.

"Then why’re you here? How do you reach this planet? By means of a spaceship? Or a meteor?

A spaceship. And the thing I am going to tell you after this may scare you to death, so get prepared, she said warningly.

Alright, what’s it you’re gonna tell me? C’mon, speak it out.

She sat still for a while. At the same time, the ivory clock on the wall above the desk struck four.

By the way what is your name? she asked, her voice much softer now and I felt comfortable with that.

Winfred Cowell.

Okay Winfred, listen. In fact, I am not the only one who has reached the Earth, but hundreds of them. Your planet is in an impending war. When right time comes, those comrades will launch an attack on your planet without a wee bit of mercy! Since their arrival, they have been working out their meticulous plan while the Earthmen—the lot of you! said Margaret bluntly, her finger pointing at me. Are still behaving like a bunch of misbegotten fools, not realizing that they are capable of wiping off your species in the course of a single day—

NO—NO! I snapped, clutching my hair. What’s spurred you all to come to this planet, huh?

Extreme greed and glory, said Margaret in a slow drawl to emphasize what she was trying to convey.

No! I won’t have you all taking over the Earth! NO WHATSOEVER! I sang out, and the next sentence that Margaret told me shocked me to death—

Of course, and I am here to lend you a hand, Winfred.

I stayed for a while, eyes cocking, and snorted, What? Why me? You mean I’m gonna save the world? D’you know how ridiculous you are! What d’you think I’m? A Superman? A supernatural hero? A—

Shut up! You are going to be the savior of the Earth and this is the fact, and the bottom line is, you can change from being a normal guy into a supernatural—

I snapped her feverishly, Huh! Why me? Just go and tell your comrades to leave! Why make things so complicated? Is it so difficult?

Winfred, listen. They are no longer my comrades, on the surface at least. I am telling you now, I have just betrayed them not long ago, I hope you understand.

For what? I asked fervently.

For the sake of your planet, so you have got to help us this time, she said. Really.

Help us? I asked immediately after interpreting the exact meaning of her sentence—she had mentioned ‘us’ instead of ‘me’!

Yes. I am not the only one sympathizing with the Earth, anyhow, I will tell you the story later. For the time being, you have to make something perfectly clear, though it sounds completely stupid for you—our planet, Volcrox, is ruled by the Fire Lord, his real name is Zeda. In Volcrox, we are all restricted from mentioning his name, not even a fair bit of it.

Uh-huh.

Shh! hissed Margaret, a frown creasing her forehead, and her voice now switched to a note of threat. He is ever so powerful—he can conjure fire—which is his ultimate weapon. And his Lady, Karsle, possesses a stick which can turn everything else into an irreversible stone in a quick, single shot.

. . . .

Margaret’s right: It sounded profoundly stupid, and it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever stumbled upon in my life, as it could neither be explained from any scientific viewpoint nor the angle of religion. Moreover, there was no logic at all behind her story. Sometimes, I really wanted to bang my head against the wall to check if I was actually dreaming.

Then, Margaret continued, "Followed by the royal members, and I am one of them… then the Skeleroffs and the Werewolves.

You’re the royal member? I asked, feeling myself being fooled.

Yes.

And the Skeleroff?

It is what you have seen just now. Skeleroffs are the officers of the highest rank in the Volcrox military forces, followed by the Werewolves, said Margaret, now sitting with her right leg on top of another.

Silence reigned supreme for a short while. Suddenly, a gust of wind parted the curtains which quickly closed up tight again. Meanwhile, we had our eyes on each other, and then I lowered mine, feeling sheepish, my mind thinking: ‘She’s gorgeous. She doesn’t seem like a beast at all!’

Soon afterwards, the silence was shattered, Oh yea, and the Hudooguard, it is the defensive instrument that conjured the silvery light in the balcony when you are dying.

I raised my head a little, my mouth twitching slightly at the word ‘dying’ . . .

The Hudooguard is the weapon we used to constrain the behaviour of Skeleroffs which was characterized as heart of stone and it is inherited by our antecedent, Hudoo. The Skeleroffs are so brutal that you cannot imagine with your mind’s eye and they can actually overturn our empire, so Hudoo invented these weapons a couple of centuries ago, just in case it might come in handy.

Um, I made a sound in my throat as I did not know what to say. Then, she lowered her voice to an angry mutter.

The Fire Lord is going too far. I must thwart his plan and I will not let him have his way, not as long as I live! she mumbled, her fist clenching so hard my pen ended up in two parts. His armies must disband! He is to depart this planet, never to return!

Just when she was starting to feel furious, we heard the floorboard outside the room creaked. Immediately she knew she could not stay any longer, so in a frantic movement, she jumped up, darted over to the window and leapt off the way a vampire did. After a few seconds, the door burst open and barged in a 15-year-old boy, hazel-eyed, spiky-haired, slightly chubby, named Aaron.

WHEN I SEE YOUR FACE, THERE’S NOT A THING THAT I WOULD CHANGE, ’CAUSE YOU ARE AMAZING, JUST THE WAY YOU ARE… sang Aaron loudly in falsetto like a psychotic boy.

You’re in love? I said, rolling my eyes impatiently. Most importantly, he had prevented me from knowing further about the Volcrox’s stuffs.

Hey! What have you been up to in here? It’s kinda messy! You’ve had an exercise?

Nothing, I said, twisting my lips.

AND WHEN YOU SMILE, THE WHOLE WORLD STOPS AND STARES FOR A WHILE…

Shut up! I snapped, flinging the pillow at him.

Oops! It missed! he sang out, jumping and bouncing like a naughty monkey. Just when I was going to swing the bolster at him, he quickly bounced off my room self-satisfactorily and slammed the door shut. What else? Silence won again!

Feeling peeved, I got up and flopped back in front of my desk, and a piece of folded paper which was clamped under the laptop on the desk reached my eyes. Instantly, a question popped into my head: It was not there before, who’s placed it there? So out of curiosity, I took it up, unfolded it and tried to read the words which were almost illegible. I studied the paper as I might and deciphered the handwriting slowly. After some struggling moments, I managed to get it. It read:

Winfred,

Meet me in the woods 2 kilometres away from your house at 3 tomorrow. There is nothing more crucial than this. Bear this in your mind, or there will be more Sabertooth Smordos in your room. And there is one thing I have not told you yet: I am a Smedaphite, will explain to you tomorrow. One more thing, set your home number in your cell phone, and bring it along every time you meet us.

Margaret.

I bore my head with my hands, my body rocking to and fro on the chair, and began to daydream, ‘Smedaphite . . . Sabertooth Smordos . . . what a strange name . . .’

38279.png

The ivory clock struck eight. The crescent moon had appeared and the canopy of stars with their bright, twinkling lights appeared like a carpet of jewels and was a beautiful sight. Ripley Lechter, my girlfriend, was sitting with me in my bed, while the rest of my family was minding their own business in their rooms.

I looked at her, a pretty girl in a cream-coloured blouse and a velvet miniskirt.

You’re gorgeous tonight, I said straightly and she smiled, blushing.

She turned and faced me squarely, her eyes glinting with pleasure, and held my hand softly, a gesture which made my body engines supercharged. After that first breathtaking contact, my hands became very active and I swung my arms around her waist, lips rained kissing upon her face and neck, crushing her body against mine…

I—I love you, Winfred! said Ripley, her voice purring, mellow and sexy. That feels good! Breathless, I shoved her flat into my bed and crushed her even more against my body, my lips kissing her neck, then eagerly crawled up to her chin and finally pressed her raspberry-like lips, our legs tangled and fingers interlaced.

Oh… yea… your lips—this is what I like… so much…

My hands became more active. I caressed her gingerly-brown hair and slid my hands slowly down to her back, my body busy generating an adrenaline rush… depthless eyes, moans of pleasure, heaving chests, dilating noses… all served to delight my five senses so much!

Gasping for night air, we squirmed in each other’s arms and I pushed her head onto my pillow, rained kissing each other, thrilled and aroused. Out of my senses, my fingers ran over her breasts, pinched her top button and were undoing it when she grudgingly shoved me back a little.

No, sweetie, we shouldn’t… though I was thirsting for it… sorry babe, I love you…

I understand… I stammered, sinking into my bed heavily. We lay on our sides, my body inclining with my head on the palm. Meanwhile, we stared at each other’s eyes so long that it was the longest stare we could possibly imagine.

You’ve beautiful eyes, I said fervently.

Thanks—very much.

I stroke her face and she held my hand gently, How’s your Taekwondo practice going? You said you’ll have a competition next month, didn’t you?

Yeah… a competition, you think I can get a place? I whispered.

Why not? she said with a toss of her hair.

I gave a little chuckle and looked up to the ceiling, hesitated, Ah… yea… I’ll try my best. Anyway, the night’s still young… and, what now?

Um—

Suddenly, the incoming call ringtone pierced through the night air like a thunderbolt. I ignored it at first, but the phone seemed to be ringing more insistently than ever. Hence, driven by an urge of irritation, I got out, whipped off the receiver and placed it firmly at my ear, then came up with, Hello—

A warm, maternal voice which was so familiar I could recognize it in a split instant flowed though the device, Hello, this is Mrs. Lechter. Is Ripley in?

Oh Aunt, yes… yes, she’s still here, just a second.

I gestured for her daughter to come and passed the phone to her. After a minute or so, she hung up and turned to me, an expression of something near to disappointment crossed her beautiful face. Uh… you know, my mom’s awaiting me. I’ve gotta go now, she said half-heartedly, then kissed on my cheek—an action that showed her immense loathing for leaving my house so early.

For a second, I wanted to pull her back, but I did not give in to the temptation. Instead, I just let her go with a reluctant and unenthusiastic Oh is it? Okay then, c’ya!.

C’ya! replied Ripley, pacing down the staircase. Not long after that, I could hear the vague sound of her car being started and driven off Powell Street…

When I was heading back to my room, the door of the master bedroom was suddenly yanked open and out poked the head of my 49-year-old dad through the gap, with matted hair atop, glasses lopsided, his hand holding the toothbrush slackly.

She’s gone? dad asked, looking around, and a drop of toothpaste landed on his shirt. Oops.

Yeah. I said, closing the door slowly behind me. Good night everyone!

I trod straight into the bathroom and have my wash and brush. Then, I clambered into my bed, pulled the blanket on top of me and fell into a deep slumber…

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RRIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG—

The chime of the alarm clock came to an abrupt cessation when my hand slammed hard against its switch. Yawning, I crawled out of the ‘warm nest’, arranged it neatly and did the routines that I had always been doing every morning. After that, I clattered down the stairs and headed for the living room before I saw my pet cat, Sprawly—it was named Sprawly because it always liked to lie down—lying on the threadbare cushion on the sofa.

Meow— it purred with mellow voice when it saw me in the living room. I ignored it and opened the door before I reached my bicycle in the yard, preparing to cycle to St. Michael High School situated approximately three kilometres away from my house. Straight up, I could not help dwelling on the event that had transpired yesterday. I was all too horrific, creepy and spine tangling.

Thirty minutes ticked past… I walked along the school corridors, my bag dangling off one shoulder, turned several corners and climbed up the staircase. On the first-floor landing, I turned right and a friend of mine popped up in front of me so suddenly I backed away a few paces with quick reflexes to avoid a collision.

Hi, Winfred, greeted Nicole with a flamboyant smile. However, the thing I did was just to nod a little. If I was capable of smiling, I would have done so. Reason, my mind was being bombarded with some kinds of questions at the moment: ‘Am I going to save the world? Am I that capable? Should I believe what Margaret’s said?’

Finally I reached the ‘Orchid’ classroom at the middle of the corridor. I walked to my seat, lied my bag down and threw myself into the chair, my fingers tapping out a rhythm on the table. ‘Smedaphites . . . Telepathy . . . Fire Lord . . . Hudooguard . . .’

Shit, I muttered indignantly to myself. Shit. This isn’t a fiction. I’m not that childish—and no way am I going to believe this whole bunch of shits!

Hey, speaking to yourself, huh? interfered Rupert out of the blue, his hand tapping on my shoulder. It seems that something’s eating away at you!

Oh is it? said Alfred, the guy who sat behind me. He sounded very enthusiastic at this topic. What’s happened to you? You can just share it out. We’re friends.

Uh… nothing, I said pensively. Anyway, thanks.

The school bell rang as usual, but hardly could the echoes of its chime die away from my head. Just when I was beginning to settle down, our Biology teacher, Madam Cataleya, strode grimly into the classroom and the rest of them darted back to their seats like cockroaches skittering off their premises when the light was switched on, stood erect (including me), and wished her a respectful but fearful ‘good morning ma’am’ at the sonorous command of our class monitor, Simon.

Alright. Please have your seats, said Madam Cataleya with her naturally shrill voice, keeping her head as upright as ever, eyes sweeping deliberately across the room, then began to nag. I’d expected all of you to sit down and wait for my lesson quietly but much to my disappointment, the lots of you are acting like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons…

She’s nagging again, said Alfred (sitting behind me) to Matthew (aside him).

Shush, hissed Matthew in reply. Not—so—loud.

. . . and if I ever see you all misbehaving in the time to come, I won’t hesitate to give you all (Whitney twisted his face) appropriate detentions (Peter uttered a disappointing ‘oh’).

There was a vague mixture of mumbling sounds just after Madam Cataleya had made her cessation for effect.

Shush— hissed Simon warningly to his classmates.

This was our Biology teacher, Madam Cataleya, a 45-year-old, nit-picking spinster who was always partial to finding flaws in other people and criticized them sharply. Furthermore, she was the teacher who always gave us tons of homework on a weekly basis as though we were all mechanical robots. Additionally, she had a droning, monotonous voice in which the soporific effect was so high that it was more or less guaranteed to pose severe drowsiness in a matter of not more than fifteen minutes. She never varied the style of her lessons and just kept lecturing us unremittingly while we looked at our notes, or rather gazed emptily into space, poker-faced. Only the hardworking ones were able to resist the soporific power of her voice.

Well, please take out your textbook and turn to page 87—nope, sorry… 89.

I took out the textbook and stared down at the top of my desk as though spiritless.

Alright, let’s continue with our non-cyclic photophosphorylation, Madam Cataleya began to lecture. Light energy is absorbed by accessory pigments of Photosystem II… the energy is transferred to the reaction centre of pigment P680 in Photosystem II (Sophia was yawning) . . . The p680 becomes photoactivated… and high energy electrons are released… and…

She stopped suddenly, glaring at me over her thin-framed glasses. . . . and I s’pose none of you in this class are dare to divert your attention away from my lesson and let it wander valiantly in your own daydream, said Madam Cataleya sternly. And I wonder are your ears at me, Winfred!

I looked at her, my spirit rose a further few notches and I dreaded what could possibly be in store for me especially after her strict warning the moment she had entered the classroom, and I was right—

Winfred, you’ll be put in detention this evening.

Pardon? I asked unusually bravely.

A detention this evening, she repeated.

No, I can’t—

What d’you mean by you can’t? she asked with falsely sweet voice.

No—

You’ve got a knot in your brain? said Rudolf (aside me) under his breath. You know it’s unwise to argue with your ma’am!

I sat still, speechless. ‘No. I can’t. I’ve got a meeting with Margaret at 3. This is no trifling matter!’ I thought. ‘No way! I’ve got to figure out a way to escape, by nooks or by crooks!’

You’ve got any problem? asked Madam Cataleya, ripping off my thought.

Y—Yes, ma’am. I’ve a tuition class this evening, I came out with an excuse which first appeared in my head. You know, a maths class.

I’m certain you haven’t f’gotten that school matters are always the first priority, have you? said Madam Cataleya, shaking her head in disapproval.

No—

Then? Any more objection?

Um… yeah, my mom’s asked me to watch over her cat, as I’ll be the only one at home till this evening, I concocted another excuse; I was slightly edgy and my hands were trembling imperceptibly.

I’ll call your mom later, any more excuses? she said in a sugary voice, then her admonitory eyes narrowed coldly. You know I hate excuses, Mr. Cowell. You can get my drift, I suppose.

Er… I… I faltered disappointedly.

No ifs, ands, or buts, Winfred. I’ll meet you again after school this evening, in this class, she said, eyes back on the page. "Well, let’s come back to our lesson…

-CHAPTER TWO-

The Detention and

the Accident

38406.png IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNGGGG!!!!!

The loud bell signaled that the school was over. Students piled along the corridors like a swarm of bees, most of them headed straight for the main entrance, while the rest stayed in school for their co-curricular activities. Mr. Fuller (the chief advisor of the disciplinary board) was watching the students at the main entrance, his hand holding a rattan to prevent them from further throwing mud at the name of the school.

As a matter of fact, one of the students in ‘Hibiscus’ classroom, named Hugh, had done something morally unacceptable which tarnish the school reputation badly a fortnight ago—he was about to molest a 16-year-old girl at a lonely corner somewhere nearby the language lab when the girl managed to make a miraculous escape after swiping him off. After the incident, there were some sort of rumours going around: Some said there was an angel watching over her that day; some mentioned how the girl beat Hugh black and blue with her martial ability which was so not true since there was no any bruise on his body except the one on his face across which the girl had smacked her palm, and so on. As a result, Hugh was dragged to the principal’s office the next day and arrested by police to be questioned.

Instantly an idea of escaping from the detention appeared in my mind: By means of violence—punch Madam Cataleya unconscious.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ I thought. ‘It’s ridiculous. She’s your teacher. Never ever think of that!’

If I’d done so just to escape to Margaret, then I was really a bonehead as I knew the probability of being arrested would be a square and complete 1, though my maths was not that good. Besides, it was a serious offense! Therefore, for a second, I knew I was not going to do that, but the certainty seemed to sway soon afterwards.

‘Margaret possesses great magical power, so she can cover up for me with her unusual ability. YES—THE TELEPATHY! IT IS ALL GRIST TO THE MILL!! Plus, the world war might commence sooner or later, which means that the need for me to escape into the woods will be the first priority, if and only if Margaret does not fool me into believing her story,’ I thought comprehensively. ‘But there are too many ifs in my idea. What if I have miscalculated? What if Margaret turned her back on me by just saying, "Oh—it’s none of my business. You’re not capable of saving the world and what’s the point I plump for you? Uh, I’ll find someone else . . ."? Easy, I’ll wind up in the police station, hopeless and helpless, clinging to nobody—"

Immediately the image of my body being dragged to the principal, arrested, cuffed, questioned, charged with offense… with my shrieks of plead and imploring tears coursing down my cheek, my body rocking… wove in my mind.

‘But if Margaret was telling the truth, how am I gonna knock her down in a mere blow? I’m neither a well-trained martial artist nor a kung fu master. If my attempt doesn’t work, it’ll be too dreadful to contemplate the consequences . . .’

‘Uh, how?’

‘Wait . . . there’s still a way. The ‘pressure point knockout’. Yes! I’ve been taught about that during taekwondo lessons. Though I’ve never done a real experiment, I’ve got to give it a shot!’

‘WILL I REGRET? I guess I won’t, because what I’m gonna do is just too simple: I just gotta knock my teacher down with what I’ve learnt, cycled to the woods, meet Margaret and tell her about what I’ve done, and she’ll settle the rest for me. Problem’s solved!’

"Alright Winfred,