The Thrilling Adventures of the Secluded Man: The Series of Magical Adventures Presents

By M. Scott Smallwood

The Golden Lion: an enchanted relic comprised of three fragments. One held by a recluse, Clyde, and the other by his arch-nemesis, Crazy Eyes. Crazy Eyes uses the magic of his piece to go back in time to prevent Julius Caesar's assassination. Clyde and his friend, Arnold, go back to stop him but collectively alter the timeline even further. An o

• Language: English
• Publisher: Larger Than Life Books
• Release date: Jul 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781087971520

Book preview

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Clyde's Turmoil

THIS fantasy of glorious wonder tells a series of invigorating anecdotes, including three magical golden artifacts, a benevolent king, crazy-eyed mischief, and many mystical creatures. This series of amazing adventures will center around the most amazing man who has ever lived while he embarks on the most memorable of journeys with his closest friend and others who would become his friends along the way; however, before we get to that, one must know that this amazing series of magical expeditions begins with the troublesome yet mundane life of Clyde Laurie, the secluded man. Although this series will become the most amazing story ever told, one must understand just how the most adventurous man became secluded.

​Before we begin, I must answer an important question. Who is narrating this story? Who knows Clyde so well to tell his amazing story in great detail? ’Tis I, Thadius Might. Who am I? I am a magical guardian who can exist outside time and space, created by Clyde’s grandfather, Oliver, by way of the magical artifact called the lion heart, to watch over and protect Clyde until his return from his own expedition. Oliver embarked on his adventure decades ago when Clyde was just a young boy but has never returned. Why did Oliver leave on an expedition of his own? What is the lion heart? And what does all this have to do with Clyde? All will be revealed throughout this series.

​The first story of the series will begin by focusing on Clyde’s boring adult life. His life is so mundane that one could say he is always on autopilot. Every part of his day is routine. For example, he wakes in the morning at precisely 6:30 a.m. He then eats the same wheat biscuit cereal, which he has eaten his entire adult life at exactly 6:36 a.m., brushes his teeth on time at 6:55 a.m., and combs his hair at precisely 6:58 a.m. His entire wardrobe contains only five identical work suits; each is labeled to identify the day of the week they should be donned, and he begins to dress at no later than 7:02 a.m. Keep in mind, that this entire process is precisely sixteen minutes. ​

As he dons his rather inexpensive black slacks, buttoned white shirt, black tie, and blazer, he, like a mindless zombie, strolls toward his kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee…black, that is. At 7:21 a.m., he opens his phone and reads his emails, and at 8:15 a.m. sharp, he exits his apartment and begins his casual stroll to his mundane job, where he has worked for fifteen long years. After his workday concludes, he returns to his apartment, grabs his favorite chocolate bar snack, watches rerun episodes of his favorite childhood show titled The Adventures of Lloyd and Steve, and talks to his mother on the phone for a brief moment just before he lays in his bed. His life is so boring that one could find it hard to believe that he would be the main character of such an adventurous novel. ​

Clyde resides in a small studio apartment in the enormous downtown area of London, England. His walls and cabinets are each painted white. His countertop, chairs, floor, furniture, curtains, and even his dishes bare the color white like a bad television commercial.

​He works as a journalist at an international sports magazine firm called World Football Magazine— a magazine not focused on American football. His boss, the senior editor, named Richard Proctor, is hardly pleasant and shows no respect to Clyde, despite his many attempts to prove his worthiness. Although Clyde utterly dreads his job, he remains hopeful because he was promised a promotion to the position of senior editor once Richard resigns, and that time is drawing near. Richard was recently offered a more lucrative editor position at another magazine firm called Football Pro and is three weeks away from what Clyde calls the exit of one irksome fellow.

For Clyde, Richard’s exit couldn’t come fast enough. ​Richard tends to assign the most unpleasant tasks to Clyde and has done so ever since Richard accepted the senior editor role eight years ago. This week was no exception. Clyde, shouts Richard as he paces toward Clyde’s small cubicle and drops a folder onto Clyde’s desk, I need you to write this article. Actually, it’s more of a rewrite. You see…I already assigned the interview to Jane, but…well, let’s face it…she can’t write an article if her life depended on it. He gazes at Jane’s cubicle and continues, She is a most pleasant sight though. Don’t you agree?               ​

Clyde forces a smile as he opens the folder. Richard adds, I’m going to need this completed first thing in the morning.

​Clyde often fantasizes about throwing Richard outside of an open window from the twelfth floor of the towering building, and today, he finally speaks aloud to himself while Richard steps toward the coffee machines. I hope you brought your parachute. ​

Richard pauses as he feels perplexed. What does that even mean? he asks himself. He returns to Clyde’s cubicle and asks, What was that? ​

Clyde becomes stunned when he discovers that Richard has heard every word. Everyone within a three-meter radius heard the words spoken by Clyde. Oh, nothing, he replies while he embarrassingly smiles and chuckles. I guess I won’t have time to play my flute. ​

Richard knows that Clyde never mentioned a flute, and he doesn’t feel the need to entertain this conversation any further. He says to him, Right. Don’t forget…first thing in the morning.

​I’ll get right on it, replies Clyde. ​

Now would be a great time to elaborate on the history between Clyde and Richard. Eight years ago, when the senior editor position became available, Richard and Clyde were the two promising candidates for consideration. Clyde was originally the previous editor’s top choice, and he was just days away from moving his belongings into what would become his new office. All that would change when a storm of bad luck rained down upon Clyde like a hurricane through a cow pasture---or something like that.

​Clyde was assigned an interview with England’s top star football player, Douglas Ward, and Clyde couldn’t have felt more distraught. Clyde and Douglas attended high school together, and throughout that time, Douglas would boost his team’s morale before every football game when he and his teammates chased Clyde throughout the halls of the school and performed a series of bullying acts when Clyde was caught. Days before Douglas’s last high school game, he picked up Clyde, tipped him upside down, and shoved his head into a toilet. Douglas did, at least, have the decency to flush the toilet, but only while Clyde’s head remained inside its bowl. Douglas then returned Clyde to his feet, and he and his teammates hysterically laughed. Douglas felt so amused when he saw tears falling from Clyde’s eyes that he turned to one of his teammates and said, We need to get a picture of this. Does anyone have a camera?

​Unfortunately for Clyde, a young girl to whom Clyde felt attracted appeared from behind the crowd of football players and said, I have a Polaroid.

​The young and attractive girl, Chloe, was a school newspaper photographer, and the team often requested her presence. She was aware of Clyde’s infatuating crush on her, but she didn’t share his feelings and has respectfully rejected him the numerous times he attempted to make an advance.

​When Clyde heard her soft and beautiful voice, he felt betrayed. How could she do this to me? he asked himself. She is going to humiliate me. ​Humiliate Clyde is exactly what happened. She smiled when she snapped a photograph of Clyde drenched in toilet water and then posted an article in the school newspaper, which was headlined, Don’t be this guy on game day.

​Clyde felt so embarrassed that he didn’t attend school for ten days following that incident, and when he finally returned, his worst fears came to life. Every student attending his high school laughed at the sight of him and would call him names such as Crybaby and Toilet boy, but none would gain more fame than the name given by Douglas. He called him, Mr. Swirly. Unfortunately for Clyde, it was almost as if his birth name was completely forgotten, and Mr. Swirly became its suitable replacement. ​

During their senior year, Clyde was nominated for a literary scholarship at the prestige Oxford University. He began to write a novel that featured an adventurer named Arnold McCord, who would experience great encounters. Clyde planned to publish it as his first novel since he once aspired to become one of England’s most well-known authors, but Douglas had different plans for Clyde. Clyde prepared a speech on a folded sheet of paper, which he planned to read during their high school graduation. He became so excited about it that he read a small portion of it to a classmate while they stood inside the school restroom. Douglas overheard some of Clyde’s speech and decided to write a different version on Clyde’s behalf. His plan was simple; write a speech that all would find appalling and grotesque and replace it with the beautiful and eloquent speech already prepared. ​

Douglas spent nearly twenty minutes preparing Clyde’s new speech. When Clyde exited their classroom to use the toilet, Douglas seized his opportunity, reached into Clyde’s backpack, and swapped the nearly identical sheets of paper. This is where things began to go awry for dear old Clyde. ​

Clyde did not again open his speech letter until the moment he was to recite the words. When his name was called by Dean Falckhorn, Clyde stood to his feet and approached the podium. After he opened his speech letter, he faced the large crowd, and while Douglas deviously chuckled, Clyde began his speech, Hello, ladies and gents. Fellow classmates, we finally made it. He glanced at his speech letter and continued, In case you don’t know who I am, my name is Clyde Laurie, aka Mr. Swirly. ​

The crowd laughed while he gazed at his speech letter. He felt perplexed because he knew that he did not write those words. He then began to read the letter aloud while he completely disregarded that the crowd could hear every word, I don’t even know what I am doing. Why would the dean choose such a putz like me to deliver a speech to all of you? I mean, really? I can’t even tie my own shoes, let alone encourage a group of students who are better than me at everything to succeed in something they would most likely fail. Let’s face it…most of you won’t make anything of yourselves. ​

While the crowd booed him, he exclaimed, I didn’t write this. Honestly.

​Dean Falckhorn commanded, Clyde, stop this nonsense this instant. What has gotten into you? ​

I didn’t write this.

​Stop toying around, and fix this. ​

Clyde faced the crowd that became silent after their series of negative and nasty chants. He said to them, My fellow classmates, my sincerest apologies. It seems as if the speech I wrote has gone missing. What I meant to say was…it is ultimately your choice to succeed at whatever it is that you enjoy. He paused and gazed at the crowd to observe their angry expressions and discontentment with his words. He then turned toward Dean Falckhorn and received the same expression. Dean said, If you don’t fix this right now, you will lose your scholarship to Oxford. Your father won’t be happy about that. Will he?

​Clyde faced the crowd and paused for a brief moment while he carefully contemplated his words. What shall I say? he asked himself. Who could’ve replaced my speech? Why would someone sabotage me? ​

Those few seconds seemed like hours to young Clyde, who became increasingly frightened to utter another word. Pressure from Dean Falckhorn provoked a more rapid response than Clyde anticipated. His final words to his classmates became a metaphorical hammer that pounded the final metaphorical nail into Clyde’s metaphorical coffin. He sighed and lowered his head. Without a single care remaining, he said, It’s no use. No matter what I say, all of you will do what you will. Let’s face it. None of you liked me from the start. All of you laughed at my expense all school year— he pointed toward Douglas and continued—on account of this pompous tool who couldn’t help himself but act like a small child all school year. He paused while Douglas hysterically laughed. One might even say that Clyde was eating right out of the palm of his hand. Douglas felt excited to watch Clyde cause his disaster because he felt there was nothing more for him to contribute to Clyde’s downward spiral.               ​

Clyde continued, All of you called me names. Most of you bullied me for no good reason. We could’ve been friends, but all of you chose to laugh at me instead of with me. I mean…you’re all such a drab, really. It was hardly what I would call an enjoyable experience having known all of you. I hope all of you end up homeless, living in a cardboard box, and eating scraps out of a dumpster. That’s all any of you deserve. He turned toward Dean Falckhorn and uttered, And as for you, Dean…who cares what my father thinks? I haven’t seen him in years, and I doubt he even remembers I exist. ​

Clyde then casually exited the stage and began his long journey home…on foot, that is. For some crazy reason, Clyde believed he achieved something that day, but all he did was sabotage any chance of an Oxford scholarship or an acceptance into the prestigious university at all. None of that mattered to young Clyde because he felt confident that his adventurous novel would become his gateway to success. Unfortunately, his plan to complete his novel would ultimately be postponed. ​

When Clyde arrived home after his debauchery of a speech, he closed the front door and heard his mother, Katherine, shout from their living room, Clyde! We need to talk right now.

She was unable to attend his graduation ceremony because she was called for an emergency at the hospital where she worked as a nurse. ​Frightened, Clyde felt reluctant to enter their living room but complied because he always obeyed her every command. He loved his mother dearly and felt she always looked out for his best interest. After all, he was her only child. ​

After he entered their living room, he discovered that his mother sat on their sofa and appeared very disappointed. She pointed at their love seat and commanded, Sit. Once he was seated, she continued, What in God’s name were you thinking? ​Oh, you heard already?

​Of course, I heard already. Dean Falckhorn called me right away. He said he felt concerned about your well-being. Are you all right, son? What has gotten into you?

​Nothing that hasn’t already been there.

​What do you mean? she asked.

​Clyde casually replied, Well, Douglas and his teammates have bullied me from the start of freshman year, and all my classmates laughed along with them at my expense. I saw this as an opportunity to let them know exactly what I thought of them and tell them exactly where to go. Aren’t you proud of me, Mom? Your boy finally stood up for himself.

​Certainly not at the right time, I might say. She paused and continued, Do you have any idea what you have done to your future? Oxford had already revoked your invitation. What will you do now? What’s more, what will your father think? ​

Clyde became perturbed when she mentioned his father and replied, Oh, who cares what that monster thinks? I have no care for him. I need nothing from that poor excuse of a man. My care for his thoughts walked out that door when he left.

​Clyde’s father was a highly respected theoretical physics professor at Oxford University, who was called Professor Mathias Laurie. He was prized for having discovered a new mathematical formula for predicting the workings of black holes and recently proved his theories. He was so respected that not only did he win a Nobel prize, but he also became knighted. Mathias spent so much of his time pleasing the well-known people of England that it was almost like he had completely forgotten about his family. At least, that was how Clyde and his mother felt. ​

At age ten, Clyde was still engaged in adventures with his imaginary friend. Imaginary by definition of his parents, not by young Clyde. While his father grew tired of what he called foolishness, Katherine grew tired of Mathias spending most of his time on his job. One particular night, young Clyde stormed into the kitchen from the back door while drenched from head to toe. It appeared as if he had danced under pouring rain, only it hadn’t rained one single drop. Clyde donned a full rain suit prior to playtime outside. A yellow rain hat, long yellow fisherman’s jacket, yellow bibs, and royal blue rain boots completed his attire. One might wonder why the young boy donned an entire fisherman’s suit on such a dry day and what events had taken place to cause young Clyde to be drenched. That tale will have to be told in another novel because it involves another exciting adventure with his friend who only he could see. Either way, his father became furious. ​

Mathias stood to his feet and glared at young Clyde while he gazed at the boy’s attire. I beg your pardon! he exclaimed. Just what in God’s name were you doing, boy?               

​Calm down, Mathias. He’s just a boy, interrupted Katherine. 

​What were you doing? You tell me this instant. ​

Well, replied Clyde, Arnold and I—

​Oh, enough with Arnold! shouted Mathias. That is enough. I have had it with your foolish imaginary games with your imaginary friend. It’s time you grow up and learn some skills. ​

Mathias! she interrupted again.

​No. He needs to hear this.

​At that moment, Clyde became so distraught and heartbroken over his father’s reaction that unnoticeable tears began to fall from his eyes. The young boy then darted outside the back door and slammed it shut. Mathias became appalled at Clyde’s abrupt exit and motioned toward the door, but Katherine immediately blocked his chase to engage in a conversation of her own.

​We need to talk! she commanded.

​Yes, we do, Mathias replied. About your son. ​

He’s your son, too, Mathias. His whole life, he’d been trying to get your approval…your love…some of your time, but you just won’t give him any of it. You’re so wrapped up in your job that you don’t even notice he exists until he does something you don’t approve of. You missed his entire childhood, Mathias. You missed all his play recitals, all his science fair projects, and all his birthday parties. Mathias, he just wants a few minutes of your precious time without hearing judgment from your lips. Is that too much to ask? Is it, Mathias? And what about time with me? I would like some of your time too. After everything I do here, I think I deserve a bit of it. Don’t you think?

​Mathias paused for a moment to ponder Katherine’s words so that he could carefully calculate his next move as if he were engaged in a game of chess. His next move was one that not even Katherine would have predicted. Mathias lowered his head and then turned