Murder He Wrote Part 1.3

~ (from Part 1.2)

All around us there was a sound of screams echoing through the darkened forest. There was water dripping from the leaves of the forbidden jungle. We were standing in the middle of a clearing, by a large oak tree. Timmy said “Wow!” It was a star-filled, windy night. Wild animals roared, and hissed, and chattered in the trees above. All kinds of bizarre sounds surrounded us, as we sat in the dark, feeling alone and confused.

Bratt’s younger brother, PJ, suddenly ran out into the forest, climbed up a tree, and began imitating the animals noises. Bratt and Joe called to him, but he was lost in the darkness, and would not come back. John said it would be a waste of time looking for him.

When the rest of us finally got our wits about us, we chose Joe and Timmy to go out for firewood. Mac and Boston had to practice some skateboard moves. The rest of us huddled in a circle, waiting. Bryan began filming a documentary.

When suddenly there appeared an orange blur in the trees! It became clearer as it headed for us through the mist. It was a man. No it looked more like a teenager. And then we realized it was Lea’s brother, Thrasher, in a pink and white tuxedo, with his hands tucked into his pockets. He was whistling a tune, I think it was Row, Row, Row Your Boat or something. His hair was shaved on one side, which looked as though it were going to throw him off balance. The air smelled like burnt crayons, and his shoe laces looked rough and were tied in double-knots. Then he stopped walking, and looked at us, and smiled. “Do you know which way it is to Zimbabwe?”

We shrugged our shoulders, and then he turned and slowly walked off into the darkness again. We all agreed that was weird. Soon Joe and Timmy came back with wood and matches. We started to light the fire when Laurel spoke up. “Where did you guys get those matches?”

“Oh, we got these matches at the gift shop down a ways,” Joe said. We all stood on our tip-toes and looked at eachother. Then we all sped off in the direction Joe and Timmy had came from, leaving Pavlov (which no one had noticed was even with the party) at the camp fire rolling dice on his own; which was just the way he liked it.

After about an hour, we sat down and thought. Just then we heard drumming just behind us. We jumped through the bushes, and stood in awe over the sights we saw. Through the jungle, lit by the radiant light of dawn, were temples, huts, markets, out-houses, palaces, parking lots, army tanks, runways, and landing pads. There were also people everywhere! As we came closer, we noticed a boy with a crown on, doing cart-wheels while picking his nose, off the roof of a palace. We approached him with trepidation.

“What are you doing, oh King?” Joe finally asked.

The boy stopped and did a flip to the ground beside Joe. “I do what kings are supposed to do.” This King looked suspiciously like PJ. Bratt became impatient, and asked “Who are you supposed to be, where are we, and have you seen a ghost running around with no shirt on?” “Me Peeajaya McMasterson, in Africa, about 100 BC, and no.” That was the answer that the King gave, but he also added “You are welcome to walk around a bit.”

Our small group headed down the street. We toured palaces and temples, and took a jet ride. “This humidity is saturating my brain!” I said aloud. “You are right, it is sweaty out here,” Timmy said as he pulled a random chain with a sign on it reading “Shower”; which dumped a bucket of cold water on his head. “Ahhh!”

“That reminds me!” Bratt stated. “We’ve got to find that Bonner Sweat-shirt!”

We dashed over to King PJ McMasterson, and asked if he knew a way to get back to our own time and space. The King happened to nod his head, and pulled out what looked like a tape recorder. He handed it to Mac. “A tape recorder?” Bratt questioned.

“No record tape, this a time machine! You press record, it remember where you are. You press play, it take you to where you started. You press rewind, you go back in time. But if you press fast-forward, you go forward in time, to FUTURE!!”

“Okay guys, we have got to get out of here, and figure this crap out!” Bratt said. Mac, Joe, and I tried to glean more information by studying the mysterious Tape Recorder Time Machine. “I did it!” Boston shouted after successfully completing a double mctwist ollie, one-and-one-half teaspoon kick-flip on his skateboard.

“Ok now boys,” Laurel said. “I am the only girl here, so I’m feeling kind of alone here; but we really need to get organized. We have to get out of here. I am writing a novel, and I have plans to work on it some tonight after my homework is done.”

“Alright,” Bryan said. “Where is everyone? Do we have everyone we came here with?” Joe, John, Laurel, Boston, Mac, Bryan, Bratt, and I were present. “Eight of us are here. Does King PJ count as nine?” I wondered. “How many of us came here?” We looked around, and at eachother. “I think 10 counting Laurel,” Mac said.

“So where is Timmy? Where did Timmy wander off to? Anyone see Timmy?” Joe asked.

Meanwhile, Timmy had wandered into a hot, empty bathroom with no running water. Timmy pressed the button for cold water over and over. Finally Timmy just slammed his head against the button and heard a beep. He thought maybe it was finally starting to work, so he pressed the button again. “I know I heard a beep,” Timmy said.

Just then, a short little fat guy waddled in and threw a bucket of cold water on him. Timmy reached for a towel, when he heard another beep, and the little guy came in again and dumped another bucket of cold water on him. This process was repeated, until it became annoying. When Timmy threw some wet cash and pennies at him, the man stooped to picked up the money, and left; bowing at every few steps. “Boy that was strange!?!” Timmy told himself.

Timmy arrived just as we began debating which buttons to press on the time machine, and what might happen if we did. King PJ had leapt out of sight, leaving us unsure and timid about using the Tape Recorder Time Machine. “What’cha guys doin’?” Timmy asked. “This will take us back home, we think,” Joe answered. “Wow, cool!” Timmy said as he reached in and pressed the fast-forward button.

“Noooooooooo!!!” We all yelled simultaneously.

Lights flashed, bells whistled, and whistles chimed as we were all ripped from the past, and spun far into the future. Our reality spun around and around, upside down and back again, until after a few minutes our feet were on the ground and we stopped spinning. Then the motion, or rather lack of motion, sickness set in. Spinning around was thrilling, but our bodies now had to readjust themselves to the new environment.

~ (continued in Part 1.4)


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