Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Jumanji franchise or any characters associated with the franchise. All rights belong to Chris Van Allsburg, Joe Johnston, and Interscope Communications. This is not my intellectual property, and no financial gain is made from this nor will be sought. This is purely for entertainment purposes only.
Chapter 1 - A Not-So-Normal Friday
"In the darkest reaches of space,
A lone planet comes into view.
Mysteries abound, nothing is known,
About this strange new world."
Those were the opening lyrics to a song that was being composed by a tenth-grade student at Emberville Collegiate. The student's name was Michael Foster, and he was sitting in front of a grand piano in Practice Room Five. The bright sunlight that shone into the room reflected off of the piano's glossy black finish, and Michael could clearly see the mirror image of his face staring back at him. He casually brushed his short, brown hair to the side and adjusted his blue-framed glasses before placing his hands on the keys. They felt as smooth as glass beneath his fingers, and he began to softly play the underlying piano melody that accompanied the song's lyrics, while reading the sheet music that he wrote by himself on his iPad.
His focus was suddenly interrupted by someone lightly knocking on the door. The door swung open a few seconds later, and Michael turned his head to see who was there.
A fifteen-year-old boy stood in the open doorway. He had shoulder-length brown hair, green eyes, and a muscular build. He wore a Judas Priest T-shirt, along with faded blue jeans and black sneakers. It was Michael's best friend, Jason Hill. He slowly walked into the room and sat down on a nearby chair.
"What is it, Jason?" Michael asked him.
"Well, I was just wanting to see what you were up to," Jason replied. "I know you're on your spare period, and I figured you'd be here, as usual." He looked at the sheet music on Michael's iPad. "Are you writing a song?"
"As a matter of fact, I am," Michael said with a smile. "It's called 'Planet X', and it will be over fifteen minutes long."
"Oh my gosh!" Jason blurted loudly, and he stood up from the chair almost as fast as one can blink. "I'm not sure who would even have the patience to listen to anything of that length!"
Michael told him, "People who listen to bands like Dream Theater, Rush, and Genesis will happily listen to long songs like this. Don't forget, I also write shorter songs as well, if you want something that's a bit more concise."
"Oh, okay," Jason said with a hint of a smile. "Well, I'll just let you carry on with your composition. We can talk later. Besides, I have to be at my English class in three minutes."
"Is it that time already?" Michael asked. Jason didn't need to answer, since Michael was glancing at his watch. The display read 10:57 AM. "Crap! I need to get going as well! Math is my next class."
Jason hastily waved goodbye to Michael before sprinting down the hallway, leaving him alone in the room. Michael shoved his iPad into his backpack, closed the piano's lid, and ran down the hallway in the same direction that Jason was heading.
He rushed from corridor to corridor, weaving his way in and out of hundreds of students who were walking in each and every direction. After ascending two flights of stairs, he darted down a shorter hallway, and he stopped in front of the fourth door to the left. It was a frosted glass door, and beside it was a brass plaque which displayed the room's number, 219. No one else had showed up yet, much to his surprise.
"Hmm," Michael said to himself. "Math is my favorite class, but I've never been the first one to reach the door until now. The others are all gonna be late, I know it."
As soon as the numbers on his watch changed from 10:59 to 11:00, the door swung open, revealing a nearly empty classroom with five rows of long tables. Other than Michael, the only person who was present was his math teacher, Mrs. Scheffer. She was a skinny, middle-aged woman with long, silver hair and thick-rimmed glasses that nearly covered half of her face. She wore a light-blue golf shirt, tan jeans, and black high-heeled shoes.
"Ah, I'm glad you made it in time," she said in a quiet but sincere tone. "I hope you're ready for today's lesson."
"I always am, Mrs. Scheffer," Michael said reassuringly as he adjusted his glasses. He took his seat at the frontmost table, and slowly but surely, more students trickled in until all twenty-nine were present.
"Sorry we're late," one of the students near the back of the room apologized as he sat down. "This one person in the hallway was—"
"'Sorry' won't cut it for me, Sam," Mrs. Scheffer said sternly. "Please don't make any more excuses like that again. Now, class, today we will focus on solving first-degree algebraic equations involving one variable, including equations with fractional coefficients."
Michael grinned in excitement as Mrs. Scheffer switched on an overhead projector, and she tapped the screen of her iPad a few times to make it sync to the projector. As she spoke, she began writing her notes on the iPad with a special pen, and they appeared on the whiteboard in front of the class.
After her brief lecture, she grabbed a stack of papers in her hand, and she walked around the room, handing a worksheet to each student. The stack gradually became smaller and smaller, and Michael received the last worksheet. On it were a series of algebraic equations, and Michael instantly tackled the first equation. Just twenty minutes later, he had finished the entire worksheet.
"I'm done," he told Mrs. Scheffer, who promptly took the completed worksheet from him. Meanwhile, everyone else was nowhere near done with their work.
"I'm not surprised," she mumbled as she grabbed a red pen, checking his answers. A few other people managed to hand in their worksheets before the bell rang to signal the end of the period.
"You did a great job, Michael," she said as he was about to leave the room with everyone else. She handed the worksheet to him, and an "A+" was written in red ink near the top right-hand corner.
"Thank you so much," Michael replied, stuffing the sheet into his backpack. "Have a great weekend, Mrs. Scheffer!" He waved goodbye to her and ran back into the hallway, which was once again packed with students.
The rest of the day was rather uneventful. During the lunch period, Michael sat alone in the cafeteria and played video games on his PSP. In English, he was working on a book report of "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley since he loved to read dystopian novels. His day ended with a double-period metalworking class, where he learned how to properly and safely use an arc welder to weld two pieces of steel blocks together.
Once school was over, Michael promptly left the building to begin heading home, which only consisted of a fifteen-minute walk. His route normally led him down a long, residential street with large, modern homes on either side, but this time, he decided to take a different path, which stretched past a long strip mall with dozens of shops. As he turned onto this path, he felt a series of vibrations in his pocket, along with a very loud ringtone reminiscent of an old-fashioned phone from the 1950's. He took out his iPhone and swiped a finger across the screen.
"Hello, it's Mom," a female voice greeted. "How are you, honey? How was school?"
"I'm great, Mom, thanks," Michael replied. "As for school, I just have my book report to continue working on, and as usual, math was excellent. We did some more algebra, and you can probably guess how I did on my assignment."
"You passed," his mother assumed.
"I didn't just pass," Michael boasted. "I passed with flying colors. I got an A-plus."
"Great job, as always," she congratulated him. "I'm proud of you. Well, I actually called to let you know that your dad and I won't be home until two in the morning, since we have a special event to attend."
"What kind of event?" Michael inquired, his curiosity starting to grow. He was surprised that she had never told him about any kind of upcoming event recently.
"Well, one of your dad's closest coworkers is having his wedding ceremony tonight," she said, "and we are excited to go."
"Congratulations," Michael responded. "Make sure you tell the groom that I said that."
"I will," his mother said. "Have a great evening, Michael. There's a sushi platter in the fridge if you wish to have some of it."
"Oooh, I love sushi!" Michael said, rubbing his chest. "Thank you so much. I'll see you tomorrow morning, I guess. I love you, Mom. Good bye." He tapped the "End Call" button to end the conversation.
He put his iPhone in his pocket and took a moment to observe the area around him. Cars, trucks, vans, buses, and bicycles were steadily moving along the street in both directions, and just as he began to walk past a liquor store in the long, narrow strip mall, his phone emitted a short chime. He stopped walking and pulled the device back out of his pocket to check what he had received. It was a text message from Jason.
Hey, sorry about the short notice (because as you know, I'm terrible at planning social events), but I'm just reminding you that it's my 16th birthday tomorrow! Since it also happens to be on Halloween, feel free to dress up in whatever kind of costume you want. The party will be held at my place, 6 Stone Rd, at 6:30 PM. Please RSVP, and I hope to see you there tomorrow! :D
"Oh, no," Michael whispered to himself, as a feeling of worry took over him. "I don't know what to get him for a birthday present, and the party is tomorrow! I need to think of something fast. Maybe since I'm here, I could investigate some of the stores to find something to buy for him."
The first few stores were a women's clothing shop, a jewelry store, and a hardware store. Michael walked right past them, knowing that nothing in any of those stores would be of interest to Jason.
He soon came across a store that was named "Cash For Gold". The front door certainly looked like it had seen better days, since a sizable portion of the red paint had been peeled off, revealing several spots of brown rust. Judging by the prices on some of the items that could be seen through the store's large windows, he assumed the place was a pawn shop.
"Nope, I'm certainly not buying anything from there, since it looks rather sketchy," he muttered, turning his head away from the window that he was looking through. He was about to continue walking home when he heard a faint noise.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
"Sounds like...drums," Michael said, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. He caught sight of a bright-red Ferrari as it sped down the road with its sound system cranked to the max. "Forget it. It's probably just that person's music." His gaze followed the car as it stopped in front of a red traffic light, and when the light turned green, the car's engine roared loudly as it sped off into the distance. The sound of the turbocharged engine eventually faded away, but the faint sound of drums still pervaded the air as if the car had never left in the first place.
"Am I hallucinating or something?" Michael asked himself in confusion. The drumming noise was starting to give him the creeps, and he began to feel as if he had walked onto the set of a horror movie. What's even worse was that it seemed to be coming from inside the derelict pawn shop.
Desperate to locate the source of the sound, Michael steeled himself and entered the shop. The door creaked loudly on its rusty hinges as he slowly opened it, and it creaked again when he closed it. The store was filled from wall to wall with various items, including old TV's, used clothing, comic books, antique furniture, and a rack of china tableware. The air inside the shop was rather stuffy, and it reeked of cigarette smoke.
A frail man who had to have been in his early eighties was walking around the shop with a vacuum cleaner, sucking up a thin layer of dust that covered nearly every square foot of the floor. There was no one else in the store except for him.
Suddenly, much to Michael's surprise, the drumming stopped as if someone had pressed the pause button on a stereo. The man turned off the vacuum and hobbled towards Michael, stopping just two feet in front of him.
"May I help you, sir?" he asked in a croaky voice.
"I...I thought I heard a drumming sound," Michael nervously replied, "and I had a feeling it was coming from your store, so that's why I stopped by to investigate."
"I don't know what you're talking about, boy," the shopkeeper said to him. "I can hardly hear nothing anymore, yeh know. I'm very old, and I only have about nine or ten customers who stop by on a good day. There are even days where I don't have any at all, so it's just me, standing alone in this place. I'm sad to say, but my store will be closing for good very soon, due to low sales and revenue."
"I'm very sorry to hear that," Michael responded, but the man immediately pointed a bony finger at his face.
"Don't feel sorry for me, please," he told him. "As I said, I'm old. I've been working here for over forty years. When the previous owner passed away a decade ago, he put me in charge, and that's how it's been to this very day. It's about time that I move on as well."
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
"There!" Michael exclaimed as the sound of African drums filled the air once again. "Don't you hear those drums?" The man shook his head, and he looked at Michael as if he was going insane.
The drumming grew louder and louder, and before long, the beats were so loud that he clamped his hands to his ears, but it was all in vain. He looked at the man to see that he was yelling at him, but he couldn't make out a single word. He might as well have been watching one of those old silent movies, but with skull-shattering drumbeats to accompany the scene. Finally, the man grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something on it. He showed it to Michael: PLEASE LEAD ME TO WHERE THIS SOUND IS COMING FROM.
Michael nearly stumbled as he began to lead the shopkeeper towards the back of the store. They carefully navigated around a case of glass ornaments, and before long, Michael spotted a relatively large cardboard box that was sitting on a dust-covered metal shelf, right beside the door which led to the "employees only" section of the store. The drumming stopped as quickly as it started, and he sighed in relief.
"The drums are gone now," Michael told him. He pointed to the box. "I have a feeling they're coming from inside there."
Michael picked up the box, which was about as heavy as he was expecting it to be from its size. The flaps were sealed with a wide ribbon of clear tape. He rotated the box in his hands, and he noticed a small, white sticker on one side of the box, which was accompanied by a barcode. The sticker read, "Jumanji - A Mysterious Board Game", and the price was just $4.99.
"Ah, I see that you've found a most interesting artifact," the shopkeeper spoke. "I forgot that it was in my shop."
Michael was about to say, "Well, clearly you need to keep better track of your own store's inventory," but he kept it to himself.
"Now I understand what you're talking about," the shopkeeper said, and a smile began to creep across his face. "This game has a little story behind it. Nineteen years ago, in 1996, two girls from Montreal were on vacation here, and they found this board game half-buried in the sand on a nearby beach. They also said they heard drumbeats as they approached it, so that means you weren't the only one. They chose not to play it for some reason, so they dropped it off at my shop. We bought it in exchange for a rather large amount of cash, expecting it to sell quickly as a collector's item, but none of our customers wanted to purchase the game. Therefore, it has been sitting here ever since those girls dropped it off, and its value has depreciated over time, hence the reason the game is so cheap now."
"So no one wanted to buy it?" Michael asked, and the man slowly shook his head.
"No one wanted to buy it," he replied, and his voice showed more enthusiasm as he continued to speak. "Over the years, some children claimed to have heard drumbeats coming from this store, but of course, I never believed them, and their parents didn't let them attempt to find out where the sound was coming from, since they didn't believe their children either."
"So you're saying that adults can't hear the drums, but children can?" Michael questioned.
"Apparently that's the truth," the shopkeeper said, looking away. "So, what do you want to do? Would you like to buy it? If so, I'll cut you some slack and let you buy it outright. No haggling is required this time, since I just want this item to be gone from my store. I just feel so relieved that someone is finally willing to buy the game after all these years, so if you decide to purchase the game, you'll be taking a hell of a burden off my shoulders."
"Well, I'm stuck on what to get my best friend for his birthday," Michael admitted, "and I don't see any harm in buying him a simple board game, even if it is a little on the mysterious side. We spend lots of time playing video games together, so I want to change things up a little bit." He walked over to the counter where the cash register was located, and he placed the box onto it before removing his wallet from his back pocket. He dug a five-dollar bill out of the wallet and handed it to the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper carefully put the box into a white plastic bag and gave it to Michael.
"Have a good night," the shopkeeper said, feebly waving his hand as Michael walked towards the door.
"You too." Michael waved back before exiting the store. Now that he had finally purchased a birthday present for Jason, Michael continued his journey home. Once he got there several minutes later, he unlocked the door and walked inside. True to his mother's word, the place was completely empty and silent. He was alone.
Michael took his shoes off and ran towards the kitchen, and he put the plastic bag onto the floor. He lifted the box out of the bag, and he slashed the tape apart with a paring knife. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer as he opened the flaps and looked inside the box, which was full of styrofoam. He laid the box horizontally on the floor before removing the styrofoam, only to find another box inside. This one was made of darkly-stained wood. He carried the wooden box to the dining room and carefully set it down onto the table.
The top of the box was emblazoned with an intricate design that was made with a lot of care and craftsmanship. Nearly the entire bottom half of the design was covered with ferns, and the top half consisted of a mountain range, and one of the peaks was emitting a thick stream of smoke, as if it was going to erupt any second. In each corner, there was an egg-shaped circle that framed a portrait of either an animal or a human. The top left circle was occupied by a person who wore a pith helmet. To his right was a monkey, and its long tail was curled up behind it. On the bottom right-hand corner, a menacing elephant could be seen, with one of its tusks clearly visible in front of its trunk. Lastly, on the bottom-left, there was a rhino with its single horn proudly pointing upwards. In the very center, a spear ran through the middle of a single word: "JUMANJI".
"I can't believe I bought this game for so cheap," Michael said as he ran his hand over the design, feeling each and every contour, bump, and indentation. With a click, he opened the lid, and it flipped over to one side of the board. He then realized that there were actually two separate lids, and he opened the other one, which flipped over to the other side, revealing the game's playing surface in its entirety. There were four paths made from white stone tiles, and they crisscrossed over each other in a serpentine fashion. Each path started at one of the board's four corners, and all four paths led towards the center of the board, which featured a black crystal orb.
The inside of both lids had large text printed on them, but Michael decided not to take the time to read it yet. Without saying a single word, he closed the box and took it downstairs to the utility room in the basement, where he found a drawer with several rolls of wrapping paper. He chose a roll of black paper that had the words "Happy Birthday" written on it, complete with colorful pictures of balloons and streamers. He placed Jumanji into an oversized shoebox and wrapped it up, and then he made a simple birthday card to accompany it.
"Well, that was quite a day," Michael said a few minutes later as he took the sushi platter out of the fridge, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he reflected on the day's events. "School went well, I got an excellent score on my math assignment, I got a start on composing my new song, and I bought Jason his, uh, birthday present. Something tells me that the party tomorrow will be rather...extraordinary." He grabbed a piece of sushi with salmon inside and took a tiny bite, and then another, allowing himself plenty of time to savor its taste until it was finally gone.
He briefly washed his hands and grabbed a blue envelope from one of the cabinets. He slid Jason's birthday card into the envelope and sealed it shut before writing a simple "Happy Birthday" message on the front of it. He placed the envelope on top of Jason's present before helping himself to another piece of sushi. The platter was half-empty by the time he decided to finish, and he put it back into the fridge for his parents to finish the other half.
For the next two hours, Michael played Grand Theft Auto V on his PlayStation 4, but even while preoccupied by the mission he was currently on, he couldn't help but worry that he made the wrong purchase.
"It was only five dollars," Michael told himself in an attempt to shrug his worries off. "If there are any problems with this game, I'm certain that Jason will let me send it to someone else who would like to have it. If I—" His sentence was suddenly interrupted by the sound of his iPhone ringing once again. The display read, "Jason Hill would like FaceTime..."
About three seconds after accepting the call, Jason's face appeared on the screen. He was sitting in an armchair in his bedroom, wearing pajamas and eating from a large bag of Doritos.
"Hello, Mike," Jason drawled. "Did you get my text from earlier?"
"Yes," Michael answered, "and I'm sorry I haven't replied yet."
"That's okay," Jason said, smiling. "So, are you coming to the party?"
"Of course I am!"
"What will you be wearing?" Jason asked him.
Michael thought about it for a few seconds before making his decision. "I want to go as a rock star again."
"But you dressed up as one last year!" Jason cried. "Come on, buddy, wear something different this time!" Michael sighed and shook his head.
"Listen," Michael told him. "I'm getting tired, and I don't want to rush myself with putting together a new costume. I hope you understand."
Jason popped another chip into his mouth and bit into it with a loud crunch. "No worries, my friend. I do understand. Thanks for letting me know that you're coming to my party, and I'll see you at 6:30 tomorrow evening! Smell ya later!" Michael chuckled in response, and he gave his best friend a thumbs-up before ending the call.
"Well, I guess it's about time that I go to bed," he muttered as he ended his game and shut down the PS4. He ran to his bedroom, which was located just off to the side of the basement stairs. The room was a mess. The bedsheets were haphazardly draped over one side of his double bed, a heap of clothes were on the floor near his dresser, and his desk was cluttered with more than a dozen old receipts from fast-food restaurants and convenience stores.
Michael quickly changed into his pajamas, and he didn't bother to brush his teeth before turning off the lights and climbing into bed. Once he laid down, he adjusted the bedsheets so that they were in a relatively comfortable position, and after removing his glasses, he closed his eyes, propping his head sideways on the pillow. Before long, he was sound asleep. He dreamt that he was watching Jason unwrap his birthday present, and a vicious thunderstorm suddenly began to take over the sky. A torrential downpour soaked the neighborhood, and dazzling bolts of lightning lit up the atmosphere, but instead of hearing thunder, Michael heard the pounding of Jumanji's drums.
Author's note: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my story! I was trying my very best to describe the day's events just enough to introduce you to Michael and how he came across Jumanji, but I didn't want to go into too much detail about the mundane aspects of the day, because that would have made for a very boring chapter. Rest assured, the next chapter will be a lot more interesting, so stay tuned! :)