Hmm... enjoy this.
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to Barrat and Fielding. Never me.
Chapter 2- The Zooniverse
The zoo opened in autumn, the next year. It was owned by a bloke called Tommy who liked cheese as much as he liked animals. Howard handed in his notice at the café with little regret, and applied for a job as a zookeeper.
All this time, the Gift was still in his coat pocket. It had survived several washes, a fair amount of crumpling/squashing, and being sat on numerous times. (So all this paragraph has done is prove that Howard hasn't bought a new coat for three years.) Howard had yet to find the Gift, because it was very small. Actually it was colossal, but didn't take up much room.
Anyway, he went for an interview. Tommy listened patiently to Howard's long explanation of how he wanted to do something amazing for the animals and was interested in their wellbeing as much as his own. Then he had given his verdict, and listened impatiently to Howard's explanation that he was practically on the streets, as a failed musician, who couldn't possibly crawl back to café after he had told the owner that he was moving on to bigger and better things than some grotty café and also where to stick his cleaning rota.
This didn't work. The Small Green People were getting quite desperate now. It was important that Howard got a job here, and the great Northern Plank had still not found the present they had given him, and so couldn't see them yet.
Tommy was politely but firmly showing Howard the door. Howard was putting his coat back on and shoving his hands in his pockets. Then he felt the present.
"At last," breathed a Small Green Person.
You must remember that, prior to this, Howard had sort of accidentally sold his soul to the Spirit of Jazz. But now his hand touched his soul, which had been in his coat pocket for the last eighteen months, stolen back by the Small Green People. And the life ran up his fingers, spreading into his blood, through his veins. Pumping through his blood. Reaching his brain and his heart. Washing away those long days slaving away in the café, the long nights spent in squats and bus shelters.
He was alive. He was Howard Moon. He got the job.
"That took a long time," muttered the other Small Green Person, referring to the year and a half it had taken Howard to find his own soul in his back pocket.
Her companion, who had spoken first, nodded.
"Plank."
Naboo got a job at the Zooniverse too, running a little kiosk for information or if you wanted to buy a crappy little souvenir. He confided in Howard that the gorilla Bollo was actually his familiar, hence why he could talk. Well all animals could talk, but he could speak human as well as gorilla. Life was generally quite pleasant. Howard got to know all the individual Small Green People. He grew quite fond of them, although they tended to laugh at his moustache.
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The years began to go by. After a few years Tommy disappeared. Apparently he fell in the Ocelot pit. The new manager, Bob Fossil, was American. He was brash and slightly dirty. He was also a retard.
It was time for Naboo to pay another visit to the children's home. Both he and Howard had found their presents, so they could communicate with the Small Green People. It was they who told Naboo he should go, and also that he should take Howard. (Not face to face, obviously. They planted the idea in his mind. He knew that it was them of course, as he had received his Gift.)
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Howard drove across London in his ancient Camper Van. Naboo had cast a few spells on it so that it wouldn't run out of fuel on the way there. It took several hours to get there. When they arrived, Naboo used magic to teleport him and Howard into the attic. They didn't want anyone else to know they were there, so knocking at the front door was out of the question.
Naboo knocked at the door, and a voice called "Piss off!" he entered. Howard followed.
Howard found himself in a small dingy bedroom which, due to the grey walls and tiny window covered with bars, gave the impression of being a cell as much as a living space.
A teenager was sitting on the bed, packing a suitcase with clothes that he had probably stolen. He looked up at the two people in the doorway.
"Vince this is Howard, Howard this is Vince." said Naboo, breaking the awkward silence.
"I hate you," Vince hissed at Naboo. "All along I said you'd been, and you'd come back for me, and that I wasn't mad. But they didn't believe me." His voice trembled. "They didn't want me, so they tried to find another care home. But none of them would have me. They all said I was too much hassle. And they don't want to keep me here any more."
"Well you must have found somewhere, because you're packing." commented Naboo. "Have you got foster parents or something, or are you running away?"
He remembered how weak Vince had been on his last visit, and doubted he would get further than the end of the street.
"Neither." said Vince. He fixed his gaze upon the wall above Naboo's shoulder and continued, "They're sending me to an asylum."
Nobody spoke. The silence spiralled horribly. The Small Green People flew on it, riding the empty moments, waiting for something to happen.
"Come and work at the zoo." said Howard suddenly.
Vince stared at him.
"Naboo tells me you have a way with animals." he continued. "You're fifteen now, and you're about to be carted off to a mental-home. They will examine you, then lock you up until you stop claiming that the Small Green People are real."
"Of course they're real." interrupted the boy. "They are my friends. They bring me nice clothes, and they talk to me. They like me."
"Of course they're real." repeated Naboo. "But no-one else can see them here. The only way they can live is by enforcing destiny. They've been trying to get us three at the zoo together for years. That way destiny is fulfilled, and they'll be free. If we don't, they'll just die."
Vince's eyes were full of tears. He held out his hand. The Small Green People flew down. There were four of them. One of them landed on his palm.
"I'll go if it helps you." he whispered. "You saved my life."
Howard, who hadn't heard this, continued. "The people at the asylum will be preventing you from fulfilling destiny. The Small Green People will die. They'll think you've stopped believing in them, and you're sane again. They'll send you to school again."
"I haven't been for ages." said Vince. "The teachers would kill me."
"You'd kill yourself." said Naboo. "I'm sorry Vince, but you won't last long. You're close to death now. If you don't come with us, you'll be dead before you've even taken your GCSEs."
Vince was frozen. His eyes seemed to be full of ice.
"GCSEs aren't important." Howard looked right into Vince's eyes, deep into the vivid blue. "What matters is that Destiny is fulfilled."
"What happens if it isn't?" asked Vince.
"Like we've already said", Naboo replied patiently. "The Small Green People will die, and because you didn't come with us so many things will suddenly never happen. You will get put in the asylum. But they drugs they give you to control your fits and stuff are too strong. You are already affected: Your growth is stunted, you're very weak. Your brain has been numbed almost permanently, and another year of this will kill you. As it is you will always be thick."
"No offence." Naboo and Howard said together.
"None taken," said the boy. He stared at his shoes for a short while. Then he looked up. His face more alive than either Howard or Naboo had ever seen.
"When do we go?" he asked.
So there we are. Howard got his soul back and Vince got a job. That pretty much sums it up.
Author's Note:
Please can I take this opportunity to apologise for certain comments I used to have on my profile concerning my disapproval of Howince, and to remind people that, while excercising my freedom of speech, I am not intending to offend aybody. I am merely taking the liberty of having my own views.
Thankyou.
Yuk. Formal. I wish I didn't write like that. But I can't help it.
