They trudged through the fields, metersticks in one hand, compasses in the other, scoping the territory for their railroad. Their railroad will cut through these plains, and many of the Chiefs believe that that will be the doom of many tribes across the Plains. I see dark clouds gathering pace in the distance…
"Rise and shine, Phineas!"
Candace stood at the door to her brother's room, knocking and giving out a soothing wake-up call.
"Today's the big day! You know, where you'll have to take the train to the Missouri River…" she tried. That got Phineas awake in a heartbeat.
"Already?!" he cried from inside his room. "Hang on, I'll be ready in a few seconds!"
There was the sound of clunking and crashing, and soon, Phineas was bursting out of the door, dressed in a simple black, sleek frock coat and dark trousers, complete with a matching bowler. On his face was the biggest smile she'd seen on him since he'd paid a visit to Mister Edison a few months ago. Candace smiled to herself; it was nice to see her little brother so ecstatic.
"Ready to make the journey, Candace!" he said.
"Really?" she said, hand on her hips, maintaining a look of superiority. "Because I'm certain you promised me something in the morning. Which is right now."
"Oh… I will go and get some breakfast. Ferb'll be happy to fill you in," said Phineas, smirking. He, of course, had completely forgotten about promising Candace to give her a story, and was not very intent on doing so.
"Oh, OK," she said dejectedly. She watched as Phineas quickly dashed to the staircases, when something suddenly crossed her mind.
"Wait! But Ferb doesn't—" she was cut off by the sound of the door slamming shut with a snicker, "talk. Smooth move, Phineas."
She began to try to follow him back out, when suddenly a blonde-haired teenager, not older than herself, emerged from the staircase, and Candace almost crashed into him.
"Oh! Sorry about that, mister…" started Candace.
"Jeremy, miss. Jeremy Johnson. And you?" he asked coolly. Candace, who normally locked herself in her study to write a story, had never seen Jeremy before.
"Um… uh… C-Candace F-Flynn, J-J-Jeremy," she said, her crush instinct taking over her emotions.
"Flynn? So you're the owner?" he asked.
"Y-Ye—I mean, No. Well, I guess… I don't know," she stammered.
"OK, then…" he responded, yet again with a calm voice. "Say, would you like to visit—"
"YES!" she responded. Then she covered her mouth, frantically looking at Jeremy to see if he had noticed. Which of course he had.
"Great!" he responded with a smile.
Meanwhile…
I snickered to myself as I headed out the doors of my humble hotel. Outside, there was already the commotion of residence of Summerside Street commuting to their workplaces, either on carriages or on foot. There wasn't a great amount of commuters, after all, this area was not as densely populated as one might think, but the thin streets were crowded nevertheless. I made my way to a restaurant entitled Mac and Donald's.
I entered the doors of the eating establishment, immediately bombarded by the smell of eggs, bacon, and syrup.
"Ahh… Nothing like breakfast in the morning!" I said to no one in particular.
"Welcome to Mac and Donalds, fine sir!" said a polite waitress at the counter, "Feel free to take a seat."
"Why, thank you, miss…" I said, prompting an answer.
"Stacy, sir, Stacy Hirano," she said.
"Good to meet you, Miss Stacy. I'm Phineas Flynn," I said. With an etiquette bow, I took a seat. Stacy took my order of breakfast to the kitchens, and I waited patiently for the meal to come. Soon, 2 new people had entered.
The smaller one, wearing a plain white shirt and denim pants, raised an eyebrow when he saw me.
"Look, Buford! A person with a triangularly shaped head!" he said to his friend.
"You expect me to believe that non—oh. Wow," said the bigger one, once his eyes found me as well. I privately chuckled; the shape of my head was one of the few things even I could not seem to find a logical answer to.
"Do you mind if we sit here?" asked the smaller one.
"Not at all! It's a free country, after all!" I replied with a smile, but I noticed that he shivered somewhat at the word "it's."
"Are you OK?" I asked.
Yeah, he's fine. The nerd's just got some sort of problem with contractions. Ain't that right, Baljeet?" said Buford. He seemed to relish that he made Baljeet shiver again.
The two took a seat across from the table, and Stacy, the waitress, took their orders quickly. After that there was a somewhat awkward silence, as everyone on the table tried to find something to say.
"So… where are you guys from?" I asked.
"I am from India, and my name is Baljeet Rai," said the smaller one.
"I'm from… err…" started his friend, struggling to remember. "I'm from… I don't know. Why should I care? I'm here now. And my name's Buford von Stomm."
"Really? So you're both from other countries? Must have been a long boat ride," I said to the both of them.
"Oh, you have no idea. The waves and winds were the worst on the way to the Immigration Station, and I didn't have any sense of direction for a while after landing. But I pulled through, then I found this little runt here," he said, pointing to Baljeet. "We hitched a ride to this city, and we've been here ever since."
"Wow. Which Immigration Station did you go to?" I asked.
"Heck if I know," he responded gruffly, "Though I think a few people on the ship mentioned 'York.' Is that a city here, too? 'Cuz there's a York in Britain."
"We don't have a York, but we do have a New York City," I responded. "Actually, I heard that there was going to be a huge statue built there by the port where are the immigrants come flooding in. Shame it hasn't been constructed yet."
"An enormous statue?" asked Baljeet. "Sounds rather unorthodox, and difficult to accomplish. I would imagine that it would take years to complete, and a lot of manpower, as well."
Buford grunted and said to me, "I wouldn't mention anything somewhat related to math to Baljeet. Once he gets going, it'll take a small army to get him to stop."
Suddenly, before our eyes was placed a huge platter of food; fresh bread, cooked chicken, lean beef, ripe fruits, and the sweet, sweet absence of vegetables.
"Woah," said Buford simply as he saw the food placed before him.
"Eat up!" said Stacy cheerfully as she walked away.
"My, oh my! Never have I seen such a large amount of food! What did you order, Buford?!" asked Baljeet.
"I don't know about you, but I'm gonna eat this before Dinner Bell here can take all the meat," Buford said, eyeballing me as I took, with a childish sense of ownership, a lot of the cooked meat. I gave out a little chuckle, then dug in.
For the next few minutes, all that anyone heard or said was the sound of food being crunched. After a several courses, all three of us were well-satisfied.
Stacy came around again, and said, "Well, I hope you enjoyed that. You two can pay, right?" she asked the immigrants specifically.
"Uh… What do you mean by 'pay?'" asked Buford.
"You know, the age old tradition of currency, monetary fines, etcetera etcetera," she replied.
"Um… What if I have no idea what to do?" asked Buford.
A booming, much more different voice answered, "Then I will have to kick you out and inform the police!"
I looked over to where the voice came from, and a disgruntled-looking gentleman was standing at the doorway, brandishing a walking stick, expensive suit and tie, and a top hat to match.
"Woah, woah… I honestly didn't know—" started Buford, but was immediatle cut off.
"No one comes into this restaurant and doesn't pay, sonny. Either you hand over the price of one American dollar per meal, or you get out," he said angrily.
"What's an American dollar?" Buford asked. Baljeet and I facepalmed as the gentleman reached a new level of anger.
"Get out of here!" he practically screamed. I intervened quickly.
"Sir, perhaps I could pay these fellow's meals for them?" I asked.
The gentleman cooled down enough to say, "Fine. But you will have to pay extra for their incompetence and their insulting me."
"Fine with me," I said as I fished out a few dollars from one of my pockets. I handed them to him, then hurried the two immigrants out the door and into the crowd of people outside before the angry gentleman could change his mind.
"Thanks, Dinner Bell, for saving us in there," said Buford, seemingly out of breath.
"No pro—Hey! Since when did Dinner Bell become my name?" I asked him with a laughing smile.
"Since a few seconds ago," Buford replied simply.
"How did you know exactly how to deal with that man?" asked Baljeet. "He is a stern rich gentleman of the country! I heard they are not easy to deal with."
"You get used to it after visiting this restaurant various times," I said with a smirk, "And also, I kind of am a gentleman. In case you couldn't guess."
"You're a gentleman? Aren't you a little young to be a gentleman?" asked Buford quizzically.
"Boy, if I had a nickel every time I heard that, I'd be able to buy the state of Rhode Island," I said. This induced a few chuckles from the two.
"I believe it is necessary we go our separate ways," said Baljeet, looking down in disappointment.
"Aww, really? I could spare you a few rooms at this hotel," I said, but Baljeet held up a hand.
"I do not want you to spend any more of your wealth for us. By the way, I do not believe we ever got your name," said Baljeet.
"Phineas. Phineas Flynn. And I insist. The owner of the hotel I could bring you to wouldn't mind at all. I know I wouldn't," I said, smiling to myself.
"I think we should take the offer, Baljeet. I don't know much about America yet, but judging by how that guy reacted when I told him I didn't know how to pay, I'm pretty sure that not a lot of people would offer free beds," said Buford.
"Oh, alright. Lead on, Phineas," said Baljeet.
Enthusiastically, I led them down the crowded streets to the Summerside Hotel, which, during the day, looked much more pleasing to the eye. Apparently, Buford and Baljeet thought so too, especially when they walked through the doors.
"Are you really sure that the owner of this hotel is gonna give us beds here for free?" asked Buford as he admired the decorations.
"Positive," I said, holding a laugh back. They didn't know yet that I owned the place, and I intended to keep it that way for a few more minutes.
"Oh my! It appears that the ground is flooding!" said Baljeet, pointing to water gushing out of a spot in the middle of the atrium.
"No, No, Baljeet. That's just a water fountain. I actually had a heavy hand in the construction," I said.
"Really?" he said, examining the fountain more closely, "There must be a lot of science in this to make it work. The water must be removed at the same rate that which it is placed into the fountain, so as it does not flood, and neither does it recede to a large extent. The result is a beautiful display of water, moving indefinitely until there is an irregularity in the system."
"Wow. Were you a math prodigy in India?" I asked, although I could hear a groan from Buford.
"Somewhat," he replied humbly.
"I'll take you all to the reception," I said.
"What's a reception?" Buford asked as he followed me. I didn't answer. As we reached the reception desk, Buford let out another groan as he realized no one was here.
"We're gonna have to wait—what are you doing, Dinner Bell?" he said, suddenly realizing that I was behind the counter.
I smiled and said, "Welcome to the Summerside Hotel, managed by Phineas Flynn for approximately 1 year now. An associate of mine has informed me that you two have received a free pass into an administrator's room. You two are Buford and Baljeet, yes?"
The two simply stared in disbelief. Then Buford started to laugh heartily, and Baljeet chuckled along with him. I tried my best to maintain a passive look, but soon I was giggling as well.
"You mean to tell me that this whole time, you owned a building, and now we're allowed to be here as long as your generosity allows for it?" asked Baljeet incredulously, "Why not just tell us beforehand?"
"Where's the fun in that?" I asked simply. Then two new guests entered the atrium via the front doors, holding each other's hands.
"Oh, that was great, Jeremy! I loved how you showed me all around where you work!" said Candace happily.
"Thanks! I thought you would have already seen it, though," Jeremy replied.
"I spend a little too much time in the typewriter's room," she said, "Which would also explain why I haven't seen you around."
I watched as my sister talked with Jeremy, and smiled to myself. Turning back to the two, I said, "So, would you like to be shown to your rooms?"
I was interrupted by Candace, who said, "Oh, hey, Phineas! Ferb's been looking for you; aren't you supposed to be on your way to the Missouri River?"
Realization dawned on me that I was, indeed, supposed to be long gone from here by now.
"The Missouri River? Isn't that very far away?" asked Baljeet.
"Well, yeah, but if I want to actually see the Transcontinental constructed, then I will have to take a carriage there," I said nonchalantly.
"Wait! You are going to oversee the construction of the Transcontinental?! I heard about that, it is supposed to be a major accomplishment! Is there anything else you have not told us about yourself?!" said Baljeet.
"I do, but I've got no time! I need to catch a carriage there now!" I said.
"Can we come with?" asked Buford.
"I don't see why not," I replied. Then I turned to Candace, "We'll be at the Missouri River in a few days, Candace! You're in charge!"
"Never thought I'd hear my younger brother saying that to me," she replied with a giggle. She was still holding hands with Jeremy.
"Alright! If we want any chance to make it to the Transcontinental before they kickstart the operation, its best if we immediately get a carriage!" I said hurriedly.
"Aye, aye, Phineas!" the two said.
All three of us rushed outside, and were confronted by two very familiar faces.
"Ferb!" I said, and we gave each other a brotherly hug.
"I brought a carriage man that I thought you may be able to bear being with for the next few days," said Ferb. At the front of the carriage was the same raedarius that had driven us home the day before.
"Hello, lad! I see you've got a few extra passengers, but nothin's the matter abou' tha'. Now come aboard the carriage, if you lot will, and we will set off for the Missouri River!" the driver said.
We all boarded the carriage, and headed west. As we slowly, almost painstakingly slowly, made our way through the country, the others being surprisingly quiet, I couldn't help but realize that these two new people were going to be with me for the next few days. What adventures might come from that! But, despite the new company, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Then my mind drifted to the two blue eyes I dreamt of last night.
No, the story's not dead. It may seem so, but I'm not giving up on this story. Not now, not ever. I actually have a pretty good explanation, and that involves wifi being disrupted, buying a new TV, getting a few new video games, and being bored, but I feel it not necessary for me to tell all that to you.
Now for the questions you know I won't answer for a few chapters:
Seriously, where's Perry?!
How will this story progress?
Who are the other cameos? Who will they be?
Why am I still listing questions you, the reader, might ask me?
The answer is yes. :P