The Shadower

by Punk19

With their just being returned to Moas, Angel and her sons are trying to settle into their new environment; it's not long before they become stressed by some force that continues to shadow and torment them and it's not long before their family adds more stress to what they're feeling. Who is shadowing them and will he stop to allow them to return to their former, new way of living?

14. Part 2

When he and his family had been on Earth, he had based the time in getting up from when Hazaar set his alarm at; now that he had his very own room, and his very own alarm clock, he was relying on himself to set the clock to the appropriate time to get up. His alarm was set for its usual time—eight a.m.—but he found himself as getting up earlier than that. The hand that shook him from dreamland did so right when the time on his B-17 Jet Aircraft Military alarm clock turned from being 5:29 to 5:30; he grumbled, but he didn't snap at the one who woke him three hours before he was scheduled to do so.

After pushing himself up, then rubbing the sleep out from his eyes, he looked around; he was stunned beyond words after seeing that his father was in his room and that he had been the one to wake him up.

"Get up, and get dressed quickly." he heard his father say.

"Why?" his sleep-clogged voice asked.

"Don't ask questions, son. Just do as I say and quick."

His father, while on the way out, turned the light on; he blinked his eyes a few times before throwing the sheets from him then going on to his dresser.

The last two days had been a bit chaotic for him and his family; the reporters, who had docked their boat at the pier and then come rushing towards Bile and Hazaar, had shown all that they had captured on film on the news. All sorts of could-be's had been spoken of on them, and all sorts of "experts" had weighed in on what they thought was going on in the mansion. After word was spread about their being seen outside, a slew of reporters, riding all sorts of boats, had come in from the ocean. They had either docked their boats at the pier or waited at sea to see if another sighting of them occurred; the old man had not been happy over seeing his land being trespassed on, or over his family being harassed—the old Foggy, while saying nothing after they started coming in, hadn't been happy after seeing them as using his pier or after seeing their numbers as growing within each half-hour to hour. Dad had gone out at one o'clock to see if he could speak to the people about vacating his property; when the nice routine didn't work, and they remained docked on his pier, he went out again—but, this time, he hadn't been nice or pleasant with them. He had been right mean and forceful with the ones who had docked their boats on his pier and with the ones who he had deemed as being too close to the shore that he owned. When the mean and forceful routine didn't work, he had retrieved a weapon and then gone out—he had threatened to take each and every one of them to court for harassment and trespassing charges.

The act of his having a gun on his person had done wonders in making the ones who had docked on his pier to move away; a little more persuasion had needed to be done for the ones who had been too-close to the shore had needed to be done after the pier-users vacated the pier. The reporters had moved to about twenty feet from the shore—as far as he knew, they were still out there and at that distance today. According to Hazaar, the gun that the old man had wielded, and then shot towards the sky after seeing himself as not being taken seriously, was a Stevens Conlin Target Pistol—a type of gun that was a single-shot and that had been made between the 1920's and the 1940's.

He and his brothers had taken what Hazaar had said for granted; Hazaar had watched several programs on guns while on Earth over the past few years, so he was pretty smart about guns.

The models that they had gotten two days ago had been done; each was now on display in their rooms. Their mother, as a way to keep them calm when the trespassing reporter situation occurred, had made another trip to Earth.

A model kit of the Spirit of Mississippi had been retrieved for him; the model was based off the historic riverboat called the Spirit of Peoria, which was a cruiser that was still, on occasion, seen cruising the Mississippi River. It was a big model and he was doing the best that he could in putting it together—there were a lot of parts to it so he had to be careful of what all he did with it. At the moment, he had the lower body and a quarter of the first and second levels done; he was planning on putting the paddlewheel, the steam engine, and the ornately decorated smokestacks on last. The cabins, with their various items, was what was keeping him from saying that the model was complete—each cabin had all the fixin's, like beds, dressers, couches, and bathroom items like toilets, sinks, and mirrors, to them; he was doing each cabin as he came upon them.

The boat's second level was said to have a bar on it; the stickers that were associated with the bar's various items had already been placed on their items. He was hoping to get to doing the bar today. Tomorrow, he was hoping to do the ballroom, which was on the boat's first level—tables with chairs; a piano; and a stage, where a feminine plastic figure was suppose to stand on, and that a microphone was already on, went with that part of the model. The game room, that was on the model's top level, was going to be the easiest of the levels to build—a pool; game tables, that had card games already glued on them; benches; a croquet game, that came complete with all the fixin's that were associated with the game; and more than enough flags and banners went with this part of the model. All of this and more—the plastic barrels, the crates, the other figurines that had come with the model, the lounge chairs, the life preserves, the chains, the lights, and the lines that would further stabilize the model, and the ladders—went with the model. He was hoping to do it up good as it was a better than grand model and it would look nice in his room. His brothers were looking forward to seeing his model after it was complete and, really, so was he.

Lhaklar had gotten two new models; the resin model of the 1929 Bentley 4.5 Litre had been done quickly—his brother had painted that baby a nice, shiny green color. The next model that he had done had taken them all by surprise—ma had gotten him a model kit of the vehicle that was owned and driven by Nemo in The League of Gentlemen; Lhaklar had wasted no time in putting that piece of art together. Except for the grille, the hubcaps, the fenders, and the head and tail lights, his brother's second model had been painted an all white color. Lhaklar had no more opened the box to the Nautilus before finding a 50% off coupon for the the Munster Koach—a vehicle that had been used in the show, The Munsters—and he had no more finished the Nautilus before showing their mother it. Along with saying the usual on if he behaved for the next few days, and caused no mishaps to occur between he and his brothers, she had said that she'd "see" about getting him the model.

A steampunk train model, that looked like a freaky representation of a train-submarine hybrid, had been purchased for Hazaar; the model had come with the engine and three cars... Hazaar had been fast in breaking open the box and in going to work in putting it together. As of last night, he was close to being done with the engine.

Bile, who had gotten no models to do a few days ago, had also gotten a few models; the model of an alien monster, who was holding a near-naked woman, who was bound and gagged, in its arms, had been done in one day while the model of Freddy Krueger, who had all the souls trying to come out from his chest, stomach, and shoulders, he was still doing. Dad had been fast in giving their mother a warning on not bringing anymore models like that of the monster who was holding the near-naked woman back for one of them to do again—ma had done a "mischievous" smile before saying of course dear.

"Even though she's still being a brat, Eshal was also given something." he thought while getting into the shower that was in the room's adjacent bathroom.

A plush toy of a tiger cub, that one had to build, had been given to Eshal before the model kit of a horse, that had its neck craned high, and a better than noticeable crest on it, had been shown and then handed over. Eshal had yet to get to the plush toy; the model horse she had made up to resemble one of their father's stallions—it had been painted a "flea-bitten" gray color and it had a "creamy" mane and tail. According to his sister, the horse that she had based the model on was called Rhoosod.

He showered, then brushed his teeth, then got dressed, then left his room; the dark gray mesh shirt, and the dark red jeans, that were ripped on the left knee only, but that were pretty well ripped on the hems, were him to the core while the dark grey shoes, that had a light grey stripe on their sides, were near-new. He was just starting in on making his bed when his mother walked in; she, who looked to be in a big hurry, beckoned for him to come on and he, not wanting to make any disputes with her, complied with her wish.

"What's going on?" Lazeer asked his mother.

"You'll know in just a few minutes" his mother replied.

She was very nicely dressed, and it looked like she had spent a little time in making herself look "pretty"; the makeup that was on her eyelids, lips, and cheeks was slight, yes, but he was able to see it. The pair of dark blue harem pants had a frill around their waist; the band that was on the frill, while being a faux gold color, contrasted rather well with the main color of the piece of clothing. The blue, slip-on shoes, that were on her feet, went well with her worn pants and so did her shirt—ma looked good in anything but, at the moment, she looked better than stupendous in her baby blue chiffon shirt, that had a ruffled front and that was lacking its sleeves. The blue topaz and bead necklace, that was around her neck, had come from him; he was glad to see that she was wearing it and he was also glad to note that she was wearing the bracelet that had come with the necklace as well. The piece of jewelry that was his mother's wedding ring was on its finger; on the middle finger of that same hand was a blue sapphire ring that had a gold band on it—personally, he thought that the second ring was pale in comparison to her wedding ring.

Even though he wanted to know what was going on, and why he had been aroused from a too-early sleep, he kept his mouth shut; he was sure that he'd find out soon enough about what was "in store" for him that early morning.

He followed his mother down the third level's hallway, then down the stairs that connected the third level to the second, then down the hallway that was on the second level before stopping; she had put a pause to leading him after reaching the open door that belonged to the room that she and his father slept in—she was now a frequent sleeper in that room and he was quite sure that, if not now then soon, he'd have a new sibling in her stomach. With a woman as beautiful as her, it was hard to believe that his father wasn't "doing her". She went into the room, then piddled around for a minute or two, before leaving; he resumed his prior action of following her after she started down the hallway again.

"Either it's me or it's cold in here." he thought after reaching the foyer. With everyone either still being in bed, sleeping until their alarms went off, or still doing their morning routines, the mansion was rather chilly and it had a bit of a creepy feeling to it.

He had just suppressed a shiver when his father walked into view; it took him all but a second to see that he had something draped over his arm. He could see the striped, dark gray tuxedo jacket but he could also see that there was some sort of something hanging from it.

"We have fifteen minutes," TazirVile said after gesturing for them to follow him out the front door.

"Will we make it?" Angel asked.

The question of 'will we make it' buzzed around in his head like annoying mosquitoes—where were they going and what was it that his father had in store for them?

A fine, but quite heavy, mist was hanging over the artificial blue grass of the front yard; while he wanted to stop, and take in what he was seeing, he knew that he shouldn't. If they were to "make it" to wherever they were going then sightseeing wasn't allowed—he could stop and count the roses after what was in store for him and his mother was known and then attended.

Something told him to walk beside his mother, and to not speak or ask any questions; he was nervous, and a bit scared, but he knew that, with his mother being nearby, he was going to be fine. If it had just been he and his father, he might of been a bit slow in following him, and he would, without a doubt, be very nervous of what all he was headed towards. The crazy idea of his being taken to a doctor, who would perform a surgery that would evict his photo sensitive eye, crossed his mind twice while on the way to the garage; the idea of his father sending him to some sort of educational facility, so to get rid of him so he could father offspring that he could do a better imprint on, also crossed his mind but it wasn't as strong as the one about the surgeon taking his left eye out. He was just remembering the fact that the reporters were still stationed at the front gate and fence when he realized that he was in a large structure—the surface under his feet was concrete, the ceiling and walls were a dull goldish-brown color, and there were more than enough vehicles in the building to keep one happy for a while. A quick glance told him that there were more than fifty vehicles in the building; they were all lined up in neat rows, and all of them looked rather expensive.

He saw a few Model T-like cars and limousines; a few golf carts, and tractors and riding lawn mowers; and he also saw a bunch of luxurious vehicles that looked to cost a fine penny. Most of the vehicles had a sheet draped over them; the one that his father was going towards looked like one of them Tiffany Classic Coupe's that had been in production from 1986 to 1988—the only difference was that the car was longer than the typical Tiffany Coupe and, once he was able to get in, and then take in the interior, it had four seats instead of just plain two. The car was a right shiny gray color—it was a shade between being gray and silver—and it had two tire mounts on its sides that, he guessed, contained two spare tires.

"Ma..." he said after getting into the car, then taking in its interior.

"Hold on, son." TazirVile said. He pushed the key into the ignition, then applied the seatbelt over himself, then drove them from the garage. "Let me teleport this baby to our location first then you can ask all the questions that you want."

He had just swung the seatbelt over himself, and had just pushed the buckle into the cinch, when the zapping sensation was felt; feeling this freaked him out for all of a few seconds before he calmed down. The zapping sensation was followed by a staticky sound, that only elevated his stress levels, then a near-blinding white light was seen before the destination that they were being taken to was seen—he had never gone through such an experience before, which was why he was so nervous about what he was both feeling, hearing, and seeing. Whenever Bile teleported a vehicle, there was a staticky sound, and a slight zapping feeling, but no near-blinding white light was seen and, in fact, his teleportation of a vehicle was right steady and smooth in comparison to what he had just gone through—which, he was quite sure, was the car being teleported to some location that was a distance from "home".

When he looked out the window, that was to his immediate left, he saw that there were cars just before them and that they were on the outskirts of a town; due to the windows being tinted, he wasn't effected by the rays of the star that whatever planet he was on orbited.

The soil, that was on either side of the road, was desert-like in appearance; it was red in color, which did well to bring out the shine in the road, which was yellow. The grass that he was able to see was either brown or yellow in color—it was like the nutrients in the stalks had been depleted, or like he was in a real desert-like environment. The clouds in the sky were orange while the star that the planet orbited was red; the sky looked to match the colors of what was around him—it wasn't two-tone, or three-tone, but a whole sheet of light orange.

His father drove down the street for a short stretch; at first, the buildings of the town were sparse then, after a minute or two passed, they flanked them on both sides. After driving down the street for a few minutes, his father pulled over then shut the car off; for a fraction of a second, he thought that the man was going to tell him and his mother to get out. He imagined his mother's shocked face after they got out, and after the old man drove away, leaving them all by their lonesome, and he also imagined her fury and her concern for his brothers, who's fates weren't known. After ten seconds passed, his father turned to look at him.

"Know where you are, son?" his father asked.

"No,"

"Think a little before you answer so quickly—I'll give you a little clue on where you are. You, your mother, and Lhaklar were seen here a few times in August."

"We were?" Lazeer blinked his eyes then looked out the window. "Ma—"

"Uh-uh, honey. You figure it out." his mother said.

He, his mother, and Lhaklar had visited this place in August? Of that year, or of some year in the present? At the moment, he drew a blank on where he could be—it took him a minute to put some of the puzzle pieces to his father's weird question together.

He and Lhaklar had taken a trip with their mother to two planets that year; one had been in the Zeta Reticuli system while the other had been in the RO-82 Galaxy, which was two to three galaxies away from the Zeta Reticuli system and which was mostly inhospitable to people. He and Lhaklar had mostly followed their mother around; when the chance presented itself, they had taken in the sights, and had rough-housed and goofed around... they had let the bit on their rough-housing go after reaching a park-like setting on one planet while, on another, they had rough-housed in a valley-like area.

He thought about what he had seen as he looked at the area around him after coming up empty on an answer to his father's question. The soil was red, and was desert-like in appearance; the road was yellow; the sky was a light orange color, while the clouds that were in it were a plain orange color; the grass was either yellow or brown in color, and it looked rather zapped of all nutrients; and the star that's rays was giving the planet light and warmth was red.

He was just giving out a sigh, and shaking his head, when the answer to his father's question came to him.

"Zeta Ren?"

"Yes, son. The very planet that the break in my case in trying to find you, your brothers, and your mother occurred on." TazirVile replied.

"Why're we here?" Lazeer asked.

"Your daddy called a man by the name of Navub Babusa early this morning," Angel answered for her husband, who had gone to restart the car. "He set up an appointment for you, which is to happen at six o'clock."

"Navub Babusa? Isn't that the guy who..."

It became clear over why he had been aroused from a sound sleep so early—the old man had wanted to take him to get his goggled glass two days ago but, due to the reporters harassing Bile and Hazaar, and taking their picture, and mom's concern over the reporters possibly playing the grab and then separate routine with him after he appeared on Zeta Ren, that hadn't been able to be done. The old Foggy had, obviously, decided to take him to get his goggled glass today—he was so excited that he could barely sit still!

Navub Babusa had been the man that he and his mother had seen in late-August; mom had heard that he was cheaper than most Optometrists and she had decided to look into him and see if she could get him fitted for his glass. Instead of leaving the building with a glass, that'd permit him to have a normal life in being able to go outside when it was light out, he and she had just left with some medicated drops—which he no longer had due to his using them all up while being on Earth. Mr. Babusa had said that he charged $2,100 for his glasses; while his mother hadn't been able to pay for the glass that he had needed right away she, and Lhaklar, had been working really hard to get the dough squared away so he could get it—his father, who was "bursting at the seams" with cash, might well be able to purchase him a glass, some drops, and a case to go with it.

He saw several buildings, that were either quite tall or that looked a bit too wide for the block that they were on; the rest areas that he was able to see had a few buses in them. They were appropriately sized for their intended use but, curiously, there were no benches or any other sit-on items in them. He saw several grocery and convenience stores after the business buildings passed them by; the restaurants were small in size but looked rather packed of patrons. He was just taking in the pizzaria, that was a strange, red, orange, and green color, when the market was noticed—he had been seen in this market and he had also been chased after being approached by his uncle, Amadh Ubalki, while being in this market... and he had also stolen from this market. Amadh Ubalki had given him a scare and he had run; the magazine that he had had on his person at the time he had meant to return but, due to his fear, and to Amadh's chasing after him, he hadn't been able to return it to the rack that it had been on. He had run off with it and, honestly, he still had it.

It took his father a few minutes to get to the portion of the town where a line of medical buildings were; when the car was pulled over, then slowed to a mere crawl, he came close to groaning. There was a throng of reporters standing all around the building owned and operated by Mr. Babusa. It looked like they had been waiting for them, which gave him a slight scare.

"Taz..." Angel said. She had been content and happy before seeing the reporters; now that she knew that the building that they were going to was virtually blocked by reporters, she was nervous and unhappy. "Maybe we should—"

"Lazeer, if you'll please climb up into the front seat." TazirVile said while shutting his car off. With the key to the ignition removed from the ignition, and being returned to his pocket, he turned to look at his wife. "It'll be alright—had a feeling that the line was tapped both before, during, and after I got through talking to Mr. Babusa."

"I don't like this, Tazir." Angel said. Lazeer clambered over the backs of the front seats; he came close to sitting on her lap after finishing his climb. "You know how reporters are... maybe we should—"

"It'll be fine." TazirVile reassured her. With that said, he reached down to grab the garment that was between his legs. "Son, are you familiar with the invisibility cloak?"

In a sense, his answer to that question was a no. He knew the basics about the garment that his father had just asked him if he knew but he didn't know the full scope about it—it was a garment that, when worn, would make its wearer become invisible. Private investigators, criminals who didn't want their dealings to be noticed by anyone, and normal-day civilians who wanted to surprise someone or keep their activities a secret were said to be frequent users of it. Mr. Uijah Chajol, his old Teleportation teacher at Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic, had done a small side-lesson on the garment one day after the main lesson had been given—ten minutes of listening to him talk about the cloak had happened before the bell tolled; Mr. Uijah Chajol had let him and his classmates make the decision in learning more about the garment.

While he knew the garment's purpose, and some of its history, he had never seen one... or seen anyone using one, for that matter.

"Mr. Chajol did a small lesson on it," Lazeer said. "While I did do a read-up on it I've never seen one, or seen one being used."

"The teachers at that school seem to be skipping a few important lessons—while teaching one about the cloak isn't a necessary it should still be taught for various reasons." TazirVile said. "The cloak, son, is a combination of a special-made, but turned inside out, fabric and a spell—you never see the garment but you can feel it."

"Okay," Lazeer was wondering why his father was telling him this.

"I have one here," TazirVile swung his arms up then over Lazeer. Lazeer felt the heaviness of something fall over him; he felt the garment's fabric, which seemed very light to him, but he wasn't able to see any of it. He poked at what was over him before turning and then looking at his mother.

"Ma?"

"I know you're beside me but I can't see you." Angel said.

"Dad turned me into a ghost!" Lazeer said excitedly. "I get to haunt some people now."

Pillow talk, these past two nights, had consisted of his wanting to get Lazeer his glass and Angel being concerned for their child in regards to the reporters—she was worried about his being scared, or unintentionally hurt, by one of the people who did their reports for the various news agencies while he was quite confident in his abilities over being able to protect their child and keep the situation controlled. While the reporters were getting annoying, and while he was growing increasingly frustrated with their constant presence, he was confident in knowing that they'd not try anything else of what occurred two days ago—and especially not in a public place, where other cameras were tuned in to what was going on and where there were civilian witnesses present. It had taken all of last night for him to convince his wife that all would be fine and that he could take care of anything that happened while they were on Zeta Ren—the question of his leaving Angel behind had not been asked or given any thought; wherever Lazeer, or any of the other boys, went their mother was surely to go along with.

Unlike he, who hadn't been understood about his little problem, Lazeer was understood and he had someone to assist him in getting him what he needed for his ailment to not effect him when he was out in broad sun or ray-light. When his P.S.E had been discovered, his father had been at home while his mother, who he had inherited his ailment from, hadn't; his father, who had known nothing about P.S.E at the time, had put him through more than enough hell with the eye-care specialists that he had hired to look into his care—pain, and a whole hell of a lot of it, had been experienced with each of them ten eye-care specialists and his father, being the too-tough bird that he was, had done nothing but yell at him to pipe down and suck it in. His mother, after returning home from visiting relatives, had set his father straight on what was going on with him; the "eye-care specialists" had no longer come to the house to see him... he had been taken to Zeta Ren, then to an appropriate eye-care specialist, who had described his ailment and then prescribed him the adequate gear that he had needed. His son wasn't about to experience what he had; he wasn't about to go through ten "eye-care specialists", or through the pain that they'd cause him to go through, and he wasn't about to be told to "pipe down" or "suck it in" either. Lazeer was also not going to be forced into sitting under the shade, or sit things out because of the sun, or star or spheres, that his home-planet orbited were out and in the open. He had gotten up two hours ago; a phone call to Navuba Babusa had been made, then an appointment had been scheduled, then he and his wife had taken a shower and then gotten dressed, then Lazeer had been aroused.

The telling of his having an invisibility cloak on his person had taken care of most of his wife's anxiety. If all went well with Lazeer's appointment, and if his wife and son felt up to it, he had plans to take them, and their brothers and sister, out for a meal—home-cooked food was the best food one could consume but, on occasion, it was best to add in a little restaurant made food into one's diet; it was time to get his sons a little acquainted with the socializing game and what better way to do that than to take them out for a meal.

"Alrighty folks, let's tie the laces and buckle the belts." TazirVile said while opening the door to the driver's side of his vehicle. "Let's go."

TazirVile plopped his hand on his son's head before getting out of his vehicle; his son slid out behind him while Angel got out from the vehicle's other side. It took all but a second before he noticed where his son was—the boy had "bumped" into him in his haste to get out of the vehicle then he had run around the vehicle to his mother; the back of his wife's shirt had an indent on it from where his son had grabbed it. While he was able to see this, and detect the reason to why there was a clump sticking out from the back of his wife's shirt, the reporters weren't—all of the reporters ran over to him; they asked him a slew of questions, and they stuck their microphones in his face, while his wife and their son were able to enter the building unscathed. He followed them to the building a minute and a half to two minutes later. Once in the building, he grabbed his son's cloak then pulled it off him; the cloak was given to his wife, who silently draped it over her arm.

"Mrs. Vile-Surfeit, nice to see you after so long." Navub Babusa, a male Zetakin who had a crown of brown hair, and triangular-shaped eyes that were a golden-brown color, said after seeing the trio in the building.

"Hello, Mr. Babusa." Angel said. "I believe that my husband made an appointment with you."

"Yes, he did." Navub Babusa nodded his head.

Who in their right mind would phone another at 3:30 a.m.? The question had rang around in his head right after his phone went off; he had let it ring until, after the second call came in, rolling over and then picking it up. TZSUR had been on his caller I.D.; he, in his underwear, had answered it, then had answered all of his new client's questions, then had agreed to make the appointment—which would be the earliest made one that he had ever done in his career as an Optometrist.

While he had kept up-to-date on the search, and on what was going on with his late-August customer, he hadn't been able to get as excited as everyone else had been about it; after Mrs. Vile-Surfeit, and her young son, appeared in his building, and then were identified for who they were, he had found himself as being swamped by either news reporters, who had asked him constant questions on his two surprise customers, and new patients. He had experienced a boom in patients for all of two months before the normal patient-flow returned—with his having double his usual clientele, he had hardly been able to rest much less enjoy any personal time with his family. After two months passed, and his patient-flow returned to normal, he had sighed and then started spending time with his family—all of the excess money that he had made off of his new customers had gone towards his wife and their two daughters and sons, one having been sired by another man but who was being raised by him. A few meals in his family's restaurant of choice had been done; Yoshiah had gotten a few dresses; Falvia and Ica had gotten a few cosmetic interests; and Jeeji and Framad had gotten some of the things that they had been asking for, or showing an interest in. Jeeji, the son sired by a different man, had also been taken a science museum, and then fair, after the patient in-flow returned to normal.

Since he had known that the good times would, one day, come to an end he had put the rest of the money that he had earned through his business into his and his wife's savings, where it was still.

"She said that she'd be back and she held true to that," he thought after checking the name that had been added to his business's sign-in sheet. With that done, he led his customer, and his customer's parents, down the hall then into the room where the examination would take place.

Lazeer, who had been known as Reezal during his first examination, took a seat then placed his head up against the device that the test would be given through. After taking his seat before the boy, then looking through the device's other end, he noted that there was a bit of damage to the eye that he had examined in August—the left eye's coloration was darker, due to its P.S.E, and it looked a bit "burned", which would only happen after prolong exposure to the rays of either a sun or a star occurred. After careful examination, he deduced that the boy's sensitivity hadn't worsened—it was still mild-severe.

He did the sun and ray-light tests—ten tests did the trick in telling him that the boy was effected by all of the known suns and stars in the Universe; with his not wanting to damage the eye further, or cause his patient any further grief, he kept the number of tests down to ten. After doing the tests, he gave him some drops then stood up. The process of making the boy his goggled glass started afterwards.

"You think he tortured me enough, ma?" Lazeer asked. His left eye was throbbing a little, and was giving him a little grief, but he was glad to finally be getting fitted for a glass. The whole ordeal with the examination, and its allotment of tests, had taken a lot out of him—he was exhausted!

"Was wondering that myself." Angel replied. She had forced herself to not rush forward after her son started crying out after the tests were started on him; she knew that the testing was important, but hearing her son scream out like he had had nearly blinded her. "You alright, Lazie?"

"Eye's throbbing a little," Lazeer replied. "but I'm fine."

"You did well, son—ten tests is a good number for your sensitivity." TazirVile said. "Went through double that when I was a kid."

"What's your sensitivity again?" Lazeer asked his father.

"Severe," TazirVile replied. "And in both eyes. You got off lucky with having just one eye afflicted with the ailment, and in a lesser degree as mine to boot."

"What's the difference between mild-severe and severe?" Lazeer asked.

"I'd say about ten times worse than what you got." TazirVile replied.

It took all of ten minutes for Navub Babusa to turn and then show them the lens that he had made for her son; the lens was neatly nestled in a half-wrap elastic band, that was nearly see-through and that resembled her husband's. The lens, she knew, was a molded piece of squishy, rubbery material that was wet on the inside only—a built-in drip system had been placed in the glasses given to people some one to two hundred thousand years ago; her son's eye would be kept moist even while the glass was being worn thanks to that built-in system. Along with knowing this she also knew that the glass was light-weight—it barely had any weight to it that caused the wearer to not recognize the fact that they were wearing it.

Navub Babusa guided her son in putting the glass on; he placed the glass over her son's eye while her son affixed the band around the back of his head. It took him a few times to finally figure out that the half-wrap elastic band had a suction to it that'd keep it from slipping or sliding during the lens's use and it also took him a while to get use to the lens that was suctioned around his sun-sensitive eye. She had only to look at her son's face to know that he was glad to know that the band wasn't obscuring his horizontal mohawk—like Hazaar, Lazeer thought his hair was cool and just about had a hissy fit when anything happened to it.

"Now, like with a normal pair of glasses, it'll take you a little while to get use to the lens." Navub Babusa said after Lazeer had gotten his goggled glass on. "It's perfectly normal if you find that the ground is falling away from you while the glass is in use. If you find yourself as being dizzy, or gaining a slight headache during the first few days of the glass's use, that's also normal. The dizzy feeling, the slight headache, and the feeling of the ground looking to be falling away from you will go away after a few days of the lens's use."

"Thank you," Lazeer said. He felt a little dizzy now but he was dealing with it. "Now I don't have to wait for the sun to set, or to become hidden behind the clouds, to go out. I can go out with my brothers now."

"Your father asked for me to make you four contact goggles as well," Navub Babusa said. The four containers, that contained a single contact lens in them, were given to Lazeer; with that out of his possession, he turned towards the counter. Lazeer gave his mother a look; he remembered telling his father that he preferred a goggled glass over a contact lens while on the ship. Either his father had forgotten what he had said or he had decided to go on and get him a set of contact goggled lenses. "I've also got two replacement specks for you, as well along as three cases and some eye-drops and some medicated drops."

"W-what's the difference between the normal eye-drops and the medicated ones?" Lazeer asked.

"You've got a little bit of exposure damage to the afflicted eye, the medicated drops will speed up the healing." Navub Babusa replied.

Lazeer knew why there was some damage to his sensitive eye—while on Earth, he had been exposed to the sun when he had been fighting his father. His father had also had his sun-sensitive eyes be effected by the sun—either they hadn't been damaged or they had and had already been treated for it. His mother, when they had been en-route to Moas, had asked his grandfather, Cheshire Ubalki, what his sensitivity was; the man's own bottle of issued eye-drops had been used to give him some relief from what he had been feeling at the time.

Mr. Babusa, after giving him the contact goggled lenses, and then the normal eye-drops and the medicated ones, gave him the eye-glass cases—the two, glazed Caiman crocodile cases were cool while the one that was shaped like a peanut, and that looked like a peanut, was hilarious. Mr. Babusa gave his mother a small bag that contained six containers of normal eye-drops and three containers of medicated drops—after she checked the labels, to see if they went with his sensitivity, she nodded her head. Mr. Babusa said that the medicated drops should be applied twice a day; after giving this instruction, he gave a pamphlet that told one how to properly store and care for their contact goggled lenses.

After everything was handed over, his father reached into his striped, dark gray tuxedo jacket; he took out a brown leather checkbook then he filled out a check for $12,300. This was given to the Optometrist, who thanked him, then them for coming over; they were escorted from the room after this was done. He donned the invisibility cloak after they reached the building's lobby then he followed his parents out into the throng of newspaper and news reporters; in all, it took four minutes to reach the Tiffany Classic Coupe—the reporters, in the time that they had been in the building, had grown in size. Even after reaching the car, and then getting into it, he kept the cloak on him.

"Thanks, dad." Lazeer, who had just gotten through taking the invisibility cloak off, said.

"You're quite welcome son." TazirVile said.

"You hand that up now," Angel said. She held her hand back for the cloak. "The last thing that we need is for you to always have that on your person."

"Mom, you know I won't do anything with it." Lazeer lied, he imagined that he could use the garment to do a lot of things with. Driving his brothers insane with it was only scratching the surface; he imagined himself as harassing the ones who worked for his father, his sister, and anyone who was outside of the mansion with it.

"Uh-huh. Lazie, I know you way too well." Angel said. Lazeer sighed, then handed the invisibility cloak up. His mother put the invisible garment on her lap. "Besides driving your brothers crazy with your invisible antics, you'd also drive me, your father, your sister, and the Goblins insane as well."

"We don't need any newspaper articles being written on how you stalked the ladies bathroom while being hidden under the Cloak of Invisibility." TazirVile said.

"That sounds like fun!" Lazeer smiled.

"Don't give him ideas!" Angel shook her head.

"Either of you wish to have a meal at a restaurant, or do you want to go home for breakfast?" TazirVile asked.

Yes, but only if everyone was involved in the outing, they said; he smiled all while teleporting them from where they were to Moas then, after appearing in the car's appropriate slot in his garage, and then removing the key from the ignition, he nodded his head. It looked like daddy had done a better than splendid job in gaining one of his just-returned sons' trust, he couldn't be prouder of himself.

Angel was fast in giving him the invisibility cloak and in leaving the car; Lazeer followed behind her while he was third in line for leaving the car. They went into the house, which they had been away from for about forty-five minutes, then they piddled around until seven-thirty. Once that time came around, he aroused his other sons, and his daughter, from their sleeps; he told them to get ready to go out then he left their chambers—Hazaar's nervousness of him was still present, so he wasn't but so surprised over his anxiety over seeing him in his chamber, while Bile and Lhaklar looked to of gotten over their nervousness of him. His children did their routines in their chambers' adjoined bathrooms, then got dressed, then filed down to the house's first level; Lazeer, in the time that they had been home, had removed his glass. It'd take him a few hours to a day or so to get use to wearing it and, in a few ways, he felt jealous over his son not having it "built" into him about continuously wearing his glass inside—over the years, he had gotten so use to his specks that he put them on automatically after he got up, so he was always wearing them.

Lazeer was wearing his goggled glass when they reached the house's first level; when his youngest son's brothers saw him, and the glass that he was wearing, they stopped then uttered a small gasp. He suppressed a laugh over their doing so.

"Holy shit, Laz went and got a third eye!" Hazaar exclaimed.

"Yeah, and its got xray and laser beam built into it to boot." Lazeer said.

"Let's make sure that all the ladies know about it having xray vision," Bile said.

"Does the lens have night vision built into it as well?" Lhaklar asked.

"Night vision, heat vision, xray vision, laser beam and—"

"You crazy kid!" Angel said. "Tazir, I blame you for passing the crazy gene to our youngest kid."

"Don't you look at me, sweetheart." TazirVile said. "I am just as innocent as a newborn bat."

"Sure you are." Angel said.

"Think the old man just said that it was our own mother who passed the crazy gene to Lazeer." Bile said.

"Hey, you did something with your hair."

What Lazeer had said was true—Hazaar, while knowing that his room's bathroom was all set-up to accommodate him and his hair, hadn't put his hair-care station, as his brothers seemed to like calling it, to use. Hazaar's deep purple rattail had four braided strands in it; a yellow feather was dangling loosely from a strand of hair while another strand of hair had been half-braided and then capped off with a bright yellow bead. He looked good with his hair being all made up; his brothers, and his mother, looked to be glad over seeing that he was returning to his usual self.

With his family looking to be awake and alert, he led them out the door then towards the vehicle that one of his staff had retrieved and then conveniently parked for them. While waiting for his children to dress themselves, and do their morning routines, he had checked the messages on his phone; the keys to his Excal X2 Limo had been retrieved at the same time. Lhaklar, he noticed, had put the brakes on after seeing the vehicle that was parked before the house—while the boy hadn't been with him when the vehicle was purchased he did seem to remember it well. He could see the signs of recognition on his face.

The vehicle was a light gold color; its front doors were very normal while the back ones swept up, into the vehicle's body, when a passenger, or passengers, was noted as coming towards it. The inside was spacious, and also held well to the vehicle's intended purpose and making. Eshal was the first to reach the car; she got in first while he and his wife got in second and then third. Lhaklar got in next then Bile "squeezed" in. Hazaar and Lazeer were the final two to get into the car. Once everyone was in the car, and once the doors were all shut, he inserted the key, then twisted it, then started driving. The throng of still-represent reporters, while getting out of the way, remained by the front gate and fence of his property; he imagined a lot of disappointed faces being expressed and plain images of his vehicle as it was either being driven towards or away from them being taken.

"A limousine and a six foot, three inch being do not go well together." Bile said after standing to get more comfortable in his chosen seat; his head had bumped the ceiling, and one of his elongated ears had hit the window opposite him, when he did so.

"You'll get use to it after experiencing a few rides in a vehicle like this." TazirVile said. He gave his wife a wandering gaze before looking back at the road. "First time that Hazaar and Lazeer have been in a limo?"

"Yes, it is—first time in a long time that Bile and Lhaklar have been in one as well." Angel replied. "Goes double for me, too."

"You five will get use to it," TazirVile said while taking his wife's hand.

The inside of the limousine was colored like that of the exterior—light gold upholstery and carpet; the seats were a very faint gold color, but they went well with the vehicle's primary colors. The window that was behind the front seats allowed him and his siblings to see their parents; the back portion of the limousine was what got him—the ceiling was concave in design, which looked odd in the vehicle, and there were a few things in this part of the vehicle that had his mind blown.

A 200-watt stereo system, DVD player, and mini-bar were before him; the window that was suppose to be the vehicle's back window was taken up by a flat-screen tv that looked to have surround sound to it. The long row of seats were placed across from the vehicle's one back passenger door; just about every inch of space had been put to use in the vehicle's back, which was both a good and a bad thing. Good for his father, who had wanted a vehicle that'd live up to and warrant the price placed to it, and bad for them, who didn't know how to act or move around in such a vehicle. The mini-bar had a series of glasses in it; a bottle of Champagne, Gin, and regular issue Moas Beer could be seen beside the space where the glasses were. He, for just a second, considered taking one of the bottles out from its space and then pouring himself a serving of it—if not for his sister, and his parents, being in the car with him he would of done it. He could imagine his sister ratting him out on taking one of the bottles out from its containment place and his father saying afterwards Lhaklar, uh-uh now. Don't even thing about it, you're much too young to be drinking. If not for his sister and father's presence, he would of also had a smoke—he wanted to smoke one of his Black Devils cigarettes pretty badly but, due to their presence, he wasn't able to do so.

"Where are we going?" Hazaar asked.

"To a place where we'll be eating breakfast at." TazirVile replied.

"Where's that?" Hazaar asked.

"Guess your daddy has a mind to keep where we're headed to a secret." Angel said when her husband didn't answer their son's question.

If not for his father using teleportation to get them to the city that he was planning on taking them to it would of taken hours for their trip to end—his father's place was situated "in the country" and was a good distance from any sort of civilized areas so, on any given day, when his father got the wild hair up his ass to just plain drive instead of drive a short distance and then teleport to his destination, it'd take anywhere between two to six hours for any sort of trip to be concluded.

Their mother called the place that they appeared on the outskirts of J'Sepp City; it was large and it looked to boast a lot of business buildings and recreational areas in it. He saw eateries of both large, medium, and small sizes; he saw theaters, and at least two parks, and a zoo, before his eye landed on the structures that the business-type dealings took place in. These buildings, which were a nice, shiny silver and dull brown color, stretched almost beyond the planet's clouds and were either wide or thin in appearance. He was giving one of the business-type buildings a good looking over when his father pulled into a building that acted as a sort of parking space for vehicles—$20 was paid to the guard that was seated before the building, in a little outpost of sorts, then they drove on; the old man had paid the guard $10 of what was usually paid for one to park their vehicle in the building as a sort of security thing, which he thought showed the little paranoid side that his father had to him.

His father parked in parking space twelve, then removed the key from the ignition, then exited the vehicle; they followed suit. They gave the building's interior, and the many vehicles that were parked in it, a small look before following their parents, who had already started towards the building's front. They were led from the building, then down a long concrete strip, before stopping before a building that had a sign on it that said Laetiquoar Buffet—the glass door was opened, they went in, then they arranged themselves in a "neat" line behind the man who, they were quite sure, would be paying for their tenure in the restaurant.

It was no surprise to them that a team of reporters careened to a stop right outside the building after they reached the restaurant's podium; he, his brothers, and their mother looked at the reporters nervously before turning their attention to the man who was manning the podium.

"How many?" the man, who had slimy, lizard-like skin, yellow eyes and teeth, and who was wearing a black tuxedo, asked their father.

"Seven," TazirVile replied.

"That's seven hundred and twenty dollars, sir." the lizard-like man said. "Smoking or non smoking?"

"Non-smoking, thank you." TazirVile paid the man then led his family past the podium; he led them in the direction that the man directed them to go.

He, a few days ago, had done a small brushing-up on the Moasian language; according to what he had read, the restaurants name was All Around Breakfast Buffet—Laeti was All Around while quoar was Breakfast. Taking from that, he figured that the restaurant was one of them types that served breakfast food all day—he used his brain no more after figuring this; with his not having anything since last night's supper, and with the better than appetizing aromas floating around in the building, he was fuckin' hungry!

He, his mother, and his siblings followed his father into the main part of the restaurant then they imitated what he did; the man grabbed a tray then started the process of going from one buffet to the next. When he was done in making his rounds, he had a tray that was full of pancakes, fried chicken, hash-brown patties, egg omelets, and sausage rolls. The man found a table, then sat down, then dug in while they went by their way in taking a tray up and then making themselves a "breakfast fit for a king". In all, it took five minutes for them to fill their trays and then join their father at the table that he had taken to sit at; once at the table, they started eating.

"Ma is the only one I know who'll eat shrimp for breakfast." Bile said after they had started the process of eating what was on their trays.

"That so young man. Suppose I'll come back with saying that you're the only one that I know of who'll eat noodles that's been saturated in syrup for breakfast." Angel replied.

"Gross!" Eshal made a face.

"My sentiments exactly," Angel said. She looked at her husband then said, "They say that boys have more weird tastes than girls when their growth spurts kick in—boy did Bile and Lhaklar have some weird interests in food when they reached that period in their lives!"

"I can imagine," TazirVile said. "They try eggshells or eating half cooked eggs during that period?"

"Cooked, half-cooked, near-burnt, burnt, with the eggshell still being intact around the egg, and raw." Angel replied. "Came close to screaming after seeing Lhaklar eating an egg that he just took out from the egg carton. After eating that, I wouldn't speak to him for a while—I was that shocked."

"My mother can tell you a few things of what I ate when I was experiencing my growth periods. A fully shelled egg was one of my dietary eats." TazirVile replied.

"She ever walk up on you eating a sort of sauce that's contents were nothing more than ketchsup, mustard, Texas Pete hot sauce, and mayonnaise?"

That was a no; he was fast in putting an end to that conversation after hearing that all of his sons had eaten that type of sauce sometime in their teenage growth periods—while he had eaten some strange things in his teenage years he had never eaten anything like that. It was a known fact that teenagers in their early and then starting years of their mid-teenage lives ate a lot and, naturally, had weird tastes for things that adults wouldn't dare go near. Eshal had eaten a lot of vegetable and fruit combinations during her early teenage years; while she was still one for vegetables and fruits she didn't combine them anymore. He'd never forget the shakes, or the salads, that she had eaten and that went double with the requests for vegetable-fruit ice cream—yuck said he during that period of her life and yuck said he now.

He, as a young teenager, had grossed both his mother and sister out on several occasions. The two would have a field day in telling Angel and the boys about his "fetish" in preferring to drink shakes that were made of meat lovers pizza, ice cream, mushrooms, and noodles and they would also have a field day in telling his family about his interest in beef tongue, cabbage, brussels sprout, and macaroni lasagna.

Knowing what he had eaten as a young teenager, and knowing what his daughter had eaten during her early teen years, he could imagine all the "nice" things his sons had eaten.

Seeing as the conversation would come up on when and who the first invitations would go out to, he started telling his wife what he had planned for the next week and a half.

"I'm to start sending the first lot of invites out in the next week and a half." he said.

"How many are expected to come over?" Angel asked.

"Nine—naturally, since they stuck it out with me on looking for you and the boys from start to finish, my mother, stepfather, and their kids, and my sister, Qeeta, are coming over first." TazirVile replied.

"Qeeta have any kids?" Angel asked.

"No, she's still single. My mother and stepper have two new ones though." TazirVile replied. "Defe and Qhuakiz—they're rather young."

He told of when he was sending his brother's, Kuruk's, and his family's invitations out then he told of when he was planning on sending his father's and his family's invitations out then he told of when he was sending his grandfather's invitation out. His half-sisters, and their multitude of families, would be getting their invites next followed by Trobrencus and his family; Gloar and his wife, Vixbie, and their two kids would be invited over last. He reassured his wife that he was planning on taking things slow—the first batch of invitees would get the chance to get to know his sons, and his sons would get use to having them around, before the next batch of invitees came over and so on. He was planning on this being a lengthy, month to two month process and he was also expecting for somewhere over sixty people coming over.

"You have all of the invitations locked up, right?" Angel asked after all of who was expected to come over had been told to her. "When did you send the invitations for the Ubalki family again?"

"Yesterday," TazirVile answered truthfully. "At the time of my joining you in bed last night, there was a small stack of invitations on my desk—all were moved to one of my desk's drawers just before I left my office."

"Do you still leave outgoing mail on your desk every evening?" Angel asked. "Does Losal or one of the other Goblins still take the mail out each morning?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because I saw Losal taking a large bundle of white envelopes out to the mailbox yesterday morning." Angel replied. "I'd say fifteen or—"

"There was a large stack on one of my file cabinets last night, you probably saw him taking them out to the box." TazirVile said.

They finished breakfast then they filed out of the restaurant; the reporters, as expected, gave them a bit of trouble upon their exit of Laetiquoar Buffet. He had to lunge at two reporters, then he had to grab and then escort two of his sons, who had been grabbed from behind by a too-brash man who wanted his questions answered, then he got into a minor brawl with two men who refused to remove their hands from his wife and daughter. It was utter chaos for ten long minutes before they finally made it to the building that the Excal X2 had been parked in; the guard stationed at the building's front aided them in keeping the reporters at bay so they could go to the car, then get into it, then start on their way home.

The same usage of his teleportation ability occurred after they exited the building; they appeared on the street that the mansion was on then they drove on in silence and near-peace—his children unwound from what they had just endured while he wondered what all had been sent out in the outgoing mail yesterday morning.

His mother, Cheshire, their sons and daughters, and Qeeta would be showing up within a matter of days; the mail was sometimes slow in getting out to people so he estimated that it'd be three to four days before they got their invitations. He was sure that the other invites had been stored in one of his desk drawers—but, to be a little on the safe side, once he parked the car before the house, then after he and his family entered the house, he went up to his office to check on the non-sent invites.

His wife, unbeknown to Lhaklar, had already made the trek to Earth for his "Munster Koach" model; Lhaklar would find his model waiting for him sometime after he decided to venture up to his room. Since he didn't want his other children to feel left out, he had seen to it about getting them something too. Eshal had one of them paint-by-numbers kits in her chamber; Bile had a model of a beast devouring a near-scantily clad woman in his chamber; Hazaar had a model of a "blender" spacecraft in his chamber; and Lazeer had a model of a skeletal airplane in his chamber. They'd be busy for a while, so he wasn't concerned over them; his main concern, at the moment, was centered on what his wife had said. While true, he had made out a few things for the outgoing mail two evenings ago, the stack had still been present on one of his file cabinets that morning; what was it that his wife had seen Losal take out?

"The routine is they see something sitting out that looks mail-able and they mail it out with no questions asked. It's always been that way for my staff and, most of the time, it is Mr. Khrelan who mails the morning mail out." he thought while going down the second level's hallway.

The second he walked into his office, then looked over at his desk, then opened the drawer that he thought he remembered putting the surplus invitations in, his heart sank. They were gone; he recalled looking through the invites, and then sliding them back into their given envelopes, and he thought he recalled putting them away for safe-keeping, but... well, the empty drawer, that the invites should be in but that they weren't in, told him that his recollection was very wrong. He checked all throughout his office for the missing invites before coming to the aggravating conclusion that he had left them out on his desk two nights ago and that they had been sent out in the mail yesterday.

Seeing as he couldn't just call the ones who had been sent too-early invites to come over and then tell them to not come over, he stood up, straightened his tie, then went to find his wife. It was unfortunate on his part that he had unfortunate news to tell her—that, instead of just nine people coming over, an estimated twenty was expected to arrive in the coming few days to a week.