*****
Title: Days of Youth Author: ZenosParadox
Summary: RS, Tu. Malcolm, Hoshi and Trip are 12-year olds lost in the woods.
Notes: Wanted to post this before the Similitude episode since the idea has been nagging me for a year now. Written September, 2003. Disclaimer: The characters belong to Paramount. This fiction was written solely for personal enjoyment.
DAYS OF YOUTH
Chapter 1: DAWN
The boy's eyes opened abruptly. He did not seem surprised to see the blue sky above him peeking through the treetops. The headache was no worse than when his sinuses acted up; being outdoors would do that to him. Thank goodness he wasn't in the tropics.
He raised himself into a low crouch and did a 360 degree turn as he registered the environment. He was in a forest, but he thought there was a clearing ahead. It was obvious he was alone. He didn't think he was supposed to be alone. He was supposed to be taking care of someone. Madeline? Was she lost? Somehow he knew she was somewhere safe. Perhaps he was the one who was lost?
The twelve-year old youth looked at the garment he wore. The gray jumper was the wrong color and the wrong size. He was certain of it. Was this another one of his father's tests? He sighed wearily as he considered this. He couldn't think of his father's name, though.
What was his own name? He began rolling up the hem of the pant legs and the sleeves on the shirt. Malcolm. Yes, it would be an old-fashioned, stuffy name, now wouldn't it? He shook his head and started walking to the clearing. He soon realized he was heading to the edge of a river. A rickety suspension bridge provided a way across. He could see smoke rising from the woods on the opposite shore. That would be his best destination.
Malcolm climbed onto the bridge thinking he would find his father when he found the source of the smoke. He would probably be frowning about how late Malcolm was. Being preoccupied with these thoughts, Malcolm failed to note the loose step. He was soon falling into the water with one thought ringing through his mind: "Death by drowning is not a tradition I intended to uphold."
~~~~~
The twelve-year old human woke up and stretched, yawning widely. Boy, that must've been some party. He should know better than to tag along with his big brother. He should've stayed home with Lizzie. Nah, she was starting to get too interested in girly stuff.
His head was pounding, so the boy became still. He soon realized he wasn't sleeping in his bed, but on the ground in the middle of a forest. What the--Oh no, not snipe hunting again! He sat up with a furious look on his face, but then realized he was wearing an unfamiliar gray jumper that was a tad wide on him. What had his brother done now?
Wait. What was his brother's name? What was his name?
Trip, yeah, that was it. Rather cool, if he did say so himself. Now, where was that brother of his? He'd remember his name as soon as he--wait. He heard some splashing in the distance.
"I'm gonna get you good, bro!" muttered Trip under his breath as he headed toward the sound.
~~~~~
The twelve-year old girl woke up with a severe headache and a strong sense that something wasn't right. She patted her head lightly, but the source of her headache wasn't a blow to the head. She made a quick survey of her body to find she had no physical injuries. That must be good. She scanned the forest thinking she had gone camping. Was anyone with her? Was she alone? Somehow she didn't think she was supposed to be alone.
She sat up and noted she was wearing a gray jumper that was a bit large on her frame. It seemed unfamiliar, as if the color was wrong. A frown came next. A name. She should have a name.
Hoshi, her name was Hoshi. Hm, she preferred Cricket, though. She could hear something splashing in the distance. That could mean someone was near. She began to run to the source.
~~~~~
The dark hair of the human splashing in the water was NOT his brother, thought Trip. The boy appeared to be about his own age and he was in trouble.
"Hang on, I'm coming!" yelled Trip.
He looked around hoping to find something he could use to help the boy who was being carried along with the current. He saw a log on shore that might just be able to intercept the boy if Trip could get to it in time. He ran at full steam, but was surprised when he saw a graceful figure leap into the river from a rock ledge behind him.
Hoshi reached the struggling boy and yelled, "Don't fight me. Calm down."
Malcolm ceased his struggles and together the two fought the current.
"Grab hold," they heard and Hoshi steered them to the edge of the log that Trip had pushed toward them in the water. The two grabbed the log along side him as the current continued to sweep them down river.
Malcolm finally scanned his surroundings again and said, "Veer right. There's a camp or something on the other shore."
The youths began kicking in the water behind the log, but they were running out of energy. Trip saw a rotting tree trunk looming out into the water and let it catch their log. Together he and the girl dragged the dark-haired boy onto the shore. They all collapsed with heavy breathing.
"Whew! This is some snipe hunt my brother took me on." Trip turned to the boy lying beside him. "You're a lucky fella."
Malcolm merely looked up at the boy as he registered the Southern drawl.
"Luck had nothing to do with it," said Hoshi as she sat up primly and addressed the dark-haired boy. "I'm the captain of my swim team and I am a very strong swimmer."
Malcolm turned his face toward the girl. Her black hair was a sleek helmet around her face. She was obviously Asian, but she spoke English with an American accent. And she had the most beautiful dark eyes he had ever seen. The only thing he had appreciated about living in the tropics were the dark eyes of the residents.
"Who the heck are you, anyway?" asked Trip of their female companion. "Or are ya gonna make us call you Cap'n?"
Somehow that sounded very wrong to Trip. The boy propped himself on one elbow to smirk at the girl who sat on the other side of the dark-haired boy.
"You can call me Cricket," she said with a proud tilt of her nose.
"That's not a name; that's a bug," replied Trip smartly.
"It's my swim team nickname, genius," said Hoshi with a roll of her eyes. "My given name is Hoshi, but I bet you'd corrupt it with your nasal pronunciation."
Malcolm interjected before Trip could retort. "Thank you, Cricket, and you as well, uh, what is your name?"
"Me? I'm Trip."
"That's not a name; that's a verb," the girl said primly.
"I'm the third generation of same name," said Trip defensively through gritted teeth. Sheesh, this girl was annoying, the Little Miss Know-It-All. "My real name is Charles. I think my real name is Charles. My brother took me snipe hunting. That's probably him at the campsite."
"Pleased to meet you both. I'm Malcolm and I think the campsite is probably my father, but I can't be sure now. I don't seem to remember anything about how I got here."
"It has to be my family. I think my father took us camping. I must have wandered off or something," said Hoshi with uncertainty. Somehow it felt right that the three of them should be together, but that made no sense. Why were these two boys so familiar to her?
"We should probably approach the camp cautiously until we know for sure whose family it is. It could very well be none of ours." Malcolm spoke quietly, but his words sent chills up the spines of his companions.
"Why would ya say something like that? You sound as gloomy as Eyore," offered Trip.
"Can you think of a reason why we're all wearing the same sort of clothes? It almost looks like a uniform."
"You're right," mumbled Hoshi as she looked at the mud-caked, gray fabric that each wore. This was too close for coincidence. "Yours don't fit well, either."
"Aw, come on. You're not telling me that you think we were all sent to some--some juvenile detention camp and just wandered off?" As soon as the words were out of Trip's mouth, they made too much sense to ignore, however.
"Can either of you remember--exactly--remember how you got here?" Malcolm stood up and rubbed his face. Had his father finally sent him off to a camp for wayward youth? Was it so traumatic that he had forgotten?
"There's no way I could be at some camp for juvenile delinquents! I'm a prodigy, a genius, I'm a perfect lady!" said Hoshi as stood and poked Malcolm roughly in the shoulder.
"Yeah, some lady," remarked Trip as he also stood.
Malcolm merely winced when the girl poked his shoulder. There was obviously a bruise there. He rubbed at it absently as he said, "I'm not trying to cast aspersions on your character. Maybe we were all sent to a camp for chil--youths with special talents. I just don't think it would be a good idea to walk blindly into the camp up there. Maybe they're looking for us. Maybe we'll be in trouble for wondering off. Maybe we were trying to run away."
Hoshi and Trip looked at each other when Malcolm ended his statement with a shrug. Trip finally said, "Well, we better get going. We can sneak up on the campsite then decide what to do. Boy, I never thought I'd meet anyone so darn gloomy..."
Trip began walking off briskly, but Hoshi turned to Malcolm and asked, "Your shoulder's hurt, isn't it?"
"It's just a bruise; I've had worse," responded Malcolm without looking into her eyes. The girl really had the biggest brown eyes. "Let's catch up to Trip before he travels further in the wrong direction."
Hoshi suppressed a giggle. Malcolm was very quiet and yes, a bit gloomy, but he was beginning to be her favorite traveling companion.
*****
Title: Days of Youth Author: ZenosParadox
Summary: RS, Tu. Malcolm, Hoshi and Trip are 12-year olds lost in the woods.
Notes: Wanted to post this before the Similitude episode since the idea has been nagging me for a year now. Written September, 2003. Disclaimer: The characters belong to Paramount. This fiction was written solely for personal enjoyment.
DAYS OF YOUTH
Chapter 1: DAWN
The boy's eyes opened abruptly. He did not seem surprised to see the blue sky above him peeking through the treetops. The headache was no worse than when his sinuses acted up; being outdoors would do that to him. Thank goodness he wasn't in the tropics.
He raised himself into a low crouch and did a 360 degree turn as he registered the environment. He was in a forest, but he thought there was a clearing ahead. It was obvious he was alone. He didn't think he was supposed to be alone. He was supposed to be taking care of someone. Madeline? Was she lost? Somehow he knew she was somewhere safe. Perhaps he was the one who was lost?
The twelve-year old youth looked at the garment he wore. The gray jumper was the wrong color and the wrong size. He was certain of it. Was this another one of his father's tests? He sighed wearily as he considered this. He couldn't think of his father's name, though.
What was his own name? He began rolling up the hem of the pant legs and the sleeves on the shirt. Malcolm. Yes, it would be an old-fashioned, stuffy name, now wouldn't it? He shook his head and started walking to the clearing. He soon realized he was heading to the edge of a river. A rickety suspension bridge provided a way across. He could see smoke rising from the woods on the opposite shore. That would be his best destination.
Malcolm climbed onto the bridge thinking he would find his father when he found the source of the smoke. He would probably be frowning about how late Malcolm was. Being preoccupied with these thoughts, Malcolm failed to note the loose step. He was soon falling into the water with one thought ringing through his mind: "Death by drowning is not a tradition I intended to uphold."
~~~~~
The twelve-year old human woke up and stretched, yawning widely. Boy, that must've been some party. He should know better than to tag along with his big brother. He should've stayed home with Lizzie. Nah, she was starting to get too interested in girly stuff.
His head was pounding, so the boy became still. He soon realized he wasn't sleeping in his bed, but on the ground in the middle of a forest. What the--Oh no, not snipe hunting again! He sat up with a furious look on his face, but then realized he was wearing an unfamiliar gray jumper that was a tad wide on him. What had his brother done now?
Wait. What was his brother's name? What was his name?
Trip, yeah, that was it. Rather cool, if he did say so himself. Now, where was that brother of his? He'd remember his name as soon as he--wait. He heard some splashing in the distance.
"I'm gonna get you good, bro!" muttered Trip under his breath as he headed toward the sound.
~~~~~
The twelve-year old girl woke up with a severe headache and a strong sense that something wasn't right. She patted her head lightly, but the source of her headache wasn't a blow to the head. She made a quick survey of her body to find she had no physical injuries. That must be good. She scanned the forest thinking she had gone camping. Was anyone with her? Was she alone? Somehow she didn't think she was supposed to be alone.
She sat up and noted she was wearing a gray jumper that was a bit large on her frame. It seemed unfamiliar, as if the color was wrong. A frown came next. A name. She should have a name.
Hoshi, her name was Hoshi. Hm, she preferred Cricket, though. She could hear something splashing in the distance. That could mean someone was near. She began to run to the source.
~~~~~
The dark hair of the human splashing in the water was NOT his brother, thought Trip. The boy appeared to be about his own age and he was in trouble.
"Hang on, I'm coming!" yelled Trip.
He looked around hoping to find something he could use to help the boy who was being carried along with the current. He saw a log on shore that might just be able to intercept the boy if Trip could get to it in time. He ran at full steam, but was surprised when he saw a graceful figure leap into the river from a rock ledge behind him.
Hoshi reached the struggling boy and yelled, "Don't fight me. Calm down."
Malcolm ceased his struggles and together the two fought the current.
"Grab hold," they heard and Hoshi steered them to the edge of the log that Trip had pushed toward them in the water. The two grabbed the log along side him as the current continued to sweep them down river.
Malcolm finally scanned his surroundings again and said, "Veer right. There's a camp or something on the other shore."
The youths began kicking in the water behind the log, but they were running out of energy. Trip saw a rotting tree trunk looming out into the water and let it catch their log. Together he and the girl dragged the dark-haired boy onto the shore. They all collapsed with heavy breathing.
"Whew! This is some snipe hunt my brother took me on." Trip turned to the boy lying beside him. "You're a lucky fella."
Malcolm merely looked up at the boy as he registered the Southern drawl.
"Luck had nothing to do with it," said Hoshi as she sat up primly and addressed the dark-haired boy. "I'm the captain of my swim team and I am a very strong swimmer."
Malcolm turned his face toward the girl. Her black hair was a sleek helmet around her face. She was obviously Asian, but she spoke English with an American accent. And she had the most beautiful dark eyes he had ever seen. The only thing he had appreciated about living in the tropics were the dark eyes of the residents.
"Who the heck are you, anyway?" asked Trip of their female companion. "Or are ya gonna make us call you Cap'n?"
Somehow that sounded very wrong to Trip. The boy propped himself on one elbow to smirk at the girl who sat on the other side of the dark-haired boy.
"You can call me Cricket," she said with a proud tilt of her nose.
"That's not a name; that's a bug," replied Trip smartly.
"It's my swim team nickname, genius," said Hoshi with a roll of her eyes. "My given name is Hoshi, but I bet you'd corrupt it with your nasal pronunciation."
Malcolm interjected before Trip could retort. "Thank you, Cricket, and you as well, uh, what is your name?"
"Me? I'm Trip."
"That's not a name; that's a verb," the girl said primly.
"I'm the third generation of same name," said Trip defensively through gritted teeth. Sheesh, this girl was annoying, the Little Miss Know-It-All. "My real name is Charles. I think my real name is Charles. My brother took me snipe hunting. That's probably him at the campsite."
"Pleased to meet you both. I'm Malcolm and I think the campsite is probably my father, but I can't be sure now. I don't seem to remember anything about how I got here."
"It has to be my family. I think my father took us camping. I must have wandered off or something," said Hoshi with uncertainty. Somehow it felt right that the three of them should be together, but that made no sense. Why were these two boys so familiar to her?
"We should probably approach the camp cautiously until we know for sure whose family it is. It could very well be none of ours." Malcolm spoke quietly, but his words sent chills up the spines of his companions.
"Why would ya say something like that? You sound as gloomy as Eyore," offered Trip.
"Can you think of a reason why we're all wearing the same sort of clothes? It almost looks like a uniform."
"You're right," mumbled Hoshi as she looked at the mud-caked, gray fabric that each wore. This was too close for coincidence. "Yours don't fit well, either."
"Aw, come on. You're not telling me that you think we were all sent to some--some juvenile detention camp and just wandered off?" As soon as the words were out of Trip's mouth, they made too much sense to ignore, however.
"Can either of you remember--exactly--remember how you got here?" Malcolm stood up and rubbed his face. Had his father finally sent him off to a camp for wayward youth? Was it so traumatic that he had forgotten?
"There's no way I could be at some camp for juvenile delinquents! I'm a prodigy, a genius, I'm a perfect lady!" said Hoshi as stood and poked Malcolm roughly in the shoulder.
"Yeah, some lady," remarked Trip as he also stood.
Malcolm merely winced when the girl poked his shoulder. There was obviously a bruise there. He rubbed at it absently as he said, "I'm not trying to cast aspersions on your character. Maybe we were all sent to a camp for chil--youths with special talents. I just don't think it would be a good idea to walk blindly into the camp up there. Maybe they're looking for us. Maybe we'll be in trouble for wondering off. Maybe we were trying to run away."
Hoshi and Trip looked at each other when Malcolm ended his statement with a shrug. Trip finally said, "Well, we better get going. We can sneak up on the campsite then decide what to do. Boy, I never thought I'd meet anyone so darn gloomy..."
Trip began walking off briskly, but Hoshi turned to Malcolm and asked, "Your shoulder's hurt, isn't it?"
"It's just a bruise; I've had worse," responded Malcolm without looking into her eyes. The girl really had the biggest brown eyes. "Let's catch up to Trip before he travels further in the wrong direction."
Hoshi suppressed a giggle. Malcolm was very quiet and yes, a bit gloomy, but he was beginning to be her favorite traveling companion.
*****
