Legendary Mystical Power Rangers Chapter One:
A teenage girl stared out the window of the bus, pulling a face as she saw the large building up ahead, for the next nine months this building would be her home. She guessed it was better than being put into the system, or having to move to France with her grandmother. A grandmother who wanted nothing to do with her. She had been the one who suggested that she attend this boarding school this year instead of going to live with her after the death of her ex-husband, who had tended to the granddaughter's needs since day one of her life.
"Next stop Knight Academy," the bus driver announced through his little microphone so that everyone who was getting off the bus there would know to gather their stuff together so that they didn't have to wait forever for everyone to get off. The teenager flipped a red braid off her shoulder, straightened her black baseball cap with the Lightspeed Rescue logo on the front so that it was on backward, and grabbed her duffel and quiver and bow case from the overhead bin. Besides her backpack with her purse in it, the rest of her luggage, which consisted of a large suitcase and her guitar which she had inherited from her mother, was stored in the back of the bus.
She glanced around her large doe colored eyes scanning the bus, she was the only one preparing to disembark, not that she was surprised, she was the only one her age on the bus, to begin with. Why would anyone send their son or daughter to boarding school on a hot and uncomfortable bus instead of driving up on their own and helping them get settled into their dorms themselves?
The bus slowed to a stop and the door was swung open. The teen quickly hurried out as fast as someone carrying something over each shoulder, on her back, and in her hand could navigate through the narrow walkway between the rows of seats.
She stared at the large building, it was even bigger in person, it rose up high into the sky, at least four stories high, and bigger than the elementary, middle, and high school back home combined. The front was covered in green grass with flower beds lining the path. No doubt that behind the building there would be a stable for horses, soccer fields and basketball courts, and best of all, and the only reason she even allowed herself to agree to attend this stupid boarding school, an archery range.
Behind her the bus driver climbed back into the bus after retrieving the rest of her luggage and drove away, she was alone in the world. She took a deep breath of the clean, crisp, fresh air, before turning to figure out how to move her luggage inside and to her dorm with only one trip. If she put her backpack on her back, swing her duffel over her neck on one side and her quiver on the other side, she could carry her bow case and… that wouldn't work, she still needed to carry her guitar and suitcase as well. She should have left the stupid guitar at… she didn't have anywhere to leave it, that was why she had to take it with her. It had either take it with or sale it, and it was one of the few items that she had left of her mother's.
"Here, let me help you," a voice said, as a dark hand snaked forward and grabbed the guitar case. The redhead looked up to see a grinning African American boy whose black hair was done up in several short braids, each with a colorful bead at the end. His shirt was just as colorful, but his cargo shorts where plain black ones.
"Thank you," the girl stated, looking around as if expecting to see cameras or something, why would some random stranger help her?
"No problem," the boy said, sticking out his hand, "Name's J.T. unless I'm in trouble, then it's Jeremiah Timothy Taylor. Are you new here? Do you think you'll like it here? I'm not sure I will, you see, my dad, he didn't like finding out that I was skipping school last year, so he decided to make me live at school. Who does that? I'm pretty sure that that falls under cruel and unusual punishments, but here I am," J.T. paused for a second, "By the way, what did you say your name was?"
"Sara-Lee," she said, accepting the hand that had been held out in front of her during the whole tirade, "Sara-lee Hart, but most people just call me Sara."
"Sara," J.T. said, giving Sara a once over, "No that can't be right, you don't look like a Sara."
"If you're going to make a wisecrack about my red hair, and call me Anne of Green Gables, so help me!" Sara growled, balling her hands into fists.
"No, not at all," J.T. insisted, "You just look more like a Max or a Sam, not a Sara."
Sara blinked glancing down at her clothes, a faded gray t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, complete with black flip-flops and a baseball cap worn backward, with her hair done up in two braids of all things! Why had she decided to dress for comfort?
J.T. frowned at the look Sara was giving him if looks could kill that would be the look, "I should put my foot in my mouth, shouldn't I?" he asked, "Sometimes I say stuff before thinking. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, honest. I just want to be friends. Forgive me?" he asked, holding out his hand once more to Sara.
Sara continued to frown, "I don't do friends," she announced, yanking the guitar case out of J.T.'s hand, and stomping into the building, leaving her suitcase behind.
J.T. grabbed it, and raced after Sara, "Don't do friends," he repeated, "Girl, you are like no one I've ever met before, doesn't do friends?"
Sara stopped and turned around, "Do you mind? She demanded, "Stop following me!"
J.T. however, just smirked, "I can't, he insisted, nodding towards the suitcase, "I have your luggage."
"Why do you have my bag?" Sara demanded.
"Just consider me your personal bellhop," J.T. insisted, before nodding towards a long line of students, "That's the Freshman registration line, it's where you get your room assignment, schedule, and ID."
The line seemed long although it was only ten people deep at the moment. The student at the head of the line accepted a binder from the teacher who was passing them out and left following the direction that the teacher had pointed out. Another family stepped forward, this time a man who looked a bit like J.T. but older, and a woman. As the woman spoke to the teacher, the man looked around, as if just now realizing that he didn't have a teenager with him, "Jeremiah," he called out, before locking eyes with J.T.
"Well that's my Dad," J.T. announced, "I better go before he decides to tack Timothy onto that." with that he sat her suitcase in the middle of the hallway and raced over to his parents.
Sara watched him for a second before rolling her eyes, great now what was she suppose to do with her luggage. She carefully set her bow and quiver of arrows down before dropping her guitar and duffel bag onto the floor as well.
A little boy, who couldn't have been much older than five approached her, "What kind of instrument is that?" he asked swiping a pudgy little hand across a runny nose before pointing to her bow case.
Sara smiled, she liked little kids, although she wasn't sure why she did, "It's not an instrument," she explained, bending over to undo the latches, "It's a bow, like what Indians use." With that, she opened the case and pulled out a bow that had been painted pink.
"That's an impressive bow," a new voice said behind her, "But Native American bows are made out of wood, not metal, and they weren't painted."
Sara turned to glare at another boy her age, this one had short brown hair that was spiked and deep brown eyes and look exactly like the man that stood next to him except the older man wore glasses.
Tommy hadn't really been paying attention to what was going on when his nephew suddenly mentioned that Native American bows were made out of wood and not metal. He turned to see what he was talking about. There was a girl with red hair, wearing a gray t-shirt and basketball shorts holding… The Power Bow. Kimberly's weapon, but how?
The redhead turned to look at them and Tommy couldn't help but gasp, despite the red hair, everything else was the same as… Her… could it be?
"Beautiful?" the name slipped out of his mouth before his mind had finished thinking it.
"Aren't you a little old to try to flirt with me?" Sara demanded, putting the bow back in its case.
Tommy blinked, "Yes, Um, sorry, you reminded me of someone else," he confessed, before slapping his nephew on his back, "This is Mason Trueheart, my nephew."
"Sara," Sara added, "Sara Hart." What was up with this man, she thought to herself, as he gave a start and another look over when she mentioned her last name. She shook her head and got into line.
…
Sara sat her stuff down once more looking at the door in front of her, it looked like any other door down the long hallway, the only difference was the number on it and a piece of paper that read, Sara-Lee O. Hart, Melody L. DeSantos.
She groaned, great a roommate, she should have realized that. Taking a deep breath she slid her ID card, which doubled as a key card through the electronic lock and opened the door.
"You must be Sara-Lee," Melody exclaimed, flipping dark brown, almost black hair over her shoulder, "I'm Melody," she announced, sticking out her hand, "My parents are out back, settling my horse into the stable for me."
Great a spoiled rich girl, just what she needed, "Just call me Sara," she pleaded, "Sara-Lee is a bread brand."
"So," Melody said, plopping down on one of the beds as Sara looked around the room, two beds, two dressers, two desks, a closet, and an onsite bathroom. Quaint and not too different from other dorm rooms she had seen on television and stuff, "What do you like to do for fun?"
"I like Archery, rock climbing, I'm not bad at softball either," Sara stated.
"You play the guitar?" Melody asked, nodding to the guitar cast that Sara had dumped onto the second bed.
"A little, it belonged to my mom," Sara said, as she started putting her clothes away in the dresser. Everything was quiet as Sara finished throwing her clothes into the dresser and started hanging up Power Ranger Team posters over her bed.
"Is that Original Team poster, autographed?" Melody asked, walking over to Sara's side of the room.
"I doubt it," Sara admitted, "I thought so at first until I read what was written, my mom's friends signed it as if they were the power rangers, but it isn't really them. This poster would have been worth a fortune if it was. As it is, not worth the paper it's printed on."
Melody leaned closer, pulling out a pair of reading glasses from the pocket of her blue plaid shirt and put them on, "Weird," She said, pointing to a slash of red ink on the poster, "That's my older brother, Rocky, and..." she pointed to another signature, this one done in black, over top of the yellow ranger, "That's my sister-in-law, Aisha."
"But that can't be right," Sara insisted, "Your brother is what twenty, twenty-two?"
"Thirty-five," Melody said, "Aisha is around that age too, I can't remember for certain."
Sara frown, "That puts them at the same age as my mom, but, where are you from, my mom grew up in Angel Grove."
"My family moved to Angel Grove when Rocky was in High School."
"So there's a chance that this Rocky DeSantos and your Rocky DeSantos are the same person?" Sara questioned, "He knew my mother," a look filled her eyes, "Is he here, I never met one of her friends before, maybe he knows somethings that Grandpa didn't know about my mom."
Melody shook her head, "No, sorry, he had to work, can't you just ask your mom about it?"
Sara shook her head, "My mom passed away when I was in preschool."
Melody's mouth opened and closed several times, before she finally said, "I'm sorry I didn't know..." she trailed off for a second before an idea struck her, she carefully pulled her glasses off and placed them back in their pocket, "I know, if Rocky did know your mother, maybe Mom and Dad knew her too, he was always hanging out with this group of friends, maybe she was part of it."
Sara nodded, "Okay," she said out loud as she chided herself for getting her hopes up, this would only lead to disappointment.
…
Tammy Johnson took a deep breath as she finally was able to leave the front hall of the school and head out into the warm summer breeze, now that all of the new students had been sorted out it wouldn't be much trouble to get the returning students when they arrived tomorrow night settled. Now she could roam the grounds and answer as many questions as she could about the upcoming school year.
"But there are monsters in those woods!" a student was shouting his blue eyes wide in fear, as he pointed to the woods that adjacent the school, "I saw it on the news."
"Did you also heard about the power ranger that we have?" Tammy offered, "There's a lone power ranger that lives somewhere in those woods as well."
"Only one," the dad asked, at least Tammy thought it was the dad, while the student had blue eyes and the dad's eyes were brown they had the same brown hair cut in the same short style and the same nose, "That's odd, in Angel Grove there was always a team, in fact, I've never heard of a lone ranger before."
"You know much about power rangers?" Tammy asked, irked, she didn't want to deal with a power ranger fan.
"I once helped the power rangers defeat a monster," he said with a laugh, "honestly if all of Angel Grove could live with monsters attacking every other day, Frank here," with that he clapped his hand on his son's shoulder, "Can handle living next door to a haunted woods."
Tammy nodded her head, "Don't worry Frank, I'm Ms. Johnson, one of the English teachers, and TJ Johnson's older sister, if the monsters get too bad, I'll just call him in."
Frank's eyes lit up, "Do you think that he might choose a power ranger team from among the students."
"Maybe," Tammy said, sweeping away a stray strand of black hair that had fallen into her face, "Say, would you mind coming with me to the storage unit?" she offered, an odd look in her eyes, "I need to get some stuff out of there for class Monday, and I could use someone to help me carry stuff."
"I guess I could help," Frank said, rubbing his arms, "If you really want me to."
"I would really appreciate it," Tammy said, already steering the boy towards the on-site storage unit.
…
A man with a black pointy goatee and long curly black hair, stomped his booted foot in disgust, how did this contraption worked? Modern technology took all the magic out of the world, he thought to himself as he tried once more to open the door. There was no handle, and it refused to budge no matter how hard he tried to slide it left or right, or even up. Finally, he shrugged, he wasn't going to allow some stupid door stand in his way, the foot soldiers would have to break it down. He raised a gauntlet covered hand and gave a short shout. Suddenly out of nowhere a hundred knights with their armor painted black appeared.
"Don't just stand there!" the man shouted, "Break down the door and find that Goblet!"
"Hey!" a new voice called out, "Cool costume, is that the mascot costume?"
Mordred turned to look at the youth who had called out to him, what strange clothes he wore, his baggy pants only came to his knees, and his shirt was very colorful.
J.T. gulped as the strangely dressed man turned to look at him, judging from the cold hard look he gave with his black eyes he wasn't just a teacher wearing a costume, but why would someone else be wearing chain-mail in the twenty-first century.
"Get rid of him," Mordred ordered, pointing to J.T. The knights did an about-face, turning to face J.T.
"This does not look good," J.T. muttered, dropping into a fighting position that his Uncle Zack had taught him when he went to visit him that summer. If this weirdo thought that he could scare him off he had another thought coming.
To be continued…