I had just managed to get to Mr. Plorp's antique shop before he was on the phone to fire me.
The rain had soaked me through and through, my jacket was waterlogged and I had to dump it in the back room of the amazing antique shop. The paintwork was a little chipped on the outside boarded walls; the 2nd storey of the building was purely made of glass that showcased the many valuables that took residence here.
The glass panels of the front of the shop had the wording of Mr. Plorp's Marvellous Antique's, and just below that, in a glass casing by the window in the shop were the most valuable. Like one of Captain Flint's swords, it had a golden handle and its silver blade was exceptional. And I was impressed, but inside I was gobsmacked.
It smelled like old people and alien gloop, but other than that it was sustainable. The wooden floors creaked and they were stained a little, but most of it was covered from large tables and cabinets filled with oddities and wonderful creations.
"Wow." I said with awe, the sun in the sky cast a low glow into the shop which was quite nice. Then I saw Mr. Plorp behind the counter.
He was some character, a fleshy pile of alien organs. He had a black vest on, a little tuff of pale blonde hair that stuck up like a mad man's. He was colour of a human's sick corpse, instead of a mouth he had a snout and spoke Flatulence, but mastered English, and over 10 alien languages.
"Jim," It sounded like he had a lisp, but it was all in the snout. "I was about to call your mother, telling her to tell you not to bother coming in today." He smiled at the end of his snout, observing my wet form. "Actually, not to bother coming in at all." He slithered over to me and picked at my drenched shirt with his fleshy trunk arms, he didn't have fingers or palms, so he curled the thinner end of his arm around my shirt, and possibly around objects.
"I'm sorry, Mr Plorp," I said apologetically. Eyeing him as he briefly looked out the window as hover crafts flew by and aliens, robots and humans walked the streets.
"You better be," He turned back to me, both his handless arms behind his back, his black button eyes curiously narrowed on me. "I'll give you a second chance, son. But I warn you, if you don't change your attitude towards work, I'll let you go." He slithered behind the counter and into the backroom, peering back out and looked at me. "Ask me anything and please be on time when you have hours to attend to." Then he was in the backroom and slowly carted back in the room, pushing a large wooden cabinet with glass door and he placed it in the less cluttered part of the shop.
With a shake of my head and smirk playing on my lips, I went over and helped him move it to the wall, dusting my hands after from the amount of muck that had rested on the surfaces.
"Now, Jim," He was already out of breath as he patted his beaded sweaty forehead, or what I think it was. "There's a contractor of mine arriving soon with some new antiques, please go and unload them as soon as they arrive." He slimed back into the backroom and I heard a door squeak open and silently shut. I believe he headed for the 2nd floor either to do more work, or just sleep it off.
I waited at the front of the shop, watching as anyone passed by that I knew. Which was no-one, I didn't have many friends or acquaintances. The sun gleamed through the windows onto the objects it reached; I heard children's laughter close by since the beach was filled with people and aliens.
I heard the engine of a low hover machine, I seen through the window of the huge metal parts on the top and the rickety flamed exhaust that slowly went around the side door.
I sighed and picked myself up from the stool behind the counter and found the side door to the side of a large and heavy cabinet, the side door would be unnoticeable since the cabinet covered it up well.
I exited into the warmth of the wind yet coldness of the shadow since the sun had already timed itself on the other side of the shop, and other side of our planet.
"Son, Mr. Plorp here?" A fat alien tumbled out of the craft. He was a friendly man, he had a small head that was covered in red fur except his face, which he had a distinctive big nose and lower jaw was more pronounced, and his brow hovered over his eyes, casting his dark black eyes in shadow. He reached to about my waist with stumpy legs and short arms, the back of his small yet sausage like fingers were also covered in smaller red hairs and his accent was rich Jevenure, a language popular in south of Montresser.
"I'm his new worker, Jim Hawkins." I firmly shook the small aliens hand and he smiled back, his bottom teeth showing.
"Nice to meet you, boy," He waddled over to the craft and unlocked the boot, a metal sheet quickly lifted to show a few box's that were new with what I expected, old and expensive antiques. "I'm Humphry Sumphuller. But everyone calls me Stump. I know, it's pretty ironic." He had a deep chuckle that I chimed in with.
He turned back to me and pointed behind him. "You unload these while I have a little chat with Mr. Plorp on the next delivery, Jim." He waddled into the side door and behind the counter into the backroom as I turned back to the boot full of valuables.
I sighed and rubbed my eyes before I started to pick up quite heavy box's and heaved them into the shop and backroom and began to pile up. I managed to pile up about 3 box's and went back out to the craft to see a small child whose leg was made of metal parts and was quietly whirring to function as he stood on his tiptoes to peek in, and I barely heard him whisper in awe.
"Hey," I said softly and kneeled by the boy who gently cowered at my voice. He had bright blue eyes and hair the same colour of mine, a rich brown. He pointed into the boot and back at me.
"They're cool." I thought he was looking at the box's, but noticed the more boxes I had taken out, the more the antiques were just in see through glass cases with wooden or metal panelling.
"I know, right." I smiled at him, looking back at the boot with odd trinkets, and noticed there was a small tin by one of the glass cases, and I heard the boy murmur an 'ouch' at his leg and rubbed at his eyes and had a sad pout. "Your leg hurtin' you?" I asked softly, watching as he looked down at his leg and bent his knee slowly and looking back at me.
"I was in a hover car accident when I was three." He held up three fingers and the first I noticed the last two fingers on the end were also made of parts of machinery that slowly worked. "My mummy says I'm her lucky charm that I survived." His smiled boomed sun-shine bright and I smiled back at him.
I reached into the boot and grabbed the tin by the glass case and cracked opened the rusted tin to find old century playing cards that were quite valuable. The boy wouldn't know that, though. I closed the tin shut and held my finger to my lips. "Don't tell anyone I gave you this." And smiled a safe and promising smirk, and handed the tin to the boy who took a little time to open it.
The boy gasped as he peered inside and smiled up at me with a toothy grin, his eyes squinty from his cheeks being so high. "Thank you so much!" He quickly came into my space and hugged me before running off towards the beach in an odd sprint that was lopsided.
I smiled and rose to my feet and grabbed the last cardboard box that to the left that was the lightest box there was and began to head to the side door, spotted Mr. Plorp and Stump chatting in the front window, noticing they wouldn't have seen me give that little boy them cards. But I heard a noise to my right, but that was the cliff edge to the sea.
I turned my head to see first see red hair, and saw it was stuck to a pale yet healthy coloured face. A girl, with brightly coloured lips and big blue eyes that stared at the front window, she then covered her lips in shock from what she saw of Mr. Plorp.
In shock myself, I let the box stupidly slip through my hands and it crashed to the ground at me feet, it tipped open and shattered glass flew out, brass handles and odd sphere balls rolled out and I watched as her eyes met mine.
It was quiet all of a sudden, and a few beats of my heart went by quick, and I heard it from my ear. Her blood red hair was stuck to her forehead and around her cheeks and down her chest which was hidden from the cliff edge, her hand slowly coming from her mouth and her mouth twitching.
"Umm, hi...?" It trailed off into a question, but I couldn't answer her in time because Mr. Plorp and Stump came from the side door and analysed the damage I done to the new antiques, and I looked back to see a whip of her blood red hair ascend down.
"Jim?" Mr. Plorp spitted out, looking at me confusingly, and I looked back at the cliff edge as if it would answer for me. But she was gone, and they both looked at me with puzzled expressions.
"Sorry, sir." I bent down quick and picked up the remaining odd bits of antiques that were salvageable. "I saw-Err, a mutant rat!" A mutant rat could live and fester among the cliff edges in burrows on the actual cliffs; they were the size of hover car engines and tails as strong as wire rope and were known to tear a seagull to bits.
"Oh those rats have been into my shop once, took a chair leg to one and never came back." Mr. Plorp numbly crossed his arms and stared angrily at the ground, then sadly at the busted box in my arms with shattered pieces inside. "But what about the antiques?" He breathed sadly.
I stared coldly at the contents broken because of me and pulled a face before looking back at Mr. Plorp and Stump by his side, very low down. "I'll work for them, sir. I won't take any pay for the prices they were." I knew it'd take a lot, so I probably would have any pay for the next year because of this.
"Jim, they're a lot, I don't believe you'll be paid for a while." He smiled at the end of his short trunk snout. "I guess you'll really be working voluntarily." He did an odd cackle that came and went with snorts.
Mr. Plorp went back into the shop while Stump went behind me, smiled awkwardly at me and patted my back before climbing into his craft and being on his way.
But I looked back at the cliff edge, the fence a little damp where her went hands and head had been, a little finger mark in the ground where I guessed she dragged herself up.
I dropped the box gently on the ground and peered over the edge of the fence, gently leaning on it since it creaked dangerously. I just saw the waters crash against the Cliffside, the strong scent of salt water and seaweed wafted into my nose, but something caught my eye.
Even though the waters were dark and casted in shadow from the sun, I spotted a colourful green shape powering up towards to north of our town, heading straight for my mother's Benbow Inn at the top of the town. And further up of the colourful green oddity, I saw the bold blood red hair swift with her actions.
It can't be, can it? The legendary siren? The mermaid?
I smiled to myself and rested more on the fence, and cursed and backed up, cautious as it creaked some more and even budged down the direction it was already going.