Mr. Plorp was giving me good work to do, from the mess I made yesterday; I thought he'd forget about the no-pay-for-a-year plan and fire me. But so far, he's kept me on and been nice to me.
I was shifting boxes around and placing new collectables in glass cases and cabinets. Washing and wiping down furniture and glass, dust gathering in my nose I sneezed multiple times, sweeping the floors and fixing up more glass cabinets that Mr. Plorp ordered.
Then I heard the first sweep of rain hit the windows. I looked up from a neat little magnet toy from a few hundred years ago on the counter, stopped my little smile and pursed my lips from the dull clouds lining the skies, an evil colour of grey ascending the clouds, with an animalistic sound to it.
"I'm off out, son," Mr. Plorp buttoned his too-tight vest, setting up his little umbrella machine, a little box robot that follows you anywhere on its wheels, a large pole that boomed into a makeshift umbrella. "There are more antiques that need to be placed in glass cases on the 2nd floor." He muttered out, more like slimed out. I nodded at the rain.
"I hope you're getting good transportation, sir. That rain looks like its getting worse." I placed the toy down and lazily walked to Mr. Plorp, looking out the window to see, after about a minute or so, the cracks on the roads were filling with water quickly.
"I'm getting a cab," He opened the door, the sound of thunder boomed into the shop. "Be a good lad and keep out of trouble." He tipped his new cowboy hat at me and smiled at the tip of his trunk.
I settled back into my seat, huffing after 20 minutes of nothing, no customers and no excitement. When I finished building another glass case and put it upstairs, I heard the door open from the other room.
I shook my head and forced a smile, my first customer of working two days here. I walked from the back room and spotted the little boy from yesterday at a glass case with Captain Flint's sword with assorted lights to make it stand out.
"Oh, wow!" He gushed, his nose up against the glass, causing it to fog up. His bright blue eyes filled with excitement that I couldn't help but make the most of it for him.
"Oh, do you see that?" I pointed over to a glass case, watching him from the corner of my eye as he peeked over his shoulder and eyes bugged out even more.
"What is it?" He looked at me, searching for answers.
"It's an ancient device," I strode over to the case and watched as he followed me like a little Pup. "Before our time, humans used to use these things to heat up food." I looked at the clean yet broken microwave. It was cool to look at, but you wonder why people would use something so heavy and took so long to heat when they could create something so much more diverse and awesome like the Tick, an oval white machine that heated up food at your chosen temperature.
"Oh, does it still work?" He gushed, touching the glass with his fingers; I heard the clink of metal from his other fingers that were robotic and pouted sadly.
"Nope, but this does!" I patted his back gently and ran over to behind the counter where, from the other side was visible antiques. I opened the wooden back slide of the counter and picked out what humans used to call an iPhone. It was sleek and white with a flat black screen. But Mr. Plorp had special people come in to fix it, and when I pressed the top button, it shone to life and I heard the boy gasp in amazement.
"Holy Montressor!" He gaped at the phone as I placed it on the counter. He picked it up and tapped the screen and watched in awe as the Home screen of the iPhone came up. "This is so cool!" He clicked on some of the Apps of the iPhone and squealed in joy as it played old country music, and he funnily bobbed his head to the tune.
"Pretty cool, huh?" I leaned on the counter and watched him. He gave it back and, from his back pocket, brought out the cards I gave him yesterday. They still looked neat and in place, but in a new tin.
"My mummy wanted me to 'take it back where I found it.'" The boy had a saddened face and had a teary sheen to his eyes as he stood on his toes and robot feet to place it numbly on the counter.
I looked at the cards and rubbed my jaw, watching the boy's expression, his whole aura, go miserable. "You know...If I take these back, something bad can happen." The boy's attention perked up as he stared at me. "If these cards are back in this place," I gestured at the shop. "And they go into the wrong hands; massive destruction could rip our planet to shreds!" I shrieked, and the little boy's eyes widened as if his life depended on this. "So...What's your name?" I smiled and whispered.
"Oscar Wilde!" He beamed.
"I dub these magical cards to thee, Sir Oscar Wilde." I held up the cards with great triumph and handed them into the open hands of little Oscar who gripped them and cooed at them.
"I will keep these safe!" He jumped on the spot and ran to the front door. "Thank you, Sir!" He waved back at me before disappearing into the rain.
I chuckled to myself and leaned back into my stool, perching on the back wall, balancing myself as I stared at the door.
That kid has a heart of pure gold. But he could grow up either way. With his pure kindness and mannerism, he could grow up to be such a gentleman, ignoring his robotic disability and be a noble man and have a well earning job.
Or end up like me. Ignoring everyone and disobeying the authorities. Getting into trouble because of his disability, trying to prove in selfish ways that he can do whatever he wants.
I hope he turns out the way I hope he will. To be a true gentleman, he could make it.
A few minutes passed and I sold my first antique for £5o Gold, which was a great deal. I felt so high in myself, yet realised that Mr. Plorp has been doing this for years and probably sold more than £100,000 gold. Then I felt crap about myself.
Just when I was about to go to my mother's up town for some dinner, I was in the back room when I heard the front door open and slam. With a red flag flashing in the back of my mind, I took caution to sneak to the entrance of the back room. I quickly zipped around the corner to find Oscar, a little wet from the rain, leaking water from his robotic limbs onto the wood floor.
I sighed and looked at him, ready to say something, then seen the look of horror in his eyes. He looked shaken, not too much, but something was wrong. "What is it, Osc?" I didn't care on what to nickname my new little pal; I ran to him quickly and bent to his level.
"A weird lady on the beach," He stammered on 'lady' and 'beach'. Damn, it could be a foreign alien that so happened to land their spaceship on the beach. Maybe this weather was perfect for her/them at this temperature?
I sighed again and laughed it off. "Osc, it could be a visitor from another planet-"
"She has no legs and bloody hair." The first thing I caught on was 'no legs'. It couldn't be a cut up body? A murder? Then 'bloody hair' snagged at my memory. The girl from yesterday, the one that vanished within seconds from when she spoke?
"Are you sure?" I looked into his big blue eyes; they were trembling as well as his hands griping the cards, his flesh turning white.
"She said she's 'friendly'." He pouted. With that, I ran into the back room and back to Oscar, opened the door and slammed it shut, locking it and putting the keys into my black coat pocket.
Even if it were raining, I didn't want Oscar to endure whatever was truly there, for all he knew, it could be a cut up female body and I didn't want his fragile mind contorted by such horrors. Even if he has experienced such already... "Stay here." I demanded, looking into his eyes as I jogged down the path to the beach as the rain got into my eyes and I had to squint to see.
The air smelt like ship fumes, wet mud and pavement and sea water. It was bitter in my nose, my hair already seeping with rain water. Trying to keep my eyes open, but the water kept pelting into my eyes and stung as if someone poked my eyes.
I neared the beach; the once bright yellow sparkling partials were now sodden with water, the colour of a surfer's sandy blonde hair. Yes...We still get surfers. I heard the rush of violent waves that were slowly calming, and weirdly enough, the sun pierced the thick clouds and shone light upon the sickening colour sand.
It lit the way towards the beach, slowly as I ran towards it. And I saw her.
I stopped short, breathing hard as I stared at her. She was fumbling over a large boulder that looked rotten with moss. Her arms numbly landing on her stomach, her head to the ground, her blood red hair sticking to her body, covered in sand and shells stuck to her like a badly decorated bathroom. But that...Thing at her waist...No, it is her waist! It looked like a huge green Slurp alien had eaten her from the feet and gave up at her waist.
"There she is!" I looked to my side to see Oscar, pointing at her with his cards in his other hand, his attention drawn only to her.
I heard her move, the sound of crunching sand as she moved her head. She raised her elbow to lean on it, and with large blue eyes and lips full of colour, she stared at me, wide eyed and a tick in her cheek.
I was sick with confusion, yet I ran to her. I was scared to see what it was like see her bottom half up close. She reeked of seat water, and her flesh started to dry from the water.
Her head went limp back into the sand, and I heard people start to be social since the sun was out. I looked behind me to see mingling adults and squealing children. I looked back at her, her lips closed, a slight smile playing them.
I looked down at her tail, it was scaly green, and the end was like silk fins that were a little torn. On her scaled green tail red gashes were here and there, seeping red blood. And it looked unhealthily dry, even if I didn't know if she was this...Siren or mermaid, I knew it didn't look right.
I dabbed her tail, a slight sliminess to it, but it was warm, which I believed was a bad, bad thing. Her eyes fluttered to stay open, going from my eyes to Oscar by my side. I heard his rapid breathing in my ear I was scared I'd flinch and poke her in the eye or something.
"She's boiling," I felt my mind tick like a bomb, the sound of children making my nerves bob up and down like the seas at the moment. "She must need water," Her eyes shut firmly, like a weight dragged them down. Shock and a quiet shit hit my mind. "Hey, wake up!" I urged, gently patting her cheek which dried sand tumbled off, she was definitely healthy. But her lids didn't even move and dread filled me even more. "Damn." I growled and shook off my bulky jacket. It wasn't big, but it was long enough to cover her tail, which I flailed it over and patted it down so it wouldn't be seen by the public, who would make an uproar if they seen her.
I was in a crouching position; I slid my arm under her cool back, slightly catching her shell top which was quite an eyeful I had to look away forcefully. I laced my hand under her tail that thankfully bent like knees would, and I heaved. Her upped half of her body was light as I imagined Oscar would weigh, but her tail was Mr. Plorp heavy.
I gushed as I hauled her up; having a good grip on her, her arm flopping outwards as her other was by my side, her hair still stuck to her face and neck, shells falling out as well as the sand clinging to my arms.
"What are we going to do with her?" Oscar asked intently as he strode by my side. I thought that over in my head for a few seconds. What am I going to do with her? I can't leave her there on the open beach as people poked at her and gushed over her odd bottom half and probably brought in to our top notch scientists to discover which alien planet she comes from.
No, I have to take her to my house, which is the top half of the Benbow Inn. I heaved again as her body was drooping from my arms a little, she smelt so strongly of sea water that I gagged.
Outside of the shop, Mr. Plorp arrived just on time. He looked at me for the first second, then at the girl in my arms. He couldn't see her weird tail since my coat shrouded it well, but he looked deeply concerned as he paid for his cab ride.
"Oh my word, who is this young woman?" He slithered over and I shouted at the cab driver who was about to take off, he stopped and looked at me from his window of his hover craft.
"I-"I couldn't think of anything, other than the next thing that came out of my mouth. "I know her; she's just been in the water and hit her head on...On a rock." I choked out, but Mr. Plorp looked totally convinced as he flew both limbs to his chest.
"Poor thing," He patted her hair, but I tentatively drew back a little, not enough to notice, but only to make sure he doesn't see. I looked down at Oscar who was still by my side; in pure shock that all he could do was stare at what was under my coat on her body. "Make sure she gets checked out, lad." He tried the front door of his shop when I was teetering over to the cab, which Oscar willingly opened the back door for.
"Keys, Jim?" He held out his floppy limb for his keys, which I winced, because they so happened to be in my coat pocket...On the inside...
"Oscar..." I began, hoping he knew what page I was on. But he was just staring at her tail, eyes wide and mouth agape I was afraid he'd choke on words to do with her tail. "Oscar!" I yelped, and he snapped back to attention, which he gave me it with an odd expression. "Can you get Mr. Plorp's keys from my coat pocket? On the inside?" I asked, my tone seemed normal, but underneath it was laced with fear. I held my breath as he nodded numbly and reached for my coat, praying that it didn't slide off of her tail.
He retrieved the keys and I mentally sighed like a fat man who just ran a marathon. I placed her gently in the back of the cab, which she filled. I struggled to close the door, and noticed the hover car was now on a slight angle, dipping from the weight of her tail.
I grabbed the keys of Oscar and threw them to Mr. Plorp who caught them with a small smile, and nodded as I climbed into the cab, and Oscar was already there, waiting to get in.
"Where do I sit?" He looked around the inside of the cab, looking back at the girl. I heard the cab driver grouching from his time pitifully being wasted.
"Oscar, I need you to do me a mission, okay?" His eyes, once again, beamed as he gripped the cards in his hands he momentarily forgot. "She is a lost alien who is being chased, so I need you to be hush, hush about this and we can help her get home, alright?" I needed to keep him quiet, and with the help of his wild imagination and adventure in him, it would all go well smoothly, I hope.
He nodded and saluted me. "You can count on me...What is your name?" He smiled, knowing it's the same kind of moment when I asked for his.
"My name is Jim, Oscar." I saluted him back. "Jim Hawkins."