Instead of telling them that he made the decision to change where they were teleporting to, he kept his mouth shut. The idea of poppin' in to say hello to Astor and his father was haunting him for nearly a week now so, instead of showing up at the big structure that was at the town's far left side, they appeared before a store that was called The Pawn Cave—which was, more or less, on the town's other side. Guyunis knew at once where they were; he wasted not a second in getting away from the only adult that was in their group. Eshal and his father, on the other hand, looked around before turning to look at him... or, more at his backside, since he was already on his way to the door of the store that they teleported to.
While this part of town wasn't bad, it did have that old look and feel to it. Some of the buildings were lacking bricks in places, while others had boarded-up windows. The cobblestone walkway, that was under his feet, was really what made this part of town look and feel old. Astor Bonnaire Sr.'s shop was close to where an old gang once did its illegal business; Mr. Bonnaire didn't really speak at length about the gang, but he did let it slip about one of his family being a member of it. Mr. Bonnaire claimed that the gang, which went by the name of Black Gremium 36, mostly did robberies. This gang of mostly young teenagers had robbed the towns and communities around here for all of twenty or so years before finally deciding to move to a different town... which they didn't have much luck in plundering. The Black Gremium 36 had changed leadership after the move was made; their new leader, having grown tired of doing petty crimes, had made the decision to turn his petty criminal hoodlums into the real deal hoodlums that carjacked cars, kidnapped certain civilians, smuggled and distributed drugs, and killed for the sake of killing. About ten years after the move to Gernsbach was done, the Black Gremium 36 went extinct; the new leader, some fellow by the name of Ercanbald Berlepsch, was the last of it to perish. From what Mr. Bonnaire told him, the FBI and local police were after the gang for some time before finally tracking and then trapping it in one of Gernsbach's warehouses. Along with a big stand-off occurring, Ercanbald Berlepsch was the last to be on his feet after the bullets stopped being fired. Instead of admitting defeat, and accepting that he was caught, Ercanbald took his pistol then fired one final bullet—which went straight through his head.
He waited a few months before asking who in Mr. Bonnaire's family was involved with the gang. Mr. Bonnaire, though reluctant to speak much of the issue, had whispered two words before returning to his shop's counter. The man's second uncle, Theobald Hollweg, was one of the gang's most successful thieves; unlike Ercanbald Berlepsch, he was still alive... just serving a lot of time in the slammer for his crimes. Theobald had, apparently, moved to a different gang of ruffians soon after the Black Gremium 36 decided to move to Gernsbach; life of crime had meant so much to him that he would do anything to be involved with any old gang that was around. Unfortunately, the gang that he joined wasn't a very close-knit one, or one that compromised of plain criminals. A bunch of police officers had managed to infiltrate it; Theobald Hollweg was taken one cold night after a surprise raid was done.
The building that he and Guyunis were going towards was one of the longer buildings on the street. Other than there being a yellow or green brick missing here and there, it was in good shape. A few weeks ago, one of the windows was blown out by someone who had one too many; the window, which was boarded up the next day, had only just had its glass replaced. Up to about five or so years ago, the building was used as a bakery; Mr. Bonnaire converted it to a pawn shop soon after purchasing it.
"Hey, Astor!" he said in a slightly elevated, inside voice. He entered the building quickly then went to the back counter, where his buddy was.
"Hey y—"
While he was a little more sturdy upstairs, and a little more lenient in his thinking than his sister was, he came very close to reconsidering his friendship with Lhaklar last week. Meeting his friend's fader hadn't really gone well; the man seemed to be right strict, and to have a strange way of seeing how one of his and his son's age acted. If not for his parents, he would of come very close to breaking his and Lhaklar's friendship. It also took the combined efforts of Jarvis's parents to prevent the same thing from happening. Jarvis had obviously spoken of what happened; from what he was told, his parents gave him the "lecture" on who he should be placing "judgement" on.
Though happy to see his friend, he wasn't but so happy to see who his company was. He was about to say 'hey you old, ugly, green fool' when the shop's door opened. One look at the man that was his friend's fader caused him to do a brutal checking on his wording. Instead of saying what he wanted to say, he "bored" up.
"Hey Lhaklar." Astor said.
While Lhaklar had a more "age-appropriate" dress-sense to him, his fader didn't. His friend's fader had a strange, adult dress-sense to himself; Mr. Surfeit, as he was called, was wearing a striped, dark green tuxedo. The tuxedo's jacket had a long, split tail on the back that went all the way to the floor. The shoes, that were on his feet, were both very formal, shiny, and a very dark green color. The tie, that was around his neck, matched the tuxedo perfectly. The vest, that was under the jacket, was also a dark green color; it had artichoke green ties on it. The shirt, that was under the vest, was long sleeved; the buttons, that went down its front, looked of real gold. There were belled cuffs at the ends the shirt's arms. Astor took one look at this strange, six foot, one inch man before turning his attention back to his friend; he was just gathering air to speak when his fader stepped out from the shop's back storage.
"Lhaklar? Didn't know you had an older bruder who looks almost like you." Astor Bonnaire Sr. said after seeing who it was that was in the building.
"What do you know, y'went from being my father to my brother in a little under an hour." Lhaklar said to his father.
"Fa..." Astor Bonnaire Sr.'s dull green eyes went wide behind his slim, half-frame glasses after he realized his mistake. "I apologize, sir. I seriously thought you was—"
"No offense felt. My boy and I are always being mistaken for being brothers." TazirVile said.
"They say that the oldest son takes after the fader most in appearance, it does look like the truth with the likes of you and I." Astor Bonnaire Sr. said.
With the two men currently "engaged" in conversation about adult matters that dealt with offspring inheritance of appearances from the paternal figure, he, Guyunis, and Astor moved off to where the store's far left side was. Astor Bonnaire Sr., who looked very much like his friend, kept the place very well organized; there were glass counters full of jewelry, watches, glass, bronze, and porcelain collectibles, and the odd and end type of memorabilia on this side of the building. On the other side of the building sat more glass counters that contained tools, knives, and old items that he still couldn't place a name to. A mostly wooden counter, that had glass siding on its sides, was in the building's center; all sorts of guns were in it. Eshal was currently looking at the books and music and video discs that were on the bookcases that were on the side of the shop that he, Guyunis, and Astor were on. The building's carpet was a diamond-patterned blue and yellow color, while the walls and ceiling were a brownish-yellow color.
"Dude!" Guyunis exclaimed after seeing the B.C. Rich guitar that was hanging from one of the wall's hooks. While the guitar's base-color was black, it had all sorts of blue, white, and yellow electric designs on it. It had an Avenge-SOB hard tail body type to it.
"Like that eh?" Astor smiled, then went towards the guitar. "The guy who brought that in found himself unable to get it back, so dat put it up then slapped a price-tag on it."
"E-k-xpensive?" Guyunis asked.
"€300." Astor said.
"I best turn him around before he gets any ideas about wanting to turn into a guitarist." Lhaklar said.
"With his looks, think he'd fit in very well with a rock 'n roll or metal band." Astor said. Before Guyunis moved off, he punched his fist into Astor's own. "Okay, now that common talk's done, what're you doing lugging your old man around? Shouldn't he be causing mayhem at your place?"
"A sort of "intervention" happened last week with a few of the neighbors and our friend, Mr. Leinart. Think the man was scared straight." Lhaklar replied in a low whisper.
"Seems to be getting along well with my dat," Astor said. "Better grab one of Guyunis's chains; I've got my usual leash. When you leave, we'll have to be forceful in separating them."
"I heard that." Astor Bonnaire Sr. said right when they started to laugh. Mr. Bonnaire's admittance of hearing what they said made them laugh even louder.
Like the human—a rather intelligent, and friendly, gent—he also heard the reference to his son needing a chain to drag him from the establishment. While he was struck by what the boys said, he was keeping the bit tight on himself. Lhaklar and his friend, who he was still on the fence about, were just acting their age and gender, he told himself. He finished his conversation with Mr. Bonnaire then moved off to see how Eshal was doing. She looked to be rather enthused in looking at what was on one of the establishment's bookcases; he looked into her quickly before moving off to where the center-lying counter was.
He was a little irked over his son's little "side-trip". Lhaklar had said that he and Guyunis were going to the town's community center; he said nothing about coming here. This part of town didn't look favorable, or safe for one of his son's age. This part of town looked shady, and he bet a good many shady characters worked, lived, or just plain stood around, looking for trouble, here. After seeing where his son took him, Guyunis, and Eshal, he was near to willing to grab him by the shoulder then going back home; his son, and Guyunis, had beat him to the building, so he wasn't able to do that. He and Eshal had followed them into the building; while Eshal wasn't very familiar with establishments of this caliber, he was. Long before moving to Moas, and marrying Bespe, he was an employee at one of Tostaxi's—the city where he spent a good chunk of his bachelor days in—more renown pawn shops.
His father had done more than frown after learning that he, a fresh-comer to the bachelor scene, had taken on a job that a normal peasant would have. A lot of yelling, and cut-down letters, and ill-promises were made; his father had wanted him to jump right into the conquering game. He had wanted him, who had yet to fill out, or gain the full mind known to be possessed by a fully mature man, to gather an army then conquer a galaxy. The preservation of the family name, and the proof of the family still being as strong as it was before Shlock's Plague struck, was heavy on the man's mind; even though Kuruk was also on the bachelor scene, working on his mind and body, and getting ready for when the time came for him to finally go out to make a name for himself, he hadn't heard or gotten anything negative from the old man. For reasons only their father knew, Kuruk wasn't meant to be a conqueror; even though he was less sturdily built, the whole weight of carrying the family name fell on his shoulders. According to his father, he, back when he was younger, was doing nothing but "sitting" around, collecting dust in his bachelor's apartment and piddling around with a peasant's job.
His conquering days happened after he got over most of the emotions felt by his father's "loss". Before that day came, he promised himself to do the man proud by finally following in his footsteps; he did that after moving to Moas, then going out to conquer the Vaisha Galaxy. Even though his father regarded him as a conqueror, he still didn't regard him in the full definition of one. Sadly, the man had Kuruk so far shoved up his ass that he could care less about giving him any good words or regarding; he was his father's third, but second surviving, son, and he was built, thought, and went by life different than Kuruk... He'd always be considered the underling to his older half-brother.
"Now that's pretty," he thought of the first gun that his eye landed on. The gun was one of them old, Wild West-types—a Colt single-action army revolver that had engravings on the barrel and a solid bone grip. While intrigued by the design, he moved on—he had such a gun in his collection, so there was no need to consider looking at it further or purchasing it.
The gun that met his eye next caught none of his fancy. He couldn't tell what it was because of the patina that was on it. The patina, or dust, had eaten just about everything away. If not for the general shape, he would of asked why such a monstrosity was on-display... and why it was being sold. As it was, he thought that it should be removed from the counter that it was in then thrown away—if anyone had brought anything like it to his old workplace, he or she would surely find themselves as being laughed at.
A few 9 mm pistols; an old, knuckle duster pistol; two old, London Pocket pistols; a German Shutzen rifle; and an empty rifle block was what met his eyes next. He came very close to asking if he could see the German Shutzen rifle up close. The gun's body was unique; he had never seen such a make like it before in his life. After giving it a good ponder, he decided to just turn then wait by the building's door; he wasn't here to spend money, or look at the displayed items, or engage in further conversation with the building's owner, he told himself. He was only here because his son made the decision to change the location of where they were originally planning on going.
He was turning to leave the display counter when something suddenly caught his eye, and fancy. The split tail of his jacket swished by his ankles quickly after he turned back towards the display counter; when he performed a squat, his eyes met nothing but the item that caught his attention. It took him just two minutes to make up his mind on calling Mr. Bonnaire over and then asking if he could see the pistol that his peripheral vision had noticed. Eshal, Lhaklar, Guyunis, and Mr. Bonnaire's young son watched as the lock on the counter's glass side was undone, then as its glass side was slid open. Mr. Bonnaire, handling himself like any other pawnbroker would, took the pistol from its display then held it out to him. He thanked him, then took it, then started examining it.
"It's been in the shop for a while now," Mr. Bonnaire said after he started examining the pistol that he asked to see.
How no one had managed to snag such a fine gun like the one that he was examining was beyond him; what he was holding was a fine example of what the extinct Tuctians use to make and use. The humans called this type of gun a Flintlock when, originally, it use to be called the Tuclock—named after both the species that created it and for the fact that it could be tucked into one's pants or boots. The gun was in very fine condition; the hammer, the top and top jar screw, the pan, and the frizzen and frizzen spring were all intact and in near-perfect condition. The four barrels that were on it looked to have a form of gold plating on them, while the grip was an emboss black color, which he did think was unique. There was a swirl pattern design engraved on the grip; each of the designs that were on it were white, which stood out well on the piece. The trigger had a little dust and wear and tear on it, but that could be repaired with a little maintenance.
"Point-fifty cal., right?" he asked.
"Yessir," Mr. Bonnaire responded quickly.
"Do you know the exact name and number of this?" he asked.
"The number? No—that disappeared some time ago." Mr. Bonnaire replied. "It's a Flintlock Duckfoot 4-Barrel—the fellow that brought it in was French."
"Surprised that no one's come in to purchase it," he said as he gave the piece back to its owner, who was giving him a quizzical look. "While I'm interested, I'm afraid that I have no license that shows me as a citizen of this country, or planet."
If he wasn't bound by laws, and wouldn't be running the risk of losing the license that allowed him to be a pawnbroker, he'd go on and sell the man the gun without asking for a valid I.D. that showed him as being a citizen of Germany. It didn't matter if the pawnbroker was new on the scene or was working the business for all of their adult lives; at the end of the month, a receipt and all the basic information on the purchaser/purchasers of the items that were sold at a pawnshop had to be submitted. No excuses were accepted; it was either submit them two items or do a complete close-up of your shop. In the seven years that he was owning and working this building, he had never had the law come after him or be questioned over who bought this item or that item that was sold. He wasn't Uncle Theo; he was to do things by the books and, from what he could tell, the alien before him seemed to understand this. He appreciated that. Astor had said something about the man being of the strict and strange sort; as far as he could tell, he was neither. As was natural, he was nervous and a little bit shy of engaging the others around him; the five minute conversation, that they had, had shown him that he was also of the highly intelligent sort, which he, again, appreciated. He was relieved over not having to give him the explanation on why he needed to show a valid license that showed him as being citizen of Germany before making any pawn shop-based purchases.
He, Astor Hermann Bonnaire Sr., the husband of Aliet Kreipe, the actual father of Astor Hermann Bonnaire Jr., but the stepfather of his wife's daughter, Ada, was in the process of putting the gun back on its display when the boy that he did business with on more than one occasion stepped up. The boy cleared his throat before getting his attention; when he turned to look at him, he noticed that he had his wallet out. It looked like Lhaklar, who looked a deal like the man that he just showed the Flintlock pistol to, was taking a laminated square from his wallet. Even though he placed the gun back on its acrylic stand, he didn't place the glass siding of the counter back in place or lock the counter up.
"Noticed that you were right interested in that piece," Lhaklar said to his father after he turned to look at him. After speaking to his father, Lhaklar acknowledged Mr. Bonnaire. "Would he be able to make any purchases here if my license was used?"
"Technically, no. If he was the one doing the purchasing, he'd have to use his own license." Astor Bonnaire Sr. replied.
"Don't suppose you'd sell that piece to me, then do a witnessing of me signing it over to him after the purchase is done?" Lhaklar asked.
"I'd be able to do that, yes." Astor Bonnaire Sr. said. "You over the age of twenty-one?"
"Yes," Lhaklar replied, then added, "and then some."
Astor Bonnaire Sr. thought long and hard about the possible purchase. Lhaklar, though known to be one of Miss. Irene's kids, was also known to be well over the legal age that one had to be in order to legally purchase a firearm. Would he get into trouble for selling a gun to a known kid, who was well over the age that a human was allowed to purchase firearms, or would the purchase be allowed? Lhaklar, he knew, had a valid I.D. that showed him as being a citizen of his country—the kid came in wanting to purchase a few knives nearly a year ago; he sent him on his way without selling him a thing because of his not having a license that showed him as being a German citizen. He came under the belief that he'd never see him again; it was a big surprise on his part to see him coming back to his shop a few days later. Lhaklar, as far as he was concerned, was a good, respectable, and responsible kid; he didn't mope or complain over his not being able to sell him the knives that he was interested in and he didn't go around running his mouth about him being "a tightwad" either. Lhaklar had gone by the law in getting himself a valid I.D. made so he could safely purchase items that one who didn't have a valid I.D. on his or her person couldn't.
Lhaklar's friendship with his son, and stepdaughter, was another surprise. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought of himself as having members of his family being on friendly terms with any of Miss. Irene's children. He and Aliet had done plenty of blinking after seeing their two children coming home with Lhaklar one day. Astor and Ada had wanted to "show-off" their new friend; even though he was shown off, Lhaklar didn't act arrogant or snobby. Hands were shook; good, pleasant words were spoken; Lhaklar gave a little bit of aid to his wife, who, at the time, was trying to find the set of sewing needles that she dropped on the floor of their living room; then an hour to an hour and a half visit happened before Lhaklar went on his way. In his and his wife's eye, Lhaklar was a once in a lifetime type of friend; they were more than accepting of his friendship with their children... which was why he and Aliet were so shocked over learning that their son was giving it the thought about dropping him as a friend a week ago.
"Don't suppose you'd tell anyone the reason behind this thought of yours on dropping your friend?" he asked after learning what he did.
"No, you've got to twist my arm before I spill the beans." his son said. The look that he gave his son had done the trick in getting him to talk; even as a young child, Astor couldn't resist talking after he looked at him with one eye half-dropped and the eyebrow opposite it raised high. "After what happened today, when I, Jarvis, and Ada went to Lhaklar's place, I'm not so sure that being a friend of his is the best thing to continue. His dat doesn't seem to be very nice."
"His what?"
"His dat—one of them Gray Alien guy's that took up residence in the Rastatter Rheinaue nature reserve—has been living under Miss. Irene's roof for a while now. He got real hot under the collar after Lhaklar started talking tough to me and Jarvis. Even though we were just goofing around, he still insisted on our leaving."
"So, you're thinking about dropping your friend because of how his fader acted towards you three's playfulness?" he asked. His son nodded his head. "That doesn't sound like a good reason to drop a friend, son. Base your friendship on Lhaklar, not on his fader."
People, a lot of the time, change when they're outside of the home so he, in a lot of ways, found himself as having to take back what he thought of his son's friend's fader. Mr. Surfeit, as he introduced himself as being, might be a sort of Jekyll and Hyde; he decided to keep his eye on him, just in case he tried something while being in his shop.
He was weighing the odds of both favor and disfavor over the purchase, and was going through the motions of reconsidering who one of his two potential customers was, when his two customers walked off. Even though he stayed out of what they were doing, he tuned his ears as much as he could to hear what they were saying—who knew, maybe he could base his decision on the man by what was verbally exchanged between the two.
"What're you doing?" TazirVile asked his son.
"Helping you out," Lhaklar replied.
"You know you're too young to purchase guns." TazirVile said.
"I know that, yes... but he doesn't." Lhaklar replied.
"You and I could both get into trouble if what you're proposing to do is allowed to happen." TazirVile said. He placed his hand on his son's shoulder then leaned in so that what he said wasn't heard by anyone other than his son. "Don't think that I'm not appreciative of your help, son. I am. I truly am. But I can't allow for you to be shipped off to a juvenile correctional center for helping me in purchasing a gun."
"How'm I to be shipped off anywhere when no one other than you, me, and Mr. Bonnaire will know about the purchase?" Lhaklar said. "After making the purchase, take the gun home then stash it somewhere. Forge a document, or receipt or something that says that you made the purchase afterwards."
They spoke on the matter for a few minutes before he relented to what his son was proposing to do. Thanks to the job that he had in his bachelor days, he knew well how to write out receipts; the same went on his knowing how to imply signatures to them. Lhaklar had said something about getting the establishment's owner to sign the receipt after the purchase was made; if Mr. Bonnaire did that, he'd have something to impose on the falsified receipt that showed him as being the purchaser of the weapon that was about to be bought.
He and his son went to Mr. Bonnaire together; at first, the "Flintlock Duckfoot 4-Barrel" pistol was the only weapon removed from the counter, then, after careful deliberation, he asked for the German Shutzen rifle to be removed too. The transaction went smoothly. Lhaklar showed his I.D., then gave the needed funds—€250 for the pistol; €150 for the rifle. After the transaction was done, he stood by as his son wrote I, LhaklarVile Closu Surfeit, a civilian of Elchesheim-Illingen, Germany, purchased these two guns for my father, TazirVile Lajoshu Surfeit, who was present on the date (June 9, 4101) of purchase on the receipt's back. Mr. Bonnaire nodded his head, then did as was asked of him in signing under what was written; he thanked his son first, then the man who the guns were just purchased from, then gestured for Eshal and Guyunis to follow him from the building.
"You let me have those now." TazirVile said after leading the four youngsters a block from the pawnshop. Lhaklar, who had the guns on his person, did as he was told in handing them over. "Thank you. Think we need to head back to the house now. Let me put these under your mother's bed."
"Here," though he felt awkward in doing so, Lhaklar pulled the left side of his father's jacket to the side then slid the receipt in his pants pocket.
"Thank you," TazirVile said.
When they teleported, Lhaklar discovered the effect that his father picked out for himself during his Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic days: a gold glow was left behind, as was a triple-gold flash. Lhaklar thought the effect matched his father perfectly—it gave off an affluent feeling... with his father being what he was, rolling in dough, and having a good, affluent air around himself, he thought it suited him well. A Guyunis-sized explosion of white smoke was left behind after Guyunis teleported, while a series of clouds swirled around him when he teleported. He honestly thought that Eshal's post-teleportation effect was rather girly; her whole body took on a bright pink sheen before an explosion of purple and light red happened. As if the bright colors weren't bad enough, sparkles, and a whole hell of a lot of them, were left in his sister's wake after she teleported from where she was.
He unlocked the door for his father then stood idly by. Guyunis, though confused over what was to happen next, stood by the final step of the porch. Eshal walked up the stairs then grabbed him; she pulled him down to her level then spoke one sentence that he just couldn't help but smile at.
"I hope your little trip to see that loser friend of yours didn't cause daddy to reconsider our trip to the community center."
"You're rather cute when you're annoyed." he returned.
Their father came out of the house five minutes later. After giving them a few-second look-over, he said for him to take them to the place that they were originally slated to teleport to. He did so with no lip at all; they appeared near the community center five seconds later.
"Is that it?" Eshal asked after noticing the building that was to their immediate right.
"Yep." Lhaklar replied.
Like her father, she was annoyed over the sudden change that was made on their teleportation location. She didn't much like the idea of appearing in such a dangerous place, or in going into that dirty, second-hand store, and she didn't much like the idea of her brother taking up her valuable time in checking out the stores in a community center with his need of wanting to "check-in" on one of his dirty friends. She was, in a lot of ways, phenomenally surprised over her father actually looking at and then purchasing two things from that dirty pawnshop; he would normally purchase the items that he collected from private owners or auctions... not from dirty places where who knew what grew or waited in the shadows. She was also surprised that he allowed for Lhaklar to purchase something that one of his age wasn't allowed to purchase; she saw Lhaklar's two, little purchases as a way to butter their father up, which she thought was wrong on so many levels.
The building, that was a short distance from them, did not look like a community center. In her mind, them places were bigger, and had more levels to them. This building, while big, looked to have just one level to it. The exterior walls were a slate gray color while the roof was white; the roof was flat and smooth-looking. She couldn't help but be miserable during the entire five minutes that she was trudging behind her father, who looked to be following Lhaklar and Guyunis in a daze. After reaching the grounds that the building was on, they found themselves as having to walk down a stretch of dark gray tarmac—the likes, of which, surrounded the building's entire front side. The tarmac was littered in places with pieces of paper, plastic and paper bags, and discarded food items that the birds were having a field-day on; she had to bite her tongue when she spotted the off-spots of black and dark green slime and gunk that were on its surface.
While the community centers and malls back home didn't really have clean or clear tarmac's surrounding their front sides, their tarmac's were a whole heck of a lot more cleaner than this one's was. She was about to stop then put forth the suggestion that they go back to the house when her brother walked through an opening that appeared from out of nowhere—there was a pane of dirty, smudgy glass in front of him a second earlier... after stepping on the mat that was sitting before it, it disappeared. Guyunis followed Lhaklar into the building without missing a beat while her father looked hesitant to enter for a second or two before stepping past the opening. After staring at the spot where he was formerly standing at for ten seconds, she followed him.
"I stand corrected," she thought happily.
On the outside, it didn't look like much while, on the inside, it was humongous. This was, without a a doubt, the biggest community center that she had ever seen! She was quick in noting that the building was deceiving on the outside—on the outside, it looked like one of them one-level type of buildings while, on the inside, it was a two-plus level type of building. Down the stretch of hallway before her, there were three or four small kiosks that catered to folk who liked photography, various forms of perfumes and cosmetics, high and low-end jewelry, and to those who were looking for small gifts for their loved ones. After leaning to the side a bit, she saw the barely-there outline of another kiosk that was in the adjoining hallway—going by the color, and the hot dog that was on its side, she thought it was a food kiosk. To her left, there was a small clothing retail store; a store of equal size, but that sold electronics instead of clothing, was beside it and a store that looked to cater to the needs of one who liked to read magazines and books was beside it. To her right, there was a medium-sized novelty store; a small store that looked to sell all sorts of candy was beside it, while a small to medium-sized restaurant was beside it.
There was an escalator down the hall a ways; it revolved in a swirl-like fashion right up to the building's second floor. A map-like pillar, that had a slot in its center that was full of folded up papers, was to the left of it. When she looked at her feet, she saw that the floor had Galileo blue tiles on it; the ceiling and walls around her matched the color of the tiles perfectly. The scent of pretzels, french fries, burgers, cakes and cookies, and popcorn wafted into her nostrils after she took in the floor tiles and the color of the walls and ceiling; if not for the three pancakes that she had for breakfast, she'd have a hankering to try something from one of the food kiosks.
She was so transfixed by what she was seeing that she found herself as being left all by her lonesome by the very entrance that she used to get into the building. She retained the urge to yell out for her brother, her second adoptive brother, and her father to wait up for her as she hurried along to catch up to them. Her father, who seemed to be a little more in control of his mental capacities than her, was quick in grabbing one of the folded up pieces of paper that were in the map pillar's slot after Lhaklar and Guyunis stopped before the escalator. He opened the piece of paper—which her temporary slow in processing brain noted was actually a map of the building—then started looking at it.
"Think I speak for more than myself on this one, Boys—this is a big place, and it looks to be quite full of stores." her father said about thirty seconds after opening and then looking at the map.
"How many stores, daddy?" was all that she could manage to say.
"According to this, there's over a hundred in here." her father replied. He then showed her the map; indeed, there looked to be over a hundred stores in the building.
She saw restaurants and stores that revolved around clothing, shoes, jewelry, and arts and crafts. There were more than enough electronics, book and magazine, and stores that catered to both movie and music lovers in the building too. She did a quick scan of the novelty stores that were on the map before taking note of the four or five squares that were placed at odd sections on the map's depicted first, second, and third floors; according to the map's table, those were the indoor play areas for the kids. The fact that the building had thirty department stores in it was mind-boggling—thirty department stores! That was a lot for one building! She took note of the small chains of convenience stores that were also in the building before shaking her head then looking away from the map; her father folded the map then placed it in his jacket then, for a reason that she wasn't fully aware of, or could see, started fiddling around with the pocket that he just put it in. She was giving the building's various decorative foliage a good scrutinizing when her father's hand plopped down on her shoulder; she jumped, then looked at him.
"Happy birthday, Eshal." her father said. To her great shock, he slid two, €200 bills then two, €50 bills into her hand; this, coupled with the €100 that she was given that morning, made her have €600 on her person. Never in her life had she been trusted with this much cash! She looked at the money, then at her father, then at the money again, before leaping at the man who entrusted her with what she was given. Her father gave her a pat on the head then pushed her from him; Lhaklar and Guyunis, she noted, had already moved off. She grabbed one of the maps from the pillar's slot then ran off to do some shopping; her father shook his head then went in the direction that Lhaklar and Guyunis were headed.
Letta Carver, who's father wasn't able to attend the intervention that happened last week, couldn't help but stare in shock at what she was seeing. Up to that very moment, she had expected for nothing of high interest to happen that morning. She had just figured that she'd spend a boring Monday walking around her town's community center; her friends, Petra Klied, Kai Berg, and Anja Bayer, were using the bathroom, getting themselves all dolled-up for the boys that were walking about the center, while she was just standing idly by, waiting for them to come out. To see Lhaklar and Guyunis in the building was a shock while seeing her neighbor's alien husband with them was an even bigger one. She watched as the trio went towards Antiquariat Karel Marel—a small store that sold used books to the public—, then she watched as Lhaklar and the alien man branched off from Guyunis. Lhaklar and the alien man went into the magazine shop that was to the left of Antiquariat Karel Marel while Guyunis went into Antiquariat Karel Marel. Letta, after making a note of which store who went into, made a bee-line for the bathroom that her friends were in; she was so quick in entering the bathroom that she found herself nearly running into them.
"Saw a cute boy that you thought we'd like to see?" Petra Klied, who was wearing red blush, mascara, and light pink eye-shadow, asked.
"No, saw someone better." Letta Carver, who was wearing a dark plum blouse that had an asymmetrical ruched neck and an open back, a pair of blue jeans that had a hole in the left knee, and slip-on, dark purple shoes that had a low heel on them, replied.
"Must of had a change of heart in making herself look irresistible to the boys." Kai Berg, who, Letta thought, was wearing a bit too much makeup, said.
"No thank you—my aunt works as a guard here; she'll let it slip to my papa about me wearing makeup. I'll get in loads of trouble if I'm seen walking around with it on my face." Letta said.
"We're just heading out, so don't let yourself get but so deprived of our company." Anja Bayer, who was wearing a green tunic top that had bat sleeves, faded blue jeans that had knee patches and accessories on them, and dark green heels, said.
"Oh, you won't have to worry any about that." Letta said smugly. She gave a smile, winked one of her eyes, then gave a flirtatious wave with her hand, then told her friends what she just saw. "Thought everyone would want to know that I saw Lhaklar and Guyunis—the alien man that Miss. Irene went and "married" was with them."
Anja Bayer, who lived on the next street over from the Irene's, only needed to hear that to get excited. Unlike her friends, she wasn't able to see a thing of the two people that her planet's protector had allowed to live under her roof. Her grandfader, Josef Arneth, had heard some of what was happening on Zweig Straße but he hadn't let any of what he was told get out to her. Her grammum, René Blum, was told small things about what her grandfader had found out but she was left completely in the dark; if not for Petra and Kirstin, she'd not know a thing about the two aliens that were in their subdivision, or living under the Irene roof. Petra had let it spill one day when they were eating lunch at school, while Kirstin confirmed what she said a little later on, when they were leaving church. To hear that one of the two aliens were in the community center was just too tantalizing to not check into; she dropped her makeup into her bag, then fluffed her strawberry-blonde hair a little, then turned to leave the bathroom. Her friends followed behind her like the good soldiers that they were.
While none of them were really of the soft or quiet-spoken sort, Kai Berg, who was the oldest of them at nineteen, and she, who was eighteen and four months, were the more wide-spoken ones in their group. For the most part, Kai was the one responsible for everyone at their school knowing about the alien man and his daughter living in their town; even though Kai was the oldest, and most wide-spoken, in their group, she was the leader of them—or, so she thought. Through a little chat with her cousin in the next town over, she had managed to let it "slip" about the two extra aliens that were living in Elchesheim-Illingen and, thanks to that cousin of hers, who had an older bruder who worked as a journalist, most, if not all, of the people who lived in Baden Württemberg knew about the two aliens being in her town.
If anyone had asked her if she thought that all the gossip spilling on the alien man and his daughter being in Elchesheim-Illingen was wrongly done, she would of come back saying that nothing bad would come from it. She was being her age, she'd tell any of them nay-sayers and questioners. She was enjoying her final years of being a teenager; she was trying to make due with what she had left of her teenage life before adulthood came calling. Why act like an adult when she was still a teenager, she'd say. If anything happened, it wouldn't be bad or worth any real time on the news. Why, her cousin's bruder's article was the only article written on the alien man and his daughter; a small buzz had come from it but nothing really happened because of it. The week of extra activity in her town was the only thing that came from it; no big-time news vans, or journalists from world renown newspapers, had shown up and there was no increase in polizei patrols. Everything, for the most part, had remained the same in Elchesheim-Illingen.
"How long's it been since you saw them?" Anja asked Letta.
"Five minutes," Letta replied.
"Think they left the shops you saw them go in?" Kai Berg asked.
"I hope they haven't gone to some other place." Anja said as she quickened her pace to the two stores that her friend saw Lhaklar, Guyunis, and the alien man go into.
It was a wee bit too late when Letta remembered what her father told her a few weeks ago in regards to what was going on in the Irene house and about the alien man and his daughter. Her papa had said for her to steer clear of the house and to not get involved, or go a step near the alien man... she found herself as breaking that month-old given instruction after finding herself standing two feet from the alien man, who just exited the magazine shop that he and Lhaklar went into. Her group had systematically split in two after reaching the two shops; Petra and Kai went into the used bookstore while she and Anja found themselves as stopping before entering the magazine shop. Letta put a little bit of distance between herself, Lhaklar, and the alien man while Anja went up to the two that just left the store. Anja was just starting to get in a good look of the man when a sudden commotion was heard—Guyunis, who had a medium-sized bag in one of his hands, was exiting Antiquariat Karel Marel; Kai and Petra were following at his heels.
"What, decided to show your mug today?" Petra was asking.
"Think he wanted to show off them locks of his." Kai was saying.
"Must of decided to show how much muscle he's dropped as well." Petra said.
He ignored the girlies as best he could; he did nothing to gain their attention, or deserve their rushing at him. Though only meaning to find and then buy four books that catered to his reading interests, he found a further four more that he wasn't able to walk away from. H.P. Lovecraft was one of his favorite authors, so he was quick in grabbing three books—The Whisperer in Darkness, At the Mountains of Madness, and The Shadow Over Innsmouth—by him. The Donna Andrews book, Lord of the Wings, had looked like a rather interesting book so he grabbed it too. The Second Time Around by Mary Higgins Clark; The Clockwork Scarab by Colleen Gleason; Secrets in the Ice by Rick Gangraw; and The Titan's Curse by Rick Riordan were the other books that he purchased—he was one who liked reading action and adventure, suspense, and horror novels; with the exception of the H.P. Lovecraft novels, his purchases had plots that revolved around the mystery and suspense genre. While all of what he purchased were used, and had a little wear and tear to them, they were still in decent enough shape to read. He made sure to check them over before going to the check-out counter; none of his purchases would fall apart after he opened and then started to read them.
Up to his final adoption, he wasn't able to purchase books or, for that matter, have anything to call his own. The attic in his former adopted parents' house had served as his living space; an old mattress, that was all spring and little to no foam, had served as his bed. No accessories—pillows, blankets, sheets, etc—were given to him to sleep with. The mattress was the only thing that he was given to sleep/rest on during the night hours. With the exception of the items that were thrown at him, or that he found in the Meyers' trash, he hadn't owned anything. Most of the clothes that were in his dresser were thrown at him—as always, the Meyer's would throw him the rags that their kids finally wore out or didn't want anymore—, and most of the items that he managed to stuff in his jean bag on that final night that he spent in the Meyer attic had come from the Meyers' trash.
His old, but still usable, portable CD player—a device that the humans used in the late-1990's to early 2000's—was still in his possession. Justin Meyer, one of Lenora and Mathis Meyer Jr.'s sons, had tossed it after it stopped working. After seeing it in the trash one day, he made the decision to grab then do the hide-thing with it. He worked on it during his "containment" hours; it was working fine now. The pair of wireless headphones that he also had—the ones that one of Mathis and Lenora's daughters had thrown away in an attempt to get the newer model headphones that her friends were getting/using—had a little wear to them, but they were still useful. And the small, AM/PM radio that had a temperature reader on its side and a cassette player built into it—the one that Mathis Meyer Jr. threw at him one day after coming home from work—was still in good working order. While his old pocketknife—the one that Old Man Meyer threw out one day... the one that's bolsters were wobbly, and that's blade was all scratched up and half-dull, and that was lacking one of its wooden sides—was also still in his possession; he had formerly retired it after getting the two pocketknives that Hazaar went out of his way to get for him as Christmas presents. Everything else that he owned was new; the Meyer's would have a cow at how good he had it now!
Lhaklar's fader following him and his bruder around was most of the reason behind his wanting to go to a different store. Despite the confusing curiosity that he felt towards the man, he still didn't trust or like him, and he still wanted him nowhere near him. So what if an intervention happened... so what if things seemed "cool" at home now... so what if no fights or further acts of annoyance or "aggression" were happening between his bruders and the man who was their fader; he, honestly, saw no change in him. All he saw was a ticking time-bomb; the man was waiting for him and his family to drop their guards before returning to how he was before the "intervention" happened. If not for the man's "donation" towards the bills that his mutter was having problems in paying that month, and the €100 that he was given that morning, he would of jumped then snarled at him after he placed his hand on his shoulder. Shit, if his shock wasn't that great, he would of gnawed his arm off after he tampered with his hair.
His attitude towards the girlie was a little different now. Not only was he tolerant towards her being around him but he was now talking to her. She seemed okay... but he still didn't trust her, and he was still keeping his eye on her—and especially so when she was around Sabine! The girlie seemed to like his cat, which was causing him a bit of stress—what if she had a plan in motion that revolved around his cat? What if her intention in getting on his good side was a way to get him to drop his guard so she could play Cat Snatch?
His other reason in going into the bookstore was pretty basic: with €100 on his person, he could buy more than two books this month and still have enough left for the rest of what he wanted to get—his magazines, his smokes, maybe more than two models... there was just a lot that he could get with the money that he was thrown that morning. He was planning on using every cent of what he was given by that man.
"Hey ugly!" the girlie who had short, black hair and dark eyes in an Oriental face suddenly pushed him. The Oriental girlie's companion wasted not a second in slapping him on the rear, or grabbing the bag from his hand.
"For me? How sweet!" the brown-haired girlie opened the bag then started sifting through its contents. He was turning to collect his bag when his bruder appeared at his side.
"This is one of the reasons why I like the older generation," Lhaklar said. "Y'don't see this type of immaturity with an adult woman."
"Must be the reason behind you not having anyone on your arm." the Oriental girlie said.
"What kind of nerd likes these old author has-beens?" Petra Klied shot. The bag that she was holding was suddenly thrown to the floor; she was in the process of pulling her leg back to kick it when it floated up then coasted over to the left. Lhaklar grabbed it after it reached him; he then gave it back to its owner.
"Thanks," Guyunis said.
"No problem," Lhaklar said as he turned to go to some other part of the community center. "Let's get out of here."
Kai Berg, who lived eight houses up from the one that her planet's heroine and her five sons, and the alien man and his daughter, lived in, lunged after Lhaklar's back was turned to her. The bag that he had, which had nothing more than his June editions in it, was ripped from his hand then thrown to Petra. Petra smiled after he turned to look at her; she then tossed the bag over to Letta Carver, who was quick in tossing it to Anja Bayer. Lhaklar did nothing but watch as his bag flew from one set of hands to the other; he neither tried to stop it from being passed around or spoke about what was going on. He figured that they'd get tired of their game after noticing that he wasn't reacting to their actions. With the exception of getting his monthly porn magazine, all of his June editions were purchased; with his father being in his near-immediate vicinity, and with even he wondering if he had really changed, or was pulling a front in trying to get everyone to think that he was a changed man when he really wasn't, he had decided to postpone his purchase of that month's High Society—if he wanted to see that month's Playboy edition, he could always ask Hazaar about borrowing the one that he was sure he would be getting here in the next few days and, if he wanted to see that month's edition of Hustler, he could always ask Bile about borrowing his, which he had probably already purchased. The same went with if he wanted to see that month's Penthouse edition, which Guyunis would probably be purchasing here soon. While he and his brothers got different magazines each month, they pretty much read and were interested in the same stuff.
His father, for the most part, had just milled around. He knew right from the start that the man was watching him; he felt his eye on him the entire time he was looking at the magazines that were on the store's shelves. He had expected for the man to follow Eshal around, and to see what she was doing and keep an eye on her, just in case something happened that she couldn't handle. Instead of following his sister, he followed him and Guyunis.
The bag of magazines exchanged hands all of three times before finally coming to a stop. Anja Bayer, a teenager who lived on Obstgarten Fährt, had it now. The girl, who looked very much like a painted up whore, was waving it in a mocking sort of way. All he did in response was smile; this seemed to infuriate her, because she suddenly started flinging it all over the place. Though a little perturbed by this new development, he remained where he was and continued to not be responsive to her actions. Miss. Bayer's gray eyes got quite cloudy after he continued to not react to her immaturity; if not for the arm that suddenly swooped by her, he would of grown fearful over the sure demise of the magazines that she possessed. His father's arm was quick; neither he nor Anja knew how to respond after the bag was taken from her.
"Think I'll take this." his father said after he took the bag. With the exception of Letta Carver, who jumped back a bunch of steps, the girls all turned to look at him. Anja's mouth, which was wearing a coating of dark purple lipstick, was wide open. His father was in the process of walking the bag back to him when Anja, suddenly, shockingly, and without notice, screamed at him.
"How dare you! You have no right—"
"Think I have plenty." his father replied, calmly. "The contents of this bag belong to my son; you'd be held liable for destruction of property that isn't yours if anything in this was damaged."
"You can't do what you just did! What you just did was assault; I could call the polizei then report you for assault of a minor for what you just did!" Anja said heatedly.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." his father said. He gave him the bag then turned to face Anja. "That's called Falsifying a report, which could get you in a lot of trouble."
"No it's not! You hit me when you grabbed—"
"I did no such thing, Miss. Bayer." his father said. Anja's eyes went wide.
"H-how do you know my name?" Anja asked uneasily.
"The contents in your purse spilled after you started tossing my son's bag around." his father explained. "A mind-reader such as I was able to pick-up on the name, along with your age and address, easily, thanks to that."
"He's bluffing," Petra said. Even she sounded uneasy.
"Am I now? Should I blurt information on all four of you or should I, my boys, and you fine girls part ways peacefully?" his father asked.
"You know nothing of me! You're just an old, washed up alien who shouldn't be on this side of the shields!" Anja screamed.
"An old, washed up alien who just so happens to live on the next street over from you." his father said. "I do believe I saw an Obstgarten Fährt on your I.D., and I also believe that I saw a 5-3-5 as the starting numbers of your address."
Anja's gray eyes went wide for only a second; when they went back to their original size, she smiled a sweet, innocent smile then excused herself. Petra Klied, Kai Berg, and Letta Carver did the same. The four girls started off slowly, then ran off as if having seen a ghost. He and Guyunis couldn't contain their amusement over seeing the four of them run off like that. They laughed for a while before resuming their outing.