By The Power Pointer
Chapter 1
A Night at the Junkyard
It was late one night
when John Bal John heard a loud noise out of his bedroom window. “Great,” he said, “Hey Bow Les, we’ve got another cat. It’s your turn tonight.”
Bow Les leaned foreword in his bed feeling around for his glasses. His first two steps off his bead felt like walking on a large boat. “Why tonight,” he muttered as he walked out the door to the hallway. He stopped at the refrigerator. The fridge was divided top to bottom between his and his brothers food. Bow Les peeked over the fridge door as he grabbed one of John’s Pepsi’s. Taking a sip he opened to door to the junkyard.
John and Bow Les were half owners of the junkyard in Labrit, France. Their uncle Brice Barton was the proud owner of all the junkyards in South Western France. He had told John and Bow Les that they could keep it if they worked as if they owned it for five years. They had been living there for a month and hated it.
“Five years,” Bow Les said looking over a quarter mile of trash. He reached behind the open door pulling out an old green broom. “Here kitty,” he said under his breath. Bow Les started out the door looking left to right. “Which one,” he said looking at the rows. The junkyard was made of thirteen long rows of piled trash that ran the length of the quarter mile. “Aisle G, the lucky G,” he said.
The brothers knew of three places that cats usually would look for food. The end of aisle G came from the township of Garein. The trash there wasn’t any different from any of the other towns, but for some reason the cats loved it.
Having only walked ten feet down the aisle Bow Les stopped by an old rusty bike. It was very exhausting chasing around cats especially at this late hour. He dropped the can of Pepsi and kicked it to the side. It was a junkyard. He stooped down and picked up the bike and started down towards the cat’s possible kitchen.
Why did he have to do this? When his uncle first approached him and his brother with the junkyard he thought it was a good way to stay out of school. He never liked the idea of learning a profession. But after chasing cats every other night school didn’t sound like a bad idea. Just the thought of staying there for five years was bad enough. He didn’t want get stuck with it forever.
There was a noise up ahead. Bow Les stopped the bike just in time to watch a tin can roll in front of him. He jumped off the bike holding the broom like a sword and began ascending the pile of trash. He reached the summit and scanned the yard. He saw four black cats running, following a brown leader.
“John,” he yelled, “I need back up!”
Bow Les heard an echoing moan from the house. “What,” John replied in the distance.“They are headed for Brocas town in aisle M,” he yelled. Bow Les ran across the ridge of the pile another three yards jumping fast at a heap of banana peels. They had set up a slimy slide down the hill for just an occasion for a quick descent, though this had never been attempted before. It worked almost too well. Bow Les found himself thrown with great momentum across the bottom of the aisle at the adjacent trash wall of aisle H.
John came running out the door with two shotguns. He was running along the head of the aisles looking for Bow Les. After a few moments with no success he yelled, “Bow Les, where are you?”
He walked past aisle H just in time to see his brother fall down from the wall of trash. John ran down the aisle toward his brother. “What happened to you,” he asked.
Bow Les pointed, shaking, at the slide of slime they had created. John then looked behind him to see a perfect imprint of his brother in bean dip and motor oil.
“Get up,” he said pulling Bow Les to his feet. He handed him a shotgun and started to ascend the trash hill. Wobbling back and forth Bow Les fell back to the ground.
John raised up his shotgun scanning the horizon of trash muttering to himself, “Mautoire, Hourats, Branenx, and Brocas!” He fired watching an explosion of trash. Just right of the explosion three cats ran across the ridge.
“I’ll stop them,” Bow Les yelled riding on his bike to head them off.
John began descending and ascending adjacent trash hills to get a closer shot. He stopped at the top of aisle K. He could see Bow Les running to the top of aisle M. The cats turned around running the other way on the ridge.
Bow Les stopped and raised his shotgun. “I’ve got you,” he said taking aim. The cats were heading towards a hump in the hill. “Oh no you don’t,” John yelled raising his gun. The cats jumped for safety behind the hump. The brothers both fired. A huge explosion erupted red throwing both brothers down their respective hills of trash.
Bow Les found himself lying upside down at the bottom of the hill. Something was dripping on his face from above. It was an old toilet cracked in two. “Oh, yuck,” he yelled rolling out of the way of the drip.
“What is that,” he heard John yell.
“What is what,” Bow Les responded.
“That red glow from where we shot at,” John yelled back.
“I’m on my way,” Bow Les yelled. He ran limping up the hill stopping to kick the toilet. It broke and one half of it crashed down to the bottom. As he approached the summit he could see a red glow in the dusty air.
“What is that? Looks like some sort of box from here,” John yelled.
“I’m coming,” Bow Les mumbled. He started to jog across the ridge. The closer he got the less sure of himself he became. What was that thing? What could make such a red glow? He slowed his jog clutching his shotgun tight. The explosion had caused a fifteen-foot crater in the pile. The glow was coming from the middle of it. Set in the bottom of the crater was an old refrigerator.
“It’s a fridge,” Bow Les yelled. He pulled the gun back up in case a cat came out of it. The fridge door was open away from him. He could see the old stained inside of the fridge. But the glow was coming from the other side of the door. He was four feet from the fridge. He took a couple other steps and reached out to the door still holding the gun. He pushed the door shut. He looked over at John one ridge over, “You’ve got to see this.”
It took John a few minutes to make his way over and up the hill. Just before reaching the gaping hole of a crater a cat ran past him. “Aaah! Stupid cat,” He yelled throwing the nearest object at it, which happened to be his gun.
“Nice throw,” Bow Les said.
“Yea, thanks,” John said.
The two of them sat next to the old fridge looking at a red glowing ruby that was set in the handle of the door. “What should we do with it,” Bow Les asked.
John reached to touch it and said, “Do you think it comes out?”“Do we dare,” Bow Les asked.
Just as John’s hand touched the ruby, it fell out into his hand. “That’s a strange feeling,” he said. He handed the ruby to his brother.
“Oh my gosh,” Bow Les said in amazement. Just holding the ruby filled him with a great feeling a peace and power, though he never thought of himself as being anything that special.
John took the ruby from Bow Les. “We need to hide this,” He said, “put it somewhere safe.”
“What if someone comes looking for it?” Bow Les asked.
“I don’t know, make a fake one,” He said.
Bow Les looked to his left and picked up what looked like the bottom of a broken glass bottle. “I hope this works,” He said looking at it. He then held it hear the hole in the handle. “I don’t know why it would work,” He said. Just as the glass touched the handle it transformed, looking as though it was melting. Bow Les let go pulling back his hand. The glass now looked like a non-glowing replica of the true ruby.
“Wow,” John said, “How did you know that would work?”
when John Bal John heard a loud noise out of his bedroom window. “Great,” he said, “Hey Bow Les, we’ve got another cat. It’s your turn tonight.”
Bow Les leaned foreword in his bed feeling around for his glasses. His first two steps off his bead felt like walking on a large boat. “Why tonight,” he muttered as he walked out the door to the hallway. He stopped at the refrigerator. The fridge was divided top to bottom between his and his brothers food. Bow Les peeked over the fridge door as he grabbed one of John’s Pepsi’s. Taking a sip he opened to door to the junkyard.
John and Bow Les were half owners of the junkyard in Labrit, France. Their uncle Brice Barton was the proud owner of all the junkyards in South Western France. He had told John and Bow Les that they could keep it if they worked as if they owned it for five years. They had been living there for a month and hated it.
“Five years,” Bow Les said looking over a quarter mile of trash. He reached behind the open door pulling out an old green broom. “Here kitty,” he said under his breath. Bow Les started out the door looking left to right. “Which one,” he said looking at the rows. The junkyard was made of thirteen long rows of piled trash that ran the length of the quarter mile. “Aisle G, the lucky G,” he said.
The brothers knew of three places that cats usually would look for food. The end of aisle G came from the township of Garein. The trash there wasn’t any different from any of the other towns, but for some reason the cats loved it.
Having only walked ten feet down the aisle Bow Les stopped by an old rusty bike. It was very exhausting chasing around cats especially at this late hour. He dropped the can of Pepsi and kicked it to the side. It was a junkyard. He stooped down and picked up the bike and started down towards the cat’s possible kitchen.
Why did he have to do this? When his uncle first approached him and his brother with the junkyard he thought it was a good way to stay out of school. He never liked the idea of learning a profession. But after chasing cats every other night school didn’t sound like a bad idea. Just the thought of staying there for five years was bad enough. He didn’t want get stuck with it forever.
There was a noise up ahead. Bow Les stopped the bike just in time to watch a tin can roll in front of him. He jumped off the bike holding the broom like a sword and began ascending the pile of trash. He reached the summit and scanned the yard. He saw four black cats running, following a brown leader.
“John,” he yelled, “I need back up!”
Bow Les heard an echoing moan from the house. “What,” John replied in the distance.“They are headed for Brocas town in aisle M,” he yelled. Bow Les ran across the ridge of the pile another three yards jumping fast at a heap of banana peels. They had set up a slimy slide down the hill for just an occasion for a quick descent, though this had never been attempted before. It worked almost too well. Bow Les found himself thrown with great momentum across the bottom of the aisle at the adjacent trash wall of aisle H.
John came running out the door with two shotguns. He was running along the head of the aisles looking for Bow Les. After a few moments with no success he yelled, “Bow Les, where are you?”
He walked past aisle H just in time to see his brother fall down from the wall of trash. John ran down the aisle toward his brother. “What happened to you,” he asked.
Bow Les pointed, shaking, at the slide of slime they had created. John then looked behind him to see a perfect imprint of his brother in bean dip and motor oil.
“Get up,” he said pulling Bow Les to his feet. He handed him a shotgun and started to ascend the trash hill. Wobbling back and forth Bow Les fell back to the ground.
John raised up his shotgun scanning the horizon of trash muttering to himself, “Mautoire, Hourats, Branenx, and Brocas!” He fired watching an explosion of trash. Just right of the explosion three cats ran across the ridge.
“I’ll stop them,” Bow Les yelled riding on his bike to head them off.
John began descending and ascending adjacent trash hills to get a closer shot. He stopped at the top of aisle K. He could see Bow Les running to the top of aisle M. The cats turned around running the other way on the ridge.
Bow Les stopped and raised his shotgun. “I’ve got you,” he said taking aim. The cats were heading towards a hump in the hill. “Oh no you don’t,” John yelled raising his gun. The cats jumped for safety behind the hump. The brothers both fired. A huge explosion erupted red throwing both brothers down their respective hills of trash.
Bow Les found himself lying upside down at the bottom of the hill. Something was dripping on his face from above. It was an old toilet cracked in two. “Oh, yuck,” he yelled rolling out of the way of the drip.
“What is that,” he heard John yell.
“What is what,” Bow Les responded.
“That red glow from where we shot at,” John yelled back.
“I’m on my way,” Bow Les yelled. He ran limping up the hill stopping to kick the toilet. It broke and one half of it crashed down to the bottom. As he approached the summit he could see a red glow in the dusty air.
“What is that? Looks like some sort of box from here,” John yelled.
“I’m coming,” Bow Les mumbled. He started to jog across the ridge. The closer he got the less sure of himself he became. What was that thing? What could make such a red glow? He slowed his jog clutching his shotgun tight. The explosion had caused a fifteen-foot crater in the pile. The glow was coming from the middle of it. Set in the bottom of the crater was an old refrigerator.
“It’s a fridge,” Bow Les yelled. He pulled the gun back up in case a cat came out of it. The fridge door was open away from him. He could see the old stained inside of the fridge. But the glow was coming from the other side of the door. He was four feet from the fridge. He took a couple other steps and reached out to the door still holding the gun. He pushed the door shut. He looked over at John one ridge over, “You’ve got to see this.”
It took John a few minutes to make his way over and up the hill. Just before reaching the gaping hole of a crater a cat ran past him. “Aaah! Stupid cat,” He yelled throwing the nearest object at it, which happened to be his gun.
“Nice throw,” Bow Les said.
“Yea, thanks,” John said.
The two of them sat next to the old fridge looking at a red glowing ruby that was set in the handle of the door. “What should we do with it,” Bow Les asked.
John reached to touch it and said, “Do you think it comes out?”“Do we dare,” Bow Les asked.
Just as John’s hand touched the ruby, it fell out into his hand. “That’s a strange feeling,” he said. He handed the ruby to his brother.
“Oh my gosh,” Bow Les said in amazement. Just holding the ruby filled him with a great feeling a peace and power, though he never thought of himself as being anything that special.
John took the ruby from Bow Les. “We need to hide this,” He said, “put it somewhere safe.”
“What if someone comes looking for it?” Bow Les asked.
“I don’t know, make a fake one,” He said.
Bow Les looked to his left and picked up what looked like the bottom of a broken glass bottle. “I hope this works,” He said looking at it. He then held it hear the hole in the handle. “I don’t know why it would work,” He said. Just as the glass touched the handle it transformed, looking as though it was melting. Bow Les let go pulling back his hand. The glass now looked like a non-glowing replica of the true ruby.
“Wow,” John said, “How did you know that would work?”
Bow Les touched the fake ruby and ran his finger down the handle. “I didn’t,” He said as he read an etching in the handle:
“Ruby of the Kings”
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