Xander and the Pen E-Book

David Lawrence

• Herausgeber: Exisle Publishing
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: The Pen Series
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 157

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Xander, a boy who loves to draw superheroes, buys a pen from a mysterious market stall. He soon learns that the pen has a magical power. At first, the pen improves life for Xander's family and friends, but there are unintended consequences. As events spiral out of control, Xander has a new set of problems to solve, and a big decision to make.

Leseprobe

The sound of the creaky classroom door being opened made Xander spin around. It took nearly a second for his gigantic mop of curly brown hair to catch up with his tiny head.

Standing in the doorway was Timmy Fontaine, the second-smallest kid in Xander’s year. Tears streamed down his face and rivulets of bright red blood trickled from his nose. Several buttons were missing from his tattered white shirt, which was covered in twigs and random patches of dirt.

Xander looked back to the front of the class, where Mr Steele was standing next to the whiteboard. The bald-headed teacher with a heavily waxed moustache narrowed his eyes and folded his arms.

‘What happened to you, Fontaine?’ he said.

‘Um, I kind of tripped, sir,’ said Timmy.

‘Well, I can’t have you bleeding all over one of my desks!’

Xander rolled his eyes and Mr Steele glared at him.

‘Got something to say, Beeston?’ he snapped.

‘No sir,’ replied Xander. He meekly bowed his head and stared at his desk.

‘I didn’t think so,’ sneered the teacher. ‘Fontaine, go to sick bay immediately, and get yourself cleaned up.’

As soon as Timmy was gone, Mr Steele turned to scribble more unsolvable maths problems onto the whiteboard. Well, unsolvable to Xander. He looked across at his mate Tee-Jay, who was writing down the answers as quickly as the questions appeared.

Xander widened his eyes in mock surprise, causing the raven-haired girl seated next to him to smile.

‘Don’t make me laugh!’ whispered Cat.

Xander put his hand on his heart and mouthed, ‘Who me?’

Cat snorted out loud, and Mr Steele whirled around like an angry scorpion.

‘Something amusing you, Miss Cruz?’

‘No sir … something got caught in my throat.’

‘Well if anything else gets caught in your throat, everyone will be staying back after school! Got it?’

‘Yes sir,’ said Cat.

After Mr Steele turned back to the whiteboard, Xander looked at Cat and mouthed, ‘I am so disappointed in you!’ His friend barely managed to hold back a secondary snort. Xander grinned and pulled out a blank piece of paper. He then reached into his mass of hair to retrieve a pencil from behind his ear and set to work.

Just before the end of the school day the classroom door opened again, letting in a welcome blast of cool, fresh sea air. In limped Timmy Fontaine holding an icepack. His eyes were puffy and he was wearing a Dukescliff Primary and Middle School windcheater that was at least four sizes too big.

Xander guessed the top had been ‘borrowed’ from the lost and found bin located next to the sick bay.

As Timmy hobbled towards his desk, Mr Steele acknowledged his return with a disinterested grunt. Less than a minute later, the sound of the bell sent students scurrying for the exit, like rats escaping from a sinking ship.

‘Don’t forget your homework!’ yelled Mr Steele without even looking up from his table.

Xander noticed that Timmy had remained seated, so he walked over.

‘Was it the Bruise Brothers?’ he asked Timmy.

Timmy nodded nervously.

Xander nodded back and handed over the sketch he had completed instead of solving Mr Steele’s equations. A smile instantly appeared on Timmy’s face.

‘That is awesome!’

The cartoon drawing was of a musclebound Timmy wearing a fluttering superhero cape. He was standing triumphantly on top of Tony and Jeff Clagg, or as they liked to call themselves, ‘The Bruise Brothers’. But instead of giving the Clagg boys normal bodies, Xander had made the bullies into pieces of toast, with little arms, legs and heads sticking out. Down the bottom was the caption: ‘The Bruise Brothers are

… toast!’

‘Thanks, “Beast”!’ said Timmy. ‘You’re a legend.’

Xander’s face turned the colour of a hydroponic tomato.

‘Better go — Tee-Jay and Cat are waiting for me,’ Xander said before grabbing his bag and rushing out the door.

Xander quickly spotted his friends chatting underneath a giant Monterey cypress tree. In the background was Cygnet Bay and, as he jogged over, a wedge of black swans launched majestically off the water.

‘You nearly got me into so much trouble!’ said Cat.

‘What? I did not say one word to make you laugh.’

‘You don’t have to … you have a very funny face.’

‘Funny in a cool way, right?’

‘Let’s just leave it at “funny”,’ said Cat.

Tee-Jay burst out laughing and Xander turned to him and sighed.

‘I expected more from you, mate,’ he said. ‘And because you just laughed at me, I’m not going to help you with your maths homework!’

‘Not that, Beast! Anything but that!’ pleaded Tee-Jay.

The three friends started walking towards the gate, when a voice called out from the school’s outdoor basketball court.

‘You want to shoot some hoops?’

A girl with short spikey hair bounced the basketball a few times before throwing the ball over her head to make a spectacular shot.

‘All net, Phoebe!’ screamed Cat, throwing down her bag and racing over to the court. ‘I’m in!’

‘Me too!’ said Tee-Jay.

‘How about you Xander?’ asked Phoebe.

‘Sorry, sis, got a weightlifting session at four — need to keep these guns loaded!’

Xander started posing like a bodybuilder then added, ‘They don’t call me “The Beast” for nothing.’

‘I’m pretty sure they do!’ countered Tee-Jay.

‘Yeah — you’re the least beastly person I know,’ said Cat.

Ignoring his friends’ comments, Xander put on a dramatic voice, just like the ones used in American movie trailers.

‘Xander Beeston — by day, a mild mannered, 40-kilogram weakling, but whenever there’s a full moon, he becomes … The Beast!’

Cat had to sit down she was laughing so hard.

‘I’d like to see that!’ yelled Tee-Jay.

‘Oh, you’ll see it my friend — just wait till the next full moon! Ar-woooooo!’

‘OMG, Xander! You sound like a chihuahua!’ laughed Phoebe, spinning her wheelchair around to face him.

He watched his little sister sink a long range three-point shot and smiled proudly.

‘See you two tomorrow, and see you at home, Phoebs.’

Xander pulled his bag over his shoulders like a backpack, and started whistling as he headed out the rusty old gate.

Straight away, Xander knew he was in danger. He didn’t need a superhero’s special sixth sense to alert him — Tony Clagg’s menacing voice was a dead giveaway.

‘There he is. Let’s get him!’

Xander froze.

Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he felt like a hyperactive rubber ball was trying to escape from inside his chest.

‘You’re so dead!’ yelled Jeff Clagg.

If Xander had superpowers he would have faced his foes and declared, ‘There’s no such thing as “so” dead, Jeff. You’re either alive, or you’re dead … as you’re about to find out!’ But Xander didn’t have superpowers, so he ran away instead. He set off along Hinchinbrook Road, before turning down Grange Avenue where the houses were known for their colourful, flower-filled gardens and neatly trimmed box hedges.

But there was no time to appreciate the eye-catching orange and red hibiscus or the bright pink and purple fuchsias, because the Bruise Brothers were only ten seconds behind him, and closing. Xander wished he had his sister’s speed. Well … her speed before the accident. He also wished he had her courage.

A thought suddenly popped into his head, and he turned left into the zigzagging St Hubert’s Street. Just after the street jagged left, Xander ducked down a tiny side road named Yal Yal Lane, and kept sprinting. Seconds later he heard the frustrated shouts of the Bruise Brothers.

‘Where is he?’

‘The little skunk must have slipped down Yal Yal!’

Xander’s clever tactic gained him twenty seconds, but he doubted it would be enough.

Once out of Yal Yal Lane, he ran directly towards the ocean. He could see the large expanse of blue water in the distance, but it appeared smaller than usual. And it seemed to be shrinking. He blinked a few times before realizing that an eerie, low-level mist was rolling towards shore. It looked like it was swallowing the sea.

Behind him the pounding sound of the Bruise Brothers’ feet grew louder, and that’s when he saw the giant banner.

DUKESCLIFF MARKET OPEN TODAY!

In the distance he could see people milling around the makeshift stalls set up in Wakefield Park. As he propelled himself forward, the welcoming aroma of barbecued onions and sausages teased his nose.

Xander’s pursuers were closing on him as he sped through the market’s entrance and began weaving between the laidback locals.

‘Give up, Beast!’ yelled Jeff.

‘Yeah, you’re only making things worse!’ roared Tony.

Suddenly the temperature plunged and Xander couldn’t see anything. It was as if someone had turned off the sun. The thick mist had made it to shore, instantly enveloping the entire marketplace.

Xander dropped to his knees. Just before losing visibility, he had spotted a line of portable toilets to his left, and he began crawling in that direction so he could hide around the back of them.

But the sound of the Bruise Brothers’ voices made him stop in his tracks.

‘Where’d he go?’ asked Jeff.

‘Dunno — he was right here,’ replied Tony.

‘Let’s hold hands so we don’t get split up,’ suggested Jeff.

‘I’m not holding your hand!’

‘I was joking!’

‘Yeah right! Let’s check from here up to the end of the row. Even though we can’t see him, he can’t be far away.’

Xander held his breath as Tony’s angry face loomed through the fog — his head appeared to be floating without a body. It then vanished into the mist just as quickly as it had appeared.

Xander let out a deep sigh and resumed crawling. Unfortunately, he slightly misjudged the distance and ended up locating the toilets with his head. ‘Ouch!’ he said. Ignoring the pain, he felt his way around the back and lay down on his stomach. As he caught his breath, he could hear younger kids screaming and adults cursing as they bumped into each other.

Over the loudspeakers a woman with a calming voice announced, ‘No need to panic, everyone. For safety reasons please stay exactly where you are — the mist should clear in about fifteen minutes.’

Xander knew he had to escape before the cover of the fog disappeared. As he stood up, his left hand pressed against something on the ground. It was money — notes and coins. The mist was too thick for Xander to see how much cash was there, but he gratefully stuffed it into his pocket.

He set off waving his hands in front of him so he could detect any obstacles before colliding with them. Lots of people had turned on the torches on their phones, so he carefully avoided any luminous circles of light that permeated the grey mass surrounding him.

The fog’s density began to lighten, and this helped him gain his bearings. The exit was now fairly close, but just as he was about to slip away a golden flash of light caught his attention. Xander glanced towards the source of the light but then fought off his curiosity and crept towards the Wakefield Park gates. He could now make out the outlines of the market stalls, so he knew he had to keep moving.

Another even bigger golden flash suddenly erupted, and it seemed to come from the stall at the end of the row. Xander was intrigued. Despite the risk, he decided to sneak over and find out what was going on.

After squinting at the sign above the stall, he mouthed, ‘Second-hand Treasures’.

He could vaguely make out an unusual assortment of objects on the unsteady trestle table: antique lamps, a variety of colourful crystals and … a pen.

Even in the poor light he could tell it was a very old pen. It was scratched and battered but had striking gold writing on the side. Xander didn’t know why, but he felt drawn to it. His hand trembled as he reached out to pick it up and …

Zap!

A warm surge of power flowed from the pen into Xander’s fingers, then up his arm before spreading throughout his entire body. In an instant he felt safe, like he was wearing a protective layer of armour.

‘Nothing can harm me,’ he whispered. He smiled as he stared at the pen and tried to make sense of the strange writing on its side.

‘Manibus futuri.’

‘That’s Latin,’ said a deep voice from the other side of the table. Xander’s head jerked up to see an old man wearing a purple robe covered in yellow moons and stars, with a matching circular hat. The skin on his face looked like wellworn leather, and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

‘S-s-sorry?’ replied Xander.

‘The writing on the pen — it’s Latin,’ said the man.

‘Latin?’

‘An ancient language.’

Xander re-examined the words.

‘Man-i-bus fu-tur-i,’ he said.

‘It means, “The future is in your hands”,’ explained the elderly man. ‘If you’re interested in buying it, it’s …’

He put his hand on his chin and looked Xander up and down, before giving a small nod. ‘… Fifteen dollars and forty cents.’

Xander gently replaced the pen on the table. ‘Um, no thanks,’ he said. ‘I don’t have any money.’

‘That’s a pity,’ said the man.

Xander dejectedly shoved his hand into his pocket, and was instantly reminded of his discovery behind the portable toilets.

‘Hang on! I do have money!’ he said, as he started pulling the cash from his pocket and counting it on the trestle table.

‘There’s ten dollars, and, um, hang on, there’s another five … and twenty cents, and another ten … and here’s five more — how much is that?’

‘That’s fifteen dollars and thirty-five cents,’ said the man. ‘You’re five cents short.’

Xander’s face dropped.

‘Are you sure there’s no more money in your pocket?’ asked the man.

Xander delved back into his pocket and fished around again.

‘No … wait a sec!’ With a beaming smile, Xander pulled out another five-cent piece.

‘Fifteen dollars forty exactly!’ he said.

‘Excellent. Now it’s an ink pen, so you’ll need some ink …’

At this, Xander folded his arms and glared at the purplerobed salesman.

‘Don’t worry,’ the man reassured Xander, ‘the ink is included in the price.’

Xander let out a small sigh, as the man handed him an ornate bottle filled with a dark liquid.

‘Thanks!’ he said. He quickly unzipped his school bag and put the pen and bottle of ink inside.

‘No, thank you,’ said the mysterious man.

Xander was so excited, he failed to notice the mist had almost completely disappeared. On reaching the exit, he turned to have another look at the ‘Second-hand Treasures’ stall.

But it wasn’t where he thought it should be, and he started scanning the marketplace to find it.

Suddenly Xander felt his arms being grabbed.

‘Gotcha!’ announced Tony Clagg.

‘Yeah — it’s payback time!’ said his younger brother.

‘But I didn’t do anything!’ pleaded Xander.

‘Really?’ said Tony. ‘What about this?’

The bully held up the drawing Xander had given Timmy Fontaine. It was now covered in spots of blood … presumably Timmy’s.

‘So we’re toast, are we?’ said Jeff. ‘Well, if we’re toast, then you’re, um, you’re …’

‘Yeah, that would make you the, errr …’ said Tony.

As the Claggs struggled to come up with a killer metaphor, Xander shut his eyes and mentally drew a cartoon of himself as a musclebound superhero with a giant ‘T’ on his chest. He was shooting flames at the Bruise Brothers, depicted as pieces of toast, with the caption: ‘You’re the toast and I’m … “The Toaster”!’

Five minutes later, as they approached a grey brick toilet block by the beach, the Bruise Brothers were still struggling with their ‘toast-related’ word play.

‘… So hang on, is Xander the toast, or are we the toast?’ asked Jeff.

‘I think we’re the toast, so he’s like the … butter, maybe?’

‘Because butter squishes? So … would it be better if he was margarine? That squishes even easier …’

‘Don’t worry about it, we’re here,’ said Tony gruffly. ‘Now go and check if the coast is clear.’

‘The coast? As in the beach?’

Tony rolled his eyes.

‘No, the loos!’

‘Oh!’ Jeff ducked inside the old toilet block, then quickly reappeared. ‘No one’s here!’ he declared.

‘Excellent,’ said Tony, pushing Xander roughly in front of him.

Xander was bustled into the larger disabled cubicle and Jeff shut the door, locking it behind them.

‘Today we’re going to give you a Bruise Brothers specialty,’ announced Tony. ‘The Royal Flush!’

Xander was terrified, but his curiosity got the better of him.

‘So … you guys have names for all the mean things you do?’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Jeff proudly. ‘We’ve got the Sock and Roll, the Hedge of Darkness, the Sand Wedgie …’

‘Stop giving away trade secrets!’ hissed Tony.

He turned to Xander and held up the bloodied drawing.

‘This is why you must pay.’

The bullies grabbed Xander by the shoulders, ripping his shirt as they dragged his head towards the toilet bowl.

‘Damn! It’s a clean one,’ moaned Jeff.

Xander sighed, but his relief was short-lived as his head was pushed downwards, then hit with a liquid explosion as Tony pressed the flush button.

The Bruise Brothers howled with laughter as Xander spluttered out water that felt as if it had reached the base of his lungs.

‘What’s that, Beast? You want another ride? Okay then!’ said Tony.

Xander felt the pressure reapplied to the back of his head, and once again he was subjected to the Royal Flush. He was then dragged back so that he was sitting with his knees to his chest and his back to the cubicle door.

‘Beast, with your hair you’d make a good toilet brush,’ suggested Tony.

‘Nah, his hair’s too soft — you need those hard-plastic bristly bits …’

‘It was a joke, Jeff!’

‘Oh yeah — good one.’

Xander let out a small sigh. At least it’s over, he thought.

‘Let’s check out what’s in his bag,’ suggested Tony.

Xander’s eyebrows shot skywards, telling the bullies all they needed to know.

‘Oooh, there’s definitely something in there he’s worried about,’ squealed Jeff.

Tony tipped up the bag and the pen and bottle of ink fell onto the floor.

Instinctively Xander reached out to grab them, but Jeff was too quick.

‘I think we need another flush!’

‘Agreed,’ said Tony with a cruel smile.

Xander looked on as Jeff opened the ink jar and tipped its blue contents into the toilet. After placing the empty bottle and the pen into the bowl, he raised his right hand and extended his pointer finger.

‘Noooooooo!’ yelled Xander.

‘Serves you right, Beast,’ said Tony. ‘You do a nasty drawing of us, and we destroy one of your stupid pens.’

Jeff pushed the button and the roaring, flushing sound started up straight away.