A Short Story: Frazer’s Fantasy
Chapter 1: The Beginning
I woke up with a throbbing headache. I looked around. I was in a drain, about 2m in diameter, and covered in what seemed to be wet ravioli!
It was then that I noticed the figure standing to my right, who was looking about as bad as I was. “Who are you?” I asked. The figure didn’t seem to hear the question, and started to wonder out loud. “What is the world coming to?” he sighed, and I realized who it was!
“Hey, Price! Do you remember anything? ‘Cause I sure don’t!”
“Nope, not a thing, except that I’m Matt Price and you’re Frazer…Frazer…”
“Gault. Frazer Gault,” I reminded him.
We decided to see where the drain went, and after a while we could see a bright light, way up ahead. Running the rest of the way, we reached the light quickly, and saw that it was an open manhole with a ladder to the surface. As we climbed up the ladder, the last of the ravioli fell off; leaving us wet and miserable by the time we reached the top.
Chapter 2: The First Middle Bit
Seeing as we couldn’t remember a thing, we decided to go to the police for help. Well, Price suggested that and I agreed, but that doesn’t really matter.
“No, we’re not street urchins; we’ve forgotten everything and need the police for help finding our parents!” Price was trying to persuade a woman to tell us where the police station was, but she mistook us for homeless orphans. She wore a disgusted look as Price talked to her. “Please, please, please! We desperately need to know who we are!” He started begging, and eventually the lady gave in and told us where it was.
When we arrived at the police station we explained our situation to the receptionist, and she took us to a small room with three chairs. I sat in one and Price sat in the other, because the third was occupied by a tall officer with a curly mustache like the ones in cartoons (the mustache, not the officer!).
“Now then, what can you remember?”
“Nothing, nothing and more nothing.”
“Except our names.”
“Right then. What are your names? We can search our database and find your parents, who will hopefully refresh your memory. If you have any, that is.”
“Frazer Gault and Matt Price. I’m Frazer, he’s Matt.” I said.
The officer went away to search, and we were left alone in the room. “What are we going to do if he can’t find anything?” I asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he replied, “and I have every bit of confidence that we’ll be fine, whatever happens.”
“I’m glad someone’s feeling optimistic,” I muttered.
Chapter 3: The Second Middle Bit
The officer (called Frank) got back two days later. Price and I had looked at orphanages in the phone book, just in case. The only vacancies in the
As it happened, Frank had no results, so we told him our plan and he rang the orphanage. They had two spaces left, so we took them immediately. A Big Mistake, as we were going to find out later.
Frank drove us to OHO. When we got there we thanked him for everything, waving as he drove into the distance.
“What a friend! I wish he could visit us sometime!” Price remarked. I agreed entirely.
Mrs. Madam, the Matron, met us and took our bags. She seemed very nice, and when she had put our bags upstairs, she showed us the other orphans. They were very friendly, and we were told by Cookie, the chef, that they didn’t get many visitors.
“We’re not visitors, we’re here to stay!” Price told Cookie.
“Oh! What a pleasant surprise!” Cookie was funny like that.
Mrs. Matron, as we called her, took us on a tour of the OHO.
“You’d better be paying attention,” she said, “you wouldn’t want to get lost now, would you?” The smile that crossed her lips looked nasty, even evil. Price shivered.
After the tour we lay on our beds, exhausted (we shared a room). OHO was so big!
Mrs. Matron came in. “Dinner’s at five, and try not to got lost.” Again with the evil smile. Weird.
Time passed, and we talked, mostly Price explaining the scientific nonsense that splurged out of his mouth constantly, and after what seemed like 2 minutes, but was actually 2 hours, the bell rang for dinner.
We hurtled downstairs, Price’s photographic memory navigating. When we got to the dining room, Mrs. Matron asked, “have you washed your hands?”
“Yes,” Price lied, but it got us nowhere.
“Well go and wash them again!” commanded Matron.
Again we rocketed round to the bathroom, for we were ravenous, and got back in record time.
We took our places at the table and dinner began. Price was rubbing his hands, and I wasn’t surprised! Everything was so nice here, the food would surely be brilliant.
Cookie came in with two steaming plates of spinach in each hand!
I felt sick. Oh G-d. Price made a vomiting motion and smiled at me, but did nothing to cheer me up. Spinach. Spinach for lunch, dinner, snacks and hopefully not breakfast. Probably not breakfast.
Ours came, and it was worse than I first expected. The spinach was sloppy, slimy and generally ‘eheu!’ (oh no! for those who don’t know). Price was having the same sort of problems.
After seven weeks of comprehensions, spinach, Evil Smile and general torture, a visitor arrived. He was a farmer, and he wanted to adopt two boys…
Chapter 4: The Last Bit
After the farmer had seen all the boys, he said he liked the look of Price and another boy called Joe Tomson. Me and Price were going to be split up!
“I’ll have him and him!” announced the farmer. I took a moment to realise the farmer had pointed at me and Price!
“WOOHOO!!!” we shouted in perfect harmony. Farm life was OK, but any life was better than OHO life.
We talked to the farmer while he drove us to his farm, and you’ll never guess what type of farmer he was. He was a CRÈME EGG farmer!!!!!!!!!!!!
As it turned out, he had normal chickens, but he fed them on special home-grown (yes I did just say grown) chocolate and also sugar grain (he said it was pure glucose, but I haven’t got a clue what that meant. Price seemed to though.).
When we got to the farm, the first thing he showed us was the egg stores. He said they had all the things you need to be healthy in them, and he was going to make his millions with them. He also said that if we worked hard, we would get our fair share!
It was amazing there, and we only ever ate crème eggs! Crème egg omelettes, Fried crème egg, crème egg smoothie and even crème egg jelly (by the way, these may not sound very nice, but all of them of them are beautifully amazingly delicious.).
We had settled in nicely into our new home, and were happy for it to go on like this. We worked hard, we got paid, and I thought it carry on like this when Uncle, as he liked us to call him, summoned us to his office. I could tell this would not be good.
We knocked and entered, and took a seat.
“Gentlemen, I have a mission for you…”
To Be Continued…