The Temple in the Sky - Fernando Herrera Jr (children's ebooks online .TXT) 📗

with a smoother, more gentile tone, while stroking his thick scarlet mustache.
“He’s a spy from the blasted hoodlums of Aledren, I tell yo!” Harggot firmly compelled his answer with a groggy and croaky pitched voice.
“A spy…? But he is merely a child—a teenage boy, no older than the tender Adonia,” Chapwook responded.
“I wouldn put that pass ‘em. They’s capable of such immoralitay,” Harggot affirmed.
“Don’t be foolish old man. What we have here is something much more fascinating. Historical, I might add. Hell! This might just as well end up written in next year’s history books! That sick boy we have lying in that room is nothing less and nothing more than an extraterrestrial being!—Not of our world. Maybe of the divine world.” E’goone declared.
“Blatherskite! And you’s callins Harggot foolish? That’s a bunch of wishful and pretentious gobbledygook. You would love that to be the case. It would certainly ease yo monotony, wouldn’t it? He’s nothin more than the product of a grotesque mutation—probably the result of the toxic Aledren wastelands,” Harggot retorted slapping his crinkly hand on the table.
“Don’t be irreverent! Have you heard him speak? That is no ordinary tongue. That is an unknown foreign dialect—not from this world—certainly,” Chapwook acknowledged crossing his arms.
“He’s a foreign, mutant freak from Aledren,” Harggot insisted with a crooked smirk, twitching the left side of his curled mustache.
“Harggot, you know very well that boy is not of our nature. Stop your nonsense and arrogance. That boy is foreign and you know it. Now, we need to figure out what we’re going to do with him. What if that mysterious tongue he utters is the language of the divine? I feel this is much to pivotal for us to tamper with. Whatever the nature it may be,” E’goone suggested.
“Let’s hand him over to the decree affiliates, let theym take care of him.” Harggot proposed as he sank his left hand in the pocket of his faded navy-blue coat.
“The control division? They’re just law enforcement. That won’t do any good. They won’t know any better than us what to do.” E’goone countered.
“Very well, let’s taka him to Aledren thein. He’s therr experiment anyway. He probably ran away cause he didn’t like theim. I woulda darn the same. Their may be a generous reward if we return heim. Ya know whatta mean?” Harggot responded puffing smoke as he lit a thick cigar he pulled out from his pocket.
“The Aledren are never generous—not with us. Look, I’ll take the boy back home with me until we can figure something out. You both need worry no more of this matter. I shall take it upon myself to see that this boy is well taken care of… And turn that thing off you insolent fool! Can’t you see we’re in a sanatorium!?” Chapwook shouted while flicking the cigar from Harggot’s mouth.
“How dare yo flick my cigar!? You insolent ol’ froth bag!” He bent over to pick it up and continued, “Why I oughtta–”
An attractive woman about the age of twenty appeared from a doorway and interrupted the dispute. The three men hastily stood up and took their caps off in courtesy, exposing their shiny bald-heads and ginger colored, furry little ears. Harggot hastily extinguished his cigar burning a hole through the broadcloth of his coat and placed it back into his pocket, whilst regaining his elegant stance. “Good evening, doctor,” they greeted her in nervous synchronization.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” She spoke with a soft and arresting womanly-voice. “I have good news. I am pleased to inform you that dear Adonia is no longer in severe hemorrhage. Actually, other than a few bumps and scratches, you’re little girl is doing just fine. I have stitched her most sever wound and she is no longer in pain. Her knee was fractured, so she will not be able to walk for at least a couple of weeks, but with the assistance of a good wheel-chair, she can resume her activities in just two days rest. I will bring her out in just a minute.”
“What about the boy? How is he managing?” asked Chapwook concerned.
“Well, he’s not too well, but he could be worse. He’s been asleep for the past three hours and has kept a high fever of 103. His blood pressure is extremely low and he has been suffering from intermediate lapses of ventricular tachycardia and arterial fibrillation. It looks as if he barely came out of hypothermia. His blood pressure has steadily maintained a 70/40 mmHg—which is dangerously low—and he is in the early stages of gangrene—that’s why his skin appears blue and puffy. That poor boy, he’s even abiding minor frost bite. I have placed him in the revascularization machine. It will help his blood vessels recuperate and reverse necrosis to boost his healing. It seems to me he has experienced rapid changes in elevation and temperature within a very short period of time—very unusual. Either he was submerged into deep levels of water or he has been exposed to extremely high altitudes. Regardless, it’s a miracle he’s alive. He’s a tough kid. You know, he may as well have saved Adonia’s life. She told me the bridge collapsed and that he jumped into the rapids after her. As sick as he is, he rescued her from the river and then carried her home all the way from the quinquennium ruins.”
“Oh yee sure… what a coincident, he jus happen to appear outta nowhere at the precise time the bridge collapsed. It’s a divine, miraculous occurrence…! Hail the brown ugla-boya! Whoopeedeedooha! He is the expected messiah! Preposterousness! If ya ask meself, I think he had somethin to do with it. Yo know… with the bridge collapsing,” Harggot sarcastically and arrogantly suggested.
“Well it’s a good thin no ones askin ya, Harggot! Yee blasted pirate,” E’goone countered mockingly. “The bridge was ancient and you know it. The boy did just happen to be at the right place at that right time. It was nothing less than an exceptional, providential episode to which we should all be grateful for—a miracle indeed. Thank god for the boy. His feat proves he has kindness in his heart. Now listen here you old scoundrel, you better stop with your ugly enmity before I rip that single little hair of yours off your polished bald-head and tie it around your pouty, little beak!” E’goone threatened with a low and hoarse, dire tone in his voice as he clinched his fist at Harggot. “Any ideas as to what he might be—Miss Arietta?” asked E’goone tenderly, completely morphing his tone for the likes of a lovely lady.
“Well, Mr.Goone, sir, I’ve examined him thoroughly and I think he may be anthropomorphic in nature. Clearly, he’s a sapient class alien. You see, I’ve tested his blood and placed him on the weighing scale—barely weighs 140 pounds. That’s very light for his height and proportions, compared to our Polian boys about his age who probably weigh at least 170 pounds. This may suggest that the world he came from has a slighter, stronger gravity force, and probably higher atmospheric pressure than our own. I think his body may have a difficult time adapting to our gravity. He is an AB phenotype—I traced large quantities of immunoglobulin antibodies and he has white and red cells just like we do. I also found a very low density in his skeletal marrow. I also ran his body through the electro-magnetized radiator for a photographic plate. He has a strong heart that beats extremely fast, but that may as well be due to his malady—and his organs seem to be in place, but his brain is slightly larger than ours. So besides the obvious physical differences, he’s practically anthropomorphic—could be of sapien descent. I did not trace any forms of viruses or diseases, and in fact, he’s a very healthy boy. I think he’ll recover just fine. Any ideas as to where is he going to stay?”
“I’m going to take him home with me. He can take up the spare bed-room,” Chapwook answered.
“Oh… well, that’s good. I will be willing to take care of him in the meantime. Any thoughts as to what you will do with him?”
“Well, for now, he’ll stay with us—secretly of course. Miss Arietta, I hope you can keep a secret.”
“Bad idea,” Harggot mumbled nonchalantly into E’goone’s ear.
“Oh, my dear Chaps, don’t you worry, my darling, your secret is safe with me,” the doctor responded. 
 “Thank you my child. It’s for the best that this is kept between us, at least whilst we figure out what to do of this little predicament. I have a feeling this is going to prove a very difficult assignment. I believe that his transportation was accidental and I fear he will not be able to return home… not for a while,” Chapwook answered.
“Yes, of course. I understand. Do you suppose he will adapt? I mean, judging by his garments, he looks of archaic times. What should we tell him once he learns our idiom?”
“I assume we will have to tell him the truth. If he is to stay, he will certainly have to adapt to our ways and technology. He can’t go about living here in sheer oblivion. It is our only alternative. He is young, therefore he’ll learn our language quickly—and when he does, we will introduce him to our society and culture. He will attend school like a normal boy and live a normal life. I will do as much as I can to care for him. I owe it to him. After all, he did save the life of my last grandchild.”
“He isn’t your son, Chappy boy. Yo plan to fill your lost Pillotin’s shoes with him, dontcha? He’s not one of us. Do reconsider, old-man. What happens when they come back for him? Have you thoughta that, wise main?” Harggot asked.
“Nobody’s coming back for him. They have not the slightest clue of his whereabouts. I guarantee his transportation was unintentional. And I do not plan to replace him as my son! Have you no heart? This boy will be heartbroken once he finds out the new circumstances of his reality. He will never see his mother or father or the rest of his family, ever again. That poor boy left everything he ever knew behind forever. He will suffer more than you can even begin to comprehend. It’s the least I can do as a sincere person.”
“He’s right, Harggot. What is wrong with you? Have you no ethic? We have to take him in as our own. It is the right thing to do. That is what the lord wants. He is welcome in my tree as well,” E’goone added.
Harggot observed them with his miniscule eyes. His breath was heavy and he was annoyed; but he did have a heart; he was just an angry-old-pessimistic-sour-puss; in fact, they were all excited from the idea of keeping the boy. None of the Trouffles were fortunate enough to have grandchildren. Besides Adonia, there were no other Trouffle children left. Chapwook had lost his only other grandson during a war, along with his only son and his wife. E’goone was married but never had children, which of course made it quite difficult to have grandchildren. Harggot, likewise, was married—and he in the other hand had a daughter but she hadn’t married and her youth was quickly withering away. The boy could certainly fill the spot for a much wanted Trouffle grandson. However, there was one obstacle they had to outdo before they could call him their own…
“And what do we do when the Aledren decree bust in through your door and demand a license? You’s can’t hide that boy foreva.