Minty breath

Minty breath

Rotten lime balls came sailing through the reddened sky, and wacked my brother square in the forehead. He was slightly dazed from the impact and didn’t respond, till dozens as hard as golf balls, came sailing through the broken window like a flock of birds. My brother moaned, as we sprinted down the stairs. I did everything I could to shield him from the true risk of invasion that we faced every hour of the day, but at times like this there wasn’t all much I could do. As he began to complain that the bread might become as wet as my dad’s swimming trunks, I told him very firmly to “keep it down!”. If our home was invaded, then we would have no where to live and probably starve as we coughed down dried corn in an effort to stay alive.

It was the crippling radiation sickness that had swept the world, which broke the flowers genetic profiles. Something that the sun had caused, supposedly, when it started to inflate in size and the radiation levels effected the botanical world. As crops wilted and human society broke away, whilst the food chain struggled to survive, humanity soon descended into chaos. The military began as a helping hand, but soon they stored up all the weaponry and equipment for personal use. To be used by them exclusively for their own survival. Forgetting the populous, they had left civilians to improvise when protecting their own lives.

My gang consisted of me, my father and brother. As one fearless band, we were endlessly fighting against the Gogg gogg tribe. Many generations ago, the Gogg gogg tribe used to my families neighbors. When they built a gigantic oak tree which blocked all light from my families living room and cast all the garden under its shadow, a great rift began between the two houses. Starting with many raised eyebrows, my ancestors purposefully dunk digestives into their steaming tea, as if dumping the neighbors heads under the toilet. Everyone now a days, is a loosely controlled criminal, and so the rift widened, and our back gardens became war zones.

I saw from the open back door, a member of our old enemies arising from the decayed rose bush. Blast my drunk dad for not keeping closer tabs on our great barrier of entry.

The foe howled as the Gogg gogg tribe so often did, for they spent much of their time hunting with the scavenging wolves which roamed America. The intruder had been using his stash of tooth paste too regularly, for the minty breath could be tasted even from here. His teenage odor was intense and he smelt like my wrinkly socks. He was wearing a dustbin lid as protective armor over his chest. At his sides was two bottles of doves washing up liquid, the zesty lemon addition, ready for firing at enemies eyes incase of a sneaky attack. From one hand to another he tossed two more lime balls.

Crashing over a few chairs and nearly toppling over my dog who was chewing the lion skin rug, I made it just in time to prevent the intruder from reaching the marble steps. Well now the dog was shredding the carpet to pieces, my fortress was well defended from furniture I suppose. Perhaps not inspiring the terror needed to intimidate the Gogg gogg tribe. When the dog rolled on its back, asking for a quick tummy rub, I knew all hope was lost. I decided the best cause of action would be to catch the man surprise with a cream pie attack.

“Another step and you shall feel the terrible might, of the Barbican family” I roared, as boldly as a lion. Holding a pastry case in one hand, I menacingly squired whipped cream into it.

The foe seemed hardly to falter but stood there for a moment, full of something akin to intrigue. “Could I have that projectile with fruity salad on top?” he asked. This question stumped me greatly, for I had never heard of an opponent specifying the exact nature of the culinary weapon that he wished to be used mercilessly against him. Each of my eyebrows raised into a triangle, full with suspicion, I nodded. Then I realized his request was a ploy to divert my attention. As soon as I turned to look for some rotting fruit, I heard the crunching of dried twigs as the man came close.

I turned around just in time to see the enemy advancing on our soil, and wrestled him to the ground, his dustbin lid clanging with the sound of the impact. When the vibrations had died away, I whispered “stay down, I need to check if my dad is watching.” He nodded as I rose and scanned the surroundings. Luckily my dad was not about and all the windows facing the garden had a thick curtain drawn to prevent any spying from the enemy clan.

I lifted him upright, gripping him tightly by the hand, as I said “good to see you Jordon, missed you a lot but you really should be more careful. If my dad caught sight of you, well you would be lucky not to have a broken limb.”

“You act decently man” Jordon complemented, giving me a pat on a shoulder and brief kiss on the cheek. “I just wanted to see how you’re rose bush is doing. But looking at it, it seems as withered as our chances of watching a good movie tonight. You’re dad hasn’t gone out drinking with his pals tonight, I suppose? I saw him hitting the microwave earlier, power shortage again I guess. But hey, I suppose these are the times we live in full of those solar flares our unruly sun loves emitting.”

Unfortunately, my dad came charging out of the door perfectly on cue. In his gruff voice he growled, “where is this rascal, your brother is still recovering with a icepack around his head and our bread is as wet as soup”.

“Dad, please, he looks quiet harmless” I stammered, in an effort to appease my father’s blood lust.

Father’s eyes fixed upon the culprit.

Although I tried to shield Jordon from my fathers sight, it was too late. My father charged with a club made of nougat. The intruder ran as fast as he could, yet he couldn’t quiet make it all the way to safety. Like a barbarian my dad seemed mad with rage, his eyes almost burning. He wacked the intruder round the head. I froze in shock as Jordon fell onto the ground, now blacked out.

“Get this imposter into our abode immediately, and make sure he is well restrained!” my father bellowed, pointing one sausage like finger to our battered open door. “I want him to spill all the beans and explain how we can break in, then we can take that beautiful house from his folk, and if their very lucky, I might let them sleep under my own basement.” Grinning, he stormed off, tempered, but doubtlessly thinking about he was nearly one house closer to building his empire and ruling the entirety of California.

When the world was dark outside, apart from a few flickering street lights, Jordon awoke. His eyes where blinking, taking a few seconds to adjust to the very bright light coming from the candelabra, far above. It was looming over his head. My father got out the squeaky violin and slowly played a few minor arpeggios. Speaking in a deep and raspy voice, he said “where is the keys to your abode?”. A ice cold blade suddenly appeared under the prisoner’s chin.

Jordon chuckled. “Excuse me my kind sir, but do you mean to interrogate me with a plastic party knife? I mean, I really like this chilling atmosphere, but I doubt you could even cutter butter with your chosen instrument?” Jordon smirked a little but my dad had already realized his blunder, and was too busy frantically searching through the kitchen doors, before the suspect perceived any more weakness associated with his interrogators precautions. Jordon gestured at his right pocket with his hand, and mouthed the word “help”. I put my hands into the pocket and grabbed onto a oval stone. My mind went back to those times where we used to throw pebbles into the pond we had met at, both trying to escape the bleak world we lived in . Making small ripples we attracted the attention of a family of ducks, which we fed with what little bit of food we had brought for lunch. Releasing what I had to do, I ran outside whilst my dad was distracted.

“Unless of course I have already taken such a sharp weapon to cut the rope binding me here?” suggested Jordon, as I tossed the stone to get a feeling for its aerodynamic features and testing force drag forces.

“I guess….” stuttered my father, very red in the face. He looked around in terror, and then back at the prisoner, half expecting Jordon to leap from his confines. “And so might I suggest you start running now?” proposed the prisoner, as the stone smashed the neighbors colored glass window. Howling erupted from next door, and then the ground began to ruble as Jordon’s parents, aunts and uncles came charging and jumped over the fence.

A few things then happened in quick succession. My father found at last a shark pointy thing, all be it a grain of sand, which is indeed pointy when looked at under a microscope. He also felt the heavy whack of a well risen tiger bread loaf, thrown by Jordan’s uncle. It knocked him out flat without the help of the onion which came sailing over his falling body.

In the mayhem, Jordan and I rushed upstairs, hiding from his family who where undoubtedly ransacking my gangs larder of eggs, bacon and ground spices. “Well, your father won’t forget me anytime soon” grinned Jordon. He moved a bit closer and played with his hands nervously, glancing up at me on occasion whilst mainly following a spider which was scuttling along the floor boards. “Blast it! Why don’t we just leave this mess. Go out into the wild, just you and me. Not gonna be exactly peach perfect, but it will at least a solid life, something better than this nightmare.”

“Jordon, I don’t know if I can” I said, with tears leaking from eyes. I wanted to leave so badly. But my brother was already on the edge with fear, and my father’s temper didn’t help.

“You know I can’t stay here, not now your father has seen me. When he wakes, he’ll hunt me down and make having me wacked over by nougat, feel like being struck by candy floss.”

Jordon tried to pass off his fear with a few more jokes. Bowing my head, I was about to convince him to stay. I was desperately trying to assure myself that there had to be a way to keep us together, till I realized there was none. I felt so helpless. So small. So afraid. So lost in this world.

Jordon wiped a tear from my face and looked at me lovingly, right in the eyes. “I can’t face this hell alone” I said, almost choking on my words.

Then he held me tight and said, “I’ll always come back, if I can, but keep this.” He then reached into his left pocket and drew out a golden heart shaped locket, with the symbol of the oak tree decorated onto its front.

I closed my hands around it, pressing it tightly in my palm till it grew warm. He gave me one last kiss, his minty breath the most refreshing and paradisiac taste in the cosmos. Then he gave me a bone crushing hug, and before he escaped into the wilderness, he put his palms together and made the love heart shape of the locket.