by J.C. Fiske
Chapter 11: An Ominous Threat
As summer went by, Gisbo actually began to enjoy his busy schedule. Getting up early was of course a struggle, but once he was up, he enjoyed attending his morning classes and working with his new friends, Grandfield and Shaved. Friendship was something of a luxury before Heaven’s Shelter and it still felt a bit odd to him after being alone for so long, but he also realized it was something he could get used to. All the boys had different jobs to do and worked well together. Rolce ended up taking care of the financial end of the store, handling the accounting as well as figuring out clever ways to save the shop money through his various economic and mathematical skills.
Shaved helped Ernie and Dave with the production and engineering side, making his father quite proud of his natural ability for the trade, and even Knob stopped in once in a while to help, offering up several blue-print designs for odd gadgets he was tampering with. Grandfield was also a big help, taking care of the customer service and sales, convincing many purchasers with an unlikely charm he himself didn’t realize he had. As for Gisbo, he was not overjoyed with his position, but he didn’t mind it either. Unlike his friends, he didn’t have the patience for people with stupid questions, nor the patience for craftsmanship and especially he lacked the patience for crunching numbers. The only thing left was all the manual labor, janitorial and gopher work around the shop.
After work, Gisbo and Rolce became accustomed to fishing. This was something Gisbo found he did have the patience for and, oddly enough, it relaxed him immensely just being out in the woods on a warm summer day by the still waters. Falcon and Moordin joined them frequently to take part in the male bonding.
In this fashion, the weeks went by and both boys found themselves holders of new titles engraved proudly across their belts. Rolce was awarded several, including the mark of intellect for reciting an entire chapter of a textbook. He floored his competition by nearly two thousand words and also crushed all competition in non-essence arm wrestling. Symbols in the shape of a question mark and a bicep now pulsated on his belt.
As for Gisbo, he defended his eating championship three times that summer and, due to an unnoticeable low blow, stole the title for non-essence sparring from right under a Renegara’s nose and took the symbol of a pulsating fist for his own belt. For Gisbo and Rolce, as far as they knew, this was the best summer was of their lives and their friendship with one another grew to the point that it felt as if they had known each other their whole lives.
Upon summer’s completion, the days of autumn grew quickly upon them. Forest leaves began turning various colors, floated to the ground and were swept along on the breeze in a streaming collage. Strangely enough, the tropical trees didn’t mind the colder weather at all. They remained just as green and lush as when Gisbo first saw them.
For Gisbo and especially Grandfield, their favorite part of fall in Heaven’s Shelter was the tantalizing smells wafting from the commons. Every morning the boys would stroll through on their way to class to be greeted by the aromas of pumpkin and apple pies, pumpkin bread and apple crisp and the sweet smell of hot caramel. These days Grandfield arrived a little later then usual, unable to resist purchasing a candied apple on a stick with coconut topping, a personal favorite. Surprisingly, Roarie did not seem to mind.
In fact, everybody, including Grandfield, was showing magnificent improvement upon their first days and, as the weeks flew by, their teacher went from uptight sociopath to relatively easy going, even friendly. Even Gisbo developed a deep thankfulness for the woman as he completed his exercises with ease now and felt the results of his strength training in everything he did.
Roarie’s exercises put him in the kind of shape he had never thought possible. He felt powerful, with a deadly agility to match. He figured that with his luck so far, taking on another wolf pack would be no sweat. Even more incredible however was that, for the first time in his career as a student, Gisbo had not once gotten into trouble! He was even able to shun Ranto’s obvious attempts at a fight, not because he had learned patience, Thera wasn’t meant to spin backward you know, but because the thought of rescuing Jackobi focused his mind these days. But today was a new day and with it, there was always an opportunity for someone to rub him the wrong way . . .
One breezy morning the boys arrived early to class for a change. The previous day Roarie had told them that she would have an important announcement and everyone waited in anticipation. By now they were used to their routine of daily workouts and this break from convention felt strange. Finally, their instructor arrived on the field with her band of Renegara helpers.
“Good morning, my fighters! As of yesterday, you may have noticed how easy it was for you to complete your exercises. Why, you ask? It’s because you have reached the requirements for Renega training and I, as your beautiful instructor, am deeply proud! You have all shown much dedication and improvement and I hope that at least now you understand why I was so hard on you initially. You are warriors and life won’t throw you any favors, especially in the middle of a fight. Now, my good boys and girls, you are ready to take the next step in your Renega training,” Roarie said, face beaming with satisfaction. With this, she held up several shiny metallic rings which glistened in a rainbow of colors in the morning sunlight.
“These are your first Elekai’ rings. You won’t see these babies anywhere outside Heaven’s Shelter. Many other cultures still hold the stones by hand. Pitiful, I know, but you will be different,” Roarie said as she held her own ring up in the light.
“These rings are made in the same fashion as all Elekai’ weapons. We grind up the stone and bond it with steel, making our essence much more convenient to call upon. These rings will prove to be the conduit for exceptional skills later on, but as of right now, you won’t use your essence until prepared,” Roarie cautioned as she paced back and forth with her arms behind her back.
“When these rings are placed upon your fingers, they will begin to churn the essence within you, preparing it for the right time when you will finally release it upon training for your third band. Should you fall out of shape, you will quickly feel the consequences. The essence will prepare itself much slower and will cause your body immense pain. Think of a flowing river and then slowly, as your body falls out of shape, a dam grows in the middle of it, stopping it and building up pressure. The river of course doesn’t stop. It will always find a way around it. If not through it, it will find another way, like, possibly, bursting right through your very skin,” Roarie continued. Grandfield gulped and dropped his caramel coated apple to the ground.
“These rings are NOT coming off, so it is now up to you to keep your bodies in shape to allow the essence to flow peacefully through you and adapt. Think of these rings as little personal Roaries to encourage you every day!” Roarie said in her usual sickening sweetness. They all nodded in silence as Gisbo muttered something under his breath.
“Well, after that, I suppose you lot deserve some good news though, so here it is. You have now completed the first stage of my class,” Roarie announced, with a very proud grin on her face.
“Your next instructor will focus on the philosophies that accompany the Elekai' powers and from there your third instructor will teach you to combine all you have learned into unleashing your essence through weapons. You will not use your powers until this third notch of your training. Don’t even try it! Your bodies being out of shape is the least of your worries. You don't want to know what happens if you ignite your essence when it is not properly distributed! I can assure you, human bombs do exist.” Roarie let her last sentence sit for a bit, enjoying the looks on their faces.
“Alrighty then! Now, if you please, break off into groups according to your race and let's pass out the rings. Orderly fashion now, Flarians to my left, Soarians to my right, Naforians and Aquarians make up the outsides. Come on, come on, don’t stand there looking stupid, Grandfield. You’re a Flarian, over here,” Roarie ordered pointing to her right as the boys and girls began separating.
Gisbo made his way to the Flarian group with Grandfield, along with two girls and one other boy. During training he had only really befriended Shaved and Grandfield. Now he was pleased to have a chance to meet a few other Flarians like himself. Instinctively, he thrust out his hand to the boy Flarian.
“Good to see another Flarian like myself. I’m Gisbo, Gisbo Falcon,” said Gisbo with a cheery air that surprised even himself.
The boy stared at his hand. He was dressed in Shininja attire and had long, straightened, amber colored hair swooped down to his chin. A typical Shininja mask covered the lower portion of his face, but his eyes were distant and dark. He was about the same height as Gisbo, but leaner. The boy did not extend his hand to meet Gisbo’s. Instead, he glared at it with a hint of disgust, followed by a small chuckle.
“Did I miss something funny?” Gisbo asked the boy sternly. The Flarian boy turned his head in indifference and ran a hand back through his silk like hair.
“What else are fools good for if not laughter? Save it. I have no intention of befriending the likes of you, nor anyone here,” the boy said as he turned his back on Gisbo with his arms crossed, suddenly finding the sky quite fascinating.
Gisbo went wide-eyed and Grandfield put a hand on Gisbo’s shoulder to prevent him from doing anything rash when one of the girls beside him did it for him.
“Excuse me, but who the hell do you think you are?” demanded the girl, stepping in front of Gisbo. She was short, nearly shorter than Roarie. She was dressed in Berserker attire, had dirty blonde hair tied back in a long braid and had a tone of voice as quick and sharp as razor blade. Gisbo couldn’t help it. Instant admiration washed over him as the little girl ripped into the red-headed boy with a viscous verbal assault.
“Listen up, Rake! We left where we were so we Flarians wouldn’t have to deal with stupid jerks like you! Show some gratitude for where you are. The guy was only trying to be friendly, jerkwad,” the girl snarled. A wicked grin stretched across Gisbo's face. He couldn’t have done any better if he tried. The red-headed boy turned around to face her.
“Please, tell me. Why is it that the ones so short of stature always pack the biggest mouths?” Rake wondered aloud. Gisbo was about to hit him until the short girl beat him to the punch, literally. Like a little wolverine, the girl jumped him in a storm of scratches, bites and rabid punches as if it were the fight of her life.
Gisbo didn’t even bother to break up the scuffle. He stood with his mouth agape in a smile and watched with glee as others rushed in to separate the two. When they were pulled apart, Roarie, well, roared at the both of them.
“That is enough! Rake and Kinny, you both give the Flarian race a bad name! Punishments for the two of you after this class session is through. Flarians especially need to mind their tempers! You must demonstrate control or you will never become Renegaras! That goes for you three as well, you understand me?” Roarie shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Gisbo, Grandfield and the other Flarian girl.
“Yeah! I understand that this guy Rake is a complete butthole!” Gisbo railed, pointing at the red-haired boy. Roarie reared on him, shoving her face in his, doing a little jump to do so.
“Are you saying you would you like to join your two friends in punishments this afternoon? I dare you to go further, pup! Try me! Just try me!” Roarie challenged, her words dripping with venom. Gisbo flinched a little, but then smiled.
“Hmm . . .” Gisbo said in mock wonder as he shot a look at Rake, then back at Roarie. Rolce eyeballed him, shaking his head slowly as if saying, Don’t do it, stupid…
“After careful consideration…” Gisbo trailed off as he reared back mid-sentence with lightning speed and collided his fist with Rake’s face. It was a cheap trick. Rake didn’t even see it coming and fell backward with a yelp as the other Renegaras caught him. Kinny smiled at Gisbo with silent respect. Roarie looked at the fallen Rake clutching his nose and back at Gisbo, her face of utter shock.
“You . . . you surpass your Class Master’s stupidity by a thousand leaps! You will pay for your disobedience by serving your punishment with Renegade Purah himself Right. This. Instant! Fighting is one thing, direct disobedience to your instructor is another matter. Now take your ring!” Roarie said as she grabbed Gisbo’s hand, thrust a ring on it and gave a kick to his backside, shuffling him forward. “Gamba, escort this idiot to Purah and explain the situation fully. Go! ”
“Your hair color goes well with a bloody nose, jerk,” Gisbo said to Rake as the boy wiped away the blood, snarling.
“GO!” Roarie yelled again, pointing in the direction of the tower as she laid a swift backhand to Gisbo’s head.
“OUCH! I’m goin'! I’m goin'! JEESH! Crazy old hag . . .” Gisbo said, rubbing his head and muttering more inaudible things under his breath.
As Gisbo walked with Gamba, he realized that he hadn’t hit a person like that in quite some time. He told himself whatever the punishment was, it was well worth it. He strutted along beside Gamba, who wore Nazarite attire. The boy was a Renegara and the same one who helped erect the running hills, or molehills, as Roarie liked to call them, on their first day. He had whitish blond hair tied tight in a ponytail and had bright green eyes.
“Don’t worry, I saw how the whole thing went down. I would have hit the little snot too,” Gamba said with a wink. Gisbo looked a bit taken aback.
“I’ll explain everything to Purah. He’s quite the reasonable guy, ya know. He’s head of the Renegade instructors. He practically planned out the entire Renegade training regime and curriculum all on his own. Very smart guy and unbelievably powerful! I’ve yet to see anybody best his Berserker skills in a duel and hey! Don’t look at me like I’m trying to get on your good side. Not all of us Renegara’s are arrogant jerks. Most of us are though, unfortunately,” Gamba said with a bemused smile. Gisbo returned his grin with a laugh.
“Well, thanks a lot! I just wasn’t sure. You guys seem to all have it out for us. I just don’t get some people. There was no reason for that. A guy tries to be nice for a change and look where it gets him,” Gisbo said as they neared the common grounds.
“ Neither do I, my friend, but Roarie’s right though; you gotta control that temper of yours. There was a reason why everybody feared the Flarian race. You lot can prove quite destructive when not in control of yourselves. Just a heads up,” Gamba said.
“So everyone keeps reminding me. So why is it, if you don’t mind me saying, that all you Renegaras are such buttholes?” Gisbo aked bluntly. Gamba actually laughed out loud before answering.
“You know what, pal, I like you. You just slap the cards right down as you see ‘em. We need more people like you, but yeah, I can’t deny your question. It’s scary to think that after this term's up we're all going to be Renegades. If you ask me, I think it's mainly being inside this sheltered bubble of ours. The Renegades are quite advanced philosophically, physically and technologically. Most of the Renegaras haven’t been to the outside world and have sort of adopted an air of superiority. They're told they are great, so they accept themselves as great. If you didn’t know, very few of the Renegaras were sent out at birth. It was an ancient Renegade tradition to send kids away. The decision was left to the class master alone and a lot of them chose not to send them away. Most of my group were born and raised right here in Heaven’s Shelter,” Gamba answered.
“Really? So this whole system is new?” Gisbo asked.
“No, ancient. Weren’t you listening? It was just recently brought back, but as to why, it’s a mystery, but I think that maybe it was because the elders started seeing a lot of the new generation's attitudes and they didn’t approve, so maybe they decided to start sending a lot more of them away to learn humbleness and broaden their views on life, like me. That boy Rake has lived in the bubble, raised here by his parents his whole life, I know that much. Now don’t get me wrong, it's only a theory of mine and there are plenty of good-natured Renegaras out there who were raised right here in Heaven�
��s Shelter too. I’m friends with most of them. I guess it all depends on the person,” Gamba said with a hint of hopefulness in his voice.
This was news to Gisbo, but it did indeed make sense. Those Renegaras had no idea how lucky they were to live their whole lives in such a great place as Heaven’s Shelter. If only they could spend a day in his shoes back at Oak County, maybe they’d be a little more thankful. Perhaps Falcon was right in sending him away, which raised a new question within his mind, a question he mentally slapped himself for not piecing together.
“Gamba, when we were sent away, it was by our class masters right? I mean, they had the final say on what happened right?” Gisbo asked.
“That’s correct. Where are you going with this?” Gamba asked.
“Well, why is it out of most of the people I have met their class masters are their fathers or mothers? Everybody keeps telling me how much alike I am to Falcon. Do you know if, well, do you know if he’s my . . . father? I mean, do I have a family here? You’d know! You’ve been here longer than I have!” Gisbo said with excitement at the thought.
“Yeah but not THAT much longer, pal. I know of Falcon, great guy from what I hear. Sorry, can’t help you there,” Gamba said aloud before turning back to a disappointed Gisbo. “Ah, don’t fret though. I’m sure if you asked, he’d tell you.”
“Do you know how awkward of a question that would be?” Gisbo asked.
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t fret. Just remember though that not all of the Renegas were born from Renegade parents. They have to be deemed worthy and many of them come from common birth, usually as orphans. Our Sybil foresaw their essential potential. Don’t mind the rhyme. Whoops, did it again!” Gamba said with a laugh. Gisbo's head sunk a bit more.
“Hey, don’t be discouraged now, I was one of those orphans, ya know. That was my lead in to bring it up. I don’t have the slightest clue who my parents are or, should I say, were. But I have a feeling if you’d ask Falcon, he would tell you the truth. That is, if you can gather up enough courage to ask him something like that,” Gamba said, leaving Gisbo’s thoughts racing, something he wasn’t at all used to.
“Yah. I’ve never really thought about who my parents were. Never really wanted to, until I arrived here that is, away from all those bastards from Oak County,” Gisbo said, as recollections of Thomson rose and overtook the thoughts of Rake in the front of his mind.
“No kiddin'! You’re from Oak County? So was I! Ain’t that something. Wait now, that was you? The kid who lived in the shack? Jeesh! Not everybody is named after a dog, seriously, why didn’t I put it together before? Good to see not all rumors are true. Parents I knew made you out to be the boogeyman. If only I knew better. Well, I didn’t even know myself I was a Renegade back then. I feel so terrible now,” Gamba said. Gisbo could tell the boy was sincere, so Gamba's pity didn’t bother him at all. It seemed as if his reputation had driven away all the worthwhile people and attracted all the good-for-nothings like Thomson.
“Don’t even worry about it. It’s not your fault. Not like I gave anybody a fair shot either. I didn’t exactly put out a welcome mat. I hated everybody to be perfectly honest, thought everyone was the same ‘til I met my buddy Rolce and then Grandfield and Shaved and, man,” Gisbo paused and found himself smiling. “I am just so thankful to be here now, everyone here is so great! It's only natural you get the occasional butthole like Ranto and Rake in the mix, keeps things interesting I guess,” Gisbo said, actually able to smile now.
Before they knew it, the boys arrived at their destination. Gisbo recognized it immediately. They were standing at the doorway to the large tower set behind the statue of Vadid. The top of the tower glowed with the same fierce blue it had displayed earlier, but now Gisbo noticed hints of translucent white and a lighter blue mixed throughout. Gisbo found it absolutely beautiful to look upon as it emanated raw energy. There was something definitely vast pulsating in there, but at the same time it felt comforting, as if it existed for protection of some sort.
“Hey, Gamba, what's up there?” Gisbo asked. Gamba looked skyward to admire the beautiful glow before shrugging his shoulders.
“Dunno. You will find that, as much as the Renegades are up front with you, they do have their secrets. I absolutely have no idea. People have hunches that it is a new power source they have been working on that can power anything, maybe this whole entire place, but that is just a rumor. Best I can give ya, unfortunately,” Gamba said as they walked through the large doorway that slid open for them in a yellow glow.
Gisbo and Gamba stepped inside as the doors slid shut behind them.
“Renegade Purah’s domain,” Gamba announced. The whole room flashed a variety of colors and, with a lurch, the room felt like it was rising. Then suddenly it lurched right, then left, before zooming upward once more at an incredible rate of speed. Gamba smiled at Gisbo’s surprise as the room stopped dead and the doors opened. Before them was a hallway with night black walls and a single white door at the end, glowing brightly in the surrounding blackness.
“Follow me,” Gamba said. Gisbo trailed behind him down the hallway and the doors of the moving room closed behind with another flash of yellow. As they made their way closer to the white door, Gisbo heard a rather heated conversation coming from behind it. Gamba looked at Gisbo and put up a finger for silence as they moved closer to the door.
“I’ll have my proof. Don’t even think you’ll be able to just sweep this under the rug and walk away…” said a calm, wise voice.
“Hah! Proof? I’d love to see it, Purah. I told you once before: don’t throw your attention where it doesn’t belong. Isn’t that the kind of advice you would give your beloved students? I would hate for anything more to happen to them, what with such a loss already this year,” said a shrill tone, as sharp as jagged glass.
“Tomorrow, Lokin. Upon Chieftain Narroway’s return, all will come together. The return seems to be indeed coming ever nearer and Narroway is putting aside his pride to try to warn his incompetent brother Karm of the danger. When our Chieftain returns, justice will be swift, Lokin. I swear it by all I am,” Purah said, not once losing his calm tone of voice.
“A pre-school teacher giving threats? Let tomorrow come, Purah. I’d love to see if these threats have backing. In parting, just know, my old friend, you aren’t the only one biding your time,” Lokin said. Gisbo could have sworn he was smiling with this final statement. They heard footsteps approaching the door. The two boys quickly backed away from it as Gamba raised his fist in the air, pretending he was just about to knock as the door swung open.
Standing before them was a man clad in Shininja attire. Crimson red bangs flowed over his headband like two exotic snakes and at the back flowed a tight ponytail. Lokin's grey eyes looked down upon Gamba and Gisbo for a moment before he rushed through them and down the hallway.
“Oh, hello there, Gamba. Roarie decided to send another my way, has she? Well, go on, bring him in so we can discuss the matter,” Purah said in an upbeat, friendly tone. Gisbo and Gamba entered Purah’s large room, adorned with finger-paintings from his many preschool admirers.
“Looks like your collection’s doubled since the last I’ve been here, Purah. The kids really do love you,” Gamba commented, gazing at the cute illustrations of various pictures of Purah with messy sayings like, “My favorite teacher!” and “My Hero!” The pictures of Purah were actually quite accurate to the real Purah seated at the large wooden desk.
Purah was dressed in Berserker attire and Gisbo could tell he was a tall man just by the way he sat, as if his legs didn’t have enough room under the desk. At first glance he would have thought the Renegade instructor to be in his mid thirties if it weren’t for the speckles of grey throughout his dark brown hair. His face was smooth with a pronounced, proud chin and rigid jaw which only added to his already handsome face. His eyes were a soft blue that gave off an air of utter humbleness and wisdom.
“Ah yes, may IAM bless those little tikes. If I could te
ach one class for the rest of my days, it would be finger painting with those kids. Innocence is such a precious thing. It really warms my heart just seeing them go about their carefree days. Keeps an old bugger like me young! But anyhow, what can I do for you boys?” Purah asked. Gamba went about explaining the whole situation to Purah, who kept looking in Gisbo’s direction, grinning with amusement.
“So that’s it then? Yeah, I prolly would have hit the guy too,” Purah said with a wink in Gisbo’s direction. Gisbo’s eyes lit up in shock.
“I’ll let you off this time, Gisbo, but please, for my sake, don’t put me through any more trouble. I don’t want my instructors feeling as if I’m getting soft in the discipline department; I’ll have to punish you next time just to maintain respect for my image. Can you refrain your fists a while for me, son?” Purah asked respectfully. How could Gisbo say no to that? He nodded with a smile.
“Good to hear. Falcon was no different when he was your age, you know. I always enjoyed his company; great bunch, Moordin and Foxblade, too. I must find some free time in my busy schedule to go fish with them by the streams like the old days. Do tell him I said hello, will you?” Purah winked.
“No problem, sir. I’ll do my best not to show up here again, that I can promise, but…” Gisbo spoke with utmost respect as he trailed off, thinking of whether to ask Purah if Falcon was his father. He decided against it though. He’d rather ask Falcon face to face.
“Is there something else?” Purah asked.
“No, nothing else,” Gisbo replied quickly.
“Good, long as you do your best, it's all I can ask for. Thank you, Gisbo. Oh, and please tell Roarie I put you through immense torture. I’m sure you will be able to think up some kind of a creative story,” Purah said. Gisbo laughed at this.
“Oh I think I can pull something out of my…well, you know! Thanks for the break, it won’t happen again,” Gisbo said as he and Gamba rose from their chairs to leave.
“Don’t mention it, and seriously…don’t mention it. Take care now! Oh, and do feel free to come see me for any questions you may have throughout your term. Work hard, Gisbo! Great to finally be acquainted, pleasant day to you!” Purah said with a friendly salute as he got back to work at his desk.
Gamba waited till he closed the door and was down the hall before discussing what they had both heard with Gisbo.
“That conversation didn’t sound right…” Gamba said vaguely.
“What do you mean? He let me go! That guy rules!” Gisbo said.
“Not that one, dummy. I mean the one we listened in on.” Gamba said.
“Oh, right.Well yeah! Of course it didn’t sound right. The guy was practically giving death threats to him!” Gisbo said.
“No, that’s not what I mean either. Lokin has been Purah’s closest friend and is one of the members of Purah’s own personal synergy. They always got along great and grew all the more close when their other member passed in a skirmish. Not once did I ever see them bicker. They are normally the friendliest of companions,” Gamba stated, deep in thought.
“Really? That Lokin guy seemed like a real jerk. How could such an awesome guy like Purah be friends with such a low-life like Lokin and who would go low enough to want to hurt a guy like that anyhow? He’s a pre-school teacher! I wish he were my teacher!” Gisbo said.
“Don’t worry, Purah’s your instructor for your third band, and I also wouldn’t worry about him, Gisbo. In my opinion, it is safe to say that Purah is easily one of the most powerful Renegades we have here, second probably only to Chief Narroway. He is more than capable of taking care of himself, I’m sure of it. Lokin, however, well, I’m sure you noticed the similarity to Rake. How ironic we show up right after you punched out his son,” Gamba said with a grin. Gisbo was shocked at this.
“Like father, like son, for sure! Man, no wonder I didn’t like that guy,” Gisbo asserted.
“Well, we better head back to Roarie and you best come up with a rather good story. We can waste some time by getting an early lunch before we go back, my treat, I work at the sushi hut in the commons. I’m sure I could convince my boss to give us some free eats. Wadaya say?” Gamba asked nicely.
“Raw fish? Seriously?” Gisbo asked.
“It’s free. Count your blessings,” Gamba replied.
“I think you got yourself a deal!” Gisbo said as both boys rode down the moving room and out of the tower, destined for a tasty lunch. Gisbo tried sushi for the first time dipped in an odd black sauce. Needless to say, it took only one bite to become Gisbo’s new favorite meal. At least he could have some variety now between steaks and burgers.
After finishing their lunches, they returned to Roarie and Gisbo quickly made up a story of how Purah made him clean out the main waste shoots of the tower and how the smell alone nearly killed him. Roarie was satisfied with his answer and by the time class ended, Grandfield was already complaining about his ring hurting. They made their way back to the commons as Gisbo joined Rolce, Shaved, Grandfield and Knob for a second lunch, attempting to share with them his new love for sushi.
“This stuff is terrible, tastes like burnt rubber…” Grandfield said through groans.
“Knowing you, you’ve probably been hungry enough to know what that tastes like,” Knob joked.
“Shut it! I’m going to back to Renegade Joe’s to get some steak. Excuse me,” Grandfield said as he left his seat in a hurry.
“Wow, I’ve never seen the kid move so fast,” Knob said, watching Grandfield practically sprint away.
“KNOB BRAWLDA!” The shrill voice of Kinny boomed across the grounds. Knob's face went white with fear. She arrived at their table with two other girls by her side.
“If I get one more stinkin’ rose in my mailbox from you and any more of your stupid poems, I swear to IAM I’ll use your rear as a place to store them all! I’ll make ‘em fit, just try me!” Kinny yelled. The boys, finding the whole situation hilarious, laughed hysterically at Knob's speechless red face. It was then Kinny noticed Gisbo sitting at the table. She smiled and put out her hand.
“I think we should be properly introduced, mister. The name's Kinny Kalloway. Awesome work back there. Kids like that are such a waste of life!” Kinny explained as Gisbo shook her small, yet strong hand with a nod of agreement.
“Hah,” Gisbo said.
“Oh, how rude of me, this right here is my friend Niffin,” Kinny said, motioning to a girl dressed in Shininja attire with dark hair tied into two cute pigtails on each side of her head. She had soft brown eyes and an air of shyness to her. She only nodded to Gisbo in greeting.
“I’m not usually such a loose cannon, but that little bastard had it coming and anybody who treats my synergy badly gets the same in return and this is my friend Kennis,” Kinny said, as Kennis extended her hand with a pretty smile. She was taller then her other synergy members with flowing blonde hair, a curvy figure and bright blue eyes, dressed in Nazarite attire.
The girls slid in beside the boys and they all ate their lunches together. Gisbo noticed that Rolce in particular was acting a little strangely. He seemed a bit, well, goofy as he joked around and did his best to come across as charming every time Kinny looked his way. Gisbo had never seen his friend act this way and he silently laughed to himself at the notion of a guy like Rolce with a girl like Kinny. Thera wasn’t meant to spin backwards, ya know.
After finishing lunch, the boys said their goodbyes to their new female friends and made their way to Ern an’ Dave’s Mach shop for their afternoon work. When they arrived, Ernie seemed to be in a particularly impatient mood. He ordered everyone present to help him needlessly relocate a giant sand pile two feet to the left of its original position.
“Sand, it's good stuff, ya know, good for many, many things, but ya see, all these falling leaves keep landing in the pile! I don’t blame them, the leaves just got nowhere else to go, but we can't have that! Come on now, keep those shovels moving…” Ernie said sternly.
“I don’t see h
ow two feet is going to make a diff... ” Rolce tried to argue until Ernie quickly interrupted him.
“What? Of course it will! You see those leaves just got nowhere to go; I’m giving them a place now. I know such things. I am not called Ernie Knowall for nothing, ya know!” Ernie said, as he moved about observing the process.
“Problem is, that just happened to be the name of his class master, it's not a nickname as he'd like you to assume. He also hasn’t touched this stupid pile in years according to my dad,” Shaved whispered.
The work continued that day by restoring the chimney on the side of the hut and Rolce accidentally broke a portion of the scaffolding. Gisbo quickly suggested hiding the broken piece in the sand pile, where it was never found again.
After raking up the leaves into a large pile, Ernie allowed them to take their leave early for the day. Gisbo and Rolce returned to their tree house for the night and boy did Gisbo have a few things to share with his synergy mate.
