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Chapter 2


· The Time Travel

I went back to my house and changed. I grabbed my coat and notebook and booked a taxi and rushed off. I was quite impatient in the taxi. I kept looking at my watch and tapping my foot. The taxi driver grunted in annoyance. Man! Clay is so going to kill me. Once I reached there, I just gave him my fifty dollar note and rushed off. I could have sworn I saw him smile at my mistake. I went inside the mall and went straight to our usual hang out place, a small restaurant that specializes in making coffee and sells small cakes. I scanned the restaurant and saw Clayton at the corner of the restaurant. I walked over and shouted his name.


I sat down beside him. I asked him what he found. He asked me to do my own research rudely. Oh no! I forgot my laptop! I told Clayton that I forgot to bring my laptop sheepishly. He sighed. I saw he was annoyed and I tried to apologize. He refused to make eye contact. He was sulking. I begged him to explain with the sweetest voice I could muster. When he was satisfied with my begging, he smiled and started to explain. He said that Turner Towers belonged to an introverted scientist named Nik Turner. No one knew what he did in there but there were sometimes burst of light during the night. One day, his tower burnt down for unknown reasons and Nik Turner was never heard off again as he showed me a picture of Nik Turner from his laptop. I nodded signaling I understood. He also said he bought aeroplane tickets to United Kingdom, Shoreham so that we could go to Turner Towers ourselves. I was shocked. I thanked him profusely and hugged him tightly.

“I so owe you one,” I said

“Okay, you can pay the bill,” he said cheerfully.

I looked at the table with three cups of coffee. I sighed and went to the counter to pay. Thirty-three dollars? Why is it so expensive? After I paid the bill, I went over to Clayton. Clayton kept walking on and I just followed him. He asked me how was Snowy. I told him she was fine. I said to him that Snowy was still fat as usual. He laughed softly. He then asked me how was my mom, if she was still well.

“My mom’s doing well. How about your mo…” I stopped.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it,” I apologized.

I forgot that Clayton’s parents had passed away when he was born. He put his hand on my shoulder and smiled. He said that he accepted my apology. He opened a door in front of him and a gust of hot air touched my face. We were in the car park. He offered me a drive home. I nodded and he led me to his car. Clayton and I got in and he turned on the radio. It was playing our favorite song. I was quite tempted to sing but I was afraid I’d make Clayton deaf with my ‘amazing’ voice. Clayton asked me if I was going to sing like a madwoman to this song. I smiled broadly.

“You read my mind,” I said happily.

I started to sing it over and over again the whole way home and Clayton joined in eventually. When I finally got home, I was greeted by Snowy. I walked to my room to change. After that, I flopped onto my couch and turned on the television. I just scrolled through the channels to see if there is anything nice to watch. Kring! Kring! Kring! Kring! My phone vibrated. I picked it up. It was from Clayton. What does he want now?

“Didn’t we just meet?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to remind you that tomorrow we’re flying to the UK in the morning. And knowing Mrs. Forgetful for almost five years, I bet that you would be late.,”

I scoffed. I hung up and continued watching television. Grrrrrr! My stomach grumbled. I felt hungry so I made myself some instant noodles. I brought my noodles to my room and started to pack my bags. Once I finished packing, I went to bed to pass the time because I was excited to go to the UK. Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring! I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock. Hmm? Why do I feel like I’m late for something? I looked at the time it was eight. I looked over to my packed bag and it hit me hard. My plane departs at eight-thirty. God, Clay is right. I can still make it. I booked a taxi and got changed. I wore my red and white jacket and a cap. I rushed downstairs and boarded the taxi. I paid him in a hurry and ran to my terminal, hitting a few people and spotted Clayton. It was easy to spot him as he wore the same thing every day. His signature mock neck shirt and his leather ivy flat cap. He is a strong, thin man with jet black hair which is neatly combed.

“What took you so long Lonnie?” he asked.

I was right, wasn’t I?” he said with a smile.

“Whatever!” I rolled my eyes while chuckling at his pride for guessing my late arrival.

When we boarded the plane and Clayton let me have the seat nearest to the window. I took out my book and started reading. Clayton on the other hand took out his notebook and scribbled something on it. It was an eighteen-hour flight to the UK. The pilot announced that the plane is airborne and we can move around the plane freely. After reading for about two hours, my eyelids were getting heavy and the cold breeze from the air-conditioning made it impossible not to sleep. Clayton realized that I was getting sleepy so he gave me a neck pillow. I thanked him sleepily and yawned. By the time I knew it, I dozed off. I was rudely awakened by a crying baby at three in the morning. Somehow, most passengers seem not bothered by the wailing of the baby. I got out of my seat and shushed the baby angrily. He looked at me in fear and he quietened down obediently.

“We will be landing shortly in Brighton City Airport. If awake, please wake your friends, family up. Our stewards and stewardess will wake you up,” the pilot said.

I woke Clayton up. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes sleepily. He drowsily went to the toilet to wash his face. Some passengers woke up to the announcement. Clayton said that he already booked an apartment. Once we alighted from the plane, we were attracted by the smell of KFC’s fried chicken. We were the first one in the queue. We were sick of the food on the plane. It was so bland. Clayton booked a taxi while I bought the KFC so we can eat at our apartment. Our taxi arrived shortly.

“Hurry up Lonnie!” Clayton snapped.

I carried two bags of chicken while running to Clayton. The driver kept fumbling around his seat. He had a cute smile too. Kind of like a hamster. He introduced himself as Sam. He greeted us politely. I told the taxi driver our destination and he stepped on the gas. We were so aghast by the speed the taxi is going, Clayton and I strapped in our seatbelts. The taxi came to a sudden stop. My body flung towards the seat in front of me. My face hit the front seat hard.

“Owwww!” I whined.

“We’re here!” the driver said cheerfully.

Clayton and I wobbled out of the car dizzily. I heaved a sigh of relief as the ride was finally over. I looked at our apartment in confusion. The wall looks dirty and the paint is wearing off. The area around the apartment was killing my nose with it’ s stench as beside it was a dump. I asked Clayton if this is the right place. He nodded. I just hoped the inside was better than the outside. We stepped into the apartment. We were greeted by a gust of cold air that swept across my face. We asked for our keys at the counter. Our room was on level 3. My room was number 455 while Clayton was 456. My room had an air purifier to block the smell of the dump. It was a small room with a small kitchen in the corner. I took out my phone to text Clayton. I wanted to go to Turner Towers now because I couldn’t wait to start filming so I asked him if we could go to Turner Towers straight away.

I went to take a shower to wait for his reply. After a rejuvenating shower, I checked my phone and he agreed. He said to meet him in ten minutes in the lobby. I changed into a red shirt and green jacket which I zipped all the way up. I took my small bag and packed a microphone, some snacks, a notebook, and a portable camera. I put on my hood and went downstairs and saw Clayton waiting for me. He wore his mock neck shirt with a long, brown parka which reached is legs. I threw him some biscuits and we headed off. We had learned our lesson- never take the taxi! We took the subway instead. I wonder how Turner Towers looked like. When we stepped into the carriage it was humid and crowded. It smelt of sweat and the air-conditioner could not be felt. Clayton and I were sandwiched between two muscular men. They were sweaty and tall, totally squishing me and Clayton. We managed to slip out of the train, literally. We were all wet and hot.

“I’m going to need another shower,” Clayton complained.

“You and me both,” I replied, giggling.

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