Santa Helena: The Blessing of the Curse - Chapter 1


Santa Helena: the Blessing of the Curse

Chapter 1: the Beginning of the End



Somewhere on the island of Oahu, in the year 3768, I heard my mother complain to my father after she received the bills from the mail. Of course, when my mother complained, it may as well be called squawking. “We’ll never be rich! It’s our destiny to be below middle-class!” she cried. My father, a big, brawny man with a short, black beard, said no word. He simply rocked in his old, squeaky rocking chair, drinking the unsweetened coffee in his clay mug.

        Feeling a bit depressed, I rushed out of the door of our log cabin, which was made of some mysterious, black wood—maybe plastic! It was cloudy that day, yet the colorful tropical birds still chirped as they perched on nearby palm and pine trees. Treading on the deep green grass that stood about three feet high, I rested my chin on my tanned hand, rough and weary from all that packing and moving boxes into our “new” home.

I mused for about five minutes on how my family could survive here since the cost of living was so outrageous but came up with nothing. We had already sold most of the useless possessions that my mother had reluctantly agreed to part with. It wasn’t as if my parents’ paychecks were meager, either! Had we lived just about anywhere else, I don’t think we would have had that much trouble making ends meet…

Having finally come to terms with the fact that I had no ideas, I walked back into my cabin, which was plagued with antique furniture that my mother was planning to sell. My mother, about five feet tall and a bit wide at the waist, approached me as I entered.

 “Matt, your friend Satoko is coming to visit in a few days,” she told me.

“What?? We don’t have spare cash to take her anywhere!”

 “You do!”

“You haven’t given me money since I was ten!”

“But, that allowance can grow in the bank!” she retaliated. She meditated on that thought for a moment before her expression turned to a glare. “You haven’t pulled it out of the bank, have you?!”

“No, ma’am! Hell no, ma’am!” I pleaded reproachfully. “That money is growing like a tree planted by the rivers of water! And besides, that’s our emergency cash!!”

 “She deserves to have a good time here! You owe her that much at least.”

 “Satoko? Are you crazy?? I owe her nothing!” I exclaimed, quite hotly.

“What about those high grades she helped you obtain in college, huh? What about that time when she rescued you from that burning building? What about that time when she saved you from that bully in the biology lab—hmn, lil’ Matty!?”

I firmly stood my ground. “I could’ve handled him on my own, ya know! I could’ve burned his skin off with those chemical, but no! Satoko honey insisted on testing her kung fu and karate on that God-forsaken fellow! I hope he’s roasting with his mamma in HELL for all his atrocities!”

        “Is that so? Well, what about that $100 Starbucks gift card she gave you when you almost starved to death before class!?”

A tear rolled down my cheek, for I knew that I’d been beat. I put my hand on my heart and, after some sniffing, proclaimed, “I owe her my life! She’s been so good to me; therefore, by the grace of God—if He has anymore grace to give me—I shall return the favor!”

“That’s the spirit!” my mother said. She patted me on the back and, satisfied with her victory, returned to dusting the knick-knacks.

By the time that night crept up on me, I was completely worn out. I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. “What in the world will I do to keep Satoko occupied that whole time?”  I wondered. “She gets bored so easily, and it’s frustrating!”

My mind wandered to vague memories from school with Sakoto as I drifted to sleep. It wasn’t until I was deep in my sleep that I began to dream. I found myself walking on the water of a small lagoon. It was surrounded by palm trees on an evening illuminated by the full moon. Ordinarily, I would have taken time to admire the beauty of it all, but some force was pushing me forward.

It wasn’t until I reached the edge of the lagoon that, out of nowhere, appeared a grey-haired man in sky-blue armor and a red and gold cape. His chest-plate was filled with all kinds of precious stones while a faint, silver glow emanated from his being. It took a few moments, but the memories of his stoic face came drifting back to me. This man…he had given me direction several times in my dreams, and almost always when my heart needed direction most.

 “Lord Wyatt, what must I do to be saved?”

 “Saved? I thought you’re already a Christian?” he responded in his soft, humble tone.

“No, no, no! I mean saved—from my financial crisis!”

“Remember that story I told you—”

 “Not Halloween Island!”

 “Yes, Matthew. Halloween Island, where Governor Saint Helen Eleven and her settlers lived before they mysteriously went missing. It is said in the history books from UMUC that St. Helen hid her vast treasure somewhere on Mt. Helen, a mountain that I cannot locate on my GPS. But, I believe it still exists somewhere on that haunted island—”

“And, you want me to find the treasure and figure out what happened to the settlers,” I replied, knowing my gut what his answer would be.

“Correct! The reputation of UMUC is on the line!”

With a sigh, my dream world began to melt away. White light leaked across the starry sky as my eyes began to open. I awoke at noon the next blindingly sunny day. Running down the stairs, I exclaimed, “Mom, Dad, I know exactly where to take Satoko!”

 “Boy, not Halloween Island! It’s dangerous! Besides, that treasure is a myth. You might not make it back alive!”

 “I believe—no, I know that treasure exists on that island. I know I can do it! I just need to go there! And just think: if I die, I’ll make even more money in heaven, and I won’t be a burden to you!”

They were speechless for a moment and said, with an iota of excitement at the thought of seeing me gone, “Well, uh, if you think it’s worth it, take my shotgun with you!” With that, I ran to the dark attic to get my mother's blue, eight-barreled loaded shotgun, which I believed should give me an upper hand on the haunted island…

Soon afterwards, the door bell rang loudly. I ran down the stairs in a hurry to see who it was. It was Satoko—a light-skinned, black-haired young woman with phenomenal strength hidden in that slender, highly-toned frame! She was wearing light blue jeans and a red T-shirt under her black trench coat—I guess the air conditioner was on high in the taxi cab. Her smile seemed to say, “What’s up, negro!”

Among the heap of clothing and other “necessities” (nail cutter, polish, file, hair dryer, comb, brush, makeup—among other things) was her golden, crescent-shape katana. Solar Moon, as it was called, was about four feet long and was stuffed forcefully into her big blue bag. She had won it after winning first place in a fencing competition.

“Yes,” I thought to myself, “that might help us out on our journey…”

“So, what’s up, Matty Mack!?” she asked, giving me a high five.

“Nothing—uh, interesting,” I said, trying to hide the truth as much as possible. “I think I know a place that you’ll love.” As I spoke, I saw the faces of my parents looking down, almost fearfully. “Ever heard of Halloween Island?” She shook her head. “No? Well, since today’s Halloween, I thought I’d take you somewhere—uh, ‘special’!”

“Wow, do we get to fight ghosts and goblins and stuff!?!” she exclaimed passionately, and I could have sworn that I literally saw fire in her eyes.

“Yep, sister! And, we have to pay only for the boat ride! So, I think it’d be a good idea to take that katana with us—”

“Uh, are the ghosts holograms, or machines, or maybe folks in costumes?”

“Whatever it is, it’s legal! Don’t worry, nobody will sue us!”

Without any further hesitation, Satoko and I, in my brown jeans, yellow T-shirt, and blue shoes, made way to our old, rugged car porch that housed our beat-up, dark brown Cadillac Escalade 5000. Once turned on, this SUV hovers about one yard above the ground, since vehicles started to have no wheels in the thirty-first century. I overheard my father whispering to Satoko, “Satoko, if you survive, try to come back with our Cadillac!”

Satoko, thinking it was a joke, chuckled and insisted on driving the SUV. I gave her the keys, which I thought was going to be my last mistake! As we were driving on the four-lane highway, I made a discovery.

 “Hey, Satoko, this is America! We drive on the right side of the—whoa! Watch that truck!” She turned to the left-most lane, cursing the driver as if he was on the wrong side of the road. After some reckless driving, we arrived at the rocky parking lot next to the dock. There was only one low-class wooden yacht that had barnacles stuck on the bottom of the ship with only one life boat on it. A Polynesian woman was walking hastily to her beige Toyota, the only vehicle in this lot besides ours.

“Hello there, ma’am!” I said, approaching the woman. “We need a ride to Halloween—”

She halted, wide-eyed, “Hell no, bra! That island is no good!” She exclaimed, frenzied. “I went there and came back in the same minute! Bra, that place is haunted! They don't call it Halloween Island for nothing, yeah?”

I pulled out my expired military ID card—which said “OVERSEAS ONLY” and had only one side of my face since I wasn't ready for the picture!  I continued, with a manly, CIA tone, “Listen, ma’am, my partner and I are ordered by the Hawaiian government to investigate that island.”

 “Girl, you heard the man: if you don’t take us to that island, we’ll see you in federal prison!” Satoko added.

Not knowing what a military ID card was used for, she replied, “OK sista, you two make yourselves comfortable in the yacht. I’ll be there in a minute, yeah?”

The ship was barren—nothing except wooden floors and walls! There was a wooden counter and a man selling Spam musubi, a slice of Spam and rice wrapped in a seaweed called nori. Politely, I asked the man at the counter for two musubis, but he said, “$3.45 each!” Outraged, I signaled to Satoko to teach this guy a “lesson,” and she knew exactly what I was talking about. She put on her dark sunglasses that changed her appearance from a cute novice detective to a cold-blooded first-rate manslayer and uttered softly, “I want five Spam musubis—”

Before she could finish, the man responded, “Yes, ma’am; of course, ma’am! You can have as many as you like—free of charge…!”

Even though Halloween Island was only about five miles away from Oahu, it took us five hours to get there on that slow, wooden junk! In the meantime, Satoko took a short nap back against the wall while I leaned my head on her shoulder, listening to some fast-beat techno music on her mp3 player. The Polynesian captain called us to the deck when the ship was about one hundred yards from the black beach, showed us the life boat, and gave us two oars, saying, “I’m not getting any closer to that island; you CIA guys are good at paddling, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks” we responded and jumped onto the boat, paddling to the forsaken island around 6:00 pm. The sand, soil, and tree trunks on this island were pitch-black, and the leaves of the trees had a mysterious orange or purple shade. Even the “satanic” rainbow colored, pear-shaped fruits gave off a faint glow. Walking through the quiet, scentless scenery as the sun sank below the horizon, Satoko and I heard a “WHOOOOOO” sound nearby, scaring us to life!

Floating four feet above the dark soil was some kind of rounded marshmallow about four feet in diameter with blue eyes and a mouth which I thought greatly resembled a video game character I had once seen.

With a look of excitement, Satoko exclaimed, “Wow, it’s Kirby!”

 “Aaaagghhrr! It’s the devil!” I screamed, and stitched eight shotgun shells through his ghastly frame. The bullets went right through him, not harming the ghost at all! I leapt out of panic, and Satoko caught me in her arms. We started to run back to the dark beach, but we discovered that our life boat wasn’t there! Scrambling for our lives, we made our way to a cave that was seemingly carved out of some hill. I turned back, yet I couldn’t see the ghost!

Still, Satoko and I ventured into the cave which had florescent light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Even the stalactites and stalagmites had, of all things, Christmas lights on them!

“Satoko, is this some kind of cave?”

 “Hell no! What cave has Christmas lights like this?!”

In the narrow passage was a white map nailed to a jagged, rocky wall. Upon closer inspection, we discovered it didn’t pinpoint the location of Mt. Helen. We continued into the strange cavernous area. After a few minutes of walking, we found the huge open entrance to a large room. It had a light brown coffee table between the beige, leather sofa and a Sanyo flat-screen TV hung on a jagged wall. To our right was placed an extra large, black computer which had no buttons or switches but had the logo: “Dell: Complex science for simple living!”

Before we could scan the rest of the room, a brawny man in his pajamas and wizard-like sleeping cap popped out of another doorway, exclaiming, “Oh my God! H—h—how did you get in here? Err, I must have forgotten to turn on the energy shields again!”

Recognizing his face, I inquired, “Are you… Captain Arithmetic by chance? I watched his show only while I was taking algebra classes—”

 “Oh, great! Just GREAT!” he exclaimed frantically. “Now you know where my hideout is! Don’t tell this to the media, or I won’t have peace!”

“We aren’t journalists! We just want to know what you know about Mt. Helen—”

Wide-eyed, the captain raised his voice, “The mountain of Santa Helena!? The summit of vast treasure?  How do you know of it??”

“Let’s just say that I know a guy who knows a guy.”

Eying me with the utmost scrutiny, he continued speaking. “I searched for on my GPS and couldn’t find it; I even flew over this island ten times—in vain. We must find it, for my TV show hangs in the balance!”

 “Treasure?” Sakoto shouted. “Matthew, what the hell did you set me up for this time?! I thought this was an amusement park!”

I ignored her, saying to the captain, “By the way, do you know how to defeat ghosts?”

 “You’ll need to learn the bright side of the Force, or at least that’s what the young folks call it.  Its scientific name is Bright Arithmagics, the science of exorcism—”

“Wait a minute—that’s the stuff Lord Wyatt taught me, isn’t it? I thought it was nothing more than some weird yoga exercises!”

“It is, but it can also send ghosts and other monsters back to heaven, purgatory, or wherever the hell they're supposed to go! Lord Wyatt used to be my teacher as well, but I came here to do some research on the dark side of the Force, Dark Arithmagics, the science of evil!”

“And, uh, what did you find out?” Satoko asked.

“Only a hypothesis: the monsters on this island were not mutated by volcanic smoke, but were instead summoned or reincarnated by Grey Arithmagics.”

 “So, um, how do we activate our Arithmagics, then? If these guys are using Arithmagics to summon dead guys, we better have some kind of magic to protect ourselves, right?”

 “You must say the magic phrase to warm up for the Arithmagics at least three times a day: ‘1, 2, 3, life got better since I bought my Wii!’”

Satoko and I shot skeptical glances at each other. I couldn’t help but wonder what the doggone hell that was, but rather than question what I saw, I uttered, “But—but, I can't even afford a used one on Ebay!”

So, he asked, “Well, um, do you have a PS3, Xbox 360, or a PhD??”

“I have none of them!”

 “But, you need to rhyme with a number! It’s the only way!”

Thus, I made up my own: “7, 6, 5, 4, I have $5, but I want more!”

“No no no no no!” the captain exclaimed like a machine gun, “You must say it with enthusiasm!” Ergo, Satoko and I did, and all we got for it was heartburn! Again and again we chanted his ridiculous rhymes, and each time my stomach felt as if someone let a bucket of slugs fight to the death in my stomach! I could tell—even despite the fact that Sakoto was more talented than I—she was having no more luck than I was.

        “Keep at it, the both of you! Only through perseverance will you succeed!”

Finally, floating one yard off the ground, our eyes began to glow. That uneasiness in my stomach seemed to convert to energy and course through my veins and into my limbs.

“Whoa, sir, how do we control this?”

“With practice, young ones,” he replied simply. He approached each of us, and with only his index finger, pressed against our foreheads. One at a time he did this, and we fell to the ground. Slightly dizzy, I wobbled a bit as I rose to my feet.

 “Now, it’s time to warm up the Arithmagics! Try Hindu squats.”

So we did as we were instructed. I wasn’t sure what the hell the Hindus had to do with Arighmagics, but rather than debate a battle that I stood no chance of winning, I continued to do as he said.

 “Now, twenty-five push-ups…nineteen sit-ups…seven crunches…eighty-five lunges… Now, stretch out your hands and imagine the power of exorcism flowing from your veins to a target.”

Eagerly, we did as commanded and white streaks of lightning exploded from our fingertips. The lightning, for all its strength, went right through Captain Arithmetic as if he were nothing! I guess “White Force”—as the younger generation calls it—doesn't work on everything…

“Oh my God!” spoke Satoko, “I thought only God could do that!”

“There are many things only God can do,” the Captain said. “This is not one of them.”

After a little more training with Captain Arithmetic, I realized it was about time for Sakoto and I to leave.

 “Well, uh, we have to get going; thank you, mister—”

“My name is Beckham—Sir Allan Beckham, captain of the USS (United States Ship) Palin during World War VIII. Go forth and find your treasure! For, if you don't believe, you won't succeed!” I kept those words with me as Satoko and I rushed out of the cave.

By the time we reached the surface, night had descended on the island, and the invisible new moon didn’t help visibility one bit! We valiantly marched through the “satanic” woods, weapons in hand. We met some more “Kirbys” along the way, banishing them with our new skills. It was amazing how quickly the Arithmagics became so easy to use! I couldn’t help but grin as I took out each of the little monsters.

Suddenly, headed our way were female werewolves, werefoxes, and giant yellow-green blobs with big eyes that seemed to say “Hey, how’s it going?” We summoned white holy flares, but that didn't affect the non-ghosts! By the time we figured that out, a werefox soared five feet off the ground, thrusting me backwards by a dragon kick to my chin. I recovered quickly and rolled back onto my feet. Before I could get a good aim at the fox-woman, I had to parry more kicks and punches with my eight-barreled shotgun, swinging it like a third-rate kung fu spear expert! I seized the opportunity to give her a rifle-butt strike to her cheek and a low roundhouse kick to her right leg, followed by eight shotgun pallets to the abdomen.

I continued to blast away more nearby werewolves as Satoko chopped away some weak blob-monsters. As if that wasn’t enough, another group of fiends sprang out of nowhere, comprising ghosts, werefoxes, and skeletons with semi-automatic rifles! Satoko, swinging her Solar Moon left and right, swiped the enemy bullets as if she were playing tennis!

 In the middle of the fray, I heard Lord Wyatt’s voice in my head: “Channel Arithmagic energy into your shotgun!” Thus, I did as he instructed and launched a shining shotgun shell into the air. At the snap of my fingers, the shell burst into a radiant rain of divine judgment, banishing ghosts and non-ghosts alike.

I wasn’t able to reload my shotgun as more fiends rushed toward us! Obviously, Sakoto had been watching my fight as well, since she charged her katana with Arithmagics in the same way I charged my shotgun with it. Satoko slammed Solar Moon to the ground, emitting a blinding shockwave that cleared a portion of the dark meadow of ghosts. I threw more holy balls at the ghosts and bashed my way through more waves of werefoxes and skeletons.

“Satoko, run! We don't have time for this crap!” A swift werefox, diving to the ground, grabbed my foot in order to bring me to a halt. I thrust the butt of my shotgun into her forehead, knocking her back. I held her by the neck in front of me and used her as a shield to protect me from a ghost’s satanic toxic breath. Blowing ghosts out of our way, we encountered an eerie, purple mist. Sakoto, always having been one to act before thinking, charged headfirst into the fog. She grabbed my hand and pulled me in as well!

Once we crossed the violet fog, the scenery changed considerably. The soil was still black, but the trees were all dead! The smell of pumpkins hung in the air as we saw pumpkins with eyes and mouths, hopping toward us with a funny “Heeheeheehee!” Since they were so slow, I didn’t waste my bullets on them…

“This place just gets weirder and weirder!” Sakoto declared. After the words left her lips, she stopped suddenly and without warning. I slammed into her back by accident, and jumped back to avoid her fist in my chest.

“What was that all about? Why’d you stop?”

“Look!” Sakoto pointed to a dense forest up ahead. The entire forest was covered in a mysterious shadow.

“Okay, it’s a creepy forest. What’s your point, sista? In case you forgot, there are still those pumpkin things behind us!”

“Do you even know where the hell we’re going? That forest looks just like the kinda place we’d get lost!”

“No, but we don’t really have a choice! Let’s go, Toko!”

With Sakoto in the lead again, we entered the forest. We both kept our eyes peeled for any sort of movement from within the mass of black trees, but the only sounds made were those of our breathing and the pumpkins who didn’t dare to enter the ominous woods.

Deeper in the shadowy forest we came across a headless black figure, encased in black armor, with a big dark shield and a five-foot-long rifle. He rode on a dark horse that exhaled smoke from its nostrils. A large pumpkin hopped on his shoulders to be his head before the large stallion advanced toward us! Like a marathon runner, Satoko charged and then slid on the ground so she could slice off the legs of the stallion with her spell-charged blade. I shot the pumpkin off the horseman’s shoulders. Without a brain, the horseman proved to no longer be a threat, and he simply fell over on the ground.

Walking up a steep slope, we came across the same purple mist again! This time, behind the mist was a chilling scenery of a mountain top. The snow mysteriously had a grey tint to it, and the harsh frigid air blew Satoko’s hair like a blow dryer. With no time to adjust to the surroundings, we clung to the side of mountain desperately.

“These random portal things are really starting to get on my nerves!” Sakoto exclaimed.

“Yeah, but don’t you know where we are, Sakoto? This has to be Mt. Helen!”

I took charge and began to climb the mountain. I think Sakoto must have been surprised by being beaten to the punch, so to speak. Nevertheless, she followed behind me as we scaled the mountain; we climbed as quickly as we safely could manage.

Before we could get to the top, I was halted at the sight of a red and gold treasure chest! My excitement caused my heart to beat incredibly fast, which kept me warm.

 “Satoko! Hahahaha! This is what we’ve been waiting for! What the—” I exclaimed, and would have spewed out a vile four-letter word, had Lord Wyatt’s voice rung clearly in my mind: “Don’t curse, or you might get cursed!”

Popping out of nowhere appeared some spirit, hovering two feet off the snow. Dressed in a grey witch outfit, the spirit looked like—Hanna Montana?—without blood, sleep, or bliss!

I: “So, you must be Saint Helen or Santa Helena or whatever those Latinos back there call you!”

Helen: “And you must want my money or my treasure or whatever the hell those Latinos like to steal!”

 I: “You’re a spirit! Why do you need money?!”

 Helen: “Hey, the afterlife isn’t cheap, y’know! When you see Hades, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Well, uh, what happened to the settlers here, and how did you become governor!?” I asked, eager to change the subject. It caused her to throw up her hands; obviously I had either touched a nerve, or overwhelmed her seemingly tiny mind.

“I can’t sing well, okay! I always wanted to sing like Hannah Montana, but don’t get me started on that witch! The settlers started moving to Montana to attend Hannah’s concerts. So, I banned them from moving away from this island, but then, they started using the internet and TV to hear that witch’s ‘chants’! I forced my father to tax them to death with my Dark Arithmagics. He didn’t listen to me; so—uh……I became governor and taxed them myself!”

Satoko exclaimed, “Oh my God! She’s worst than the spirits of Hitler and Stalin combined!”

“Girl, if you want to imitate someone, you ought to imitate Hilary Duff! Hilary beats Hannah any day, right, Satoko!?” I added.

“Hell no! Hannah’s perfect! You must be dipping ‘duff’!”

“Whatever… Miss Eleven, we need to borrow this money—”

Suddenly, she put her demonic paws on the treasure chest and exclaimed, “NOOOO! Mortals always buy things on credit; they never pay off their debts! That’s why their descendants have to pay them off!” She afterwards exploded dark lightning at me, which I blocked swiftly with my faithful shotgun.

Dark flames exploded from Helen’s feet, allowing her to flying through the evening air, raining down black bolts of satanic justice and giving us a sudden scare. Satoko and I mustered some Bright Arithmagic moves, but Helen was not hurt by them. Exceedingly frightened, I almost panicked. That is, until I heard Wyatt’s voice in our heads:

“Bright Arithmagics are weakened through fear! You must believe that you can defeat her! Faith powers up White Force! Just treat her like the rest of the ghosts you fought; she’s no different!”

By faith, Satoko struck her down with a spell-charged air wave from her katana swing. Charging my shoes with Arithmagics and spinning diagonally in mid-air, I delivered a dozen spin-kicks, a magic-charged pallet, and some holy voltage, followed by Satoko’s nine kicks and twelve spell-slashes! The dark saint, breathing heavily, slammed her palms to the snow, mustering eerie geysers, which gave us some bruises—since we almost barely evaded them. Among other chain-attacks, she launched dark fire like a crazed woman who wasted her money on drugs and gambling. After our lightning and fire clashed for the next twenty minutes, Helen finally disappeared with a shriek, leaving the money behind!

As soon as I picked up the chest, the peak of the mountain exploded into a fountain of lava. The force of the explosion rumbled the mountain and caused us to tumble dangerously down the side of the mountain.

“Grab onto something to stop!” Sakoto called to me. I reached out my arm as I rolled, but everything I tried to reach for flew past me before I could grab it. Rocks and branches beneath me cut and bruised my already-exhausted body as I tumbled out of control down the mountain. Desperately I clawed at every rock until I slammed hard into Sakoto. I latched onto her body as she clenched a large boulder that had been lodged into the side of the mountain.

“Thanks, sista.” I said breathlessly.

“I didn’t mean to save you…you just got lucky!”

With our fall under control, it was much easier to climb down the mountainside. In fact, it was surprisingly very similar to those rock climbing walls they have at the malls. At the bottom of the mountain, we were back to the forest where we came. Scratched by thorns and other objects as we darted through the satanic forests, we ran alongside the monsters that now thought of us—and Sir Allan Beckham—as fellow escapees. We dashed towards the beach, where that wooden yacht was waiting about a hundred yards away!

“Oh, look! It’s them!” shouted the Polynesian captain to her friend, “I thought they went to hell! Maybe we should be CIA agents!”

 “Hey, don’t leave without us! I don’t want to get scorched back here!” the monsters cried. As much as it pained me, I had to side with Sakoto and leave the monsters on the island.

Since I wasn’t a good swimmer, Satoko put me on her back and darted through the molecules of water like a swordfish while I kept a tight grip on her and the money. She didn’t seem to struggle at all, and in no time we were right alongside the boat. The captain helped Sakoto and I aboard, but not before making fun of me for not being able to swim by myself…

The boat ride home was rather uneventful. Exhausted from the trip, Sakoto and I fell asleep against the same wall we used on the way to the island. My entire body ached and burned from the strain and the abuse I had put it through, so the ride home was a much needed break.

As soon as Satoko and I arrived at my house in a new, dark-green Chevrolet Suburban 3028 the next morning, my parents were more shocked than excited to see us. They stood at the front door and simply waved at us as we exited the car.

Sakoto turned to me, saying sweetly, “I LOVE Hawaii!”

 “I do now!” I laughed as we both shut the car doors, leaving it, and the Mount Saint Helen adventure, behind us…until we [Satoko and I] thought it was a good idea to take a vacation in Paris, France for a few days…The vacation ended up being longer than we expected…!


on 11/23/2009 7:13:37 AM
What an imagination!! Say hello to my people, will you? please

Novel / Novella
writing Highsmyth
"The mountain only seems so high from the valley; if you're at the end of your rope, tie a knot on it and hang on!" --John Hagee.

Action-adventure writers of the world, UNITE!
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Rating: 10.0/10

In this story, money can grow on trees! Matty Mack and Satoko crash through Halloween Island to battle Santa Helena for some "sacred treasure"! Please enjoy, loves--meow!
A Word from the Writer
If you like funny acrobatic martial arts imbued with a touch of funky magic and a funny/unique plot in a futuristic world, this is your story, loves!