Cleopatra

This is a story about a boy named Noah, who helped save the space-time continuum and restore order to the fabric of time. It all begins on a Saturday, a wet and windy Saturday, in October to be exact. No-one can quite remember the time, but it was definitely the afternoon, the big tree in the back garden was casting a dark shadow on the lawn. It always did that when the sun moved into the right position. Noah was eleven years old. That awkward age when toys are too childish but the thought of not having them scares you. Eleven was also the age when you went to secondary school, which was a terrifying thought to Noah. He often tried to forget this was happening, which was quite easy to do really, as the six-week summer holidays had just began, and the thought of school was so far away it might as well never come. Noah didn't hate school, he didn't get bullied nor was he a bad student, it was just the thought of moving into the unknown which made him nervous. Noah didn't like change much. He didn't even like the fact that he was growing at an alarming rate every summer. He had grown so much in the last year, he had to get three new sizes trousers for school. He was tall for his age. He had very messy blond hair too, which was impossible to tame ( much to the dismay of his mother), and his eyes were sky blue, with greenish tinge. His mother called him handsome, which was news to Noah, as he felt his face was far too round to be 'normal' and his arms were very gangly, like an orang-utan. Noah felt his body parts were all growing at different rates. This made the thaought of high school even more unnerving, going to class in September looking like a pantomime version of Frankenstein s monster. Noah normally loved Saturdays, but the fact it wasn't special this week took the edge of it. He had been off all week, and even though it was the first week of the holidays, he was officially bored. His best friend Alfie had been whisked away on a family holiday within 48 hours of school finishing and he'd played his X-BOX so much his hands hurt. After much moping and very dramatic sighs, Noah decided to get his 'big box of stuff' down from the attic. The 'big box of stuff' was exactly what you'd expect really, a very large brown cardboard box, filled with all of Noah's old toys, books and odds and ends. It was only removed from the attic in absolute emergencies, and today was an emergency. He was very bored after all. Noah poked at the attic hatch with the wrong end of a broom. There was normally a stick designed for this very motion, but he'd snapped it accidentally, while jousting with Alfie last year. The loft-ladder slowly lowered itself and came to halt on the carpeted floor. Noah always loved it when it did that. He always imagined it was the automatic stairs on a NASA space shuttle that's just landed on the moon. Unfortunately for Noah, it was just the dusty loft-ladders. Noah climbed up the ladder, step by step, slowly and carefully. It wasn't high at all really, it's just he had bad memories of falling off these ladders when he was younger. It wasn't a bad fall. A bump on the head and a grazed knee was the extent of it, but now, Noah was always careful when climbing, he wasn't stupid after all. As he reached the top, he grabbed at the pulley light switch and give it a sharp tug. The attic was illuminated with a deep yellow glow. The bulb needed changing he thought. That would've been Dad's job, before he moved out. The attic looked as creepy as usual, boxes overfilled, old christmas decorations, worn furniture and a large coat stand, crooked and bare. The deep glow from the overhead light was casting menacing shadows onto the walls, and as the wind came through the cracks of the roof, the light swayed to and fro, causing the shadows to dance around the room. This wasn't a place to hang about, Noah thought. He always tried to think rationally, but every now and again a wave of fear would come over him, and he couldn't control it. Noah spotted the 'big box of stuff' and heaved it to the exit as fast as he could. He placed the box firmly under his arm, steadied himself, and began to decsend the ladder to the landing below. 'This better be worth it' Noah said, slightly out of breath. His mother must've of heard his heavy feet as they shuffled around the attic, and came running up the stairs. 'What on earth are you up to'' she said, with a bemused tone in her voice. 'I'm bored, I've got my big box down and I'm going to find something to do' Noah replied. Noah put the box on the floor, it was covered in dust and it was getting everywhere. Noah tried to hide the evidence with his foot, but his eagle eyed mother was quick on the uptake. 'That's fine' She said. ' Right after you've hoovered the floor' 'Yes mummy' Noah said sarcastically. He hated hoovering. He could never get into the cracks and the cable always seemed to get in the way, no matter which way he pointed the hoover. Noah watched his mother go back downstairs, she seemingly ignored his sarcasm, he was glad, the last thing he needed was an argument to make his Saturday even better. He awkwardly picked up his box, it was heavy, and made his way to his bedroom. He pushed the door open with his foot, and plonked the box down on his bed, spilling the top items of the box onto the bed. He thought about going straight back and doing his hoovering duties, but turned back to his 'big box of things' and turned it upside down, spilling out it's contents. He knew exactly what was in the box, but he always convinced himself something new would turn up one day, and that it would be the coolest thing ever. Today, however, was just like any other day, and the bed was littered with old toys and board games he no longer played with anymore. Noah took a step back and looked upon the mess he had created on his bed. His eyes darted from jigsaws to boardgames, from a portable kareoke machine and across to the broken Nerf gun he got when he was eight. Nothing he could possibly have any fun with today. He couldn't even use the walkie-talkies that were at the bottom of the heap, he had nobody to talk to. Noah scooped up his stuff, and with two armfuls, threw everything back into the box. What a waste of time, he thought. As Noah turned to the hallway to complete his hoovering duties, he heard a crackle. The sound stopped as quickly as it came, so Noah didn't even have to time to turn around when it happened again *CRACKLE* Noah pivoted sharply. The sound was coming from the box. He must of knocked the Kareoke machine on. The spring in the 'on' button was broken, so the slightest touches normally made the thing spring to live from time to time. Time to take the batteries out he thought. Once it had gone off in the attic and woke up the whole house. Noah thought the house was getting broken into and woke up his mother, who then went on to ring the police. She promised that she'd permantly remove the batteries that night, so she'd be even more angry to hear that Noah had put brand new batteries in it three weeks later. As Noah approached the box, he heard the crackle again, this time it was longer and similar to radio static. He reached into the box and grabbed the kareoke, flipped it over and prepared to take the batteries out. There were no batteries in the kareoke. His mother must've taken them out when she was putting Dad's stuff in storage last week, Noah thought. '..buzzzzzzzzzscreeeeeeeeeec...ello'....' There was another crackle, and it was coming from the very bottom of the box. Noah was sure he heard a voice in the distorted muffle, but dismissed it as boredom driving him crazy. Noah tipped the box up onto his bed again, looking for the source of the disturbance. The contents of the box, once again, were scattered all over his bed. He listened again, cocking his head to the left, as if that somehow would help him hear the sound more clearly. '...buzzzzzzzzz, crrrrraa.....hello'....nybod...there'....' Noah heard the crackle and buzz again, and this time he definitley heard voices. There was a constant static-hum, and this time Noah located the annoyance. It was a walkie-talkie. Noah felt stupid now, it couldn't really of been anything else he thought, but he also felt reassured that he was not going crazy. Noah picked up the battered handset. It was still emitting the annoying hum as before, but the voices seemed to have stopped. It was probably just picking up the frequency from a passing police car, Noah thought. He was actually surprised it had batteries in, and as he was about to forcefully throw it back into the box, the walkie-talkie sprang to life, and this time Noah had no problems recognising the voice coming loud and clear from the tiny transmitter.