Alfie Chandra frowned and looked down at the skateboard. However hard he tried, it always seemed to career to the left. He had tried tilting to the right in attempt to counterbalance it, but that only made him lose his balance. Perhaps one of its wheels was smaller than the others. Or maybe he had a leg that was shorter than the other. Did he? He reckoned that he had just gotten used to it and now gravity was catching up on him. Strangely, it was an idea that was easier for him to accept than the other, more plausible reason.
“Are you okay, my darling? It’s just you’ve been staring at your legs for a while.” Gita appeared from the front door and plopped herself down on the curb next to him.
“Do I have a peg leg?” Alfie mused.
“I often ask myself the same question.”
“One’s shorter than the other.”
“I don’t think you mean peg leg, dear,” Gita noted, but Alfie continued, unfazed.
“I keep crashing - I nearly crashed into Zoe, Beth and Dan today.”
“Oh, they’re a nice bunch.”
“Zoe’s a bit...weird.” Even as he said it, Gita couldn’t help but notice the slight breathlessness in his tone. It wasn’t quite exasperation, but he hadn’t known Zoe long enough for it to manifest into something deeper. Yet.
She smiled, but decided not to pursue her observation. “I suppose, but they are nice.”
“Yeah, nice,” he frowned again, “They keep rushing off. Ain’t got enough time to talk to me anymore.”
“Rushing off?” Gita leaned forward.
“Yeah, with that Sarah Jane woman.” Alfie paused, his brows furrowed with frustration half-pertaining to his inability to skate well and the other half to his inability to understand why three teenagers not much older than him spent so much time around a woman probably three times their age with no familial ties. It was strange.
“Are you okay, my darling? It’s just you’ve been staring at your legs for a while.” Gita appeared from the front door and plopped herself down on the curb next to him.
“Do I have a peg leg?” Alfie mused.
“I often ask myself the same question.”
“One’s shorter than the other.”
“I don’t think you mean peg leg, dear,” Gita noted, but Alfie continued, unfazed.
“I keep crashing - I nearly crashed into Zoe, Beth and Dan today.”
“Oh, they’re a nice bunch.”
“Zoe’s a bit...weird.” Even as he said it, Gita couldn’t help but notice the slight breathlessness in his tone. It wasn’t quite exasperation, but he hadn’t known Zoe long enough for it to manifest into something deeper. Yet.
She smiled, but decided not to pursue her observation. “I suppose, but they are nice.”
“Yeah, nice,” he frowned again, “They keep rushing off. Ain’t got enough time to talk to me anymore.”
“Rushing off?” Gita leaned forward.
“Yeah, with that Sarah Jane woman.” Alfie paused, his brows furrowed with frustration half-pertaining to his inability to skate well and the other half to his inability to understand why three teenagers not much older than him spent so much time around a woman probably three times their age with no familial ties. It was strange.
“You’re late,” Gita reprimanded, but not unkindly.
"Yeah, I was with Zoe, Beth and Dan. At the rope swing.”
“Anyone else?”
“Er- Felix - he got lost. We had to show him the way back.”
“Is he the new boy?”
“Yeah. He’s fruity. Dan likes him. Maybe a little too much.”
Gita did not spare the time to consider this statement. It was eleven-thirty and she was late to her lunch/meeting with a potential supplier. It was exciting times and Bloomin’ Lovely was going up in the world.
“Right, I want you to pot these and then go through this and see if you can locate any petunias. If not we’ll have to get some specially ordered. Mrs Hatran has backordered the shop’s supply - typical.” Gita continued but Alfie’s attention was long gone. Instead his mind crept back to the three teenagers and their strange affiliation with Sarah Jane Smith.
"Yeah, I was with Zoe, Beth and Dan. At the rope swing.”
“Anyone else?”
“Er- Felix - he got lost. We had to show him the way back.”
“Is he the new boy?”
“Yeah. He’s fruity. Dan likes him. Maybe a little too much.”
Gita did not spare the time to consider this statement. It was eleven-thirty and she was late to her lunch/meeting with a potential supplier. It was exciting times and Bloomin’ Lovely was going up in the world.
“Right, I want you to pot these and then go through this and see if you can locate any petunias. If not we’ll have to get some specially ordered. Mrs Hatran has backordered the shop’s supply - typical.” Gita continued but Alfie’s attention was long gone. Instead his mind crept back to the three teenagers and their strange affiliation with Sarah Jane Smith.
Alfie trudged up the path aimlessly, not really having a destination in mind. He was bored. Zoe was off gallivanting with Beth, and Dan was hanging out with Felix, doing whatever it was not-quite boyfriends did. He could’ve joined them, but he didn’t feel like being exposed to their painfully awkward fruitiness.
He turned the corner and found himself on a dirt path. He followed it, and realised he was approaching Suncrest Hill ‒ the place he had met Zoe. He stopped when he reached the top, and looked out at the village, basking in the autumn twilight. It was beautiful, he thought to himself. Strange. Alfie typically didn’t find things beautiful, but there was something about Foxgrove that just...drew him in. There was a sense of familiarity that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, like deja vu. He narrowed his eyes, not to scrutinise, but to contemplate.
Alfie was prone to dreams, he always had been. Curled up in his bed back at the care home, he would twist and turn to try and ward them off, but they always stayed, always lingering like a stain in the carpet.
“What’s it mean?” he ruminated aloud. “What’s any of it mean? Tell me, cos I ain’t got a clue.”
He was surprised when a bird chirruped in response. Alfie looked down on his left shoulder, and recoiled when a parrot stared back with beady eyes. He tripped over his own feet and ungracefully landed on his back. The parrot had flown off his shoulder as soon as he started his descent, and Alfie watched in slight reverence as the parrot landed on the hand of a man, who smiled enigmatically at him.
“I trust the Captain didn’t startle you too badly, young sir,” the man said smoothly. There was a posh air around him, the kind Alfie couldn’t stand. They were typically associated with people who thought they were all high and mighty, but this man...he was strange. He was dressed in regal robes, and a matching cap was adorned atop his head. Alfie wondered if he was wearing shoes under his robes as he picked himself up and brushed himself off.
“Nah, I’m fine,” he murmured. The man simply smiled at him, as if he was expecting that response.
“Is anyone truly fine?”
Alfie was taken aback by the question, and his mouth flapped open and closed. The man was a nutter. “Er…”
“Is fine an illusion? Or will it be an illusion? Perhaps the answer I pose lies in the realm of dreams. The realm...of recurring nightmares.”
Alfie’s mouth closed, and he glared at the man. He knew. “Don’t know what you mean, mate.”
“I think you do, young orphan.” The man strode towards him and held up a placating hand. “May I see?”
Alfie bristled. “See what? Get lost.”
The man ignored him, and gently picked up the dog tags wrapped around his neck. He looked thoughtful, a look Alfie reckoned he had a lot of the time. He stubbornly stood his ground, not wanting to show the man how uncomfortable he felt.
“It’s quite remarkable,” he mused, running a finger over the initials etched onto the back. “How engravings, and even objects, can retain such memories. Will retain such memories. Memories.” He chuckled, and looked up at him. “I need you to do something for me, Alfie Chandra.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I am the servant of time, Alfie,” the man clapped his arms in glee. “I know what needs to be known."
Alfie jumped when the parrot squawked in agreement. "What do you want from me?”
“Your help,” he replied without missing a beat. His tone was calm, but there was the faintest trace of urgency. “Something’s coming, Alfie, and you need to be there.”
“Where?”
“Where you need to be.”
“That don’t answer nothing!”
“Perhaps not now, but time will reveal all,” the man replied. “And time needs you. Something is on the horizon, in the future. It is as clear as the sun and moon. One day, you will be needed. For that, you must be prepared. It is imperative.”
Alfie gulped. For some bizarre reason, he believed the strange man. “How?”
The man took a step back. “You already are.”
He blinked. “Huh?”
“The answer will come to you, young sir,” he assured. “Until then, keep an eye on your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” He tilted his head. “You mean Zoe? She’s not ‒”
“Find her, Alfie. Find her, find her friends, and find Sarah Jane, before they are truly lost.”
“What does that mean?”
The man simply tapped his foot, and with an accompanying squawk, disappeared in a flash of light. Alfie rushed towards the spot where the man had stood, and looked around frantically.
“What do you mean? Tell me!”
He didn’t receive an answer, and the man with the parrot didn’t come back. Alfie waited on the hill for several minutes, and then he returned home and flopped onto the sofa. Gita had asked him if he wanted to go ride his skateboard, and grew worried when he was unresponsive. He didn’t relay the encounter on the hill or the premonition to her, but he knew that he had to keep an eye on Sarah Jane Smith and the people he considered his friends.
Gita, meanwhile, hovered by the doorway and resolved to keep a closer eye on him.
Eventually, they both got their chances to fulfil their resolutions, on the day the tightly-knit group returned to 53 Diamond Way covered in green goo.
He turned the corner and found himself on a dirt path. He followed it, and realised he was approaching Suncrest Hill ‒ the place he had met Zoe. He stopped when he reached the top, and looked out at the village, basking in the autumn twilight. It was beautiful, he thought to himself. Strange. Alfie typically didn’t find things beautiful, but there was something about Foxgrove that just...drew him in. There was a sense of familiarity that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, like deja vu. He narrowed his eyes, not to scrutinise, but to contemplate.
Alfie was prone to dreams, he always had been. Curled up in his bed back at the care home, he would twist and turn to try and ward them off, but they always stayed, always lingering like a stain in the carpet.
“What’s it mean?” he ruminated aloud. “What’s any of it mean? Tell me, cos I ain’t got a clue.”
He was surprised when a bird chirruped in response. Alfie looked down on his left shoulder, and recoiled when a parrot stared back with beady eyes. He tripped over his own feet and ungracefully landed on his back. The parrot had flown off his shoulder as soon as he started his descent, and Alfie watched in slight reverence as the parrot landed on the hand of a man, who smiled enigmatically at him.
“I trust the Captain didn’t startle you too badly, young sir,” the man said smoothly. There was a posh air around him, the kind Alfie couldn’t stand. They were typically associated with people who thought they were all high and mighty, but this man...he was strange. He was dressed in regal robes, and a matching cap was adorned atop his head. Alfie wondered if he was wearing shoes under his robes as he picked himself up and brushed himself off.
“Nah, I’m fine,” he murmured. The man simply smiled at him, as if he was expecting that response.
“Is anyone truly fine?”
Alfie was taken aback by the question, and his mouth flapped open and closed. The man was a nutter. “Er…”
“Is fine an illusion? Or will it be an illusion? Perhaps the answer I pose lies in the realm of dreams. The realm...of recurring nightmares.”
Alfie’s mouth closed, and he glared at the man. He knew. “Don’t know what you mean, mate.”
“I think you do, young orphan.” The man strode towards him and held up a placating hand. “May I see?”
Alfie bristled. “See what? Get lost.”
The man ignored him, and gently picked up the dog tags wrapped around his neck. He looked thoughtful, a look Alfie reckoned he had a lot of the time. He stubbornly stood his ground, not wanting to show the man how uncomfortable he felt.
“It’s quite remarkable,” he mused, running a finger over the initials etched onto the back. “How engravings, and even objects, can retain such memories. Will retain such memories. Memories.” He chuckled, and looked up at him. “I need you to do something for me, Alfie Chandra.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I am the servant of time, Alfie,” the man clapped his arms in glee. “I know what needs to be known."
Alfie jumped when the parrot squawked in agreement. "What do you want from me?”
“Your help,” he replied without missing a beat. His tone was calm, but there was the faintest trace of urgency. “Something’s coming, Alfie, and you need to be there.”
“Where?”
“Where you need to be.”
“That don’t answer nothing!”
“Perhaps not now, but time will reveal all,” the man replied. “And time needs you. Something is on the horizon, in the future. It is as clear as the sun and moon. One day, you will be needed. For that, you must be prepared. It is imperative.”
Alfie gulped. For some bizarre reason, he believed the strange man. “How?”
The man took a step back. “You already are.”
He blinked. “Huh?”
“The answer will come to you, young sir,” he assured. “Until then, keep an eye on your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” He tilted his head. “You mean Zoe? She’s not ‒”
“Find her, Alfie. Find her, find her friends, and find Sarah Jane, before they are truly lost.”
“What does that mean?”
The man simply tapped his foot, and with an accompanying squawk, disappeared in a flash of light. Alfie rushed towards the spot where the man had stood, and looked around frantically.
“What do you mean? Tell me!”
He didn’t receive an answer, and the man with the parrot didn’t come back. Alfie waited on the hill for several minutes, and then he returned home and flopped onto the sofa. Gita had asked him if he wanted to go ride his skateboard, and grew worried when he was unresponsive. He didn’t relay the encounter on the hill or the premonition to her, but he knew that he had to keep an eye on Sarah Jane Smith and the people he considered his friends.
Gita, meanwhile, hovered by the doorway and resolved to keep a closer eye on him.
Eventually, they both got their chances to fulfil their resolutions, on the day the tightly-knit group returned to 53 Diamond Way covered in green goo.
“Alfie, my darling, dinner!”
“He’s not hungry. Apparently.” Haresh commented dryly, “I told you something was wrong with him. Mrs Chifundo sent him to me today. He didn’t do his homework.”
“He never does his homework.” Gita shrugged.
“Can you go talk to him, please? I don’t think he trusts me as much as he trusts you.”
Gita nodded duly and crept up the stairs, attempting not to make any noise despite there being no good reason to do so. Alfie’s door was open. She stood at the doorway, unsure whether to speak or knock or even let out a cough - how would she alert him of her presence? But there was no need. Alfie broke the silence.
“I ain't hungry." He didn't even look away from his perch on the windowsill. His back was to her.
Gita took that as a cue to step further into the room and cautiously sit down beside him. “I know. It’s just - I haven’t seen much of you this past week.”
“Been a busy week,” he murmured.
“Yeah, it was,” Gita agreed. “It wasn’t that eventful, I think.”
“As if. You’re famous."
“For five seconds,” she shrugged modestly. “Still, I have to find out what to do with that float... what did you get up to today? After our little meeting?”
“I went out. I told you.”
“With Zoe, Beth and Dan?”
“Yeah.” But this response did not come naturally.
“What is it, my darling? You look sad.”
“I’m not sad.”
“Disappointed?”
He didn’t respond and instead looked out of his window, specifically across the street - at fifty-three Diamond Way.
Gita decided to take another approach. "Zoe came over earlier," she said conversationally. Alfie merely grunted in passing acknowledgement. She frowned at that. "She said you're not reading her messages."
A flash of irritation flared across Alfie's expression. "Zoe can f-" He stopped himself before he said something he'd regret, but they both knew what was on his mind. The damage was done.
Gita leaned back against the windowsill with a sharp exhale, wondering how to progress with the conversation. She had never had this problem with Rani. The words had freely come to her back then, but this situation was new, raw, and she had no idea what had caused it.
“Gita?” he said suddenly.
She looked up. “Yes, my darling?”
“Do you believe in aliens?”
“He’s not hungry. Apparently.” Haresh commented dryly, “I told you something was wrong with him. Mrs Chifundo sent him to me today. He didn’t do his homework.”
“He never does his homework.” Gita shrugged.
“Can you go talk to him, please? I don’t think he trusts me as much as he trusts you.”
Gita nodded duly and crept up the stairs, attempting not to make any noise despite there being no good reason to do so. Alfie’s door was open. She stood at the doorway, unsure whether to speak or knock or even let out a cough - how would she alert him of her presence? But there was no need. Alfie broke the silence.
“I ain't hungry." He didn't even look away from his perch on the windowsill. His back was to her.
Gita took that as a cue to step further into the room and cautiously sit down beside him. “I know. It’s just - I haven’t seen much of you this past week.”
“Been a busy week,” he murmured.
“Yeah, it was,” Gita agreed. “It wasn’t that eventful, I think.”
“As if. You’re famous."
“For five seconds,” she shrugged modestly. “Still, I have to find out what to do with that float... what did you get up to today? After our little meeting?”
“I went out. I told you.”
“With Zoe, Beth and Dan?”
“Yeah.” But this response did not come naturally.
“What is it, my darling? You look sad.”
“I’m not sad.”
“Disappointed?”
He didn’t respond and instead looked out of his window, specifically across the street - at fifty-three Diamond Way.
Gita decided to take another approach. "Zoe came over earlier," she said conversationally. Alfie merely grunted in passing acknowledgement. She frowned at that. "She said you're not reading her messages."
A flash of irritation flared across Alfie's expression. "Zoe can f-" He stopped himself before he said something he'd regret, but they both knew what was on his mind. The damage was done.
Gita leaned back against the windowsill with a sharp exhale, wondering how to progress with the conversation. She had never had this problem with Rani. The words had freely come to her back then, but this situation was new, raw, and she had no idea what had caused it.
“Gita?” he said suddenly.
She looked up. “Yes, my darling?”
“Do you believe in aliens?”
“I think he knows,” Gita vexed over breakfast the following morning, “About aliens.” She liberally spread the remaining jam over a burnt piece of toast.
“Do you mean Alfie?”
Gita nodded vehemently, “He asked me if I believed in them.”
“What did you say?”
“What could I say? Yes, Alfie, of course I believe in aliens - Rani fought them between third period Biology and fourth period English - why do you ask? No - of course I didn’t. I just changed the subject.”
“Well, what do we do?”
“What can we do?” Gita took a large bite out of the piece of toast. She looked across at Haresh. He wasn’t as young as he once was. Small lines that appeared occasionally in the corners of his eyes had become permanent features; his hair was not as black as it once was - strands of grey broke through; and his eyes: they were old eyes, experienced eyes - eyes that had seen a lot. She had seen a lot too. She was older now than she was five years ago - when Rani became involved with Sarah Jane and aliens and all the danger that came with it. She didn’t know about it all then - how could she? But this time around she knew. But she was older. And she did not have the time, nor the energy to always be there. But how could she warn him? What could she possibly say?
Parenthood had long ingrained the precarious warnings of a mother into her lips. There were many instances she had called out ‘look both ways before crossing the road’ or ‘don’t do that - you’ll hurt yourself’ - so why was this any different? Why could she not bring herself to say something to him, to warn him and above all keep him safe.
“He needs to be safe,” Gita declared, “Safe from lizard aliens and rhinoceros men, safe from exploding spaceships and weird watches that speak to you, and towers that grow out of the ground and blow up entire streets. Bob was a one-off. They’re not all like that.”
“What’s wrong with Bob?”
“Oh, not now, Haresh.”
Alfie needed to be safe from whatever the universe had to offer.
But above all else, he had to be safe from her: safe from Sarah Jane Smith.
“Do you mean Alfie?”
Gita nodded vehemently, “He asked me if I believed in them.”
“What did you say?”
“What could I say? Yes, Alfie, of course I believe in aliens - Rani fought them between third period Biology and fourth period English - why do you ask? No - of course I didn’t. I just changed the subject.”
“Well, what do we do?”
“What can we do?” Gita took a large bite out of the piece of toast. She looked across at Haresh. He wasn’t as young as he once was. Small lines that appeared occasionally in the corners of his eyes had become permanent features; his hair was not as black as it once was - strands of grey broke through; and his eyes: they were old eyes, experienced eyes - eyes that had seen a lot. She had seen a lot too. She was older now than she was five years ago - when Rani became involved with Sarah Jane and aliens and all the danger that came with it. She didn’t know about it all then - how could she? But this time around she knew. But she was older. And she did not have the time, nor the energy to always be there. But how could she warn him? What could she possibly say?
Parenthood had long ingrained the precarious warnings of a mother into her lips. There were many instances she had called out ‘look both ways before crossing the road’ or ‘don’t do that - you’ll hurt yourself’ - so why was this any different? Why could she not bring herself to say something to him, to warn him and above all keep him safe.
“He needs to be safe,” Gita declared, “Safe from lizard aliens and rhinoceros men, safe from exploding spaceships and weird watches that speak to you, and towers that grow out of the ground and blow up entire streets. Bob was a one-off. They’re not all like that.”
“What’s wrong with Bob?”
“Oh, not now, Haresh.”
Alfie needed to be safe from whatever the universe had to offer.
But above all else, he had to be safe from her: safe from Sarah Jane Smith.