The Un-god of Fate

A destiny-defying, football kicking, mafia-meddling, alien-invading, wetting-sef fwith laughter, fantasy adventure story!

For Adults and Children of 10 years +

Chapter 1

Charlie Bluster

At eight years old Charlie Bluster had a permanent cold and was forever sneezing and blowing his nose. Charlie was a Norphan which is the same as saying orphan when you’ve got a conk full of snot.

He lived with several other norphans in a Norphanage, a crumbly, old-fashioned stone building with bad drains and drafts that went up into all the Wrong Places. It had none of the modern comforts that most of us enjoy; there were no computer games and only one TV (which they almost never got to watch except on Saturday afternoons if it was raining really, really, hard outside).

The boys all slept together in the Boys’ Dorm which was a big room on the top floor of the building. Apart from their beds, which were all packed in like sardines, the room was barer than Old Mother Hubbard’s Cupboard right after one wizard and thirteen hungry dwarves had stopped by on their way to hunt some dragon.

All they had was a single wardrobe, (where extra blankets and dead spiders were stored), and a battered old suitcase each to keep safe their few meagre personal belongings.

Whilst the girls could play in the boys’ bedroom, no boy was allowed to even peek inside the Girls’ Dorm On Pain of Death.

“Girls need their privacy, and it wouldn’t be proper” declared Mrs Higgensworth the Cook.

This was of course because being girls, they needed a few extra comforts and Mrs Higgensworth didn’t want the boys to get jealous and Kick Up A Fuss. This included really essential items that girls just can’t do without such as huge slabs of chocolate cake, ice cream and hair dryers.

On the ground floor next to the TV lounge was The Kitchen where Mrs Higgensworth ruled supreme like Genghis Khan. The place was a constant bustle of cooking, eating and cleaning and regularly belched forth pleasant aromas which was one of the very few comforts the norphans enjoyed.

Charlie Bluster had a tough life; his days were mainly spent at school or working hard to help keep the Norphanage clean. Worst of all, they were so poor he had to eat Brussel Sprouts at least twice a week (and even Mrs Higgensworth couldn’t make those taste nice).

*

Charlie’s best and really, only friend was Katie. While Charlie was serious and mainly miserable (due to blowing his nose all the time), Katie was bright and cheerful, dancing happily around bouncing between the beds and chattering non-stop.

“Oh Charlie, isn’t it wonderful, tomorrow will be the trip to the history museum, I can hardly wait. They have a special ballet exhibition showing the dresses of the greatest dancers in the world. Isn’t ballet the finest thing? I wish I could be a ballet dancer, or a princess, or maybe a ballet dancing princess.”

Charlie looked up from reading his magazine and tried hard not to be sick. He really liked Katie and didn’t have the heart to tell her that she wouldn’t get to be either a ballet dancer or a princess or even a ballet dancing princess.

Being a norphan Charlie didn’t have many possessions and this magazine was one of his most treasured. He got it last Christmas when the man from the charity shop down the street donated a pile of unwanted items to the Norphanage.

He had read it about fifty times and knew the whole thing backwards, but it didn’t matter, each time he read it he enjoyed it just the same. He had managed to acquire a plastic bag that he carefully put the magazine into before storing it away in his suitcase, just in case any dust got on it or a spider nibbled it during the night.

“Don’t get your hopes up!” said Charlie, “The museum trip isn’t going to happen, which is a shame because I was really looking forward to it as well. They have an exhibition on comic books including the first edition of Captain Magma ever printed.”

Charlie’s magazine had a Captain Magma comic strip in it which was his favourite bit. Captain Magma was a superhero who could set fire to things just by touching them, he could also put fires out and walk straight through flames without getting burned. He was especially good at rescuing people caught in burning buildings and was a good friend to have around if you couldn’t get your barbeque lit.

“Is that what’s making you so miserable today? Cheer up, there’s no reason we can’t go. Mr Crabbe requested the minibus be brought round this morning, Mrs Higgensworth has made a whole mountain of sandwiches for our packed lunch and there isn’t a cloud in the sky.”

Katie pirouetted past Charlie bathing him in happy thoughts.

“Well, I’m telling you we won’t be going; I don’t know why but I just know we won’t.”

*

It wasn’t long before the sound of the clapped-out old minibus could be heard as it chugged into the Norphanage grounds and the kids all rushed down to the front door. They piled into the bus excitedly while old Crabbe the Warden complained endlessly.

“Sophie Wilson, did you actually comb your hair today? Charlie Bluster, stop slouching so badly! Jaden Phillips, pull up your shorts before we all go blind!”

Mr Crabbe considered himself as both a refined and distinguished British Gentleman (he kept a small photo of the Queen in his bedroom and knew all the words to the national anthem).

Although ageing, he was still very much in his prime and as warden of the Norphanage, he regularly attempted to impart wisdom to the children through his Good Example and Gentle Correction.

On the other hand, the children thought that he was a Mean-Spirited Old Codger that wouldn't stop complaining!

Despite that, he had their best interests at heart and if you threatened him really, really, badly, he might actually admit that he liked one or two of them, maybe …, sort of.

Crabbe was last to board the bus and Jeremy the driver closed the double doors and accelerated off. About two seconds later there was a muffled bang from the left back corner of the bus.

“That’s the tyre”, yelled Jeremy in surprise, screeching to a halt.

“It’s a good job we were only going about twenty miles an hour. Don’t worry I’ve got the spare and it will only take about ten minutes to fit it”.

Mr Crabbe relayed the instructions to everyone and asked the children to please be good for the ten minutes so that he, Mr Crabbe, could focus on the crossword.

As Charlie had forgotten to bring any tissues it wasn’t long before he had sneezed heavily all over the two kids in front of him. Unfortunately, one of these was Jaden, the Norphanage bully, and in retribution, he proceeded to pummel Charlie heavily in the face. Charlie, taking exception to this, tried to thump Jaden Below the Belt but missed entirely and got Chris Tupper instead.

Chris joined the fray screaming and the whole bus broke down in complete chaos.

Mr Crabbe’s Newspaper of Justice soon sorted the situation out and several thick ears later the little monsters were seated, patiently waiting for the tyre to be replaced.

“Told you we wouldn’t be going”, said Charlie.

“Shut up you” replied Jaden, still wiping snot off the back of his jumper, “you heard the man, the tyre’s nearly fixed and then you’ll see.”

Jeremy jumped back in and started the engine which roared into life and then immediately spluttered to a halt.

“What, how can we be out of fuel, I filled it up just before we left?”

“Told you”, said Charlie.

Another two minutes later, Jeremy was back in his seat having topped up the tank from the spare fuel can in the boot and they were ready to try again.

This time the bus managed to move forward a few metres before smoke started appearing from the front.

“How can this be” he exclaimed, “how is it possible to have such terrible luck, it looks like the radiator has blown.”

“Never mind”, said Crabbe, resigned now to the fact that they wouldn’t be going to the museum after all, “everyone out, I think there might be a good film on the television this afternoon.”

At this pronouncement, the disaster of the museum trip didn’t seem so bad after all and the kids flew into the big sitting room that contained the TV, all arguments forgotten.

Chapter 2

Malcolm, god of Fate

You see, the museum was Meant to close, its time was up. It was due to be bulldozed and replaced with a new shopping mall, just like those big ones they have in America with about fifty shops on each level and are so huge they have both McDonald’s and Burger King in the same building!

The last thing he needed was a whole bunch of kids landing in, spending pocket money in the gift shop or buying sweets, putting the place into profit, and keeping it going for another few days.

Malcolm wasn’t a normal person; he wasn’t any type of person at all. Malcolm was in fact a god. He was the god of Fate and in his opinion one of the coolest and hardest-working gods around.

Simply put, when something was Meant to Happen, it was Malcolm’s job to make sure it Did Happen. For example, the Mr Blobby song was destined to be Christmas Number One in the music charts and the Universal Power of Fate was stretched to its absolute limit to make sure this happened. Malcolm was run off his feet buying up copies and causing people to go temporarily deaf, (if you have never listened to the song or seen the video then we recommend that you don’t as the terrible burning sensation will never leave the back of your brain either).

Destiny, doom, and prophecies were all things that came under Malcolm’s remit.

People don’t talk very much about Prophecies anymore but back in the old days, things were a lot more fun and there were prophecies all over the place. Mighty heroes were destined to slay dragons and recover fabled treasure. Or, better yet, villages were doomed to be overrun by hordes of screaming werewolves. Malcolm was quite happy with that sort of thing but today the only time anyone talked about Fate was when it came to love.

“Ooh, surely this brave boy is destined to marry that wonderful girl” or “it was love at first sight and they were fated to be together” and other such slush.

Malcolm had heard enough about love. Sure, there was always room for a bit. For example, a handsome prince who was destined to marry the princess locked in the tower but only after first Obliterating whole Legions of Demons from the Dark Dimension.

Today however there was far too much emphasis on the marrying bit and not enough on the Obliteration part.

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Copyright © Graeme Clarke 2022, edition 2.11

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This book is entirely a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters, except for some well-known historical figures, are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Free images from Pixabay and Unsplash have been used in the creation of the cover.

We would like to thank: ComFreak, Mohamed_hassan and Aaron Burden.