Chapter Two

As the younger members of the family left for school, silence descended on the Grunt house, save for the tapping of the father’s shoes against the hard floor as his feet carried him out of the kitchen at a leisurely pace.

He ambled down the hallway as he drank in the peace and quiet, a fond smile playing upon his lips as their banter lingered in the air like a fading mist, although it slipped a little as he remembered the nature of their last words. Tank was almost a replica of him, which made him glow with pride, but Ripp was beginning to concern him. He was growing to be just like his mother, an ever-present reminder of what they had before she’d left him with the task of raising three children. He would never show it in front of them, but he still missed her, even now. The phrase “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone” was one he could relate to the most, closely followed by “You always hurt the ones you love”; guilt would tug at his heart almost as much as sadness, but the harsh upbringing he himself had experienced prevented him from dwelling on such events for too long. It also stemmed the tears before they had a chance to take hold, turning the pain into anger and hatred. He’d always thought of tears as a sign of weakness, and now, as he waited to be picked up for work, he bounded up the stairs as he felt the rising emotions inside threaten once more to prick at his eyes. He needed his mind to be clear for work, and so his own inner turmoil was unleashed, once more, in the only way he knew how.

At least the punch-bag can’t fight back, he mused, his mind drifting back to their talk at breakfast. He wondered how badly Johnny had hurt Tank the day before, considering he would often try to walk away. One thing he had never let slip about his hatred of aliens, however, was that in part it hid an underlying fear. Peter was now an old man, yet he had beaten him in a fight before now. Just what were these beings capable of?

With his wife and children gone for the day, the retired alien was now alone in the house. He took a moment to stroll along the carpeted floors, gazing fondly at the photos and smiling at the memories they generated. During his younger years he had experienced fatherhood in the only way he knew how, at least then, in the form of pollinating who turned out to be Jenny’s father. He had felt a void gnawing at him however, the yearning to have a normal family life and to be able to play an active role in raising his children. Now, having been lucky enough to be granted his wish, he felt not only content, but proud. Johnny had blossomed, and their youngest daughter Jill was showing promise too. In fact, Ripp had often commented at the irony that a family such as theirs should bond so well, while in a completely human household unhappiness and anger were rife.

Peter allowed the sadness at his words to pull the smile from his lips as he wandered to the ‘training room’, as they all called it, remembering that although he had tried to hide it, there was a distinctly envious tone to the youth’s voice as he spoke such thoughts. Peter’s amblings took him inside the room, and up to the punch-bag he’d seen his son grapple so fiercely with before. This he studied for a while, marvelling at the expertise he had displayed, and wondering who on Earth was able to teach him such moves. Even Johnny didn’t know, which in itself was very peculiar indeed.

The sixteen year old, green skinned boy had just left school when the man had approached him. He felt intimidated by the very appearance of this stranger, clad from head to toe in loose-fitting clothing that even shrouded his features from view. What bothered him even more was the way in which he addressed him.

“Johnny Smith?”

Johnny’s head jerked sharply upwards to meet the masked face of the man, not hiding his alarm at being known by someone he had never before met.

“Yeeeaah… who are you?” came the cautious reply as the stranger reached him, “How do you know my name?”

Without answering the question, he reached into his pocket and produced a business card.

“I understand you have been having trouble with your school friends,” he observed.

Johnny’s gaze momentarily wavered as the bruises upon his face throbbed in reply, delivering a painful reminder of his skirmish earlier on in the day.

“Well spotted,” he grumbled.

“I can help you fight back,” he offered, holding the card out invitingly before him.

Johnny hesitantly reached to take the card from his fingers, his eyes scanning the print briefly before looking back at him.

“Self defence classes?” he checked hopefully.

“Specialist self defence classes,” the man elaborated, “Give me a call if you’re interested.”

With that he left, a bewildered Johnny gazing after him before once more studying the card.

“Johnny?”

“Hey, Johnny-boy!”

A sharp nudge jolted the seventeen year old from his reverie, and on looking about himself, as well as once more glancing out of the bus window, he realised they were pulling into the school grounds.

“Whoops!” he meekly remarked as everyone else began to gather their items, “Thanks.”

With more than one practice meeting awaiting him, he had good reason to drift. He often did when he knew he had a training session with his mystery tutor.

Another looking forward to rehearsal, Ripp was already getting into full swing before they’d even found a seat outside.

“Hey buddy!” Johnny greeted, heartily slapping his shoulder.

“Hey!” Ripp beamed in reply, pulling him into a warm embrace. On seeing Ophelia, he did the same with her as Johnny found them a spare bench.

“How’re you doin’?” she asked.

Ripp replied with but a curling of his lip.

“Same as always, huh?” she remarked, her tone softened.

“Mm,” he half-groaned as they sat down. “Dad and Tank are drivin’ me nuts.”

“Again?”

Ripp sighed bitterly in reply as he waved a dismissive hand.

A chance glance from Johnny’s seat saw his eyes lock briefly onto a familiar face, shrouded in part by camouflage colours. Nonetheless, his eyes narrowed as he quickly looked away, but Tank was quick to react, as always.

“Speak of the devil,” Ripp muttered softly as he approached, before gazing up at his brother’s stern features.

“Give it up Tank, we’re just waiting for the bell.”

Tank’s ears let the gentle breeze of his brother’s voice drift through the air, his attentions on Johnny as his brow furrowed into a scowl.

“I’ll get you,” he warned, “Once these have died down, I’ll get you back.”

“Whatever,” Johnny sneered, “You know what they say, the bigger they are…”

“What’s your problem?” Ophelia demanded, “Tryin’ to fix your dented ego or somethin’?”

“Good luck with that one,” Ripp taunted, “You ain’t gonna get him Tank, save it for that bag of yours.”

“Oh, you think so?!” he tested, glancing back at Johnny. “We’ll see.”

With that he spun on his heels and marched away. Ripp watched the smaller version of their father walk off with disgust, before turning back to his friends.

“Jerk,” he growled, “Would’ve thought he’d learned just from yesterday, but no…”

“He won’t learn,” Johnny observed disdainfully, “Guys like him never do.”

“Oh hey,” Ophelia piped up, again lightening the mood with a change of subject as she addressed Ripp, “You know this festival hittin’ the city over the weekend?”

“Oh yeah!” came the delighted reply, the mention of music aggravating his already itching drumming hands as they began to tap on the table. “Got my ticket, so lookin’ forward to getting outta the house for a few hours…”

“Well,” Johnny added, “If you need someone to go with, you’re more than welcome to come with us.”

He paused for a moment as his eyes flickered between the couple. “Wouldn’t I be treadin’ on your toes at all?” he checked.

“Ah, don’t be silly,” she dismissed, “You’re a friend, we’d love to have you with us.”

“That’d be awesome!” Ripp beamed, “Thanks guys!”

“No problem!” she grinned, “Might even be able to fix you up with someone…”

She had not intended to, but she had pulled the smile from his lips as he once more became morose.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered.

“You never know!” she coaxed with a smile, “Stranger things have happened…”

“One problem,” Ripp explained, “Guess who’s also got a ticket.”

At this the couple eyed each other with looks of knowing resignation.

“What did I tell ya?!” Johnny challenged her.

“Damn,” she relented, “Okay, that is a problem, just have to be more careful…”

Ripp snorted in frustration as he leaned back upon his seat, before quickly checking himself.

“Thanks for the thought though,” he told her with a glimmer of a smile.

“Still might happen,” she offered hopefully.

Ripp merely shrugged in reply, his jaw clamped firmly upon his tongue. As much as the attention would be nice, he secretly hoped to be spared any kind of romantic experience during the festival, not only because of the danger of being spotted by his brother, but also because his heart was preoccupied with somebody else. The forbidden fruit as it was known, that posed too much of a risk for him to pursue, yet he couldn’t banish the thoughts from his mind, no matter how wrong they were.