Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Island Series Part 3: A Celtic Thunder Fiction (circa 2009)

Part 1
Part 2


"Last week, on CT and the Island... "... George's ears perked up and he scrambled to this feet as the narrator's voice boomed across the island. 

"The handsome Scot, George, set off to find his own darn way off the island, seeing as Keith was no help at all..." George preened a bit at this.

"He was momentarily 'rescued' by Ryan in bizarre attire, only for Ryan to be thrown off (quite literally) by a mysterious giant plant. George awaits his fate..."

"Awaits??" George thought. "I'm no damsel in distress!" So, he decided to just go conquer the island himself.

After a liberal application of sunscreen.

As he turned to get his bearings, a handsome young man with eyes of electric blue came running up to him. "GEORGE!" he exclaimed. "THERE you are. There you are! I thought you'd run off to Vaiaku village in the Funafuti province - capital of Tuvalu!"

"Tuva-what?!"

Damian looked at George pityingly, "It's a group of islands in the South Pacific, somewhere between Hawaii and Australia."

Damian continued, as if by rote. "The South Pacific is part of the Pacific Ocean, which Ireland is not located on."  He glanced at George. "Do you think Ryan even TOOK Geography in school?"

George laughed and answered "It's doubtful, lad... maybe he just skipped that semester. Not that I would condone truancy."

"Well, come on then," Damian gestured. "I've got to get you off the island before Sharon threatens banishment or something. The capital of Uzbekistan is Tashkent!"

George looked at concern with his companion. "I guess I have little choice. Where are we going?"

"The Bridge of Dushanbe. But be careful, would you? It's guarded by a fierce beast."

"Well, THAT doesn't sound promising..." George muttered, but followed the boy anyway.

Damian led George up a narrow, rocky path that wrapped around the mountain. This couldn't possibly be the way OFF the island. "Damian, are you sure you know where you're going?"

"The capital of Laos is Vientiane!" Damian yelled.

"What is WRONG with you?? We're stuck on an island, why would I need to know that??"

"I have to keep it fresh for Fall Tour, George. Those interviewers are BRUTAL. YOU may want to brush up on your world capitals too!" He suddenly looked worried. "This isn't going on the DVD, is it?"

George opened his mouth to answer, but quickly ducked when a swooping shadow nearly took his head off. "What the--??"

George and Damian looked up to find a ferocious winged beast level with them, flapping its wings to hover mere feet away. A beautiful woman, garbed in red satin, sat astride the dragon and stared at them haughtily. "And just WHAT do you think you're doing on my mountain??"

"Zara?" George asked. "Is that you??"

"Silence!" she commanded. "Here on the Island, I am Zarataunia, Island Queen of the Volcano. And YOU are trespassing on sacred territory."

Damian rushed to appease the incensed queen. "O Great Zarataunia... we humbly apologize for the trespassing. I'm just trying to get George home to Carrie and Sarah. And we have a show in two weeks... And if I don't get him home, Sharon'll kill me! May we please beg passage through your mountain? We MUST get to the Bridge of Dushanbe! The capital of Liberia is Monrovia!"

Slightly appeased by Damian's entreaty, Zara conceded. "Alright, since you put it so kindly, you may pass."

Damian suddenly sat down and began muttering, "The capital of Hungary is Budapest. The capital of Guinea is Conakry. The capital of France is Paris. The capital of George is Tbilisi. The capital of Finland is... is... is..." He began rocking back and forth gently...

George looked at Zarataunia, with concern. "What's wrong with him??"

Zarataunia was overcome with tenderness. "Ah, it seems the dear lad has come down with Capitalitis. I was afraid that might happen."

Her beast plucked Damian from the path with surprising gentleness and set him in Zarataunia's arms. "Leave him here with me. I'll nurse him back to health and return him to you in no time. You're on your own, George. Keep on this path till you get to the bridge. Hurry if you're going to make it in time."

"Just how long of a walk is it?" George asked.

"Oh. You should be there by next Sunday."


Part 4


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