My mother screamed. A trail of saliva followed the creature as it crawled toward my parents, who sat huddled together in the opposite corner of a massive cage in the center of a cavernous room. The room was dimly lit with four huge fireplaces casting dancing shadows along the walls. I had to squint my eyes to clearly make out any details and what I saw made me wish my eyesight wasn’t so good. Chips of what looked like dark marble dotted the floor.  My parents were pressed against the thick iron bars that separated them from me but not from the monster.  

  I turned to the Prince in desperation, demanding he provide some reason for this insanity. I mean, my mom and dad were about to be eaten by a gigantic blue-green slug with teeth the size of chain saws.  What was happening?  And why was it happening?  Seriously, I wanted to know.  So I asked the Prince. To be honest, I yelled at the Prince. 

“WHY?”

He turned briefly away from watching the slow-moving attack on my parents, smiled slightly at me, and then turned back to the spectacle before answering. 

“That ridiculous umbrella,” he said. "You stood out as someone fun to pick on." 

“My umb--,” I started and stopped. Did he just say my parents were about to die because of an umbrella?  

“Take an umbrella,  it's supposed to rain,” my mother had said earlier that day, unaware that she had just taken her first step down a path that led straight into the mouth of a mutant slug.  

“I lost my umbrella last week. Remember?  Anyway, I don't need one. It’s a beautiful Saturday and I’m just running to the store.  I'll be fine.” If only she'd listened. 

“Tom, it's going to rain.” It didn't. “You'll get soaked.” Nope, but guess what? You and dad are going to be devoured by a giant green booger with legs. .  

Of course, I didn't know that at the time, so as a result, I lost the argument and walked out of the house with my mother's umbrella--bright green, with red roses around the rim and a giant sunflower in the center. Folded up, it looked like a multi-colored, yellow-tipped crayon. And, apparently, that's what caught the bored Prince's eye. 

Passing the park on my way to the store, I didn't even give the Prince a second glance. I barely noticed him; just some kid sitting on a swing, slowly rocking back and forth, his feet dragging in the sand. He wore a dark-blue hooded sweatshirt that covered most of his face—of course, I had no way of knowing then what else it covered. I walked on, crossed the street and went into the corner market. When I came out after a few minutes, he was gone and I didn't give it another thought until I walked into a deserted house,but that was later. First, I had to get punched in the face. 

J.P. lived across the street from my house. His parents and my parents were friends, or something like it, and we had known each other all of our lives. J.P. is a year older than me and a foot bigger, and he’s an idiot. I know this because he has proven it to me many times over the years. In fact, he confirmed his idiocy that very day when I passed his house on the way back from the store, by stepping out of his front yard, saying good morning, and punching me.  

“What was that for?” I yelled, while holding my hand to my face and trying not to cry. 

“I don't know. Seemed like a good idea, Tommy,” J.P. said, smiling that evil smile, because he knows I hate to be called Tommy. I hate to be punched in the face, of course, but I really hate being called Tommy. 

“Not a good idea at all, Arthur.” I shot back using his middle name, which just so happens to be his father's first name, and, oh, by the way, J.P. is scared to death of his father. 

“What did you say?” he asked menacingly. 

“You heard me,” I said, pretending to be brave, as I backed away toward the street and the safety of my home. 

“Take it back,” J.P. said. 

“Make me.” And I turned and ran across the street and into my house, completely missing that the front door was standing wide open. The house was silent, which by itself would not seem that strange, but adding the open door to the plate of breakfast smashed on the floor to the fact that the kitchen counter was blinking, I was pretty sure something was wrong.  

Blink, blink, blink. A little red light was the only indication that the shapeless green blob on the counter was anything more than an upended bowl of jello. I reached toward the light, wondering what it meant and what it might do. When my index finger was an inch away, the blob quivered, as though nervous of my attention. I hesitated. The possibility suddenly occurred to me that a blob with a blinking red light might explode. I took a deep breath, preparing a scream of appropriate terror, when the blob spoke. “Hello, you there, kid?” 

I froze with my mouth wide open The scream died in my stomach, which now threatened to flip upside down in fear and confusion. I sat, well, flopped, on the floor to keep my legs from collapsing under the stress of my stomach's gymnastics.  

“Hey, kid. If you're there, touch the red light so I can see you,” the blob voice called out to me. Would a bomb ask you to blow it up, I wondered? I had no experience talking to blobs before. I stood back up and touched the light. It exploded.  Nah, I’m just kidding. The blob started to change shape at my touch, flattening itself on the counter until it was almost indistinguishable from the marble underneath. Then, like a small flat screen television, a picture started to form and the boy with the hooded sweatshirt pulled down over his face appeared before me.  

“Hey, kid,” said the voice in the hoodie.

“Uh, hey,” I said back. What was I supposed to say? 

“Notice anything missing?”

“Who are you?” I asked. 

“Okay, fine, we'll do it your way. I am the Ashtapan Crown Prince, sole heir to the Throne of a Thousand Leaves currently held by my father, of course. The honor you have in simply speaking to me is rare indeed, as I am most frequently in the company of only the most important people. You are priveleged to have the opportunity to use an insta-speak, as their use is normally reserved for military and related 100-year requirements.” He paused to catch his breath and I tried to process what he was saying. He was more succesful than I was, because before I had the chance to say, “huh?” he continued on.

“Now, here's what you're going to have to do to get them back,” he continued. 

“Wait, get who back? What are you talking about?” 

“Oh, right. We didn't get to that part yet, because you kept asking annoying questions.” 

“What annoying questions?” 

“You're doing it again.”

“How am I . . . fine, go ahead.” 

“Thank you. So, I have taken your parents and locked them in a cage with an extremely-hungry-and-vicious-but-incredibly-slow-moving maggoricus that will likely devour them in about a week.” He smiled at me like he'd just told me the best news possible.

“WHAT?”

The Prince looked confused. “You speak English, right? I mean you can understand what I'm saying? Sometimes I get the language wrong. That can be such a mess. One time, this whole village was destroyed by a volcano because I didn't turn on the . . . You don't care, do you?”

I was staring at his face in the blob of jello, incredulous. “Where exactly are my parents!” I hollered.

“I told you. In a cage, about to be eaten alive. Well, not about to be eaten, more like eventually to be eaten.”

“I don't believe you.”

“Yeah, I figured you'd say that. All right then, listen closely or you'll never see them again,” he said, clearly bored with this part of the game. 

Five minutes later I stood five blocks away from my house, looking up at a small doorway three feet off the ground with no steps leading up to it. According to the Prince, it was a gateway to another world. According to my eyes, it was a small boarded-up door on the side of Boo Boo's Bargains, a store that sold old furniture and toys. Maybe it was once a place for loading stuff on and off trucks, but it sure didn't look like it had been used for anything in a long, long time. There was no driveway or walkway leading to the door, only weeds and a few rusting cans. If this was the gateway to an advanced alien civilization, Earth seemed pretty safe. 

I pulled myself up onto the narrow ledge in front of the door. Trying to keep my balance, I leaned against the door, expecting -- actually I had no idea what I was expecting. What I was not expecting was to fall through the door and land on a rock-hard floor 26.2 light years away from Earth. Yet, that's just what I did. Maybe Earth's not so safe after all. 

The voice from the jelly blob on my kitchen counter was the first thing I heard. “Do you know that I have traveled to over forty worlds across the galaxy, and all the creatures I have encountered along the way have two things in common.” I slowly stood up, rubbing the side of my head where it had hit the floor. My mouth dropped open and stayed that way, as my brain tried to process what stood in front of me. 

“Two things,” he continued. “Limbs, like arms and legs.” He held his own arms out towards me like a salesman demonstrating his products. “Of course, not necesarrily only two of each. There was this amusing creature, really quite good looking in the right light, with five of each, who took me for a ride in her…well, never mind, it’s not important. As I was saying, to things, limbs—and eyes”

He stared at me and I found myself unable to do anything more than stare back. If I had any lingering doubts about whether I truly stood on an alien world, the Prince's eyes blew them away like a house of cards in a hurricane. Like two large upside-down teardrops, they flowed around his small nose, starting as large circles just below his forehead and ending in a narrow V an inch away from the corners of his mouth. If the eyes weren't disconcerting enough, the fact that there were no visible lids or any other way of blinking made the Prince's stare even more frightening.  

He smiled. And that's when my mother screamed and I noticed the cage and learned about the umbrella. 

Having your parents kidnapped and taken to another planet, falling through a door on the side of a cruddy antique store and ending up light years from home, learning that giant man-eating slugs exist—these are all things that I don't normally have to deal with, so I think I can be excused for what happened next. I started to cry. It was no little whimper, either. We're talking full out snot-rolling-down-my-face, red-eyed, gasping-for-breath kind of crying. The Prince looked on, still smiling, and I felt my fear start turning to anger. I reached for him, but he grabbed my wrist so quickly I barely saw his hand move. And then he slapped me so hard I froze in shock. This was no mean-spirited but basically harmless punch from J.P. My cheek was on fire. 

“Don't be such a baby,” he said. 

“You're going to kill my parents!” I yelled. 

“Ah, well, that's where things get interesting. You see, the situation is actually not at all as it appears. It is you who holds the fate of your parents in your hands. You will decide whether they live. Not me.” The Prince stopped there looking very pleased with himself, as though a well rehearsed speech had just been delivered perfectly and he was waiting for the applause to begin. But I was still rubbing my cheek and thinking about slapping, not clapping. 

“Was I supposed to be impressed by that or even understand a word of what you just said, for that matter?” I asked with as much derision as possible in my voice. The Prince sighed.  

“Okay, I'll dumb it down for you, Earth-boy. I have a task for you, an adventure really. Should be quite fun and all. I need you to steal something for me, for my people actually. It's a very noble quest and I, and you, of course, will be revered for our bravery and commitment to winning the war. So, you go on this little adventure, get the Chatrang's HTS for me, and you and your parents go home. That's it,” the Prince said. 

A hundred questions swirled in my head, so I tried to ask them all at once. 

“What war? What's a Chatring? Why do I have to steal it? Where is it? Who has . . .?” The Prince held up his hands to stop me.  

“It's pronounced Chatrang, not ring, but this is tedious and boring,” he said. “You have the general idea. That's enough for now. You want your parents to live, you do what I say. I'll admit it may not be that easy to do alone, though. I'll give you an hour to find a few friends to help if you can, but think hard about who you want to bring. We are at war, after all. Best if they have some skill at fighting and can handle a weapon. Oh, and if they can see in the dark, that could come in handy. The door will open again in one hour.” With that he pushed me. Before I could ask what he was doing, he shoved me again. I braced to hit the wall behind me, but instead found myself falling backwards and landing on my butt outside the door to Boo Boo’s Bargains. 

"Holy crap," I said.