The Greenhouse - Steven Bowman and Katie Christy

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STEVEN BOWMAN AND KATIE CHRISTY The Greenhouse First published by Blurb 2016 Copyright © 2016 by Steven Bowman and Katie Christy All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. Steven Bowman and Katie Christy asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. First edition This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy. Find out more at reedsy.com I wrote this book in my loving memory of Marie Olive Christy, May God bless you, Nanny, R.I.P. Aug. 27th, 1944 – Aug. 22nd, 2013 Contents Preface ii Acknowledgement iv CHAPTER I 1 CHAPTER II 5 CHAPTER III 10 CHAPTER IV 15 CHAPTER V 19 CHAPTER VI 24 CHAPTER VII 29 CHAPTER VIII 33 CHAPTER IX 38 Epilogue 42 Thank You, Page 43 About the Author 44 Preface “The Greenhouse” is a book about a man named Mr. Pryce, the characters, and their family members. No one knows Mr. Pryce’s first name besides himself. I wrote this book in inspiration from my beloved cousin, Katie Christy. I’ve chosen this subject of “The Greenhouse” because there are many specific factors I’ve learned by the different parts of the plants and their growth patterns and how to learn about the different cultures and languages that every character has. This book is a work of fiction that was inspired by the wonderful Katie Christy and written by me, the author of the book. “The Greenhouse” is about a man that is in his early forties, named Mr. Pryce, the other characters and their families from different parts of the world. The purpose of “The Greenhouse” is fictional and revolves around a made-up borough in London, England, called East Crossden, in the United Kingdom, in 1950. What I learned about this book is that you can learn a lot from the different languages and cultures of the friends, families, and people that come into Mr. Pryce’s life. I felt excited and proud to have my wonderful cousin who inspired this wonderful work of my first book, and it is entirely my greatest honor to write such a book as this one. Many insights have to be acknowledged by the many characters that partake of this story, like how Mr. Pryce allowed many of the people into his property, and their families. Another insight may be that it’s proven that you could learn a lot from the unique characters, their ii languages and where they came about to be. I’ve changed over this book and how it comes to be, over the differences in many of the people who inherit Mr. Pryce’s lawn and greenhouse. My acknowledgments go out to my cousin, Katie Christy, for the inspiration for this wonderful book. I want to thank my friends and family for this and hope to do more writing yet to come! iii Acknowledgement I want to thank my cousin Katie Christy for this inspiration for this 2016 novelette. She’s my inspiration, and for that, I love her. She’s the most wonderful and most beautiful woman in my life. Not only that, but she’s going to be this for my whole life. There’s a moment in my life that I’ve seemed to start my unleashed world of being a novelist in this writing world. Katie Christy, you’re the most meaningful person in my writings, and I’ll always think of you whenever I’m becoming famous for my writings, thanks for being in my life. iv CHAPTER I Early in the summer of 1950, in the London borough of East Crossden, lived a man named Mr. Pryce. When he was settling into his greenhouse, a boy named Forrester Cahill came into his greenhouse. Forrester was born in 1942, English and short, only the height of four feet two inches, weighed ninety-two point four pounds, and was chubby. Forrester was also pale, had many freckles, and his hair was short but reddish. Then, he asked Mr. Pryce if he’s opening his greenhouse, and Mr. Pryce told him it would open soon, and Forrester was the rightful age of eight. In the past, he visited Mr. Pryce’s greenhouse ever since he was five. Then, Mr. Pryce opened his greenhouse, and Forrester went in. Now, Forrester was carrying a plant of the name Field-rose, and placed it into the hole that was about a foot deep in the ground. Mr. Pryce taught Forrester how to water plants and how to give it pure sunlight. Forrester liked how Mr. Pryce taught him the plants and their growth patterns. Once Forrester got finished, he went off in the distance and came back with a friend. Now, this friend was a girl who was the age of twelve, born in 1938. She was a beautiful girl, and her name was Poppy Reed. And she didn’t know about this greenhouse. Poppy was mid-sized, only the height of five feet one inch, weighed one hundred eleven point three pounds, was normal, and she was from the Mediterranean. She also had light blonde hair and green eyes. Now, 1 THE GREENHOUSE Poppy wanted to become a part of this greenhouse, so she asked Mr. Pryce if she could come into his greenhouse, and Mr. Pryce then let her in. Mr. Pryce is seventy-years-old, born in 1880, and he was normal, only the height of six feet, weighed one hundred thirty-two point eight pounds, and he was scrawny, but muscular, who was English. You may say Mr. Pryce has trouble seeing, but with his Glaucoma, he could feel his way throughout the greenhouse, and Mr. Pryce has white hair. Poppy came in and out of his greenhouse with dirt on her arms, and that made Mr. Pryce snarl towards her. Poppy noticed it, and then she stopped. Meanwhile, later in the day, came the afternoon, and Forrester, and Poppy were hungry from planting throughout this morning, and Mr. Pryce had nothing to give them. So, Poppy came up to call her mother Vivienne, and that’s what she did. Vivienne is the age of thirty-one, born in 1919, and the height of five feet seven inches, weighed one hundred twenty-seven point nine pounds, muscular, and came from the Mediterranean. Vivienne has strawberry blonde hair and has hazel eyes. After a while, Poppy’s mother came with their food, and then Vivienne stayed awhile. Mr. Pryce asked, “Who’s there?” And Vivienne answered back, “Hello, sir. My name is Vivienne Reed. I’m Poppy’s mother.” Mr. Pryce tried to say anything, but had nothing to say in response to this because he couldn’t see Vivienne. “Good God!” yelled Forrester. “What is it, dear?” wondered Vivienne. Forrester then pointed to the animal-shaped hole in the ground and panicked with astonishment. Then Vivienne went over to Forrester, who became stressed out, and tried to calm him down while she sang a lullaby called “Hushing the Little One”. Somehow, that worked on Forrester. Poppy, by that time, wanted to help, but Vivienne shoved her aside, 2 CHAPTER I and she stopped her in her tracks. Yet, Poppy wanted to question her mother, but Vivienne refused to listen to Poppy. Forrester then was calm, and he walked away from the area and told Mr. Pryce what was happening. Mr. Pryce finally understood. However, Mr. Pryce was over in his bedroom, and he didn’t want to be bothered. Then, Mr. Pryce began by scratching his head and yelling out loud, “Why are you bothering me, Master!” Forrester wanted to cry, but didn’t. So, Forrester softly answered back, “There’s an animal-shaped hole in your greenhouse, sir.” Mr. Pryce finally understood, and Forrester took him by the hand, and led him to the place. Of course, Mr. Pryce, well known, and knew the places where the animals like to dig. Mr. Pryce then told them that the animal was a rabbit, named Mr. Bonney, and was a nice rabbit. They noticed it was a rabbit too, and they all were thankful for it. Just as they all relaxed after the whole thing, they all went into Mr. Pryce’s home. Mr. Pryce talked about the subject of wartime. “In June 1948, England entered a guerrilla war that was known as the Malayan Emergency.” says Mr. Pryce. Poppy became fascinated by what Mr. Pryce just told them. Mr. Pryce, too, became fascinated. Then Forrester and Poppy were excited about going off tomorrow and finding some new friends. So, they all sat by the fireplace where it rained until dawn and got warmed up by its glow. Until the day ended, they told some fascinating stories of what it’s like to learn about gardening and other gardening techniques, as the children remembered telling them like it’s never told before. As Forrester recalled, “It’s like this, good things come from putting the seed firmly into the ground.” Then, Mr. Pryce wonders, “Firmly, Master,” he continues, “meaning?” “It’s like this, I’ll show you,” replies Forrester, “let me give you a demonstration.” 3 THE GREENHOUSE Then Forrester grabbed pieces of blank sheets of paper and drew the seeds planted firmly into the ground. “I see, Master,” Mr. Pryce says, “is that all?” “Now you get it,” Forrester replied, “if you’d closed your eyes and imagine this diorama.” Poppy wanted to draw too, so she drew butterflies. “Do you like my drawings,” she wondered, “this one or that one?” And Mr. Pryce’s reply was, “I like them both indeed.” Thus, Poppy became pleased by his response. Yet, the day ended, and Mr. Pryce told everyone to go to their homes. After a while, after everyone went home, he felt his way to his bedroom and laid in his bed to go to sleep. The next morning came, as he awoke from a deep slumber, then woke up to an alarm. “What’s that noise!” yells Mr. Pryce, “who’s there?” Yet, there was no noise, and Mr. Pryce thought he was crazy. Mr. Pryce had a scared look on his face as it turned his skin to a white-palish color. “Seriously,” Mr. Pryce says, “whoever you are, you better stop pulling pranks on me!” However, nothing appeared to be there, and the room was completely silent. Mr. Pryce then got out of his bed, then sat on his bedside, wondering what that noise was that he heard. “No,” Mr. Pryce said, “that’s crazy, I’ve heard the noise.” 4 CHAPTER II Mr. Pryce then got out his Bible, turned to a random page, and prayed to God. “Holy Spirit,” Mr. Pryce prayed, “let there not be anything, or whatever it is.” Meanwhile, after the prayer, Mr. Pryce got out from his bedside and felt his way to his kitchen to get breakfast. Now, Mr. Pryce got a knock on his doorstep, and he wondered who it was. “Who is it?” he asked, “whoever it is, I’ve got you behind armed at the door.” Shaken and frightened, Mr. Pryce opened the door, and a man was standing with his children. This man was also thirty-four, born in 1916, had a height of six feet one inch, weighed one hundred fifty-one point six pounds, and was Hispanic. “Hello,” Mr. Pryce questioned, “and who may you all be?” Then, the man has spoken with his accent, “Hola, señor. Mi nombre es Sr. Ramón Muñoz. Este es mi hijo, Hernán Antón António Muñoz y mi hija, Antónia Noemí Muñoz.” Mr. Pryce thought that the man was crazy, as he went to shut his door, the man’s son stopped him. “Sir,” the boy said, “my name is Hernán, and this is mi papá y mi hermana.” “Hello, Master,” Mr. Pryce answered to Hernán, “and my name is Mr. Pryce.” Hernán told his father that the man was Mr. Pryce, and Hernán’s father understood. “Good morning,” said the man, “it’s so nice to meet you.” The man put his arm out to shake hands with Mr. Pryce, and they 5 THE GREENHOUSE did so. “My name is Ramón,” said Ramón, “I hope you’ll like my family because we’re new neighbors.” Then Ramón left with his children. And then Hernán comes back a few minutes afterward to get to know his new neighbor. “Hello, good sir,” said Hernán, “I’m Hernán, and I am seven.” “Nice to know, I guess?” was Mr. Pryce’s reply, “and what are you doing back here, Master?” Hernán then went into Mr. Pryce’s bedroom rapidly, and Mr. Pryce grew angry and yelled at Hernán. “What are you doing in my bedroom!” And Hernán hid in fear at Mr. Pryce. “It’s OK, Master,” Mr. Pryce said, “why don’t you come out?” Hernán then ran out of his room and out the door. And that left Mr. Pryce in confusion. “That was weird,” says Mr. Pryce, “what a strange little kid.” Then, Mr. Pryce went into his greenhouse, where he found a guest, “Good evening, and isn’t it a lovely day today?” “What the…?” replied Mr. Pryce, so astonishing, “… who are you, and what are you doing here?” It was Forrester. He then scurried to his feet and perked a smile. “It’s me, Forrester. Don’t you remember me? I’ve been your neighbor since I was a baby.” As Forrester went closer to Mr. Pryce, he let him feel his face. And he responded, “Ah, yes. It’s you, Forrester Cahill.” “Yes,” replies Forrester, “remember me?” Then Forrester left and came back with Hernán that Mr. Pryce saw earlier. “Hello, sir,” said Hernán, “It’s me, Hernán, remember? You’ve made me hid in fear from you, yelling at me.” “What,” wondered Forrester, “I thought you were new to the neighborhood?” “I am,” said Hernán, “I moved here not that long ago.” “Don’t you have any other siblings,” questioned Forrester, “like a brother or sister?” “Yes, one,” said Hernán, “her name is Antónia, and she’s ten, who was born in 1940.” “And you are… How old?” questions Forrester. “Seven,” answered Hernán, “I’m the little brother of my older sister.” Hernán was seven, born in 1943, small, only the height of three feet eight 6 CHAPTER II inches, weighed fifty-seven point nine pounds, his hair is chestnut and his eyes were bluish green. Hernán was muscular and Hispanic. “Are you like Spanish?” questions Forrester, “speak your primary language, please.” “Sí, amable señor,” answered Hernán, “y soy de un lugar llamado Córdoba, España.” “What did you say?” questioned Forrester. “Tell me in English, please.” “Yes, kind sir,” answered Hernán, “and I’m from a place named Córdoba, Spain.” “OK,” said Forrester, “well, that’s cool!” “It is?” questions Hernán. “I’ve never heard of that one before.” And both Forrester and Hernán have gone into the greenhouse together, united as best friends. Mr. Pryce felt his way to the greenhouse and went in. And Mr. Pryce got a random seed from the shelf by his feelings. And tried to feel his way to Hernán to give him the seed. “What’s this?” questions Hernán, “why are you giving this to me?” “Here,” replies Mr. Pryce, “take this as a present of my gratitude for welcoming new guests.” “Gracias, amablemente, buen señor,” said Hernán, “y tienes mi sincera gratitud, por eso, te alabo.” As Mr. Pryce felt his way back to the outside of the greenhouse, Hernán planted the seed into the ground. Forrester then taught Hernán how to water it and how to give it sunlight. “Thank you, young sir,” says Hernán, as he thanked Forrester, “you’ve got my sincere thanks as well.” Then Hernán and Forrester both watered the seed firmly, “Like this?” questioned Hernán, “am I doing this right?” “Yes,” answered Forrester, “good enough, but you’ll learn.” Then, the sun peeked through the greenhouse and landed on the spot where they’ve planted. And Hernán and Forrester were happy and excited about whatever this seed would become. “What do you think it’ll be?” questions Forrester. “Do you think it’ll be an Evening Primrose or a Meadow Crane’s-Bill?” “I don’t know?” answered Hernán, “but it’ll turn out to be whatever we believe it can 7 THE GREENHOUSE be.” Then Hernán left the greenhouse where his father was standing there in disappointment. “¡Hernán!” questioned Ramón, “¡estás en un gran problema, jovencito! ¿Dónde has estado, hijo?” “¡Dios mío! Por favor, papá, ¿podrías perdonarme por este error?,” apologized Hernán, “esto es completamente mi culpa, señor. Siento no haber venido a casa esta tarde.” Then, Hernán and his father went home, then they went off into the sunset. And then that left Forrester to himself, as he never felt this lonely before in his life. Sadly, Forrester became lonely. Mr. Pryce then felt his way out and came with a phone in his hands, “Forrester, it’s for you, it’s your Mum.” Then, Mr. Pryce felt his way back into the house and left the boy to his mother. Five minutes later, Forrester hung up the phone. “I’ve got to go home,” says Forrester, “my mother wants me.” “What for?” Mr. Pryce asked, “is it an emergency?” Then, Forrester vanished through the door, as that left Mr. Pryce misunderstood of what just happened. “I wonder what the emergency was?” Mr. Pryce still was questioning, “wow, that boy was in a hurry or something.” As Mr. Pryce went into his house, he then heard a knock at the door. “Who is it?” questioned Mr. Pryce, “I’m armed!” Then, Mr. Pryce opened the door and there, standing before him, was a woman of the height of five feet seven inches, who weighed one hundred eighteen point one pounds, was the age of seventy-five, born in 1875. She had silvery-white hair, and her eyes were bluish green. Her body was scrawny, and she was Hispanic. Her name is Ms. Alexandria Maddox. “Good afternoon, sir,” said this lady, “what a lovely afternoon, isn’t it?” “And who may you be, ma’am?” answered Mr. Pryce, as he felt her face. “Good afternoon to you, too.” “My name is Alexandria Maddox,” 8 CHAPTER II said Alexandria, “and whom are you, kind sir?” 9 CHAPTER III Then, Mr. Pryce put down his gun and spoke softly, “Nice name, ma’am,” he responded, “and I’m Mr. Pryce.” “Good name,” said Alexandria, “what’s your age?” “I’m seventy,” Mr. Pryce answered, “and yours, ma’am?” Alexandria thought about this question awhile, “I’m seventy-five.” answered Alexandria. “Do you have any children of your own?” “No,” replies Mr. Pryce, “Do you have any?” “Not yet.” answers Alexandria. By that time, Mr. Pryce asked Alexandria if she wished to come in for a cup of tea. “How many lumps of sugar?” Mr. Pryce asked. “Three,” answered Alexandria, “that’s only enough, sir.” Mr. Pryce then felt his way to the lumps of sugar and tried to feel the sugar cubes. “Three,” Mr. Pryce hesitated, “I only like two.” Then, Mr. Pryce felt his way to Alexandria, and he felt her hand and gave it to her. Alexandria then thanked him kindly for the cup of tea. “What’s there to talk about?” Alexandria wondered. Then, Mr. Pryce hesitated to talk about wartime, but Alexandria insisted on talking about other things. “Talking is good enough,” Mr. Pryce thanked Alexandria, “but there’s so much to talk about.” “How about this?” answered Alexandria, “we’ve never met before, let’s talk about that.” “Good,” Mr. Pryce said thankfully, “we should talk about that.” “Where were you born?” questions Alexandria, “Europe, perhaps?” “Why do you 10 CHAPTER III say that?” wondered Mr. Pryce, “is it my accent?” Alexandria hesitated and said, “Yes, I think you’re English.” “Good job, ma’am,” says Mr. Pryce, “that is correct, and you have done a good job, ma’am.” “Thanks, kind sir,” thanked Alexandria, “and what do you notice about myself?” Mr. Pryce felt her, “You’re Hispanic.” answers Mr. Pryce, “am I correct?” “Yeah,” Alexandria answered, “good job, sir.” She then went to grab his hand to shake it, and Mr. Pryce noticed her feeling of the hands, and they shook hands. Now, after a while of talking to each other, they got a knock at the door. Alexandria answered the door, and she noticed it was a boy. “Who’s this, Mr. Pryce?” wonders Alexandria. “He’s Hernán,” Mr. Pryce answered, “he’s my new neighbor.” “Hello, ma’am,” says Hernán respectfully, “my name is Hernán António Muñoz, and I’m seven.” “Hello, Master,” answered Alexandria, “nice to meet you, Hernán.” “Indeed,” says Hernán, “nice to meet you, too.” Then Hernán came into Mr. Pryce’s house and sat on his couch. “May I watch television?” asked Hernán, “I wanted to watch Professor Arachno.” “Who’s Professor Arachno?” questioned Mr. Pryce. “What’s his real name?” “He’s a superhero,” answers Hernán, “his real name is Professor Brady Spence, and he’s from Texas.” “Oh,” Mr. Pryce answered back, “that’s cool.” Mr. Pryce then let the boy watch the television show. “This is a new episode, sir,” said Hernán, “and it’s the fourth season, twenty-seventh episode.” Mr. Pryce was sipping his cup of tea and hearing Hernán speak. “That’s cool,” Mr. Pryce replied, “may I watch it with you?” Hernán hesitated to tell him it was a kiddie show, but Mr. Pryce didn’t mind. “Sure,” said Hernán. Then, Mr. Pryce felt his way into the living room to overhear the show until Hernán wanted to go outside. “What is it you like most about the show?” questioned Hernán. “Well, most of what 11 THE GREENHOUSE you’ve heard.” Mr. Pryce respected what Hernán wanted to say. “I’ve liked the part where he saved a cat from a tree before battling the villain,” Mr. Pryce answered. “Me too,” Mr. Pryce agreed with Hernán, “I’ve liked that part too.” Now, after they talked, Forrester came back with terrible news. “My Grandma, Tricia Davies, died,” Forrester said as he cried. “How did she die?” Mr. Pryce questioned. “What is it from?” Forrester cried, “She died of a lung disease,” Forrester said miserably, “but I forget what it’s called.” Mr. Pryce thought of what the death would be. “It’s called Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease,” he answered. “They abbreviated it to COPD.” Forrester then asked Mr. Pryce, if he could stay around his house, and Mr. Pryce told him, only if it’s all right with his parents. “May I please use your phone, sir?” Forrester asked. “You may,” Mr. Pryce responded, “if you stay around, you’ve got to do chores.” Then Forrester left and went to call his parents, and came back ten minutes later. “They agreed with it,” Forrester responded, “sir, how much am I getting paid?” “Let me think,” answered Mr. Pryce, “I’ll pay you, £10,” Hernán thought of the pricing. “£10 equals €11.64 in my country,” says Hernán. “Really?” Forrester said fascinatingly, “that’s cool!” “How do you know?” questioned Mr. Pryce, “that’s cool how you’ve known in your head.” “Well,” says Hernán, “as you now can see, I’m smart for my age at seven-years-old.” Mr. Pryce became fascinated by the head-counted math that Hernán did. “Yes,” responded Mr. Pryce, “you’re smart, indeed.” “Thank you, kindly,” thanked Hernán, “I am, aren’t I?” Then Alexandria told everyone there will be thunderstorms soon. “All of us go in,” said Alexandria, “please, it will pour soon.” Everyone went into the house and sat by the fire to get warm. Then, it 12 CHAPTER III became nightfall, and Mr. Pryce told everyone to go home but Forrester and Hernán. And everyone left, and he told Forrester to get his pillow and blanket from his home. Now that the room was silent, Mr. Pryce asked Hernán an important question. “Do you want to meet Professor Arachno?” Mr. Pryce asked. “If you do, I’ll take you to see him.” “Yes!” Hernán said so excitedly, “I do. But how are you going to do it?” Mr. Pryce told him not to worry about it. He’ll make it happen. Then Hernán went back home. Forrester came back to Mr. Pryce’s house. And then Mr. Pryce and Forrester both rested until the morning. The next morning came, and Forrester awoke early in the morning, and Mr. Pryce awoke a little later than Forrester. “Good morning, sir,” said Forrester, “what’s there to eat?” Mr. Pryce thought about it. Then, Mr. Pryce replied, “There are cereal and bowls in the cabinet. And the milk is in the refrigerator. I’ll get the cereal and make your breakfast.” “Thank you, sir, kindly,” respected Forrester, “I’ll take anything you’ve got.” Mr. Pryce felt his way to the kitchen, and the boy went past him and sat at the kitchen table. “I’ll give you Honey Munchies,” Mr. Pryce said, as he had only that. “Please,” Forrester said politely, “I’ll take anything you’ve got.” Then they both ate breakfast. After breakfast, they both went outside, and then Mr. Pryce gave Forrester his first chore. “Clean the gardens,” said Mr. Pryce, “that’s the first chore.” Then Mr. Pryce gave Forrester a garden shovel and told him to be careful. Thirty minutes passed, and Forrester finishes, “What’s next?” he asked, “I’ll do anything, and I’ll work hard at it.” Mr. Pryce thought of a new chore and gave it to him. “Paint a new color on my fences,” Mr. Pryce said, “and I’ll teach you how to.” “What color, sir?” Forrester respectfully said. “I’ll be happy to paint it whatever.” Mr. Pryce tried to remember the colors he had. “Golden Poppy,” he 13 THE GREENHOUSE said. “I’ve also got Pale Cerulean. Those are my paints.” “This is what I’ll pick,” Forrester replied. “I’ve chosen Golden Poppy.” “Good,” was Mr. Pryce’s reply, “You’ve chosen well. I would’ve chosen that too.” Then, Mr. Pryce led Forrester to the supply closet and grabbed the paint can that had GOLDEN POPPY written across the lid of the can. “Here,” says Mr. Pryce, “grab the handle carefully, it spills easily.” “OK,” Forrester replied, “I’ll handle it cautiously.” Then, Mr. Pryce led Forrester to the fence to be painted. “Paint it with me. Make sure the strokes are straight,” says Mr. Pryce. Then, Mr. Pryce asked Forrester, “Do you know how to do straight lines?” “Yes, sir,” Forrester answered respectfully, “goodly enough.” “Goodly enough?” Mr. Pryce asked Forrester, “what do you mean by that?” 14 CHAPTER IV “I’m good, I meant,” answered Forrester, “I’m good, like GOOD.” Then, they both painted the fences until Hernán was standing in the doorway. Hernán then came into the backyard. “Hola, Sr. Pryce,” said Hernán, “soy yo, Hernán, ¿se acuerda de mí, señor?” “Hello,” responded Mr. Pryce, “yes, it’s you, Hernán, I remember.” “You know why I’m here, right?” asked Hernán. “Yeah,” answered Mr. Pryce, “I’ve got to get my shoes on, then I’ll take you to him in a taxi,” “Yippee!” Hernán said excitedly, “I will meet my favorite idol, Professor Arachno!” Then Mr. Pryce told Forrester to finish and go home. After this, he took Hernán to see Professor Arachno. When Mr. Pryce and Hernán stepped into the building together, they noticed a man, who was American, forty-seven, born in 1903, that withstood six feet two inches, weighed one hundred fifty-five point eight pounds, and he was medium-sized, and he was buff. This man was from Crystal City, Texas when they found this man, the man, and the boy had a conversation with each other. “Good evening,” said the man. “My name would be…” then he paused for a second. Hernán got jumpy and shouted, “… You’re Professor Arachno!” Hernán continued, “I know you from your number one hit television show!” The man revealed his name, “It is I, Professor Arachno!” he announced 15 THE GREENHOUSE in a deep voice. And then he immediately got swarmed by Professor Arachno fanatics. Professor Arachno didn’t know what to do from that point because of the flashes from the cameras so deeply in his face. Hernán wanted to get his autograph from Professor Arachno, but it was too late. They were swarming Professor Arachno with floods of loud, but screaming children. After ten and a half minutes of cameras in his face, the mob of people left him alone. Then Hernán had his chance to get his autograph. Hernán then took Mr. Pryce by his hand, and he led him straight toward the famous person. “Excuse me, sir,” questions Hernán, “may I get your autograph?” Professor Arachno pondered about it, and only for his genuine fan, he gave it to Hernán for free instead of charging £0.68 for it. Hernán gazed in wide wonder after his true fan idol, Professor Arachno, gave the signature. “For you,” Professor Arachno said, “it’ll be my honor to give it to you for free, kiddo.” Then, Hernán thanked Professor Arachno for giving it to him for free. And then Mr. Pryce took Hernán home in a taxi, just thanking Professor Arachno for the autograph for free. When Mr. Pryce got home in the taxi, he went into the backyard and came upon all Golden Poppy painted fences all around himself. Mr. Pryce then dialed Forrester’s parent’s number, and Forrester’s father picked up. “Hello, it’s Mr. Pryce,” answered Mr. Pryce, “is this Mrs. Ella Davies-Cahill?” And Forrester’s father answered back, “No, this is Andreas Cahill.” “Who’s calling us?” After that, Mr. Pryce realized it wasn’t Mrs. Ella Davies-Cahill, and asked for Mrs. Ella Davies-Cahill over the phone. “Yes,” questions Mrs. Ella Davies-Cahill, “and who may this be?” Mr. Pryce didn’t know what she meant, because Ella already knew him. “It is I, Mr. Pryce,” Mr. Pryce says back, “you already know me, remember?” Mrs. Ella Davies-Cahill remembered, and she wondered why Mr. 16 CHAPTER IV Pryce called her. Mr. Pryce then answered back with the nicest respect you could give to a woman. “I mean this out of respect, ma’am,” Mr. Pryce answered, “your son, Forrester.” “Yeah,” Ella answered back, “what about my son?” Then, Mr. Pryce thought of a way to answer, “Your son is a great and skilled painter,” Mr. Pryce said, “you should seriously conceive him as an artist when he grows up.” “Gee, thanks!” Ella said, “you’re a wonderful influence on my boy.” Mr. Pryce said back, “Thanks, you’re a pleasant woman.” Then, Mr. Pryce hung up the phone, and climbed right into bed, and went to sleep until morning came. The next morning came, and Mr. Pryce awoke from his slumber and got something to eat from his kitchen. As Mr. Pryce stepped out of his kitchen, he got a knock at the door. When he got to the door, he heard a loud bang coming from the outside. Someone from the National Crime Agency came and knocked on Mr. Pryce’s door, and then Mr. Pryce answered the door. This NCA agent’s name was Liam McCluskey, whose real name was William. After Mr. Pryce heard the knock, he opened the door and NCA Agent McCluskey says, “Good morning, sir. My name is NCA Agent Liam McCluskey, I am here to investigate something. May I have your full name, sir?” Mr. Pryce gets startled, and says, “Why would you need my full name, sir?” Then, NCA Agent McCluskey says, “It looks like there was an explosion, sir. I am here to investigate it. Again, I ask for your full name, sir.” “Oh,” says Mr. Pryce, “Very well, my name is Mr. Pryce.” And NCA Agent McCluskey says, “Why hello, Mr. Pryce,” and then he shows Mr. Pryce a police sketch of a man, “so, do you know who this man is in this picture, sir?” And Mr. Pryce says, “I can’t see this picture, sir.” Then, NCA Agent McCluskey says, “Sorry, sir. I didn’t know that you couldn’t see this 17 THE GREENHOUSE picture.” And Mr. Pryce says, “It’s OK, sir.” And then NCA Agent McCluskey describes the man to Mr. Pryce. Then, Mr. Pryce says, “No, I don’t know who this man is, sir.” “OK, sir,” says NCA Agent McCluskey, “if you hear about this man, please stay away at all cost.” Then, Mr. Pryce says, “OK, will do, sir.” and then Mr. Pryce shut his door and went inside his greenhouse where he discovered something that he remembered the boys had done. In the greenhouse, Mr. Pryce found Forrester and Hernán’s plant. As it turned into an Evening Primrose, Mr. Pryce remembered the boys hoped for an Evening Primrose or a Meadow Crane’s-Bill, so thus it became the Evening Primrose of what Hernán had hoped for. After a while, Mr. Pryce had left his greenhouse just to come back into his household because it would rain, and he didn’t want to get wet. And after that, Mr. Pryce felt his way and went into his house, it poured rain. Strangely, after thirty seconds after it poured, Mr. Pryce heard a knock coming from the outside. So, he felt his way to the door and turned the doorknob, and opened his door. “Who is it?” Mr. Pryce asks, “I’ve got my fists, and I’m not afraid to use it!” The person didn’t respond, so the person wanted Mr. Pryce to be sorry in a certain way. Mr. Pryce yelled, “State your name!” and wondered, “and why are you here?” The person couldn’t remember the name of the man, so he shook and trembled with a shaky voice. “My-my-my-my,” trembled the person, “na-name is Win-Win-Win-Winslow Mc-Mc-McCollester.” 18 CHAPTER V Then, the teen fell to his knees, “The-the reason why-why I’m here,” he trembled more, “is-is-is, I-I’ve gotten no-no-nowhere to sleep.” Mr. Pryce wanted the teen to stop trembling about his words, so he invited the teen into his house, and then Mr. Pryce felt his way to the couch to sit. Mr. Pryce then said to the teen, “Where are you from, and do you have parents?” The teen then withstood, short only five feet three inches tall, weighed one hundred four point two pounds, and told his tale. “My name is Winslow McCollester,” says Winslow, “I believe that is my real last name.” He continues onward, “I don’t remember my parents at all, I’m sixteen, and I don’t remember my family, OK!” Mr. Pryce told Winslow not to shout out loud and questions the teen more. “What about a mother or father?” wonders Mr. Pryce, “do you remember them?” Winslow again fell to his knees, but this time, he begged to stay this nightfall. “Sir,” questioned Winslow, “may I withhold this nightfall, and stay here for a night?” Mr. Pryce then thought about Winslow to stay, and the teen, he wanted no mercy. “Sure,” Mr. Pryce answers back, “but it’ll cost you a one-night stay.” “Cost?” questioned Winslow, “I’m poor enough to be broke.” Thus, Mr. Pryce then realized that Winslow was an orphan. “Winslow,” Mr. Pryce asked, “are you an orphan?” The teen revealed his true self and sobbed 19 THE GREENHOUSE out loud. “Yes!” yells Winslow. “Yes, I’m an orphan. I’ve got no parents to take care of myself. I’m hungry, tired, and all wet, sir!” Winslow shocked Mr. Pryce with such sorrows, and Mr. Pryce’s kind felt bad for the teen. “How’s this?” said Mr. Pryce, “I’ll keep you for this nightfall, and I’ll feed you, and you’ll take a shower in the early part of the morning.” Winslow got up on his feet and nearly jumped for joy. “Thank you, thank you,” Winslow said, respectfully, “your sheltering is payment enough, my great thanks to you!” Mr. Pryce wanted to treat the teen with kindness and respect, only because he was sorry for Winslow. “You’re welcome,” Mr. Pryce answers, “well, let’s get to it, sir,” “Get to what?” questions Winslow, “are we going out in the pouring rain?” Mr. Pryce thought Winslow was crazy about saying that. “No, sir,” Mr. Pryce responds, “we’re going to bed for the nightfall.” Then, Mr. Pryce and Winslow ate a little something, and then they went to bed that night, only to wake up early the next morning. The next morning came, and Mr. Pryce woke up earlier than usual. He woke up to teach Winslow how to take a shower, Mr. Pryce would shout, “Winslow McCollester!” Then, Mr. Pryce would tell Winslow, “Please wake up!” After Winslow awoke, he and Mr. Pryce both ate breakfast and got showered. After they showered, Mr. Pryce had to make sure Winslow knew how to get the towel wrapped around his body correctly. “Boy, do you… ,” Winslow said, “… know how to teach you about many things.” “Ah,” responded the Mr. Pryce, “yes, sir. I know about a lot to teach a teen like you.” “It’s like this,” Mr. Pryce responded, “you wrap like you’re swaddling a baby child, you see?” Then, Winslow went with Mr. Pryce’s teachings and wrapped himself as the man taught him. “It’s like this,” questions Winslow, “am I correct, sir?” Mr. Pryce had to redirect Winslow instead 20 CHAPTER V of teaching him the way. “Here,” Mr. Pryce says, “let me instruct you differently.” Winslow was a little feisty, and at first, wouldn’t let Mr. Pryce touch his body. But after a while, Winslow calmed down and let him. “Sir, I…,” said Winslow. “… Shh!” said Mr. Pryce as he finished Winslow’s sentence. “But sir?” questioned Winslow, “I must!” “You must, what…?” replied Mr. Pryce. Winslow said, “I insist. I wanna learn your correct ways, sir.” Mr. Pryce wanted Winslow to have no trouble, so he changed his mind and went with Winslow. “I’ll give you,” he said. “I’ll give this a chance.” Then, Winslow almost noticed that Mr. Pryce was only trying to make him happier and free. “Are ya noticing?” questioned Winslow. “About what?” responds Mr. Pryce. And then Winslow replied, “About how a teen like me could learn many ways like yourself.” Then, Winslow added, “I’ve learned a lot since you’ve helped me out.” “Thank God or that, boy.” Mr. Pryce responded, “how come you’ve got no parents?” Then Winslow sadly looked off into the distance and frowned. “I was only four,” answers Winslow, “my mother got abused by her husband, and my mother tried to shield me from that pain.” Mr. Pryce wanted more of Winslow. “Your mother,” Mr. Pryce answered, “your father abused her?” Winslow almost cried, “Yes!” he yelled, “it’s true, Daddy was abusive!” Mr. Pryce wanted the teen to remain as calm as possible. “Daddy, no!” Winslow screamed. “Try to calm down, Master!” Mr. Pryce wanted him to calm down. Then, Winslow wanted to be calm, but he thought of his father beating on the mother. “Daddy,” shouted Winslow, “don’t you dare hit Mama!” He is remembering, “What you say, boy?!” Winslow remembered his father saying, “don’t you dare talk like that!” And after that, Winslow’s memories made him sad. 21 THE GREENHOUSE “Oh, Daddy!” said Winslow, “don’t you hit me, please!” Mr. Pryce then told Winslow it was OK for him to remember those memories. But it’s not OK to say them out loud, “Don’t you want something?” Mr. Pryce asks Winslow, “don’t you want something of mine?” Then, Winslow scurried to his feet, “Surely I do!” he said, “I want you to become…” “… become what?” Mr. Pryce replies to Winslow. “I want to have you like my new Daddy, please!” Mr. Pryce thought about that of which Winslow asked and gave it deep thoughts. Mr. Pryce then replies, “I’ll cut you some slack, boy. I don’t think so, not yet.” The teen nearly jumped for joy before he shot his wishes down. “OK,” Winslow said sadly, “I respect your wishes, Master.” Mr. Pryce wanted him to become a son, but not of his. “Here’s the deal,” says Mr. Pryce, “I’ve got a gracious lady for yourself.” “And whom may that be?” says Winslow. Mr. Pryce says, “The lady’s name is Ms. Alexandria Maddox, and her age is seventy-five. She’ll be waiting for you at the right time.” “Who’s this Ms. Maddox lady?” wondered Winslow, “and what’s her age?” He talked about the lady to Winslow. Then, Winslow understood what was to become of the lady he so desperately needed. Mr. Pryce then wanted to call the lady after Winslow came outside. However, he didn’t do it just yet. Then Winslow left and Mr. Pryce got a knock at the door. It was a woman. “Who is it?” yelled Mr. Pryce, “I am armed, you hear me!” Then, the woman spoke, “Comment allez-vous, mon bon monsieur ? Je m’appelle Madame Angélique, et je suis ici pour vous parler de quelque chose.” Mr. Pryce became astonished by what the woman was speaking, so he opened the door scarcely. Mr. Pryce answered back, “Je vais bien, et comment allez-vous, madame ? Bonjour, et mon nom est Monsieur Pryce.” The woman looked at the man with her hand on her heart. Mr. Pryce became astonished by what the woman was speaking, so he opened the door scarcely. 22 CHAPTER V “Comment allez-vous ? Je vais bien, et bonjour à vous, M. Pryce,” she answered back, “je m’appelle Madame Angélique. Cependant, je ne vous dirai pas mon nom de famille, désolé.” Then, Mr. Pryce looked out the doorway to see if anyone else was there. And then he let the woman into his humble home. Mr. Pryce said, letting her in, “OK, madame. Vous pouvez m’appeler M. Pryce, mais je ne peux pas vous dire mon prénom, désolé. Et bienvenue chez moi. S’il vous plaît, pourquoi n’entrez-vous pas ?” Mr. Pryce continues, “Aussi, voulez-vous du thé ? Je le fais frais et chaud, madame. Il sera prêt dans un petit moment, d’accord ?” Madame Angélique then entered Mr. Pryce’s house and sat on the couch. Then, Madame Angélique said, “Non, je suis désolé de le dire, monsieur, mais je ne bois pas de thé. Mais avez-vous du café pour moi ?” Mr. Pryce became shocked that the woman wanted coffee. And Mr. Pryce answered, “OK, je vois. Mais non, je suis désolé, je ne bois pas de café, seulement du thé, madame.” Mr. Pryce only had tea, not coffee. “Eh bien, OK, et c’est génial, mon bon monsieur,” Madame Angélique said calmly, “connaissez-vous des endroits dans la région qui vendent du café ? Nous pourrions y aller et boire ensemble, monsieur. Mais seulement si vous êtes d’accord ?” And yet, Mr. Pryce thought about that question. 23 CHAPTER VI “Oui, il y a un seul endroit que je connais. Nous pouvons y aller si vous le souhaitez. Je te donnerai le nom de l’endroit, d’accord ?” was Mr. Pryce’s answer, “c’est un endroit juste ici dans la ville d’East Crossden à Londres, madame.” Madame Angélique asks, “OK, alors connaissez-vous le nom de cet endroit, monsieur ?” And Mr. Pryce’s reply was, “Oui, je vais vous le dire. Le nom de cet endroit s’appelle le Café de Frédérique. Pourriez- vous nous y conduire ? Je vous indiquerai les directions du mieux que je peux, d’accord ?” Then she grabbed her purse and pocketbook and went out of the doorway. “S’il vous plaît, excusez-moi, Madame Angélique !” yelled Mr. Pryce. Then, Mr. Pryce went to feel his way and catch up with Madame Angélique. Mr. Pryce asked Madame Angélique if he could get into her vehicle. “Excusez-moi, s’il vous plaît ?” Mr. Pryce questions, “mais ça te dérange si je monte dans ta voiture, et qu’on aille au café ensemble ?” Madame Angélique immediately responds, “Oui, bien sûr. S’il vous plaît, montez, monsieur !” Mr. Pryce then felt his way to Madame Angélique’s passenger door and felt upon opening it. Then, Mr. Pryce and Madame Angélique started a conversation in English. Madame Angélique calmly says, “Hey, I’m a single woman, and I’ve 24 CHAPTER VI got nobody to be my husband.” Mr. Pryce agreed, “Me too! I’m a single male, just as you’re a single female.” “OK,” Madame Angélique responded, “how wonderful, sir.” Then, Mr. Pryce gave Madame Angélique the directions to the café he told her about. They entered together and ordered coffee and tea. Madame Angélique then took Mr. Pryce back home and left. And then Mr. Pryce slept. The next morning came, and Mr. Pryce awoke from a deep slumber, after the long night of riding with Madame Angélique in her car. “Oh, what a long night,” exclaims Mr. Pryce, “how much could I take from a French mistress?” After Mr. Pryce got up and felt his way around his home. And walked his entire way from his master bedroom, then into his kitchen. Then, Mr. Pryce got something to eat, and as he finished, Mr. Pryce walked his way to his greenhouse where there he found an unusual uninvited guest at the doorway of his greenhouse. “Hello,” said the uninvited guest, “and who are you?” Mr. Pryce questioned. “I am Makayla Blackard,” said the guest. Mr. Pryce questioned, “Why are you here? And where are you from?” The guest thought out loud and concluded, “I’m here for a reason,” exclaimed the guest. “I’m from Houston, Texas.” “Why are you here?” Makayla questioned back. Mr. Pryce told the guest of his story and how he became the world’s finest greenhouse master in all the lands of East Crossden. Mr. Pryce replied, “I live here. You silly little girl.” “Silly?” Makayla questioned weirdly, “What do you mean by silly?” Mr. Pryce wanted to be the nicest possible, but Makayla mistook him for a mean old man. “What’s your problem?” Makayla questioned angrily, “I’m just a little girl!” Mr. Pryce didn’t mean to hurt or crush Makayla’s feelings, but what he said, she took by mistake. Makayla was short, the age of nine, born in 1941, four feet eight 25 THE GREENHOUSE inches, weighed eighty-two point seven pounds, and her hair was a light brunette, her eyes hazel, and she was normal, somewhat muscular, and Makayla was American. Mr. Pryce didn’t want Makayla to take everything he said for granted, but she was a little misunderstood with her true feelings. “Well, sorry, sir,” Makayla says, “I didn’t mean to take that for granted.” “It is fine,” Mr. Pryce answered back, “no need to apologize.” “But I insist,” Makayla insisted, “I apologize for my actions.” Mr. Pryce was sure and didn’t think she needed to apologize, but Makayla did anyway. As she wanted to come into his house, but Mr. Pryce told her not to, and that it was rude of her. “Please, come on into my greenhouse,” said Mr. Pryce, “It’s in my backyard.” “Why?” asks Makayla, “it’s not like I live right down the corner.” “Where do you live?” Mr. Pryce questioned. “Lemme tell ya a story.” Makayla says. “OK,” Mr. Pryce answered. Then, Makayla started telling her story, “It all began when Mama told me to go outside. She would have my baby brother walk with me till the dawn of the moon.” Makayla continues her story, “Mama wouldn’t have let me have my baby brother out of my sight. Not only that, but she would kill me, plus my Dada would before she could. My little bro is the only thing my parents cared about except myself.” As Makayla finished her story, “Dada would love for me to take care of my baby brother, as my life depended on it.” Mr. Pryce then made a puzzling face at the guest. “He’s only four-and-a-half-years-old,” Makayla continues, “Dada would murder me before Mama could.” “Ah,” Mr. Pryce said, “I see.” “Only God can judge me,” Makayla said faithfully, “and don’t forget about his lovely son, Jesus Christ.” “Yes, Miss,” Mr. Pryce replied. “Why do you call me that?” Makayla questioned. Then, Mr. Pryce had to think deeply and smoothly about 26 CHAPTER VI his answer. “It’s a polite way to address and form a kind girl.” Mr. Pryce continued, “Like yourself, Miss.” “OK, sir,” says Makayla. “And you call me, Mister,” Mr. Pryce insisted, “it’s the polite way to address a man.” “Really?” Makayla questioned. “Shall I politely call you, Sir?” “Yes, Miss,” Mr. Pryce says back, “please, call me Mister, Sir, or Mr. Pryce.” As Makayla came to Mr. Pryce’s doorway to the backyard and tried to open the door, he stopped her in his doorway. “Where would you be going?” Mr. Pryce questioned, “nobody but me is first out of my doorway to my greenhouse.” “Yes, Mister,” Makayla answered, “I sincerely apologize, sir.” Mr. Pryce then made his way to Makayla’s and felt her face. “Ah, yes,” Mr. Pryce said. “What’s your name again?” “My name, sir?” questioned Makayla. “It’s Makayla Blackard, why?” “How old are you, Makayla?” asks Mr. Pryce. Makayla replied, “I’m only nine.” “Nine, huh?” Mr. Pryce said, “I remember when I was nine, let me tell you a story.” And a story Mr. Pryce told, “Mummy would take me to the bus stop every day of school, she would always hold my tiny little hands and tell me ‘it will be a fine day at school, correct?’” Mr. Pryce continues, “I would answer back, ‘Yes Mummy’ and she would send me on the bus ride to East Crossden Primary School, where I would sometimes get beat up by Giles Brooker, he’s a bully.” “What would Giles do to you?” Makayla questioned. “Giles would give me Indian Burns, punch and kick me, call me stupid and ridiculous names and other things that bullies do.” “Ooh, ouch!” Makayla said, “that must have hurt you, huh?” Mr. Pryce said back, “Yes, but that’s my past.” “What’s an Indian Burn?” Makayla asked. “An act of placing both hands on a person’s arm,” Mr. Pryce continued, “and twisting it with a wringing motion to produce a burning sensation.” 27 THE GREENHOUSE “Ouchie,” Makayla stood still, “that must have hurt when that mean old bully did those to you.” “Yeah, but that’s still my past,” Mr. Pryce told Makayla again, “there’s nothing I could do about it; he beats me up all he wanted, but that’ll never hurt my pride and joy.” As a while passed, and as Mr. Pryce made his way to the greenhouse and Makayla followed him from the back. “You’ll see fresh flowers and flowering pots,” Mr. Pryce said. Makayla questioned, “What kinds?” 28 CHAPTER VII Mr. Pryce concluded back, “All different types, Miss.” Makayla wanted to be a part of the excitement, so she jumped ahead of Mr. Pryce and startled him. “Whoa!” Mr. Pryce said startlingly, “watch where you’re goin’, Miss.” Then, Makayla apologized back, “Sorry, sir.” Makayla noticed one flower she saw before and stopped in its tracks of dirt. “Sir, do you know what kind of flower this is?” Makayla questioned him. “Yes, I certainly do, I own all these flowers and know each one of them,” Mr. Pryce continued, “It’s called the Cornish Bellflower, you know?” Makayla then took a whiff of the beautiful flower. “Smells good,” Makayla said. “Yeah, I know, Miss.” says Mr. Pryce, with a smile. As Makayla finished sniffing the flower, she went over to another flower and smelled it. And as thunder strolled, and Makayla left. Mr Pryce then went in and slept. The next morning came, and Mr. Pryce awoke from his slumber, and he felt his way out of bed and felt his way to the fridge to grab cereal and milk to eat breakfast. “Where’s the goddamn, Kap’n Choco Puffs?” Mr. Pryce said out loud, “now, I gotta feel my way to the pantry to feel if I’ve got cereal.” Then, Mr. Pryce felt his way to the pantry to see if he got any cereal. “I’m feelin’, but I felt nothing,” he sadly said. “Goddammit! Curses!” Mr. Pryce then retorted. As Mr. Pryce ranted on angrily, he ran 29 THE GREENHOUSE throughout his house and calmed down later than usual. “Dear Heavenly Father,” Mr. Pryce prayed, “I’m coming to you today to speak of you for the help of the boxes of cereal that are brand new. I want to pick out more than chocolate cereals, please help me pick out the right kinds and healthier kinds, please. Amen.” Therefore, Mr. Pryce got into a taxi, and made his way to a public phone to call Alexandria Maddox. Mr. Pryce dialed for Alexandria, and she picked up a minute after her phone rang. “Hello, Mr. Pryce,” she answers. “Hello, is this Ms. Alexandria Maddox?” Mr. Pryce asked. “Yes, how did you get my phone number?” Alexandria answered. Mr. Pryce answered back, “I remembered how you gave me your number from my phone book. Don’t you live in East Crossden?” “Yes, Mr. Pryce,” Alexandria said, “what are you calling me for?” Mr. Pryce answers, “I’m calling you for a kid I’ve met. He’s an orphan.” “What’s his name and age?” Alexandria questions. “His name is Winslow McCollester,” Mr. Pryce answered, “and the age is sixteen.” “Winslow McCollester and sixteen, hmm?” Alexandria answered. “Yes, ma’am, that’s the truth.” Mr. Pryce added. She thought of it as she gave him her answer. “What do you say, missus?” Mr. Pryce said, as he gave Alexandria time to think about it. “Sure, I’ll adopt him. But it’ll take time and money, right?” Alexandria says. “Yes, take him two days from now, and I’ll give you £50,000 for the offering.” “Yes, that’ll give me £87,640,000. I’ll make sure this country gives me less than £250,000 for him.” Alexandria implied. “They’ll probably take him for £150,000.” Mr. Pryce insisted. Then, Mr. Pryce hung up the phone to dial a taxicab for himself. “Hello, welcome to the Alistair Stannard Taxi Co.” answered taxicab driver Neil Stannard, “how may I assist you today?” “Hello, is this the Alistair Stannard Taxi Co.?” says Mr. Pryce. “Yes, 30