The Journey of Obatorf - Chapter Two

Chapter Two - Jecklan's orders

Obatorf stormed down the corridor until he reached his bedroom. He pushed the door wide open and collapsed on his bed. He felt completely exhausted. This shocking confrontation only made him realise how much he disliked his step-father. Obatorf also hated the fact that his family were so well-off. He hated the fact Jecklan was a multi-millionaire. All he did was own a silly old bank!

As he lay on top of his duvet in silence, Obatorf heard the door of Jecklan Nightingale's office creak open. He could hear his step-father clear his throat and tiptoe down the stairs. When Jecklan reached the bottom, he opened the door of the main reception room to be greeted by his family.

Igor beamed when he saw his father. He picked himself up of the floor and gave him a big hug.
"Daddy!", he cried.
"Hello, son", Jecklan replied, rufflinf his hair.
He sat down next to Lilian on a posh leather sofa covered with a satin blanket. He put his arm around her ans she made herself comfortable beside her husband.
"Jecklan", said Lilian. "I wasn't expecting to see you. With all the fuss over Auntie Cassandra's baby, we haven't had the chance to talk much. I'm so glad you've come down."
"To be fair Lil, I do have hundreds of papers which need signing", replied Jecklan. "But I thought I'd come downstairs and spend the majority of this glorious evening with the family I love ever so dearly. Just you, me, Igor and Clarissa."
"And Obatorf of course", Lilian added. "You can't leave him out."
"Yes, and Obatorf", sighed Jecklan.

She smiled sweetly, gently rocking Clarissa who was sound asleep in her arms.
"Talking of Obatorf, where is he?", she asked.
"Oh...I suspect he's in his bedroom", suggested Jecklan. "You know what teenagers are like. They only like their own space. When I was a lad, I was always like that. I didn't want some adult nagging or bossing me about."
Lilian smiled once more, resting her head against Jecklan's chest.
"I don't know what I'd do without you", she said, adding a romantic tone to her voice. "I love you very, very much."

All the way back upstairs, Obatorf listened carefully to every single word of this conversation. Listening to Jecklan making a fuss of everyone and not giving a toss about him made him feel sick inside. Obatorf always felt like he wasn't part of the family anymore, all because of Jecklan. He wished his step-father had never exsisted. As all these emotional thoughts sunk into his mind, he felt a tear trickle from his eye.

Obatorf realised sitting there all evening feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to make things any better. He got up and looked around his bedroom. Obatorf noticed over half the room was filled with junk which didn't even belong to him. On his chair lay a very large, heavy wooden baton. Obatorf had no clue who this baton belonged to, so he threw it underneath his bed for the servants to find and pick up.

When Obatorf went back to lot on his bed, there was a loud knock at his bedroom door. It made him jump. He felt startled. Before he got the chance to open it, the handle turned from the other end. The person knocking entered the room. Obatorf felt relieved when he saw who was there.

There stood Timothy, one of the servants who'd been employed to keep Nightingale Court tidy. Him and Obatorf shared a very close friendship. Obatorf usually came to him when he was in times of trouble or need.

"Master Swanset", Timothy said in a husky voice. "I thought I'd pop by to see how you're getting on. Its been ages since we last had a proper catch up."
"Timothy, it's so good to see you", Obatorf cried. "I haven't had the best of days. To be truthfully honest with you, things haven't been going well at all lately."
"Why? What's the matter?", asked Timothy, sitting down on the bed next to Obatorf and wiping teh sleep out of his eyes.

"It's...It's Jecklan", Obatorf announced.
"Lord Nightingale?", said Timothy, startled. "Why? What has he done?"
Obatorf glanced at his shadow, studying it ever so carefully. He hadn't felt so downcast for a long time.
"I feel like I'm not wanted around anymore", he began. "I'm not treated like part of his family."
Timothy seemed quite concerned.
"What?", he asked. "Why would you think such a terrible thing? Lord Nightingale's been a great father to you. I know he's not your dad biologically, but he's been so good to you during your life. I've watched you grow up and I've witnessed him being a wonderful guardian. What has he done wrong?"
"Everything", Obatorf whispered. "I mean...oh, I don't know what I mean! He just blanks me out all the time and never refers to me as his family, not like he does with mum, Igor and Clarissa. He's always leaving me out, making me feel unwanted. He viciously condronted me just now, calling me an ungrateful little brat."

Timothy nodded.
"I...I see", he replied. "I don't think much of Lord Nightingale myself to be honest with you. But I can't do anything about it, can I? At the end of the day, he is my boss. There isn't much I can do."
"But what am I supposed to do?", asked Obatorf. "I'm the victim in this whole situation between me and Jecklan."
Timonthy wiped his nose with a hankercheif from his pocket and turned to face Obatorf.
"Master Swanset", he said. "I don't think much of Lord Nightingale, but I'm sure he isn't blanking you out. I think it's your hatred of the man which is causing you to think such a dreadful thing. Lord Nightingale would never try to make you feel unwanted. I'm surehe loves you fery much. Look, I can't blame you for hating him. As you know, it was him your mum was having an affair with around the time your dad Frank died. But the main thing is this: you've got to try and be happy, Master Swanset. Fretting like this never did anyone any good. It'll make you ill. Lord Nightingale is a very busy man, so try and give him some space."

At first Obatorf didn't reply to this. He stared at the carpet and studied his left foot. He'd never been so confused. He closed his eyes and thought about how miserable life in Nightingale Court was. He wished deeply he could run away from home and explore the world.

"So what do you say, Obatorf?", asked Timothy.
"What do you mean?", Obatorf replied.
"What I mean is are you prepared to give Lord Nightingale a chance or not?", Timothy explained. "I do understand what you're going through, but please tell me if you wish to give your step-father a chance. What's the decision?"
Obatorf thought about this for a few moments. He had absolutely no clue where he was meant to go from here.
"I...I couldn't answer that, Timothy", he murmured. "I'm so confused about Jecklan. I can't tell whether he likes me or hates me. I'm stuck in two minds. Watching him make a fuss over the rest of teh family and not me made me want to be sick."

Timothy nodded.
"It's okay, Master Swanset", he said. "I understand. I do sympathise with what you're going through a great deal. As long as you know what is best."
Obatorf drew a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. All this worrying over his step-father had caused him to feel exhausted.
"I have work to be getting on with", said Timothy. He picked up the laundry basket and a soft yellow duster. "I'd better get a move on. But listen, Master Swanset. Try not to worry. Everything between you and Lord Nightingale is going to be just fine, you mark my words." He hesitated. "Are we still friends?"
"Of course", replied Obatorf.
Timothy opened the bedroom door and left the room, humming a merry tune to himself.

Jecklan Nightingale sat in his office, searching through a load of old paperwork. He was trying to find a certain document, but he seemed to have mislayed it. Jecklan hated losing things because they always took forever to find. He hauled open a filing cabinet and emptied it, but the certain document he was looking for wasn't there.
He opened up the filing cabinet below, but this time he gasped when he layed eyes on what was inside. There, lying on top of several sheets of scrap paper was Obatorf's birth certificate.

Jecklan smirked when he saw it. He took the birth certificate out of the cabinet.
"Gotcha!", he laughed, cunningly.
All of a sudden, there was a loud knock at the door.
"Whoever it is, come in!", called Jecklan, putting the birth certificate to one side.

In stepped a tall man with bushy eyebrows and wearing a green blazer several sizes too small for him. With him was a short, fair-skinned woman with strawberry blonde hair and a pinched face. These were two of Jecklan's assistant's from Bordova banking Company.
"Leo! Sharon! Come in!", said Jecklan, who was seemingly happy to see them.

The man and the woman sat themselves down in comfortable armchairs which directly faced Jecklan's desk.
"I've been expecting you", explained Jecklan. "Thanks for coming. I know this couldn't have been easy for you."
"No need to worry about that, Lord Nightingale. It's no trouble", said Sharon. "What exactly is the matter? You seemed rather flustered when I spoke to you earlier on."
"I need to speak to you concernign a very important matter", continued Jecklan. "It's about my stepson, Obatorf Swanset."
"Isn't that Lilian's oldest?", asked Leo. "From her first marriage?"
"That's the one", replied Jecklan. "I'm...I'm just sick to the bone of him. It has been this way for eighteen years now and I cannot put up with that stupid little stepson of mine any longer."

He used the word 'step' as if it was some very rude swear word. Just thinking about Obatorf made him feel angry inside.
"Well... can you just explain what you want from us?", asked Obatorf, getting a little confused. "What has he done wrong?"
"Obatorf is always in the way", said Jecklan. "I can't even believe I've been his guardian for all these years, he's got absolutely nothing to do with me. Lilian, Igor and Clarissa are my responsibility. They're my real family. I try my best to leave him out as much as I can and make him feel unwanted. But Lilian always tries her bets to make Obatorf feel at home. I can't stand it any longer. That boy is ruining my life!"

"Well, what do you suppose to do about Obatorf?", asked Leo. "You could teleport him to another country."
Jecklan grinned. He had a very dark secret which no one else apart from him, Leo and Sharon knew about - he had the power to teleport things. He could teleport any object or person to the other side of the world in a blink of an eye. He disovered he had this strength when he was twelve, but only used his pyschic power when it was an emergency. Lilian didn't have a clue about this.

After a long think, Jecklan shook his head. "No", he said firmly. "I shan't teleport Obatorf. That would be too good for the boy. There must be at least one way we can get that boy out of my families lives for good."
"If you insist, Lord Nightingale", said Leo. "But why did you bring us into this situation?"
"Because I need you to help me", insisted Jecklan. "I can't do it by myself. Would you be willing?"
Sharon looked a bit horrified by this plot, but before she got the chance to say anything, Leo nodded with pride.
"if you wish, Lord Nightingale", he replied. "Me and Sharon would be happy to help you."

Jecklan smiled.
"Thank you", he said. "To start with, we just need to get Obatorf out of my way for good. I've honestly never seen such a waste of space."
A thought began to drift into his head. He nodded casually as this thought sunk in.

"That's it!", he cried. "There is only one way to get rid of Obatorf. Just one way. Without him coming back."
"What? What is it?", asked Sharon, getting a little concerned about her bosses state of mind.
Jecklan hesitated for a while. But a moment or two later, he whispered, "We're going to kill Obatorf."