Free The Remarkables (The Remarkable Owen Johnson, part 1) by A. D. Elliott

searching his memory for any time that his father had mentioned a ‘Ken’ or someone who may have been related to their neighbour.
    “Oh yes, we go way back,” Ken said, again waving his hand dismissively, “but it’s been far too long since we last saw one another. We used to work together,” he added, pre-empting Owen’s next question.
    There was so much Owen didn’t know about his father’s life, his friends, his occupation, and who knows what else. Twenty four hours ago Owen would never have thought that his father would be a candidate for abduction, regardless as to how militant some of the protestors at the plant could be. “He was taken,” Owen blurted out.
    “ By whom?” Ken questioned, looking at his sister.
    Mrs Argyle walked up to her brother and handed him the paper from the notepad, his father’ s writing and drawing visible. Ken took it from her and stared at it, his frown deepening.
    “What do we need to do?” he asked purposefully, handing the paper back.
    “We? I didn’t think you ventured onto terra firma these days?” Mrs Argyle was smiling thinly at her brother, her tone slightly mocking.
    “Oh , I have to when the need arises. And there’s Myrtle to keep an eye on.”
    “Oh yes, she’s as welcoming as ever. We had a near run-in with her just before,” Mrs Argyle recalled.
    “We did?” Owen was confused, again, failing to remember a Myrtle that they may have encountered.
    “In the field, ” Mrs Argyle explained.
    “We d idn’t meet anyone in the field. Only the cow.”
    “That’s cor rect: Myrtle.” Mrs Argyle confirmed, matter-of-factly. “She’s Ken’s guardian angel.”
    “Been stuck with the mooing menace for most of my life. She’s like a relative I can’t get rid of,” Ken explained, looking pointedly at his sister.
    “Oh that’s very charming indeed ,” Mrs Argyle responded. “Is there someone who can cow-sit for you?”
    “Sh e’s too valuable to leave behind. Plus she’s good in a fight,” Ken argued.
    “Hang on,” Owen interrupted, “a cow is good in a fight?” Owen couldn’t imagine cattle joining the ranks of nature’s great combatants, although he supposed matadors may argue against this.
    “ Myrtle’s one of the hardiest warriors you’re ever likely to encounter,” Ken said with an authority that indicated that the argument had come to a conclusion. Owen did not feel anything was clearer though. “We’ll leave first thing. I can borrow a trailer and I’ve got a car squirrelled away behind the boatshed. We’ll need provisions for tonight. Owen, would you mind wandering up to the village to get some bits and bobs for supper? Cee and I can arrange the particulars.” Ken rummaged in his pocket and produced a twenty pound note.
    Owen took the cash but remained seated. Ken and Mrs Argyle looked at Owen inquisitively.
    “Something on your mind?” Ken asked.
    “ Something on my mind? ” Owen repeated incredulously. Where to begin? “Well first of all, I’d like to know where my dad has been taken, and who by. Secondly, I’d like to know why I’m sitting on a canal barge with a brother and sister who look more like mother and son, even though they insist that the age difference is the reverse of what their appearance suggests. No offense,” Owen added to Mrs Argyle.
    “None taken,” she said. "Anything else?”
    “Well yes actua lly, there was something else.” Owen took a deep breath and stood up. “How the bloody hell can I climb through the air; how the bloody hell can you summon the wind god or whatever it is through your hands; and who the bloody hell was that man who turned my kitchen into a chest freezer?!!” By now Owen was shouting, something he rarely did but was finding very therapeutic.
    “Fin ished?” Mrs Argyle asked.
    Owen slumped back down. “Yes,” he said quietly, “for now.”
    “Well let’s start with your father, shall we?”
    Owen nodded in agreement.
    Mrs Argyle held up his father’s note, and