Harry Moffer & the Dumbest Story Ever!

Chapter 3: Off to Warthogpox High

Harry and Tafrin left the little neighborhood of Ilva and went to the train station. Soon, the city of Branford, Coggnetigut was far away. The train took them deep in the state of Pencilvarnia to a huge town called Wyvernwing. The town was located on the plains and had a fairy-tale look to it. It was well-known for having a haunted house, a tumultuous history, and its friendly inhabitants. Also, rumor has it that many of the town's citizens are involved in some sort of secret project.

Harry frowned as he looked upon the town. Everything seemed to be normal enough, but there was something about the town that he though was a bit...off. He had no idea of what it could be, as he had spent his entire life being exposed to the Dourfeys and their twisted version of "normal".

He saw that the park was empty, as if there were no kids allowed to play outside at all. There were no basketball or tennis courts, and there wasn't even a swimming pool. What kind of town am I moving to, Harry thought to himself as he thought of the happy, well-adjusted children living normal lives in Branford. He would eventually find out the answer to that question and he wouldn't like what he discovered.

The taxi carrying Harry and Tafrin soon pulled up to a house. The house was small and it looked very old-fashioned despite its excellent condition. The interior was done in colors that remind you of a black and white film. The yard was tiny and looked very formal, almost like an English garden.

Tafrin went to the door and rang the doorbell. A man came to the door. He was described as a busy bee, with deep-set brown eyes and straight, ash-gray hair. He was very tall, had a broad-shouldered build, dark skin, and a wide chin. He said, "Have you brought him?"

"Yes," said Tafrin. "Here is Harry Moffer. You remember his parents, Hames and Linny Moffer?"

"Well, I try not to talk about them," said the man.

"Anyway, I'm here to bring you Harry Moffer; the poor boy has been mistreated by his relatives," said Tafrin. "Small wonder that he didn't lose his sanity while he was with them."

"Indeed," said the man. He stared at Harry and said, "You may not know me, but I know who you are. You're Harry Moffer. I'm Joe MacLean. My wife, Dianna, has cleared out the back room for you. Our kids, however, aren't too keen on having you over, so, it's necessary that you stay out of their way as much as you can."

Harry frowned as he wandered through the house until he reached his new room. The room was tiny and stuffed with a tiny bed and a chest of drawers, and there was a table and chair in a corner of the room. I have somehow traded one weird family for another, Harry thought to himself as he prepared to settle down. And I thought that Tafrin claimed that the Dourfeys were weird and abusive. How did this come about?

Tafrin came to him and said, "I'll be back tomorrow to help you get your school supplies."

Harry said, "Why did you bring me here? I was doing just fine with my relatives. They never beat me or abused me. Why did you lie to him?"

"I had no choice," said Tafrin. "Snibblepore ordered me to fetch you from the Dourfey family; he was the one who placed you with them when he should have contacted social services, which would have placed you with a decent foster family and not the Dourfeys. But we should have read the will closely and realized that Linny didn't want you with her sister at all."

"And I suppose that Snibblepore knows about how and why my parents died," Harry snapped at him.

"The matter of your parents' accidental deaths is no laughing matter, no matter how well you tell the story," said Tafrin. "They were hit by a clown car while on their way home from a party. You were sitting in the back seat with your mother. The clown car was on fire and even though your dad tried his best to avoid the crash, the crash was determined to get him. The car your family was in caught on fire and exploded, leaving you alone and orphaned, lying by yourself on the streets of Wyvernwing with nary a thing to your name."