NATIONS
OF ATALANTICA
e-Book 2006
www.mittymax.com
Copyright 2006
Title:
How Able’ Saved The Free Nations of Atalantica From The Evil General Malfaktor And His Men
Subtitle: And Became The Hero Of All The People Living There Forever, And Ever, And Ever.
Author:
P. J. Acocella
Cast of Characters
Ableson (Able’) T’Dooitt. Ten year old hero of Atalantica
Sniffer. His pooch
Professor Dalrypple. Able’s mentor
Juan Carlos Allende. Prime Minister of Lä Tinos
Hachiro Hamaguchi. Prime Minister of Shōwa
Madam Athena Mycenae-Menes. Prime Minister of Tureece.
Dr. Kenneth Okondo. Prime Minister of Showa.
HansNiemoeller. Chancellor of Landschaftlic.
Nils Ericson. Prime Minister of Norsweden
WilliamWellborne. President of Americulum
Burgess Wickes. Prime Minister of Brislandia
Lieutenant Tom Wellborne. Grandson of President Wellborne.
Elisabeth (Beth) Fairchild. Tom’s ladyfair.
General Bruit Malfaktor General of the Armed Forces of Americulum
Colonel Vorner Von Trubble. Staff Member
Major Hugh Surper. Staff Member
Lieutenant Raven Maniack. Staff Member
Captain Feral Stoneheart. Staff Member
Whyzenheimers. Thinktank Problem-Solvers
Youths on the beach. Vacationers
Like a beautiful multicolored jewel set in a sparkling ocean of blue, lie the tiny island-Continent of Atalantica.
Located approximately 38 degrees
latitude, 42 degrees longitude above the Equator and, although still in the
horse and buggy age and small in size . . . only 112 miles long and 40 miles at
its widest point . . . it still, nevertheless, was divided into eight tiny
independent nations. They were: Africans, Norsweden,
Shōwa, Lä Tinos, Brislandia, Tureece, Landschaftlic, and
lastly, taking up the southernmost portion, and largest and most populated of
the tiny democratic-Republics, was Americulum.
Folklore had it that the tiny island-Continent was once part of the European continental shelf, had broken off and floated out to where it is today.
Then there were others who claimed it was the result of a great explosion from out of space. Else, they argued, how could anyone logically explain its strange ways, its mysterious existence?
Nevertheless, regardless of its origin, Atalantica was still a beautiful land of lakes, lush valleys, villages and wooded mountains.
Its inhabitants . . . who were from all races, creeds and religions . . . were a happy, hardworking prosperous people who loved their freedoms, and all the benefits and privileges that went with a free nation. They not only traded goods, but every year after harvest time, they would play games, and have friendly contests with each other, too.
But if you were to look, you wouldn’t find Atalantica on your world map. Not that it was an oversight on the part of the mapmaker, mind you. Rather, due to an combination of atmospheric conditions, and a powerful, mysterious electro-magnetic force, it created the illusion that it wasn’t there, that it was just part of the great Atlantic ocean where, much like a one-way looking glass, the people of Atalantica could look out and see the outside world, but the outside world couldn’t look in and see them.
And when the large ships of the sea came perilously close to striking the tiny island-Continent, the powerful, mysterious electro-magnet force would repel, and automatically steer them safely clear in a wide arc, so that they wouldn’t run aground on the extremely dangerous, uncharted reefs and shoals that encompassed Atalantica, and harm themselves.
And in the summertime, through the magical acoustical powers of the tiny island-Continent, the people of Atalantica would line the shores and mountainsides, and cup their hands to their ears and listen, and smile and laugh good-naturedly as they could hear the captains of the ships try to explain to the concerned passengers why it happened; and the self-assured captains would invariably answer in the same old way: “Now, now, calm yourselves, folks, calm yourselves. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s only a strong undercurrent that’s making the ship drift so badly the way it is. That’s all there is to it. Now go along and enjoy the rest of the trip.” And when the passengers left not entirely satisfied with his answer, he would add wryly to his first mate, “The next thing they’ll be tellin’ us, Archie, there’s some angelic force out there pushing the ship away from invisible reefs and shoals so we won’t run aground, or whatever else in heavens name they’ll think of next.” And they, too, would smile and laugh. And, of course, the laugh was on them.
And it’s precisely for that unique geophysical reason why, even to this day, Atalantica is still unknown to the outside world. And why, too, while the outside world seethe in wars, tumultuous peace and social upheaval, the Atalanticans enjoyed a serene and happy life of peace and harmony, not knowing conflict or poverty for hundreds of years.
But then one frightful day the wonderful life they enjoyed so much almost came to a tragic end.
And now lying flat out on his stomach atop a huge rock overlooking the ocean front, one of Atalantica’s concerned citizens . . . Ableson (Able) T’Dooitt by name . . . took it upon himself to put down on paper the story of what happened that near-fatal day, so that he could warn the other free nations of the world of the very real threat to their own precious freedoms, and what could be done about it to better protect and preserve them, so that they wouldn’t lose them as the people of Atalantica almost lost theirs.
Wearing brown shorts, a white open shirt, brown shoes and socks, and a size-too-large peaked blue hat that sat jauntily atop a sandy-haired cherubic face, Able . . . who was only ten years old . . . diligently persevered the best he could to chronicle the events leading up to that memorable day.
Stretched out beside him was his ever-faithful canine friend and constant companion, Sniffer.
Sniff’ was a low-to-the-ground short-haired brown and white pooch with a short pointy tail, a long inquisitive nose, and had the marvelous gift for getting himself and others into trouble.
As he intently watched Able struggle with his chore, Sniff’ would react in kind.
When Able was delighted with what progress he had made, he, too, would be delighted.
When Able showed frustration when drawing a mental block, or showed disappointment with what he had written, so, too, would he.
Finally, after much time had elapsed, Able completed the saga of heroes and villains. Then with justifiable pride in what he had accomplished, in large, bold letters, he scrawled his name at the bottom of the document.
This done, he then shuffled all the papers together in a neat pile, rolled them into a tight cylinder, and then stuffed them into an empty bottle lying beside him. Next, corking the bottle tightly, he flipped it to the ground below, whereupon Sniff’ immediately jumped down and pounced on it, then held it aloft in his mouth by the neck of the bottle, and awaited his master to descend.
Sliding down off the huge rock, with an appreciative smile, Able took hold of the bottle, but Sniff’ . . . who could be obstinate and a little ornery at times . . . growled and backed away, stubbornly refusing to give it up. Back and forth they went at it, each fighting for passion of the bottle, until finally, realizing Sniff’ only wanted to carry the bottle to wherever he was going, Able graciously gave in and allowed him the honor of doing so, such as it was.
Together then, with Sniff’ proudly carrying the bottle on high beside him, they made their way down to the waters edge.
Arriving, without incident this time, Able removed the bottle from Sniff’s mouth, patted him affectionately atop the head a few times for a job well done, and then set about to launch the bottle into the water where, hopefully, it would reach the outside world with its urgent message.
Determined now to give the message-bottle as fine a head start as humanly possible, Able decided to throw it as far into the ocean as he physically could.
Taking hold of the bottle by the neck, he reared back, and with all the strength at his command, threw it toward the open sea, then quickly looked up in horror as a tremendous wave seemingly appeared from out of nowhere to catch the bottle and throw it back at him faster than he threw it, then came crashing down atop his head as he fled for his life, and washed him up the beach another fifty yards before he came to a rolling, tumbling atop, nearly drowning in the process.
Sniff’, who had seen the monster wave coming in the nick of time, had scampered up the beach for dear life, but was luckier, and barely escaped the same fate as his master.
Wringing wet, but none the worse for his hair-raising experience, Able picked himself up, placed his hat back on his head that Sniff’ chivalrously retrieved for him, and then resolutely set about launching the message-bottle into the ocean again.
“Ya see, Sniff’” he waxed philosophical, “the mistake I made, I didn’t use my noodle. Ya gotta think things out all the way before you do somethin’, especially somethin’ important like I’m doin’ now. But now I figur’d out what I’m gonna do before I throw the bottle in the water. This time I’m gonna wait until the big, monster wave comes in, and goes out again, then throw the bottle in the water. Okay, I’m ready, Sniff’. Watch now. This is gonna be unbelievable.”
Sniff’ barked excitedly back up at Able. He didn’t know exactly what he was saying, but it sounded good to him, and that’s all that mattered.
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