Forest Guardians Chronicles: A Matter of Humanity, Beth Roose [best motivational books for students .txt] 📗

park system. The Forest Guardians tried to gather local tribes together and destroy all of them, but they were unsuccessful. The Pukwudgie tribe forgot to put the poison on their light arrows and without the poison, they only were able to take down eight of the twelve drones. When the light arrows hit them, they evaporated. The Queen and her remaining four minion drones left and escaped to lick their wounds. The Queen found her way back to Morgan’s lab and threatened not only his life, but those humans within the park boundaries. Fortunately, he was able to restore her, but then, she brought one of the injured drones in for him to cure. Morgan has that drone in hibernation now at his lab.” Mr. Garman paused, allowing Dr. Mottice to retain and digest all of this new information. Mr. Garman continued, “We think we have a plan and a formula to reverse the effect. We need a piece of a meteorite to complete the formula and that is why I am in New York. I am meeting Myles Masterson to exhume his great great grandfather, Bat Masterson.”

Excited at the name, Dr. Mottice asked curiously, “you mean, the infamous Wild West lawman with Wyatt Earp. Isn’t he the one that carried a cane and wore a bowler hat?”

Surprised at his friend’s knowledge, Mr. Garman responded lightly. “Yes, Jim. I did not know you followed the Wild West stories!” Admitting the truth, Dr. Mottice explained that he himself did not follow the Wild West stories, but his three children do. “They are all infatuated with the Wild West.” Dr. Mottice added. “So, with that, I was pulled into their obsession.” Dr. Mottice paused. “Alright, Philip. What time are we meeting Myles and where?” Mr. Garman, stunned by his friend’s invasive, yet kind invitation, attempted to politely decline Dr. Mottice’s offer to tag along, but stubborn as he was, Dr. Mottice refused to stay put. Finally accepting his offer to tag along, Mr. Garman tasked Dr. Mottice with determining how much of the gemstone they would need in order to make the formula work. With that, they phone Morgan to ask a few questions.

The pair hung up the phone after discussing the plan in detail with Morgan. “We have a lot of guesswork to do here.” said Dr. Mottice.

“Well,” Mr. Garman began, “I trust your guess work more than most guaranteed work. I know you will try your best. I feel with what you know … well, you will shave the correct amount off that gemstone, I just know it.” Mr. Garman beamed happily at his friend.

Dr. Mottice smiled back grateful for a friend like Mr. Garman. “You are the best cheerleader I have ever had! Let’s grab lunch at the deli and talk over a few more things. Sound good?” Dr. Mottice asked Mr. Garman. Strolling down the street, Dr. Motticed inhaled deeply. “Ahh, there is nothing like a New York Deli. The cold cut meats and cheeses, the freshly baked buns, the busy aroma. It is just so...New York!” exclaimed Dr. Mottice. The pair headed down the street together, into the local deli shop, and chatted in harmony over a classic New York City-style lunch.

When Philip and Jim arrived at Woodlawn Cemetery, they saw a backhoe already digging. Instantly, they knew it had to be the grave of Bat Masterson. Mr. Garman spotted Myles from afar, and he and Dr. Mottice rushed to Myles’s side. “Mr. Garman,” Myles greeted, “how are you?”

Mr. Garman patted his new friend on the back. “Fine, simply fine, Myles.” Myles introduced Mr. Garman and Dr. Mottice to the gemologist, Chief of Police, funeral director, and the coroner. “Myles,” Dr. Garman said, pointing to his old friend, “I would like you to meet Dr. James Mottice from Beth Israel Hospital. He is their chief researcher in DNA.” Both Myles and Dr. Mottice nodded at each other.

Myles continued, “they are just about ready to bring up the vault with the coffin inside.” Dr. Mottice paused and looked at the boy standing next to him. “Myles, has anyone explained to you how your grandfather will look after all this time?” Myles looked to Dr. Mottice and replied, “Thanks, Doctor. No one has explained anything to me, but I did look it up on YouTube. So, I think I am as prepared as I am going to be.” Mr. Garman looked over to Dr. Mottice and shook his head back and forth signaling to him that he did not think he would be able to handle it.

The crypt was up and beside the hole. Using crowbars, it took three men to push the top off. The funeral director stepped forward and pulled out a special tool from his suit coat pocket. He popped open the lid of the coffin and stood staring inside of it. Everyone walked up to the coffin slowly and stared inside at the skeleton of Bat still in his tuxedo with his bowler hat on. Dr. Garman gasped. “Where is his cane?!” he exclaimed.

The Police Chief asked if he could move his jacket and when he did, there was note that fell out of Bat’s tuxedo pocket. The Chief opened it, carefully examining the writing, and handed it to Myles. Dr. Garman kept staring at Bat in exasperation, knowing that his plan would never work. Myles broke out laughing, “Well, everyone, Grandpa Bat somehow knew something was up.” Tears of laughter streaming down his face, Myles proceeded to read the note. “Hello, Myles. I wish I were there to see your face. Tell Philip it will all work out, and tell Doctor Jim I wish I could have met his boys.” Everyone stood around the skeleton with their mouths open while Myles laughed. Jim walked over to him and put his hand on his shoulder as did the funeral director. They both knew he was in shock.

Dr. Mottice looked back at Mr. Garman, who was standing by himself and on his phone. He walked over