Life Under the Owl Slide - A Memoir by Dab Howlter

Chapter 1: Howlter Madhouse

Can you hear them too, or am I going insane?
Sorry.. that's kind of a weird note to start on. I'm Dab, Dab Howlter. Yes, my name is... rather different. I know. The kids at school have made that rather clear.
I like it, though. It's unique. All the great artists are. That's what I aspire to be - an artist. To use my creativity and imagination in everyday life, to inspire people. That's what I wish to do.

My father, Dil (yup, another odd name), is a scientist, and a bit of a mad one at that. One weekend, when we went bowling with the Pancakes family (they live across the street), he just went nuts and started to use a ray gun (that he invented) to freeze everyone in the bowling alley where they stood. There's also stories of him setting people's beds on fire, and controlling people's minds to make them change into their swimwear.
My mother tells me he used to be a Mixologist, which is a bartender of sorts, I guess. He still makes drinks daily, even in the morning. Maybe that explains his behavior... I don't know.

As for my mother, Tabitha... I'm not sure what she does. Something with computers. That brings us back to Them. The voices I was talking about in the beginning. I've heard them call Mom "the next big thing" several times.. whatever that means. But who are they?
I hear them all the time. The voices come from above. Two people, both with accents, talking to each other. In the sky. Talking about us.
Does that sound crazy to you? My friend Evan thinks I'm going mad. Am I the only one who can hear them? I'm not sure.

Sometimes, I think my father can hear them too. Occasionally I'll just see him staring at a wall or out a window, seemingly talking to himself. Or.... to someone else? Could he be able to speak to them? I have no idea. Maybe. Could he just be talking to someone outside? More likely.

And then there's my little brother. Well.. half brother, anyway. My father and I may be a bit.. odd.. but we're nothing compared to him. His name is Dalien - a combination of my father's name, Dil, and yes, you guessed it - alien. My father was abducted by extra-terrestrials shortly after my  birthday. Of course, you may have heard that my mother was abducted several times prior to that - and yes, you're right. But out of those three or four incidents, none of them turned out like this one. She just came back a little dazed.
My father? He came back pregnant. With an alien child.

It's been kind of hectic in the Howlter house since Dalien was born. I still haven't grown used to him. I didn't even want him in the first place!
Evan always tells me I should just give him a chance, and learn to be a good older brother. But he doesn't have any siblings, let alone one from another planet. What could he know? Evan spends half his days bent over his chemistry set taking notes and inhaling noxious fumes anyway. He wants to be a chemist or a scientist when he grows up, and that's great and all, but that stuff can seriously go to your head. Sometimes I worry for him.

I see art as a better alternative to all of that. I like to draw all different things. I draw the things around me, like my stuffed dragon or my family or the monster under my bed. I draw shapes and geometric patterns. Sometimes I'll even draw something as random as a shrimp boat. It depends on how I'm feeling, and where my imagination takes me.

-- CHAPTER TWO COMING SOON --