The Peregrines

Chapter 27

{I made the pic edit}

{ Edited - 27th Oct, 2020 }
{ Edited - 25th April, 2024 }

"A what?" said Jake.

"Go on, show them!" someone said.

Claire succumbed to the pressure from everyone at the table and decided to eat something. In order to silence them, she reluctantly took a bite of the leg of the goose that was placed in front of her. As she leaned back in her chair, she firmly held onto the chair's arms and tilted her head towards the plate. I distinctly heard a smacking sound, and when she raised her head, a substantial chunk had vanished from the goose leg. Surprisingly, hidden beneath her beautiful golden hair was a pair of jaws filled with sharp teeth.

Claire shifted her gaze ahead and folded her arms, feeling frustrated that she had allowed herself to be convinced to participate in such an embarrassing display. She remained quiet as the rest bombarded Jake and me with inquiries.

Once Miss Peregrine had answered a few more questions regarding Jake's grandfather, the children shifted their focus to different topics. They appeared particularly curious about what life was like in the twenty-first century.

"What sort of flying motorcars do you have?" A young boy named Horace inquired, dressed in a dark suit that gave him the appearance of a trainee undertaker.

"None," I said. "Not yet, anyway."

"Have they built cities on the moon?" another boy asked hopefully.

"We left some garbage and a flag there in the sixties, but that's about it," said Jake.

"Does Britain still rule the world?"

"Uh . . . not exactly."

They seemed disappointed. Sensing an opportunity, Miss Peregrine said, "You see, children? The future isn't so grand after all. Nothing wrong with the good old here and now!" It seemed like she always attempted to make them understand this, but it never really worked. However, it made me curious: How long has everyone stayed in this loop for? Quick calculation, in the present, it is the 15th of June, 2016. The loop is stuck on the 3rd of September, 1940... That's a rough 69-year difference... Yikes!

"Do you mind if I ask how old you all are?" Jake said.

"I'm eighty-three," said Horace.

"I'll be eighty-four and a half next week," said Olive.

"I'm either one hundred seventeen or one hundred eighteen," said a heavy-lidded boy named Enoch. He looked no more than 17. "I lived in another loop before this one," he explained.