Everything was still. The afternoon California sunshine played through the branches and bushes surrounding the car. “This is very strange,” said the protector. “These bushes shouldn’t be here.” He pushed several buttons on the little remote control in his hand, then shook his head. “The readings I’m getting make no sense. They say the door didn’t move at all. But where did all these bushes come from?” Setting the remote aside, the protector tried to open his door. It was jammed shut by a huge bush. The protector heaved and shoved on the door, but it hardly moved. Finally, the protector rolled down the window, letting a shower of leaves and small branches into the car. With a good deal of grunting, he climbed out of the window and wriggled through the branches outside. George suddenly realized that the protector looked like an American again. He looked down at his hands, then at his face in the rear view mirror. He was back to normal. They must have been transformed back to themselves when they came through the transporter.
What do You think about George Brown And The Protector?
