This is a story about a boy named Noah, who helped save the space-time continuum and restore order to the fabric of time.

It all begins on a Saturday, a wet and windy Saturday, in October to be exact. No-one can quite remember the time, but it was definitely the afternoon, the big tree in the back garden was casting a   dark shadow on the lawn. It always did that when the sun moved into the right position.

Noah was eleven years old. That awkward age when toys are too childish but the thought of not having them scares you. Eleven was also the age when you went to secondary school, which was a terrifying thought to Noah. He often tried to forget this was happening, which was quite easy to do really, as the six-week summer holidays had just began, and the thought of school was so far away it might as well never come.

Noah didn't hate school, he didn't get bullied nor was he a bad student, it was just the thought of moving into the unknown which made him nervous. Noah didn't like change much. He didn't even like the fact that he was growing at an alarming rate every summer. He had grown so much in the last year, he had to get three new sizes trousers for school. He was tall for his age. He had very messy blond hair too, which was impossible to tame ( much to the dismay of his mother), and his eyes were sky blue, with greenish tinge. His mother called him handsome, which was news to Noah, as he felt his face was far too round to be 'normal' and his arms were very gangly, like an orang-utan. Noah felt his body parts were all growing at different rates. This made the thaought of high school even more unnerving, going to class in September looking like a pantomime version of Frankenstein s monster.

Noah normally loved Saturdays, but the fact it wasn't special this week took the edge of it. He had been off all week, and even though it was the first week of the holidays, he was officially bored. His best friend Alfie had been whisked away on a family holiday...