Charlie Bone and the Blue Boa

by Jenny Nimmo

  "Wow! My favorite. Thanks, Charlie."

  It was hard to see what was happening, but Charlie felt the jar being tugged out of his hand — and disappearing. "Ollie, I've got some good news," he said. "We've found a way to make you appear. But, somehow you'll have to get out of the building. Emma made this to cover your toe. Here . . . it's a spider."

  Ollie gave a low chuckle and the spider was taken out of Charlie's hand. "This'll be very useful, but I'm not going out while I'm still invisible. Where would I go?"

  Charlie gave him Miss Ingledew's address. "It's close to the cathedral, and she'll look after you until . . . well, until you're cured."

  "How will I be cured?" asked Ollie suspiciously.

  Charlie realized he would have to mention the boa. He described Billy's strange disappearing and reappearing act. "It'll work, trust me," said Charlie.

  "The boa?" squeaked Ollie. "No way It'll finish me off."

  "But you are finished," said Charlie, "in a way. I mean, being invisible is a pretty miserable existence, isn't it? Don't you want to go home to your parents? Think about it. Don't you want your brother to see you as a real, whole boy?"

  There was a long silence, then a sigh, and Ollie's voice came floating out of the dark again. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I do."

  Charlie felt guilty about mentioning Mr. Boldova — or Samuel Sparks. For a moment he thought of telling Ollie the truth, that they didn't really know where his brother was. But when he spoke Ollie's name there was no reply and he realized the invisible boy must have drifted away

  I hope he gets out, thought Charlie. Or it'll all be for nothing.

  Cook carried the hamper back to her secret room behind the kitchen. When she got there, she stood on a chair and opened the skylight in her low-beamed ceiling.

  "Hm. It'll just about fit," she said to herself.

  Three pairs of glowing eyes looked down from the darkness above her.

  “Ah, there you are," she said. "Good cats. I've got a package for you. Here it comes," and she lifted the hamper up through the skylight.

  Any sleepless citizen, glancing through their window that starry morning, would have seen a strange sight indeed. Three large cats were running through the empty streets: one yellow one orange, and one a wild copper-red. Their fur was touched with fiery gold and their whiskers flashed like silver. Each cat held in its mouth the end of a leather strap and behind them they pulled a wheeled wicker basket. What could it contain? A stolen baby? Priceless jewels? Or a feast for a party? No one would have guessed the truth.

  The bright creatures ran through the town until they reached a green door at the end of a narrow alley The door opened and a very small man appeared.

  "Well done, my beauties," said Mr. Onimous. "Now let's have a look at your treasure!"

  CHAPTER 17

  OLLIE AND THE BOA

  To make his escape from Bloor's Academy, Ollie chose a door that not many children knew about.

  Before the novelty of being invisible had worn off, Ollie had used the freedom it gave him to indulge his insatiable curiosity One night he had discovered the back door. But it was locked, and even had it not been, he wouldn't have left the building. It was dark for one thing, and for another, where would he have gone?

  This door was situated at the back of the green kitchen, where Mr. Weedon's wife, Bertha, held sway When Bertha wasn't cooking, she would sit in a worn armchair, reading thrillers. She was especially fond of Agatha Christie's novels. But even when she appeared to be totally engrossed in her book, Bertha Weedon would have half an eye on the door. She liked to know exactly who was coming in and going out.

  Outside the door there was a small yard for trash-cans. The garbage collectors made a big fuss about these cans, and why shouldn't they? To reach the street, they had to wheel the huge cans up a steep ramp and then through two tall iron-studded gates.

  All the deliveries came through these gates and down the ramp or by a set of stone steps favored by the mailman, who had once slid from top to bottom down the ramp. (A moldy banana had been blamed.)

  On Tuesday morning, Ollie made his way down to the green kitchen. Emma's spider fit his right toe perfectly and he enjoyed watching it leap ahead of him whenever he put his right foot forward.

  The academy was unusually quiet, and Ollie thought no one else was awake — until he reached the green kitchen. Mrs. Weedon stood by the back door while the fishmonger and his assistant staggered through with large trays of frozen fish.

  "In there! In there!" shouted Mrs. Weedon, pointing to the huge freezer. “And be quick about it."

  Ollie waited until the two men were sliding their trays into the freezer, and then he took his chance. As he moved his right foot over the threshold, Mrs. Weedon spotted the spider and — BANG — she stepped on it.

  "OUCH!" squealed Ollie, and almost without thinking, he brought up his left foot and kicked Mrs. Weedon where it hurt most.

  ”YIKES!" yelled Mrs. Weedon.

  "What's going on?" said the fishmonger, whose name was Crabb.

  "Blasted spider — it's getting away!" shrieked Mrs. Weedon. "Get it — quick — I'm out of breath!"

  "You're joking," said Mr. Crabb genially

  "I am NOT!" cried the irate woman. "I'm injured."

  "No, I mean you're joking about the spider," said Mr. Crabb.

  "I am NOT!" yelled Mrs. Weedon. "GET IT!"

  "What — a little spider?" said Mr Crabb incredulously

  "It's not LITTLE! It's got a mean kick," screamed Mrs. Weedon.

  "I see," said Mr. Crabb rather more seriously "Come on, Brian. Let's get going."

  The two fishmongers climbed the stone steps a lit— tie faster than usual, but not fast enough to see a large spider leap through the iron gates and bounce its way up the street.

  Ollie hadn't been outside the academy for more than a year. He couldn't help making a few little skips and jumps as he hurried through the city He was free. The sun was up and the dome of the huge cathedral shone in the early light.

  "I'm out!" sang Ollie. "Out forever. And soon I'll be me!"

  When he reached the cathedral he gazed up at the ancient building, awed by its height and the crowds of stone creatures that stared out from the great arched doorway

  "I'm free!" Ollie shouted.

  There was no one around, so he danced over the cobbled square singing, "Soon I'll be me, me, ME!"

  Sunlight showed him a small window where large leather-bound books were displayed against a red velvet curtain. "Ingledew's," said Ollie, reading the name above the door. He ran across and rang the bell.

  A woman looked out from a second-floor window She stared at the space where Ollie stood. Even at that distance she could see the large black spider her niece had made just a few days ago.

  "Ollie?" she said.

  "Hello!" said Ollie. "Yes. It's me."

  "Wait there. I'll be down in a second," said Miss Ingledew.

  A moment later the door opened with a pleasant tinkling sound, and Miss Ingledew appeared in a blue bathrobe. She had a smiling, pretty face, and Ollie immediately felt at ease.

  "Come in, Ollie," said Miss Ingledew, addressing the spider, for there was nothing else she could see.

  Ollie stepped down into the shop and gazed around at the shelves of books; they looked very interesting with their rich, mellow covers and gold-tooled spines. "What a great place!" he said.

  "Thank you," said Miss Ingledew She glanced anxiously around the room and found the spider crouching by the counter. "I expect you'd like some breakfast."

  "Would I!" sighed Ollie. "Have you got any jam?"

  "Plenty Emma asked me to get some for you. But perhaps you'd like bacon and eggs as well."

  "Bacon and eggs!" Ollie cried gleefully "I haven't had anything hot for more than a year."

  "My goodness," said Miss Ingledew. "We must correct that at once."

  "And after breakfast can I be cured?" said Ollie. "Can I see the blue boa, and will he make me appear ag
ain?"

  "I think we'd better leave that for tonight," said Miss Ingledew. "The city is very crowded during the day and I wouldn't like you to be crushed or — or lost."

  "Nor me," said Ollie. "OK. Tonight, then. Now could I please have some of that jam?"

  While Ollie was eating his first hot meal for many a month, the children and staff at Bloor's Academy were just waking up.

  As he made his way down to breakfast, Charlie observed an air of embarrassment among the teachers who hurried past him. It was even more apparent in the dining hall, when the staff climbed four steps and took their places around the High Table, in full view of the rest of the school.

  Dr. Bloor kept clearing his throat, as if he were about to make an announcement. But not a word passed his lips. He looked pretty bad. His gray hair had a stiff surprised look, and his face was very pale, for him.

  The embarrassed, sheepish look appeared to have spread through the school. It had been an extraordinary night and yet no one wanted to discuss it. The truth was that most people were either ashamed of their cowardice or, like Dr. Bloor, humiliated by their failure to stop the invasion of such terrifying and unnatural activity

  The strange atmosphere lasted all day Teachers couldn't look their pupils in the eye. Children glanced quickly at one another and then looked away Everyone moved very swiftly not in any way eager to get where they were going but rather to escape whatever might be behind them.

  Charlie guessed it was like having a bomb in the building. No one knew where it was or when it would go off. Things finally came to a head in the King's room after dinner.

  Tancred was the spark, if you can call it that. Although he was tired after such an energetic night, no one could help noticing that he looked rather pleased with himself.

  Charlie had good reason to look pleased, but he knew it would be dangerous to show it.

  The eleven endowed children were sitting in their usual places around the table when Tancred's expression became too much for Belle to bear.

  "Take that smirk off your face, Tancred Torsson!" she said. "You think your little breezes are so clever, but you're nothing, NOTHING!"

  "Is that so?" said Tancred, his grin growing broader. "Well, I honestly don't know why you bother to wear that pretty face anymore. We all know what you're really like, you old hag!"

  A shocked gasp of horror rippled around the table, and Asa leaped up, snarling, "Take that back, you brute!"

  "Feeling brave now are you, you mini-beast?" Tancred taunted.

  Asa was about to spring across the table when Manfred grabbed him by the back of his collar. "Shut up, everyone!" he shouted. "Torsson, apologize!"

  "Me? Why should I?"

  "She started it," said Lysander in a reasonable tone.

  "You heard me," growled Manfred. "I mean it, Torsson. You're not too clever to be punished, you know. APOLOGIZE!"

  "Forget it!" Tancred tossed his shock of electrified hair. As far as wind was concerned, he had kept things remarkably calm, but now not to be boring, he sent out some new weather. A few raindrops pattered onto the table, and everyone pulled their books onto their laps.

  "Pitter patter," sneered Zelda Dobinski. "It's pathetic. Call that rain?"

  Everyone wished she hadn't said that. The next minute the small black cloud that had been floating near the ceiling suddenly burst and a torrent of water poured onto their heads. It filled their eyes, drenched their clothes, and soaked their books.

  "Stupid boy!" said Belle in a deep and dreadful voice. "Who do you think you are?"

  Half-blinded by the deluge, Charlie saw something he hoped never to see again. Belle's pretty features turned brown and doglike. Two ears sprouted from her head and two huge hairless wings began to spread out from her shoulders. Belle was turning into a giant bat.

  The bat raised its naked wings and, with a bloodcurdling screech, it launched itself at Tancred who cried, “Yikes!" and dived beneath the table. So did everyone else — except Asa, who sat watching the bat with a look of rapt adoration.

  The grotesque creature began to hover around the room, its wings catching at bookshelves and pictures. The clock crashed to the floor, a whole row of books was sent flying, and then, as Charlie peered out from under the table, he saw the picture of the Red King swinging violently against the wall. Charlie leaped up and ran to catch the painting as it fell.

  "LEAVE IT!" thundered the awful bat voice.

  But Charlie couldn't bear to let the King fall. As he caught the heavy gold frame the bat made a dive toward him.

  It was Dr. Bloor who, inadvertently saved Charlie. The door suddenly swung open in front of him and the bat crashed into it. With a dreadful shriek, she dropped at the headmaster's feet.

  "Good heavens . . . what . . . who?" stuttered Dr. Bloor.

  "Idiot!" screamed the bat.

  "Oh. Is it . . .? I do hope I haven't . . .”

  "I'm not done for, don't you worry" screeched the bat. "You asked for my help, but you're not doing much to help yourselves, are you? You're letting them get away with it."

  To Dr. Bloor's great discomfort, the bat crawled up his cape until she reached his shoulder, and then she launched herself through the door, screaming, "Someone's in for a very nasty surprise."

  When the bat had gone, the headmaster shook his shoulders, straightened his cape, and addressed the children who were now crawling out from under the table. "The noise from this room is intolerable. Manfred, can't you keep things under control?"

  "Of course, sir," said Manfred turning a fierce red. "Circumstances exceptional, sir."

  "Good lord, you're all soaked!" Dr. Bloor observed.

  "Torsson," said Manfred.

  "Torsson, get a mop. The rest of you clean up this room. And BE QUIET!"

  When the headmaster swept out it was already eight o'clock, and the seniors had no intention of cleaning up the mess. Billy was excused because he was beginning to fall asleep. And Dorcas complained of a headache. The workforce dwindled to five.

  "It's always us, isn't it?" said Emma, rolling up her sleeves.

  "I wonder who's in for the nasty surprise," muttered Charlie.

  "I bet it won't be long before we find out," said Lysander.

  At half past eight, Miss Ingledew decided it was time to take Ollie to the Pets' Café. The streets would be empty and there would be no risk of him being walked into or knocked over. She had already made sure that all was ready at the café.

  "Ready as they'll ever be, my dear," said Mr. Onimous' soft voice over the phone.

  As Miss Ingledew locked the shop, she failed to notice a large bat hanging above the cathedral door.

  "I think it would be best if you held my hand," she told Ollie. "Would you mind? I don't want to lose you."

  "No, I don't mind," said Ollie. "You remind me of my mom a bit. It's been ages since I held her hand."

  Miss Ingledew was a little disconcerted to see her fingers disappear when Ollie's small hand clutched hers. But she told herself that she must expect this sort of thing now that she was part of Emma's strange world.

  They hurried up to the main road and then along to Frog Street, and although they didn't see the large bat fluttering in the shadows behind them, both Ollie and Miss Ingledew felt the slight tingle that people get at the back of the neck when they sense that something is not quite right behind them.

  Several times, Miss Ingledew looked over her shoulder, but it was a crafty bat and managed to disguise itself as a garbage bag caught on a lamppost, a shop sign, and a grimy windowsill. Mind you, a few people did see an extraordinarily large bat gliding past their windows. One man called the zoo and another the Pets' Rescue. But the size of bat they described was far too large to be believed. No such creature existed, they were told; it was probably a balloon, a kite, or, dare it be suggested, a result of bad eyesight.

  When Miss Ingledew and her invisible companion reached the Pets' Café, she rang the bell. The window was dark, and for one minute Ollie's heart plummeted. An
d then the door opened and he found himself looking at an extremely small man, and the man was looking him right in the eye. It was very comforting. Ollie had not been looked in the eye for such a long time. It set him on the road to feeling whole again.

  "This is Ollie," said Miss Ingledew holding up her disappeared fingers.

  "So it is," said Mr. Onimous. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Ollie. Come in, both!"

  Mr. Onimous led the way through the darkened café to a cozy kitchen at the back, where Ollie was surprised to see three bright cats sitting on a freezer, a yellow dog snoozing in a basket, and a very tall woman making pastry while a black rat watched from her shoulder.

  “Aha!" said the very tall woman, who had a very long nose. "The vanished one! Welcome, Ollie Sparks. I'm Onoria, dear. Mrs. Onimous." Her focus wandered a bit. She was obviously not as good as her husband at guessing where invisible people might be. But then she was a long way up.

  Ollie couldn't help wondering how a man so small had chosen a woman so tall to be his wife. In ordinary circumstances, Ollie would have asked. But these were not ordinary circumstances and instead he said, "Is it here — the boa?"

  "There it is, dear." Mrs. Onimous pointed to a large hamper quite close to her feet. "I've been singing to it. The poor thing hasn't had an easy life."

  "I wonder," Miss Ingledew said shyly "would it be possible to have a cup of tea before we . . . er . . . before it happens?"

  "What am I thinking of?" cried Mr. Onimous. "Manners, Orvil, manners. Sit down, my dear." He pulled out a chair and Miss Ingledew sat down gratefully

  Ollie said he would rather stand for the "cure." He thought the snake would find it easier that way "Can I see it now?" he asked.

  Mrs. Onimous lifted the lid of the hamper and Ollie beheld the dreadful boa that had once hugged him into invisibility It was not quite as he remembered it. The brilliant sapphire skin had faded, and now it was a soft, silvery blue. It appeared to have shrunk as well, and something in its expression seemed to imply a gentler, friendlier disposition.

  The snake's silvery head reared up suddenly and it chirped like a bird. Ollie stepped back.

  "It's a lovely creature, isn't it?" sighed Mrs. Onimous. "Do you take milk and sugar, dears?"