by Lavie Tidhar
“But Mr Farnsworth!” I said. I couldn’t help myself.
“Farnsworth? Farnsworth!” he said. “Don’t you worry about him, little girl. He’s nothing but a joke.” There was no more warmth in him any more, if there ever was. “I don’t like jokes,” he complained. “I never get them.”
He saw my face. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It will all be over soon. It’s just a formality, really. Just a matter of doing the paperwork.”
“Paperwork?” I said.
“The title deeds,” he said. “I just need that awful Farnsworth man to sign them over to me. Which he will, just as soon as I find him … but like I said, little girl, don’t you worry about that.”
Then he smiled, a practised public smile with little kindness in it. “Here,” he said. He handed me a button with his face on it and a legend that said, Thornton for Mayor. “Does your mommy vote? You’ll give it to her, won’t you? Remember, always eat your greens, and Vote Thornton!”
He patted me on the head and then glided away, already forgetting me, our conversation, the minor irritant I must have seemed to him.
I stood there, watching him go. I stared at the model of the proposed new development where the chocolate factory still stood.
So this was what it was all about. He was going to make Mr Farnsworth sign over the factory – he was going to force him to!
I swore right then that I wouldn’t let him get away with it.
There had to be a way to bring him down.
28
I ran. Outside I could hear the police siren as Tidbeck and Webber sped away from the mansion and down the hill. I needed a telephone! I kept running into grown-ups as their party was winding down. I finally found Waffles upstairs.
“Waffles! Where’s the phone?”
“Hey, Nelle, have you seen Foxglove? Only he’s disappeared and no one can find him.” He looked really distressed. “Nothing really works without him.”
“Forget Foxglove!” I said. “Where’s the telephone?”
“There’s one over there,” he said, pointing. I ran to it, picked up the receiver, started dialling Bobbie’s number. The wheel dial went whirr … whirr … and I said, “Come on, come on!” until at last I had dialled all the digits and the phone made a dialling tone.
It rang a few times but at last someone answered.
“Hello?”
“Mrs Singh! I thought you were in hospital.”
“Nelle! I was.” Even over the phone it sounded like she was smiling. “I couldn’t keep away, seeing what trouble my two boys got themselves into.”
“I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Is Bobbie home?”
“It’s nice of you to call,” she said. I heard her calling beyond the phone. “Bobbie? It’s Nelle!”
He came on the phone. “Hey, Nelle.”
“Hey, Bobbie. Listen, Tidbeck and Webber are on their way over to you. I think they were the ones who burned down your store. You need to get out!”
“I don’t care about that any more,” he said. “I’m out of the candy biz, Nelle. I’m out for good.”
“And after that they’re coming for me!” I said.
“Then just stay out of their way,” he said. “What do you want from me, Nelle? I told you, I quit the game.”
“Is that what it is?” I said, angry. “Just a game?”
“Of course it isn’t!” I could hear him breathing. “My place was burned down. My dad nearly got killed. It’s not worth it, Nelle. Give it up! Walk away. You keep poking your nose into things that don’t concern you. You could get hurt.”
My hands balled into fists. I felt furious. After everything, to be warned away by Bobbie was just too much.
Then I realized how much scared he was, and my fingers relaxed and I said, “I’m sorry.”
“Nelle … it isn’t your fault,” he said gently.
“I know it isn’t, Bobbie!” I said. He was quiet, on the line.
I said, “You know I can’t stop now.”
He hesitated.
“I know,” he said.
Then he said, “You better go. I think I can see them coming.”
I cycled down Sternwood Drive as fast as I could. I’d bought myself some time but I had to find Mr Farnsworth somehow – I had to warn him! I reached home and jumped off my bike and went into my bedroom to pack up essentials. I was going to find out the truth.
The house was dark. My mom was out. I was all alone.
Back in my room I put on dark clothes and comfortable shoes and packed a flashlight. I was on my way out the door again when I caught a glimpse of something shiny under the table. I kneeled down to look, then picked it up.
I stared at it.
It rested in the palm of my hand.
It was a shiny glass marble.
His little head poked out of the door when I knocked and when he saw me he smiled with that same trusting smile he always gave me. I waited as Cody stepped out into the yard between our houses.
“Hey, Nelle,” he said.
“Hey, Cody.”
“What you got there, Nelle?”
“It’s a marble, Cody.”
“I like marbles,” he said.
“I know.”
He looked at me, with those eyes full of trust.
“Why did you do it, Cody?” I said.
“Do what, Nelle?”
“Steal Eddie’s teddy,” I said.
His little face fell and he looked at me almost in reproach, as though I’d hurt him.
“I didn’t steal it,” he said.
“Come on, Cody.”
“I didn’t! I was just … it was so lonely just sitting there on the shelf, in the playground, and I didn’t think anyone would mind.”
“Wait,” I said. “You stole it from the playground first?”
“Well … yeah.”
This wasn’t what I had expected at all.
“So you just took it?”
“Yeah. It was easy.”
He looked down at his feet.
His confession took me by surprise. But, thinking about it, things suddenly made a lot of sense.
“I didn’t think anyone would mind,” he mumbled.
“But people did,” I said. “Lots of people did.”
“Yeah. I told Eddie! I gave it back to him.”
“You did?” This was not what I was expecting, either. Little Cody was just full of surprises.
“Sure. But then he got worried and I think he went to your house and left it for you. I think he figured it was safer that way. He had to go away for a while.”
“And then, what, you came in to my house and took it again?” I said.
“I had to, Nelle! I had to look after it. I didn’t think you’d mind, really.”
“Well, you dropped your marble when you came in,” I said.
“You keep it,” he said. “Here.” He took out a handful of marbles from his pocket and put them in my hand. I didn’t know what to say. I put them in my pocket so as not to hurt his feelings.
“I’m so sorry,” Cody said. “I never meant to—”
“I know,” I said. “I know.”
Abruptly he gave me a hug. I held him in my arms, feeling how little he was.
“It’s all right, Cody” I said awkwardly. I stroked his hair.
He released me and again gave me that beaming, trusting smile.
“I was just keeping it safe,” he said.
“Can you get it for me?” I said.
“Sure.”
He went inside and when he came back he was holding the teddy.
I took the bear from Cody. It stared at me affectionately with its one good eye.
It was the Farnsworth teddy bear, all right.
I hugged it close to my chest.
“You’ll look after him, won’t you?” Cody said.
“I will, I promise,” I said.
“OK, then,” he said, and he looked relieved. “Eddie did say I shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Eddie said that? When?”
“After I took it.”
“After you took it the first time, or the second time, Cody?”
He looked at me in confusion. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does, Cody!”
“The second time. After Eddie gave it to you to look after.”
“But … you mean you spoke to Eddie after he’d disappeared?”
“Sure. I mean…”
He just shrugged. I took hold of him by the shoulders and held him gently, but not so gently that he could escape if he wanted to. “Listen to me carefully, Cody,” I said. “Where is Eddie?”
He glanced up and I followed his gaze. He was looking towards the hill. And I knew then that my hunch had been right all along. That Eddie would be hiding in the one place no one would go looking for him.
In the chocolate factory.
But I had gone round it, and the whole place was locked tighter than a prison, the gates closed and the walls high and no way in…
I stared into Cody’s eyes.
“How, exactly, do you get into the chocolate factory?” I said.
He smiled, like it was obvious, and he was only wondering why I’d ever needed to ask.
“Through the sewage pipes,” he said.
29
“Ewww!” I said.
We were somewhere down the hill. The vast open mouths of cylindrical copper pipes jutted out of the hillside. They emerged into the air above our heads. A trickle of dirty sewage water dribbled down and joined the flow of other pipes. The water ran out and down to the sea. The smell was disgusting: it was like rancid butter and boiled fat and dirty diapers, spoiled eggs and burned carpet and vomit and cheese.
There were … bits, floating in the water.
I tried not to see what they were.
“I thought…” I said, trying to talk while holding my nose. “I thought the factory was closed.”
“Yeah?” Cody said.
“So why is there … stuff coming out of the pipes?” I said.
Cody shrugged. I looked at the water coming out of the pipe. It had an oily sheen. The other pipes were for domestic waste. There were no other factories nearby.
“Come on,” Cody said. He began to climb. There were grey-white stones set into the steep slope, and he held on to them and used them to propel himself up.
He moved quickly and easily. I followed reluctantly.
The smell changed when we reached the main pipe. It still smelled bad but it was more familiar. It had hints of cocoa butter and coconut and ground coffee beans. The water was only in the bottom of the pipe and it was a light brown colour.
It was dark inside the pipe. I held the flashlight and followed Cody.
In moments, the light of the moon disappeared, and the mouth of the pipe was gone as though it had never existed. It was very dark, and I could hear things moving through the water ahead of us. Cody’s little face looked anxious but he led the way. As we progressed deeper into the hillside, the pipe curved and it became harder to walk. I tried to hold on to the walls but they were slimy, and I said, “Ewwww!” again, and hurriedly wiped my hands on my jeans.
“Shhh!” Cody said. He stopped and stood still, and I froze beside him.
“What?”
“Shhh!”
I listened. Then I heard it.
At first I mistook it for the beating of my heart. But then I realized the sound was real.
DUM.
It vibrated through the pipe. It rang up through the soles of my feet and travelled up my legs.
DUM.
The sounds travelled down the pipe and made the water tremble and shake, and when I pointed the flashlight down, it showed me my own reflection shivering in the circles of water.
DUM.
DUM.
DUM.
DUM.
Then it was over, as suddenly as it began. The silence returned but there was something terrifying about it, worse than the sound of the—
DUM.
“It was just the pipe,” I said, trying to convince myself.
DUM.
“A machine thumping on the pipe or—”
DUUUUUMMM!
I jumped. The sound reverberated through the pipe and made my teeth hurt. The water splashed and shook violently.
“We have to go back!” Cody said.
“We can’t!” I said. “Cody, let’s go. Take my hand.”
“No, Nelle. Come back with me—”
DUM DUM DUM DUUUUUMMM!
I couldn’t stop him. I didn’t want to. Cody bolted, back the way we’d come. I shouted after him but the sound of my voice was swallowed in the increasing din.
“Oh, no!” I said, out loud.
DUM! DUM! DUM! CRACK!
I looked down at my feet. The water level was rising. The flow was increasing rapidly.
I began to run. Not back. Ahead. I had to, even though I knew it was crazy to do it. I ran through the pipe as fast as I could, my feet landing in the rapidly-rising water. The thrumming of the pipe intensified. It was all around me, and the distant hum was that of machinery: the CLANG-THWAK-WHIRR of giant engines.
They were coming alive.
I heard the roar of distant water. My feet SPLISH-SPLASH-SPLOSHED. The flashlight fell from my fingers and was lost in the current. The water was up to my knees, and rising.
The walls were slimy and there was nothing to hold on to.
The rush of the water came closer and closer. I pushed forward helplessly. I wasn’t going back. I couldn’t.
The water rushed towards me. It would pick me up and throw me like a rag doll: like garbage. It would slam me against the sides of the pipe and push me back, back along the sewage pipe, all the way to the ocean.
But I couldn’t give up.
Then I saw it.
A glimmer of light ahead. I pushed forward faster now.
There!
The pipe split into two sections in the distance. Two dark mouths waiting – but I thought I saw a weak, flickering light just coming through in the distance inside one of them. I pushed against the water, breathing hard. The water wasn’t cold but it felt slimy and gross. Floating in the water were broken coconut shells, torn burlap sacks, bits of string. Everything smelled of oily, rancid butter.
I wasn’t going to make it.
Everything became about the next step, and the next, and the next.
DUM.
DUM.
DUM.
DUM.
CRACK!
I dove.
There was water in my eyes and in my hair and I couldn’t see. I was lost in a dark river, and for a moment I didn’t know which way was up, which way was down. Then I opened my eyes, and the glimmer of light was still ahead, through the left pipe, and I kicked and my foot connected with the wall and slid but I pushed, my arms reached out and swept back – and I was suddenly free.
I fell through water into cool blessed air. I flopped down on the floor of the pipe as the flow of water grew to a roar, and a flood burst through the right-hand pipe, entirely flooding the place where I had just been. I scrabbled away but I was higher than the water, and I was safe: just very wet, and very sore.
I lay there like a landed fish and watched the water surging through the pipe. I heard the clang and thrum and beat of engines coming alive, some in the distance, some closer by.
And I realized the factory was waking up all around me.
After three long years, it was coming alive.
I pushed myself up and looked ahead, where the light beckoned. I walked to the end of the tunnel. It must have been an engineer’s path, to access the sewers. I knew I was close, then, close to the heart of it all.
At the end of the tunnel was a small, ordinary wooden door.
I pushed it open.
30
I emerged into starlight and a warm wind on my back. The door I came through was set into a large square brick building. The sign on the door said, Sewage Treatment – No Unauth
orized Access in faded script.
I was somewhere at the back of the factory. I could just see the side-gate entrance in the distance, and two loaders rusting in the open air.
The outer buildings were dark: but in the centre of the factory grounds stood the largest building of them all, a vast and imposing brick cube with small windows set high up. A blazing light shone out of them, illuminating the sky, almost erasing the moon entirely with its radiance.
It was the manufacturing floor, the heart of the chocolate factory.
It was where the magic happened.
I walked towards it, drawn to the light. I felt the hum of machinery under my feet, a constant thrum that reverberated through the ground.
As I walked I saw the whole of the factory spread around me, the vast block-like buildings that had sprung up and been added to over the years since the first small shack (or so the story was always told me) was built at the back of the Farnsworth house, all that time ago. It was the story of humble beginnings, of a simple love of chocolate somehow transformed into a business empire. The truth was probably a little different. These buildings were old, they were built to last.
This had always been a factory.
Far in the distance were the main gates, and before them was the great courtyard, where the workers assembled every morning. It was the size of a football field, and it was empty. Nothing moved and nothing breathed.
Nothing but me.
I walked to the main building. I tried the doors but they were closed. I circled it, feeling the intensity of the machines inside rise, the thrum of power under my feet, in my teeth, on my tongue. It made my hair stand on end.
Then I found the side entrance. I tried the door.
It opened.
Somehow, I knew that it would.
I stepped inside.
And on to the main production floor.
The ceiling rose high overhead.
Underneath it, I felt as small as though I were standing in a vast cathedral. The light shone down and everywhere I looked, I saw the machines.
Alive now.
Burping and warbling, shaking and rattling.
Mixers and centrifuges, roasters and temperers and refiners and kibblers, ovens and coolers and coaters and wrappers!
The machines churned out chocolate. Perfect blocks plopped down on to the assembly lines and ran on to the far end, where they were automatically wrapped and packed, and the boxes were piled high against the wall.
