Unleashed!

by J A Mawter

  ‘What?’ asked Bryce. He peered at the pie. ‘DJ. That’s cool. I wouldn’t mind being a DJ.’

  ‘He means Darcy Jacobs,’ said Clem. ‘This pie isn’t just for you, you guts.’ She flicked a handful of flour at Darcy so that his hair was streaked with white.

  Darcy shook his head, sending a mist of flour into the air and making Mio sneeze.

  ‘I’ll add water!’ threatened Clem. She grabbed a glass as she reached for the tap. ‘That’ll teach you.’

  ‘No!’ Darcy scampered behind Mio, using her as a shield.

  ‘What?’ Mio tried to move away. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘Don’t you know?’ said Clem. ‘Flour and water make glue.’

  While waiting for the pie to cook they cleaned up the mess. Mr Lark cleared his throat then asked, ‘Why don’t you set up another trap to catch the intruder? Then, you’ll know what they want.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Clem. ‘But we need to find a way to rescue the dog first.’

  Darcy squeezed his cloth into the washing-up water as he added, ‘Without being seen.’

  Bryce shuddered. ‘And without breaking the law. Don’t forget what Dad said—if I stuff up my probation he’ll disown me.’

  Mr Lark appeared to be lost in thought but finally he said, ‘You might have more luck catching your intruder, you know, than rescuing your dog.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Clem, but Mr Lark didn’t answer. When she looked into his eyes she realised that he wasn’t quite with them—his eyes were misted—as if he was somewhere else. Clem stayed silent. At times like this it was best to wait.

  Darcy went to speak but Mio held up a finger to shush him. After several seconds Mr Lark shook his head and looked around. His lips curved into a smile. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Sometimes my mind goes AWOL.’

  ‘What’s AWOL?’ asked Mio.

  ‘Absent without leave.’ Mr Lark blinked several times as he explained, ‘It’s an old army term.’

  Just then, the timer trrrringed, calling Mr Lark to the oven. He opened the door and sniffed. ‘What’s this remind you of?’ he asked, holding the pie out so fruity tendrils of steam teased the air.

  ‘Grandma Jacobs,’ said Clem, a half-smile on her lips.

  ‘Winter nights.’ Darcy crossed his arms to seal out the imaginary cold.

  ‘Sunday lunch,’ said Bryce and his eyes, too, misted over, ‘before Mum and Dad split up.’

  Mr Lark rested a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed it. Grabbing some bowls he served out the pie, adding a scoop of ice cream as he went. ‘My gran used to say, “Where there’s baking in the kitchen there’s love in the home.” Wise woman was my gran.’

  Bryce grabbed a spoon and scooped up a large chunk of pie. He chewed quickly, trying to stop his tongue from burning, but ended up having to gulp down the mouthful, at the same time fanning his mouth with his hand.

  Mio laughed as she spooned a tiny morsel into her mouth, smiling as it slid down. ‘Oishii!’ she said. ‘Delicious.’ And she meant it.

  Mr Lark beamed as he looked around his kitchen table and watched his pie disappear. ‘Why, thank you.’

  When plates had been licked clean and dishes washed it was time for the kids to go.

  ‘Thanks, Mr Lark,’ chorused Clem and Darcy.

  ‘Thanks heaps,’ said Bryce, wincing with the ‘th’ because the tip of his tongue had been scalded.

  Mio turned to Mr Lark and gave a little bow. ‘Arigatou,’ she said. ‘That was great.’

  Once in the back yard they hopped on their bikes and strapped on their helmets. ‘To the Freewheelers!’ Darcy held out his hand and the others jostled to form a ring.

  ‘The Freewheelers,’ echoed Bryce.

  ‘To freedom.’ Clem waited to be shouted down for breaking with tradition.

  Then Mio’s voice rang out, ‘To freedom.’

  Darcy and Bryce exchanged looks.

  ‘To freedom.’

  ‘Freedom.’

  ‘Let’s check out The Van on the way home,’ called Clem. She pulled away and headed towards the park. ‘See if we missed any clues.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  This time there was a note! But no ordinary note. This one was on grey paper which had been crisply folded and positioned against the jar.

  ‘It’s a bird,’ said Bryce. ‘Wonder why they left that?’

  ‘Not just any bird,’ said Mio, picking it up and holding it in the palm of her hand. ‘A crane. It’s origami.’ She looked puzzled as she spoke her thoughts out loud. ‘Now, who would send us a crane?’

  ‘What’s it mean?’ asked Clem.

  ‘In my country a crane is the symbol for good fortune and a long life.’ Mio squinted as she inspected the neat folds. ‘And colour is very important.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Clem as she reached for the bird. ‘What’s the deal with colour?’

  ‘Different colours mean different things. Red for passion, green for harmony, orange for energy, white for hope. That sort of thing. But grey…’ Mio’s voice rang out. ‘Grey means nothing.’

  A hush filled the van. Nothing?!

  Clem examined the crane closely then said, ‘Hey. There’s writing inside.’

  ‘Open it. Open it!’ Bryce waved his hands in excitement.

  ‘Hurry,’ urged Darcy.

  ‘All right, all right. I’m going as fast as I can.’ Clem tried to unfold the note but the paper tore. ‘Here,’ she said, handing it to Mio. ‘You do it.’

  Mio’s fingers prised open the paper, then she read out loud:

  ‘The Emperor and his hound,

  will not be found,

  where the strays no longer play.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Clem, flicking a curl round and round her fingers.

  ‘That makes two of us.’ Darcy scowled, angry with himself for not being able to figure it out either.

  ‘Let me have a look,’ said Bryce, taking the note from Mio. He stared at it, turning it over in his hands, stroking the paper between his fingers.

  A grin tugged at the corners of Darcy’s mouth, then he said, ‘Rubbing it won’t conjure up some genie, you know.’

  ‘Very funny.’ Bryce slayed him with a look. ‘I’m trying to get some inspiration.’ He started to sing, ‘Need some inspiration, need some meaning in my life.’

  Mio took the note and placed it on top of the TV where they all crowded around it. ‘The Emperor.’ Bryce tapped the word with his finger. ‘What d’you think of when you hear the word “Emperor”?’

  ‘Empress!’ said Mio.

  ‘King!’

  ‘Castle.’

  ‘Or palace.’

  ‘Crown.’

  ‘No,’ said Mio. ‘A wig.’

  ‘Wig?’ echoed Bryce, scratching his head. ‘How’s that related?’

  Mio removed a hair from her T-shirt as she explained, ‘Japanese royalty wear black wigs for important ceremonies, like when they get married.’

  ‘Can’t see how this is helping,’ said Darcy and again he studied the neatly written words on the note. The strokes were firm, with strong vertical lines and fine horizontal ones. Sometimes the letters had loops like monkey tails and sometimes they curled like a pig’s tail. ‘What about hound, then?’ he asked.

  ‘Easy,’ said Bryce. ‘Dog.’

  ‘Not just any dog. A hound is a dog that follows a scent.’

  ‘A beagle follows a scent!’ Clem’s eyes widened and her heart beat faster. ‘The note’s about the beagle.’ She snatched the piece of paper, saying, ‘This Emperor, or whatever, and his beagle will not be found, where the strays no longer play.’ She repeated the last few words softly, ‘Where the strays no longer play,’ then looked up and asked, ‘What would stop a dog from playing?’

  ‘Sleeping.’

  ‘Eating.’

  Clem frowned. ‘That doesn’t help.’

  Bryce picked up the note, then put it down again, when suddenly Clem clicked her fingers. ‘I know! Working dogs can’t play.’r />
  Bryce laughed. ‘Working dogs. You make them sound like they’re in a suit and tie and carrying a briefcase.’ He gave Clem a friendly poke.

  She stepped back and took a deep breath. ‘There are working dogs. I saw a show about it. One of those documentaries. Beagles can work as…’ Clem started counting on her fingers ‘…airport sniffer dogs, search and rescue dogs, military dogs who sniff out land mines or explosives and stuff.’

  ‘I get it, I get it,’ said Bryce. ‘Beagles can work. But I can’t see how that helps. There’s no airports or land mines around here.’

  ‘But where do they stray?’ asked Darcy. ‘It might have something to do with that.’

  ‘In the streets, of course,’ said Mio. Her eyes shone with excitement at the thought that trying to solve this mystery was just like in the movies.

  ‘So…’ said Darcy. ‘If they’re not in the streets, where are they?’

  Clem leapt into the air and clapped her hands, saying, ‘The animal shelter!’ She grabbed Darcy’s arm. ‘Strays go to the animal shelter then get locked up. They’re not allowed to play!’

  Darcy grinned, so wide that his cheeks almost swallowed his eyes. ‘Good one, Clem. I think you’re on the right track. It means…’

  ‘…that our beagle isn’t at the pound.’ Clem frowned, unsure if this was a good thing, or a bad thing. She grabbed her brother’s arm and asked, ‘If she’s not there, where is she?’

  ‘She’s with someone called the Emperor.’ Absent-mindedly Bryce rearranged his undies.

  ‘You right?’ asked Darcy, checking out the move.

  Bryce ignored him. ‘But who’s the Emperor?’

  Darcy shrugged as he answered, ‘No idea.’

  ‘Me, either.’

  They looked to Mio. She was lost in thought, her head bowed.

  ‘Mio?’ asked Clem. ‘Any ideas?’

  Mio hesitated. She chewed her lip then gave a small shake of the head. ‘No. Not really. Except, we have our Emperor in Japan, but I can’t see how this has anything to do with him.’ Silence filled The Van. ‘I guess the question is this—if the beagle’s not at the animal shelter, where is she?’

  More silence.

  Suddenly, a sneeze was heard outside, so close they all jumped.

  Mio sprang out of The Van first, followed by Darcy, then Clem and Bryce. ‘Look.’ She pointed at a figure scurrying towards the alley and called, ‘Hey, you! Stop!’

  The figure ran faster. With head down and loose clothing it was impossible to tell who it was, although from its size it wasn’t an adult.

  ‘The bikes!’ yelled Darcy. ‘We’ll catch them on our bikes.’

  In an agonisingly long time the lock was opened and the bikes pulled free from the chain, then all four mounted and started pedalling. ‘After them.’ Darcy thrust down hard to gain speed and the others followed. Freewheelers!

  ‘We’re gaining,’ shouted Clem. ‘Hurry!’

  Darcy shortened the distance between them. Mio and Clem were not far behind. Bryce, as usual, was last. Darcy rose to pedal half-seated, half-standing. He was a fighter bomber with his target in sight. The others glided in his slipstream.

  As they reached the corner the kid veered left, jumped over a low brick fence into a tenement, then ran down a path and pushed through a side gate. The house was boarded up and there was a pile of yellowed, unopened papers littering the yard.

  ‘Where’d they go?’ asked Clem, powering up to the fence.

  ‘We, we’ve lost ’em,’ panted Bryce, then he doubled over to catch his breath.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Clem. ‘And maybe not.’ She leapt off her bike, throwing it down so quickly that it skidded across the pavement, then bounded over the fence towards the gate. Taking three giant strides she called over her shoulder, ‘Come on!’

  Bryce baulked at the fence. ‘We can’t. It’s private property!’

  ‘So?!’ said Clem, pulling the handle and opening the gate. Halfway through she stopped and turned, asking, ‘Who’s with me?’

  ‘Me,’ said Darcy and he scooted off his bike and headed for the fence.

  ‘And me.’ Mio slid off her bike and propped it up on its stand before she, too, leapt the fence.

  Helmets scattered.

  Bryce’s face fell. In a shrunken voice he said, ‘You guys go. I’ll stay and mind the bikes.’

  Darcy, Clem and Mio disappeared through the gate in a flurry of arms and legs. Bryce sighed. Standing astride his bike, he settled in for a long wait. Not for the first time he wished his mum and dad were still married and that he didn’t have to deal with stepfathers and stepmothers and the constant threat of being tossed into a juvenile detention centre and being barred by his father. I’d give anything to have a family like Clem and Darcy’s, he thought. Anything!

  Once through the gate and down a path the kids found themselves in a small courtyard cocooned at the side of the rickety old tenement. Downstairs the windows and door were boarded up. Between the moss and the dirt it was obvious that it hadn’t been lived in for a very long time. An old metal stairway led to another floor at the top. The path continued down the side.

  ‘Which way?’ asked Clem, squinting to see what lay behind the windows.

  ‘Who knows?’

  Mio pointed to the darkened passage. ‘Down the side, maybe. They went that way.’

  ‘How can you be sure?’ asked Clem.

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Let’s split up, then,’ said Clem. ‘We’re wasting too much time. Mio, you and Darcy check the side path. I’ll do upstairs.’ She scaled the steps, three at a time, pleased that Mio didn’t argue.

  Grabbing Mio’s sleeve Darcy pulled her into the shadows of the passageway. The air was cool and dank, giving them goosebumps. It smelt musty, like old clothes, or an attic. Mio hugged herself for warmth.

  Darcy took the lead, ducking and weaving around what looked like a lifetime of junk. Broken stools, an old cupboard, rusted buckets and mouldy mops all had to be sidestepped. Ughhh! he thought as he swerved then swiped madly at his hair and face.

  ‘What?’ asked Mio, who nearly toppled over him.

  ‘Spider web!’ Darcy spat and swatted at the same time.

  Mio felt a shiver down her back. ‘Glad it’s you and not me.’

  At the end of the passage they came to another gate. It was tall, much higher than the other, and padlocked. Darcy rattled it but it didn’t open. He rested his cheek against a paling, trying to look through the cracks. He could vaguely make out the bumper and bonnet of a car, white, but that was all.

  ‘He, or she, can’t have gone through here,’ said Mio, suddenly feeling trapped.

  ‘No. Otherwise they’d have broken that web.’

  ‘Let’s go find Clem.’

  When they got back to the courtyard Clem couldn’t be seen. The kids bolted up the stairs to be greeted by another door into the house, also boarded up. They edged along the landing, trying to see through the grimy windows.

  ‘Where’s Clem?’ asked Mio, her voice breathless.

  Darcy looked to the left, right, left, wondering how she could disappear, when all of a sudden a whistle got his attention. He looked up then gasped, ‘Oh!’

  Mio’s eyes widened. Somehow Clem had scaled the lattice on the side of the landing and climbed a small gabled roof. There she crouched, peering from rooftop to rooftop.

  ‘Clem!’ hissed Darcy, watching his sister anxiously as he gripped the railing. ‘Get down from there. You’ll fall!’

  Clem held her finger to her lips, then pointed to the building next door. This one was higher, separated from the other by about a two-metre gap. She mouthed something to Mio and Darcy.

  ‘What?’ asked Darcy.

  Mio prodded him with a hushed, ‘Shhhhh.’

  Again, Clem pointed at something next door. The kids inspected the building. They saw broken tiles and a chimney covered in bird poo. Clem pointed more urgently so Darcy looked closer. And then he saw it. Poking out from behind the
chimney. A foot! Or more precisely, a foot wearing a runner—a very white runner. Darcy calculated the distance between their landing and the roof opposite and scowled, wondering how on earth they’d jumped that.

  Standing slowly, Clem took several steps backwards. Darcy watched as she crouched, her elbows flattened to her sides—one arm extended forwards and the other back—and wondered what she was doing. She rose to her toes, then bounced once, twice.

  ‘No!’ screamed Darcy. ‘Clem, no!’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘What did you do that for?’ growled Clem, climbing down the latticework and leaping onto the landing. ‘I could’ve jumped it easily and caught him, if it wasn’t for you. You idiot!’

  Darcy scurried down the stairs and across the pavers calling over his shoulder, ‘’Cause I wasn’t in the mood for a funeral.’ As he pushed open the gate that led back to the street he turned and added, ‘Although I am now!’ before storming through.

  Mio opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

  ‘What?’ Clem huffed with frustration, her hands curled at her sides.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Mio then she, too, turned and headed for the gate. Clem dragged behind.

  The sun was sinking, making long shadows on the footpath and taking the heat out of the air. In the distance people scurried home from work, weaving their way through the evening traffic. There was the familiar sound of horns beeping and tyres screeching.

  ‘We saw the intruder,’ announced Darcy as he came through the gate.

  ‘The intruder’s foot,’ corrected Mio, then she paused. ‘Come to think of it, we saw the eavesdropper’s foot. We don’t even know if it’s the same person or not.’

  ‘Must be.’

  ‘Surely.’

  Mio shrugged and said, ‘Maybe. But maybe not.’

  ‘I could’ve caught him,’ growled Clem. ‘If it wasn’t for a certain person with red hair who is not ME!’ She was so angry that her face and hair blended in. ‘He got away.’

  Darcy looked heavenwards as he threw his hands in the air, then let them flop to his sides. Raising his pitch to sound like Clem he said, ‘Gee, Darcy. Thanks for saving my life!’ Then in his own voice he answered, ‘Not at all, Clem. That’s what brothers are for.’