Mr. Oddley's Toy Shop

by S.J. Armato

  Yes, he was here, and he saw one lone car parked in the otherwise empty lot below. Now, he was nuttier than an extra crunchy peanut brittle sandwich, but he was no fool. He knew who was parked below... and perhaps had already made her way into the cave. It was Liza. It had to be. Somehow that tough, independent, and materialistic woman had fallen in love with that idiot Oddley. Why, when, where, or how? He didn’t know and didn’t care. All he knew was that he could use their love for each other as a tool... as a weapon.

  He turned to his pilot and sneered, “Drop me off at the same spot as yesterday, then circle around and wait for my signal. But don’t go too far. I might need you quickly. Got it?”

  “Y-yes, sir,” the pilot replied, relieved to be putting some distance between himself and his boss, even for just a little while.

  ***

  Mr. Oddley finally regained consciousness, and had managed to drag himself back up the stairs and away from the influence of the crystals. He sat for a while to clear the buzzing sounds in his head, and to decide what his next step should be. “Down,” he muttered to himself. “Down the stairs equals down the mountain.” It was his only hope, really. There was no way he could climb down the mountainside in the snowy cold. That meant he had to try, yet again, to get by the voices and down the stairs. So, he made a mad hobbling dash past the door and down the steps. The voices screamed in his brain for him to stop, to come to them, but he did not, he dared not... and then, with his mind growing numb, he finally passed the danger point. He rested for a moment then continued down the ancient staircase. He lost count, but thought he had descended perhaps five flights, had passed, perhaps, a dozen doors? He had no clue. Yes, he had lost count. Several times his foot landed on a step that creaked ominously, and threatened to give way, under his weight. And once he slipped and fell and bruised his shoulder so badly he had to rest. But he kept on going. With his blood pounding in his ears, he kept moving. He was almost there, almost, almost.

  And then finally, he was there. Ground level. Hallelujah! A grand entranceway with two immense crystal doors stood before him. He staggered forward and placed his hands upon them.

  The sound was frightening. The ancient mechanism shuddered and creaked, groaned and shrieked. The doors began to swing open, very slowly, as they pushed away a thousand years of dirt and rock that now blocked them. The doors swung open to an avalanche of material that had over the years entombed them. Mr. Oddley covered his ears to stop the awful sound of the Pandoran’s mighty man-made machinery doing battle with nature. Finally, with a bang, there was silence. Nature had prevailed, and the machine came to a halt, but it was enough. Mr. Oddley could see daylight. He scrambled through the obstacle course formed by this new exit of unrooted trees and dislodged boulders. Once outside, he looked around, not sure exactly where he was, but he knew he needed to get as far as he could from here. Something was happening, the mountain was growling deeply. But he was exhausted and needed to calm himself and catch his breath, so he slumped down, leaned on a rock and just for a moment closed his eyes.

  Then, when he looked up, he saw the concerned faces of Liza and the kids. They’d heard the horrible noise themselves and had come running, even with the ground shuddering and shifting beneath their feet. This was no time for talk. Liza helped support Mr. Oddley as the six of them made their way back to the car, Daphne expertly guiding them over and around the shifting terrain and fallen rocks and trees.

  ***

  Merless was in the cave when the machine, apparently the engine that powered this entire place, broke down, because all the lights switched off and the interior of the mountain shook in a fit of uncertainty, like it was threatening to collapse upon itself. And then... it began to do just that. He cursed his luck and made his way back outside, where amid the thunder of falling rocks, he quickly summoned his ride.

  Once in the air, he saw a car racing down the mountain road, barely ahead of the avalanche. He suspected Oddley was in it with the translation book. The book he needed. “Okay Oddley,” he mumbled to himself, “this round goes to you.”

  ***

  Later that evening, it was reported that some sort of seismic activity had occurred, and Halfway Mountain had actually collapsed a few feet. Several small avalanches had taken place, but, thankfully, no one had been in the area at the time and no damage had been reported. But the mountain would be off limits until further readings could be taken.

  As he signed off, the roving reporter’s big chuckle of the day was: “So now, if you climb to the top of that grand mass, you’ll need a step-ladder if you want to be halfway to heaven.”

  Chapter 26

  With Mr. Oddley snoring in the back seat, Liza quietly dropped Maggie and Molly off at Tim’s house, because Tim said his Dad had been working long hours all week and was looking forward to sleeping late on Saturday. They could sneak in and, as far as anyone would know, that was where they’d spent the entire night. Liza then dropped Daphne off.

  The plan was for the kids to call their parents, make breakfast, and then go home. Well, not exactly in that order because they were really hungry. They would go see Mr. Oddley tomorrow afternoon. No doubt he needed to rest up from the strange ordeal he’d just gone through. And frankly, so did they.

  ***

  The next day, after a good sleep and just before noon, the kids were at Maggie’s house quietly lounging in her room, when Judy, Maggie’s Mom, came to the door with a newspaper in her hand.

  “Did you guys hear about this? she said, pointing to the big headline story of the day. “Our favorite mountain had an earthquake or something yesterday. And some people say they heard strange rumblings too. Whatever it was, it happened very quickly, so they’re not sure what to make of it, but the whole thing shrank. Weird, huh?”

  Maggie, Molly, and Tim exchanged quick nervous glances, but apparently Mom was too engrossed in the article to notice.

  “Anyway, come down for brunch in about 15 minutes. The French toast batter is done and I just need to fry ‘em up.”

  “OK, thanks, Mom,” said all three kids simultaneously. Lately Molly and Tim had started calling her Mom... and she kind of liked it.

  After Judy went back to the kitchen, Molly started in with a windstorm of words.

  “Ohmygod, we could have been killed... crushed in an avalanche... our sad little faces on the 6 o’clock news... the entrances must be sealed now... what was Mr. Merless looking for anyway?... any crystals left are now buried forever... what a terrible tragedy that this happened... hey look, I broke a nail.”

  Tim looked at Molly with serious concern on his face and said, “Quick, get a n-nail file. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be OK!”

  Maggie burst in with, “No, Tim, I say we put her in a full body cast. You know how dangerous a broken nail can be. Very low survival rate. So sad.”

  “Ha ha, very funny. But isn’t Sunday morning usually Pick-on-Tim-Time?”

  “But I don’t have a b-broken nail,” said Tim as he wiggled his fingers in front of Molly’s face. A little too close, in fact, because she bit him.

  “Ow!” he yelped.

  “Well, that confirms it,” said Maggie. “That poisoned nail of hers has spread to her brain. Oh well, come on guys, let’s eat.”

  “First, I need a b-bandaid,” cried Tim... which really was the wrong thing to say, because now it was back to Pick-on-Tim-Time.

  ***

  Any dealings with Oddley and the translation book needed to be put on the back burner for now. Merless had other business to take care of.

  He had decided to use his rogue... no, his enhanced crystals and that helped him feel a little better because it put him in control of the situation. And the $ituation was money. He was on the phone with Lou Zare, a second rate but very wealthy tennis player who struggled desperately for mediocrity. Lou would sell his own mother to win a big-time match.

  “What’s so special about this racquet?” questioned Lou. “Is it made of some new super metal or space-age plastic?�
�

  “No, no, nothing like that,” sizzled Merless excitedly. “You’ll just have to come over and see it for yourself. Take it for a test run. And bring cash because you will want to buy it. I am sure.”

  “I sure hope you’re not wasting my time, Mr. Merless.” answered a skeptical Lou. “Where should we meet?”

  “At Stuffy’s Country Club. See you at one o’clock. I’ll reserve an indoor court. Hey, and after, we’ll do lunch.”

  ***

  After having slept for 14 hours straight, Oscar was feeling much better. Still sore, but oh so glad to have been rescued from that nightmare. Liza had made him some chicken soup, which meant she opened a can, plopped it into a bowl, and put it in the microwave for two minutes. Super-Chef, she was not... but it’s the thought that counts.

  “Good soup. I have to get rid of them, you know,” he slurped.

  “But what about the toys?” she asked.

  “I didn’t realize they were affecting our brains.” he half slurped, half replied.

  “But the toys!” she said.

  “The children are more important than the toys,” he said as he put his bowl down, and that ended the discussion.

  Of course, they were talking about the Incredimite. But this wasn’t just another “he said, she said” dialog. This was a long overdue realization that you don’t get something for nothing. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Nothing in life is free. Because you see, the magic had come with a price. Mind control. And was that worth the ability to create extraordinary toys? Well, yes, of course... said the little devil on Oddley’s shoulder, and no, definitely not, said the angel on his other.

  “But what about all the toys already out there? All those toys you sold that are still being played with by hundreds of kids?”

  “I think once we get rid of the crystals, move them away from here, each toy will lose some of its power. It’s a prime example of strength in numbers, because the power of the crystals lies in their numbers and their proximity to each other. Ever notice that the toys worked best within the shop? And the further from the shop the toys traveled, the weaker they performed? I never knew why, until now.”

  “And what about Merless? He still has the crystals he stole from you,” said Liza.

  “Yes, and now they’re damaged which makes them even more dangerous. But I have a feeling he will try to use them anyway. And if they don’t do the job, he’ll come after mine again. Liza, I don’t think we’ve heard the last of him.”

  “And what about the translation book? He might want that, too.”

  “Yes... I know and I should destroy it... and I will, but first I need to study it. There is so much I want to know about the Pandorans and their unique science.”

  “So, now what?”

  “Now we rent a storage unit and hide the Incredimite until I can think of a way to safely get rid of it. And then... then... I go back to selling, well, ordinary toys.”

  “Oscar, I don’t know what to say. I...”

  “Look Liza, down deep I always felt it was too good to be true. Too good to last. I’ll survive. We’ll survive, because what is much more important than the crystals is making things right. This will all work itself out in the end.”

  Yes, in the end, but how will it end? thought Liza. But she nodded in agreement and smiled weakly. Then as Oscar went back to his soup, a basic tenet of her past life flashed into her thoughts: when money and power is involved, things get complicated.

  ***

  Lou Zare had a smile on his face that was so big it threatened to unzip the top of his head. Merless was right. This new racquet worked like a dream... like his dream... which was to become the world’s top tennis player. Lou had brought his trainers with him, and they all stood facing him from across the net. It was three against one. WHAM, he served, and the ball flew past his opponents before they could raise their racquets. WHAM, he hit another; it was pathetically returned, and Lou smashed it back. And smashed is a good word, because the ball smashed one of the trainers in the head and he was down and out. An attendant dragged him off the court. Now it was two to one.

  Lou served a dozen aces in a row. His opponents could do little more than turn their gaze to watch the balls whiz by. By now, Lou was getting bored so he lobbed a serve gently over the net. It was hit back expertly, and for a moment it looked like the trainers would finally score, but then Lou’s arm seemed to stretch out inhumanly long and his legs became a blur of motion. He reached the ball and sent it back right down the center of the court. Both trainers reached for it and collided with a crunch as the ball zipped blindingly between them. They both limped slowly and painfully off the court.

  Merless had been watching the whole time. He had been Lou’s one man cheering section. Now, he stood, clapped slowly, smiled knowingly, and walked over to the winner. “Let’s get us some lunch,” he laughed. “I’m ravenously hungry, and Lou, ha ha, I say you’re buying!”

  Happy beyond words, Lou looked down in awe at the racquet in his hand and nodded.

  ***

  “Before we go see Mr. Oddley, there’s something I want to tell you guys,” said Molly. Maggie and Tim looked up with their mouths full of French toast and gave her an OK, you’ve got our attention, now what is it look.

  Molly cleared her throat and stated importantly, “Listen up everyone, I want all of you to know that I have decided I’m going to be a poet.”

  “Everyone? All of us?” asked Maggie. “It’s just me and Tim here. Who’s all? Anyway, I thought you said you wanted to be a writer or a novelist?”

  “Or a cartoonist?” added Tim.

  “Oh, well, those were just some silly childhood dreams,” corrected Molly.

  “Um, that was just a few weeks ago, and anyway, in case you haven’t looked in a mirror lately, you are a child. You’re not even thirteen yet.”

  “Whatever,” said Molly in a huff. “I have something for you to read.”

  “Well, of course you do.” said Maggie and Tim in unison.

  Molly handed them each a copy of her poem. It was typed in a very flowery type face, which made it a little difficult to read, but Molly thought it added to the beauty of her work. It was titled:

  The Seed

  by Molly Morgan

  An old man filled with tears and fears,

  and having lived for so many years,

  through time and trial and thought and deed,

  had searched and found a magic seed.

  The seed was filled with all of the schemes,

  all of the hopes and all of the dreams

  of wise-men and wizards, prophets and poets

  and could answer all questions of life one proposed it.

  So one day he sat and he pondered the seed,

  and he thought and he thought that surely the need,

  for love and for peace and for truth in this world,

  could be filled by this seed that gleamed like a pearl.

  He planted the seed and he went into town,

  and waited for people to gather around,

  he spoke of the seed and his voice rose above,

  the crowd like sunshine, as he explained the power of love.

  The people first smiled then burst into laughter,

  they called him a fool for what he was after,

  an impossible dream that would, could never be,

  they said, “old man, love doesn’t grow on a tree.”

  He said to have love and not give anything,

  your words will be hollow and dull in their ring,

  but no one understood and soon he was alone,

  as the crowds all left him, left and went home.

  The old man was never ever seen again there,

  he disappeared that day into thin air,

  the seed without love, well, it withered and died,

  and a star dimmed that night and no one knew why.

  Maggie and Tim were curiously silent after having read the poem. They didn’t know how to express what t
hey were feeling, and looked nervously at each other. It was Tim who finally broke the awkward silence, and best expressed what they were both feeling. “Wow, what a b-bummer. That old guy was probably nuts or something.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Maggie. “He was really pathetic. A magic seed, love, what was he babbling about? The only way to bring about real change in this world is through legislation.”

  “What?” exclaimed Molly. “Bummer? Pathetic? Legislation? Are you serious? This is an extremely sophisticated and intellectually deep poem. Did you guys get anything at all out of it?”

  “Er, nice rhymes,” said Tim.

  “Yes,” acknowledged Maggie. “And a very nice choice of type face.”

  “Oy!” said Molly, as she slapped her head.

  So, as we close this scene, I’d like to make a small observation. What some may believe to be a deep thought, others might perceive to be a pointless pit. And as far as I can determine, both views are valid.

  Chapter 27

  Rob sat beside Merless in the Universi-Toy lounge, watching TV and waiting for the match to begin. Lou Zare had sponsored a pre-game exhibition match with a local pro and had invited the media to a must see event. This hack tennis player was set to go toe-to-toe with a pro, and Hugh knew the reason why. So do we, of course. It was because of the unique advantage of his Incredimite charged racquet.

  And Rob was feeling good about himself again. His brief journey into the shock of being dumped by Daphne was over. He had convinced himself that it had been his plan all along to dump her, and she had obviously sensed something and dumped him first. She was probably at home now crying her eyes out. So sad, he thought, as he sat there comfortably, a huge grin plastered on his face.

  And that huge grin was also because Hugh had said he had a surprise for him. A special surprise. What could it be? He had no idea, but he would know after the game was over.

  But now it was time for the match. The players jogged on to the court. Lou danced, wiggled, and waved, got down and did ten pushups, then stood and bowed to his adoring fans. He looked like a jerk but he looked so confident, the fans forgave him. A confident idiot can command an amazing amount of respect. The crowd mindlessly cheered.