by Jon Berkeley
Mr. Miller stepped through a gap in the encircling bushes and looked up at the house. “Ladder,” he said quietly. Nothing happened. He put his lantern down carefully at his feet and placed his hands on his hips. “Ladder,” he said again. The end of a ladder inched out from the verandah and stopped. “Come on!” said Mr. Miller impatiently, and Bea wondered if whoever was pushing it minded being spoken to so abruptly. The ladder inched out farther, then tipped and unfolded suddenly in a series of hinged sections. The last section thumped to the ground at Mr. Miller’s feet. “Follow me,” he said over his shoulder, and began to climb.
He led them from the verandah into an odd-shaped living room with a large table in the middle. The table was spread with a white cloth, on which a teapot and a stack of plates stood.
Mrs. Miller bustled in from the kitchen at that moment with a dish in each hand and another perched precariously on her head. She had a long neck and fine narrow features like bone china. She smiled when she saw Bea and Phoebe. “Well, well, how nice to have company. I’m Mrs. Miller, but you can call me Gladys. You must be worn out. Here’s your mother now. Hello, dear, I’m Gladys; welcome to our house. I’m sorry it’s a bit of a pigsty; we’re never sure whose turn it will be. This must be your husband. It’s a pleasure to meet you. What a magnificent beard, if you don’t mind my saying so…” Mrs. Miller produced a constant stream of words without seeming to take a breath, all the while dealing out dishes and cutlery like an expert cardplayer, and scurrying in and out of the kitchen with plates of cooked meats and fruit and biscuits and steaming vegetables. She straightened pictures and cushions and replaced books on their shelves as she swept past them. When her hands were already full things seemed to straighten themselves at a mere nod from Mrs. Miller.
“Sit, everyone, please,” she said as she swept back in, ducking slightly to avoid a thick branch that passed through one corner of the room. The Flint family seated themselves around the table. Mr. Miller came in from the verandah dusting his hands.
A puzzled look came over Mrs. Miller’s porcelain face. “Let me see,” she said, “one, two, three, four, five, six, Captain Bontoc, how are you? Mr. Miller and myself, of course, that’s nine. Now, who are we missing?”
“Boygone,” said Clockwork Gabby, and this time everyone heard her. There was a stunned silence.
“She spoke,” said Pa.
“Is that unusual?” asked Mrs. Miller politely.
“Hasn’t said a word in years,” said Pa, running his hand over his scalp with a puzzled expression.
Mr. Miller put his hand on his wife’s arm and said something quietly in her ear. Mrs. Miller’s eyes opened wide. “On the crossing?” she said. She looked at Ma sympathetically, and for a second even she was lost for words. “I’m sure he’ll be found,” she said when she had recovered her tongue. “I don’t know much about it, but he must be on the chart, mustn’t he, Captain? Have a little bite to eat; it will keep your strength up. Some potatoes, dear? Who’d like a slice of pie?”
“How about you, Gabby?” said Pa with a wink. Gabby said nothing.
Mrs. Miller served everyone around the table at a spectacular pace, and though she had only two hands and a couple of large serving spoons, Bea was sure that most of the food distributed itself under Mrs. Miller’s instruction. “More soup?” she said, and the soup level in Pa’s bowl rose while the level in the tureen fell a little. Dollops of steaming cabbage leaped onto the plates as soon as they were offered, and when Phoebe wrinkled up her nose at the sight of it, her dollop jumped back hastily into the dish. Bea lifted the cloth and looked under the table to see if there were magnets or pulleys or something. She saw only knees. She looked at the empty chair across the table from her, and suddenly she was too tired to wonder about it anymore.
“Had enough?” said Mrs. Miller, who missed nothing. “I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. The beds have just been made up fresh. Up the stairs with you, this way, watch your head.”
Bea was almost too tired to undress. She expected to fall asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, but sleep didn’t come so easily. The bed was softer than she was accustomed to, and the mattress sagged under her in an alarming way. Strange squeaks and hoots came from the forest outside her window, punctuated by the slow, rhythmic creeeak…squik…creeeak…squik of the house as it swayed gently in the treetop. She held Theo’s backpack close to her under the blanket. She had opened the zipper slightly to give the meerkat air, but she was afraid to let him out.
The events of the night swirled around and around in her head. The busmarine, the car wash, the awful sucking pop of her little brother’s disappearance, the unwelcoming welcome committee in the office above the library, Mrs. Miller and her obedient supper. She almost felt angry at Theo for spoiling what should have been an extraordinary start to a holiday, but as soon as the thought entered her head a lump appeared in her throat and she had to squeeze her eyes shut. She hugged the backpack closer, and drifted into a restless sleep.
She found herself at home in her familiar bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. The room was smaller somehow. The floor felt soft and spongy beneath her feet.
“What am I going to do now?” said Theo’s voice. It sounded just as she had heard it from the Squeak Jar, but without all the background noise.
“Theo?” she said. “Where are you?”
“Here.”
“Are you hiding under the bed?” said Bea. She was afraid to look between her ankles. “It’s not funny. Everyone’s looking for you.”
“What would I be doing under the bed?” said Theo. She could tell he wasn’t lying, and she got the uncomfortable feeling that he might be somewhere outside the window, even though they lived on the third floor. Or was it the thirtieth? She couldn’t quite remember.
“Are we going back to the busmarine soon?” said Theo’s voice. “I left Nails there.”
“Nails is with me,” said Bea. She had a flash of inspiration. “If you can tell me where you are I’ll bring him to you.”
There was a pause. “Is this a game? Do you have him hidden?”
“Yes,” said Bea. “Nobody else knows. Can you tell me where you are?”
“Ummmm,” said Theo, “on holiday?”
Bea felt frustration rising in her. She didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. “What does the place look like? It’s not like a…like a big glass jar or anything?”
There was a splutter of laughter from Theo, followed by an angry shout of “Never?” The shout came not from Theo but from Ma, and it dispersed Bea’s dream like a puff of smoke. She could feel the bedsprings bouncing beneath her, so suddenly had she jerked awake. There were voices from the verandah below her window. She could hear Ma’s voice, and Granny Delphine’s, and another voice that must have been Captain Bontoc’s. She could not make out what they were saying. I bet it’s not as important as what I was asking Theo, she thought.
“Phoebe?” she said. “Are you asleep?”
“I would be if you weren’t talking to me.”
“I dreamed about Theo.”
“What did you dream?” said Phoebe.
“Besides the obvious, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“I dreamed I was in my room back home. I could hear Theo but much clearer than…than from the jar.”
“What did he say?”
“I was trying to find out where he is, but I woke up before he could tell me.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t wake up deliberately! I heard Ma shout. I think she’s having a fight with Granny Delphine.”
She heard Phoebe’s bare feet land on the floorboards.
“Where are you going?” she said.
“I’m going to see what they’re talking about.”
Bea got out of her bed too without a word. She quietly closed the zipper on Theo’s backpack and put it over her shoulder. She could see Phoebe’s silhouette as she slipped out through the door. She crept down the stairs after her.
It was an unfamiliar staircase, so she did not know which ones might creak. Phoebe was skipping every second step, but the ones she did choose let out loud creaks anyway. Bea carefully stepped on the ones her friend had avoided, which creaked just as loudly. Together they sounded like a pair of giant crickets walking a polished corridor in new shoes.
The door to the verandah stood open. Ma, Granny Delphine, Captain Bontoc and Pa sat on cane chairs in a pool of lamplight. Pa had nodded off. There was no sign of Clockwork Gabby or the Millers. “I couldn’t have told you,” Granny Delphine was saying. “You wouldn’t have come.”
“You’re darn right I wouldn’t!” said Ma angrily. “And we’re going right back, just as soon as we find Theo. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“That won’t make any difference to the Gummint, love. You know that.”
Bea followed Phoebe, tiptoeing across the darkened dining room toward the table where Mrs. Miller had served them supper. The Squeak Jar stood in the center of the table, reflecting the yellow glow of the lamplight outside. Captain Bontoc’s listening horn lay beside it. They sat down quietly to eavesdrop.
“They can’t arrest all of us. We’ve never had anything to do with Mumbo Jumbo,” Ma was saying.
“They can and they will. Whole families disappear every day. Most are never seen again. The Gummint sees Mumbo Jumbo as a danger to society. They’re afraid of it.”
“Mrs. Walker’s right,” said Captain Bontoc. “It’s said they carry out experiments on their prisoners, trying to find out ways to eradicate Mumbo Jumbo altogether. Once they suspect someone of being a Pearlseed they’ll arrest the entire family. They sent men to pick you up last night. You got out just in time.”
Ma shook her head slowly. “I’ll find my boy, and we’ll all go home on the next crossing.”
Captain Bontoc sighed. “If I know the Gummint men there’ll be nothing left of your home. They’ve never been able to discover where Pearlseeds escape to, and they’ll tear the place apart looking for clues. It’ll look like a plague of locusts held their annual jamboree there, believe me.”
“I’m not going to spend the rest of my life in hiding,” said Ma. She wore a stubborn look. “You’ll just have to bring us back.”
“Impossible, I’m afraid, ma’am,” said the captain. He took a gulp of rum and set his glass down on the low table in front of him. “‘Sky black, moon blue, nine souls go through.’”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Ma.
“What it says,” said Captain Bontoc. “When the moon turns blue on the Other Side the crossing is open. Nine souls can go through, no more, no less.”
“The moon is still blue,” said Ma.
Captain Bontoc looked up at the sky. “Course it is, ma’am,” he said patiently. “It’s always blue on this side, except when it turns blue on the Other Side, of course. Then it turns yellow here, if you follow me.”
“And we were only seven,” said Ma.
“Right again, ma’am. Seven passengers, myself, and Captain Fuller making the reverse crossing. Seven arriving and two driving makes nine.”
“We’ll still be seven on the way back. Six, if my mother decides to stay here.”
Captain Bontoc pursed his lips. “There’ll be more coming through,” he said. “Crossing’s only open once in a blue moon, and not for long at that. We bring a family through every time, and it’s still not enough. There are no return trips.”
“You can’t do that to us!” said Ma. “We came here on a holiday!”
Captain Bontoc smiled cheerfully. “Window dressing, ma’am. Blue Moon Once-in-a-Lifetime Adventure Holidays is a cover story. Helps to keep our operation under wraps, as well as persuading the…er…reluctant traveler. It did say ‘the holiday of a lifetime’ in the brochure.”
Granny Delphine reached out and put her hand on Ma’s knee. “I’m sorry,” she said.
In the darkened living room Bea looked at Phoebe in astonishment. She could see Phoebe’s eyebrows raised too. Granny Delphine was Always Right, and an apology from her was even rarer than a blue moon.
“It was the only way,” said Granny Delphine. “We were all in danger, but you would never have let me persuade you.”
“And what about Theo? What about Phoebe?”
“Theo would have been taken by the Gummint anyway, along with the rest of us. He’s safer where he is. If Bea can hear him, she can help us find him. She just needs some training. As for Phoebe…” She blinked behind her big round spectacles. “That wasn’t an easy decision, but I take full responsibility.”
Ma sat up straight in her chair. “You’ve made us into kidnappers, that’s what you’ve done. And as for your so-called training, we’ve been through this a hundred times. You’re not filling my daughter’s head with Mumbo Jumbo. It’s brought us nothing but trouble so far.”
“It may be the only way,” said Granny Delphine, “to bring Theo back.”
Freezalizer
Bea Flint sneaked a biscuit from a plate that sat in the center of the table. She had not had a moment to look for worms to give to Nails, and she knew he must be hungry. Worms were among the meerkat’s favorite dishes, but the mere idea of feeding them to him made Bea’s skin crawl. Biscuits were not nearly so good for him, but at least she did not have to imagine them silently screaming as his sharp little teeth crunched them up.
She opened the zipper on the backpack just enough to fit the biscuit through. Unfortunately a gap that will just fit a large biscuit will also just fit a small meerkat. Nails was tired of being cooped up in the dark, and when he heard the zipper opening he grabbed his chance. He was out of the bag and running across the moon-striped floor before you could say “escaped meerkat.”
“Ndah!” said Bea. It was one of those meaningless words that come out when you are taken so much by surprise that your tongue gets ahead of your brain. Out on the lamplit verandah Granny Delphine looked around for a moment and frowned into the darkened living room before returning to the conversation.
Phoebe stared after the fugitive meerkat in astonishment. “That’s Nails!” she whispered loudly.
“I know that!” said Bea. She grabbed another biscuit from the plate and crept across the floor, following the direction that Nails had taken. Through the open back door she could see him running along the edge of the back porch, looking for a route to the ground. “Nails!” whispered Bea, making kissing noises with her lips. “Come here, Nails. I’ve got bikkies. Nice bikkies.”
The meerkat stood up and looked back at her. His head ducked up and down as he examined the biscuit. He had been too busy escaping to eat the one that she had posted into the stuffy backpack, but his hunger made this one look particularly biscuity, and escape didn’t seem so urgent now that he was in the open air. He turned and took a few steps back toward her, but at that moment Phoebe appeared on the porch. Nails knew an ambush when he saw one. He ran back along the porch and took a flying leap at a slender branch that stretched out from a neighboring tree and ended several feet away. He scrabbled for purchase among the dancing leaves; then he was off along the branch and down the trunk in the blink of an eye. Biscuits were all very well, the meerkat was thinking, but his usual boy gave him worms and beetles. He had no idea where Theo was, but he had a good sense of direction and his priorities were clear. Worms and beetles would be back on the menu if he had any say in the matter.
Bea sat back on her heels on the back porch, fifteen feet above the ground. “I almost had him,” she hissed.
“But how did he get here?” asked Phoebe. She held the Squeak Jar under one arm, and the end of the listening horn poked out of her pocket.
“How do you think?” said Bea. She was too annoyed to worry about trying to keep her secret. “He came in Theo’s backpack.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to bring pets,” said Phoebe.
“We couldn’t very well leave him with…” Bea looked at Phoebe and stopped herself. “…on his own,” she finished. She turned quickly
and looked down into the moonlit clearing. Nails was looking back over his shoulder from a little way along the path. He knew if he stopped and waited Bea would come after him. He was not about to be caught just yet, but he didn’t want to get lost either.
“We have to go after him,” said Bea. They lowered the ladder—another jointed one like the one that Mr. Miller had called down from the front verandah—being careful not to make any noise. Bea put the jar and the horn into Theo’s backpack.
“We’d better put the ladder back up,” Bea whispered when they reached the ground.
Phoebe shook her head. “They might hear us.”
“They’re too busy arguing.”
“Except your pa. He’s too busy snoring.”
Bea put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing, which made snot come out of her nose instead.
“Mr. Miller seemed pretty worried about pulling it up after us when we arrived,” she insisted when she had recovered herself.
Phoebe shrugged. “Okay.” She ran silently back up the ladder and began to haul it up after her.
“Yes, but how will you—,” began Bea, but Phoebe had already stowed the ladder and launched herself into the air. She landed on the soft earth with a thump—a small one—and sprang back up like a gymnast ending her routine.
“Let’s go!” she said. They followed Nails along the path that led back toward Cambio Falls. The meerkat kept his distance, but he stopped every now and then and looked back to make sure they were following him. The moon hung near the horizon, as fat and blue as a tropical fish, and their shadows stretched out behind them like slender marionettes.
They passed between the dark silhouettes of houses perched like angular bird nests in the trees on either side of the path. Lamps burned outside some of them, but there was no sign that anyone else was awake.
