Howzat!

by Brett Lee

  ‘He’s okay,’ I said, as everyone suddenly turned to look at me.

  ‘Everything’s under control.’ A man in a dark suit with a kind face had suddenly taken over.

  ‘Brian Casboult?’ I whispered, looking up into his face.

  ‘A pleasure to meet you, Mr Toby Jones. I have heard so much about you.’

  7

  What about Jim?

  Saturday—evening

  ‘Something very strange is happening and I am at a loss to explain it,’ the England coach, Ken Rummins, said to Mr Casboult, the chief executive of the MCG. We were sitting in his office, up in the top level of the Members Grandstand. ‘And especially the actions of the young man sitting in the office here with us,’ he added, turning to glare at me.

  ‘I understand your concern, Ken,’ Mr Casboult nodded. ‘Please be assured that what Toby did was in the interest of Freddy.’

  ‘Interest of Freddy?’ Ken Rummins scowled. ‘Chasing the poor lad halfway around the ground here, throwing cricket balls at him and almost causing his death? I beg your pardon, Brian, but I don’t quite follow the logic of your argument.’ How much did Brian Casboult know? I wondered. How much was I going to have to explain? If ever I needed Jim’s calm and gentle presence, it was now.

  The phone in the coach’s top pocket buzzed.

  ‘Yes?’ he snapped. I stole a glance at Mr Casboult. He smiled, nodding his head. ‘I’m with the lad now.’ Mr Rummins looked across at me, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘No, by all means. Bring him up.’ He snapped his phone shut thoughtfully. ‘Well, Freddy is much improved and would like to talk with you.’

  I nodded, not sure what to say.

  ‘Ken,’ Mr Casboult continued. ‘A gentleman by the name of Jim Oldfield has—how can I explain—made contact with cricketers from another place.’

  ‘Another time and place,’ I added, nodding.

  ‘Yes. Now I am not fully familiar with all the details, but I have called our librarian back, Mr David Howie, and I know he can clarify the situation further.’

  ‘I can explain, Mr Casboult,’ I said.

  ‘I think you’ve done quite enough,’ Mr Rummins snapped, standing up suddenly and walking towards the window. ‘I presume that what was shown on the scoreboard there has been recorded and will be available?’

  ‘I saved his life,’ I blurted out, unable to control my anger any longer. ‘Freddy had been taken over by one of the Grubbers. I saw him come onto the field and approach Freddy while I was batting.’ The two men were staring at me, but I wasn’t going to stop now. ‘The longer that Grubber stayed inside him the harder it would have been to get him out.’

  ‘A what?’ the coach finally asked.

  ‘A Grubber. It’s like a spirit. A spirit of a past Test player wanting to play cricket again.’

  ‘You’re talking rubbish, lad.’

  ‘It’s all right, Toby. We’ll sort this matter out,’ Mr Casboult reassured me.

  ‘If it wasn’t for the lads down there, I’d cancel this game here and now,’ the coach continued. Mr Casboult was saved from replying by a light knock on the door.

  ‘Mr Rummins,’ I pleaded, walking towards him. ‘Just tell me one thing. Was Freddy’s behaviour different when he came off the field today? Does he always bat like that?’ Mr Casboult opened the door. ‘Well?’

  Mr Rummins turned from the window and looked at me. ‘I’ll be honest with you. No, he wasn’t his normal self. Not at all.’ He looked down at his feet, his voice quieter. ‘He normally bats at six…’

  ‘He wasn’t wearing a helmet,’ I said, as Mr Casboult ushered Freddy and an England official into the room. We both turned.

  ‘Toby?’ Freddy stepped forwards shyly, holding out his hand. The manager of the England team stood behind him.

  ‘Now wait on a moment, Freddy,’ Mr Rummins began, trying to step in between us. He was keen to keep the atmosphere tense.

  ‘Hi,’ I said, shaking his hand. ‘Toby Jones. Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened out there.’

  ‘Um…’

  ‘I think we can leave these two boys here to chat for a while, don’t you, Ken?’ Brian Casboult said, walking towards the door.

  ‘Well, I’m not sure that’s a wise thing. What if…’

  ‘Come on, Ken,’ the England manager said. ‘The Aussies are shouting the bar tonight and they’ve arranged a highlights package of the 2005 Test series.’

  Ken Rummins hesitated.

  ‘It’s okay, Mr Rummins.’ Freddy looked up at him. ‘In a funny, weird sort of way.’

  ‘Here,’ the manager said, taking a business card out of his pocket. ‘You ring me at once if there’s any problem, you hear?’ Mr Casboult rolled his eyes gently and winked at me.

  ‘No throwing English cricketers through glass windows,’ he whispered as he walked past me.

  ‘Promise,’ I mouthed back.

  Freddy and I stayed up in the office for the next half-hour. We found a supply of snacks and a small fridge well stocked with all sorts of drinks.

  ‘Are you sure he won’t mind?’ he asked, as I threw him a bottle of lemon mineral water.

  ‘I reckon he can afford it,’ I laughed. I told Freddy the entire story—from the time I first met Jim and discovered I had the ability to use Wisdens to travel back in time. He listened attentively, only once stopping me to ask a question. It was a question others had asked me too.

  ‘Can you take me?’

  ‘Sure I could. But I’ve got a few other problems I have to solve.’ I asked Freddy to explain what it was like having the Grubber in him. Was he conscious of what was happening?

  ‘It was very strange,’ he said, after a pause. ‘It was like I had moved outside my body and I was watching from a distance. I couldn’t work out what was going on. And then slowly I sensed myself drifting back in.’

  ‘In?’

  ‘Into my body. I was saying things and hearing what I was saying but not really wanting to say them. But after a while it got easier. I sort of got more confident. But someone was talking for me; making decisions that I normally wouldn’t make.’

  ‘Like wanting to bat second drop?’

  ‘Yes. And then refusing to put the helmet on. That was very strange. When the wicket fell, I went to pick the helmet up, but for some reason I walked straight past it. I can remember one of the guys stopped me. Told me I’d forgotten it.’

  ‘And what did you say?’

  ‘I’ve never used one before and I’m not going to start using one now.’

  ‘Which, of course, isn’t true.’

  ‘No. I’ve been wearing them ever since I could hold a cricket bat.’

  ‘And what did the coaches say?’

  ‘Well, I was striding out of the room by then, but I think I heard Mr Rummins say, “Give him an over. He’ll come to his senses.”’

  ‘And then you belted us all round the park and they probably thought let’s not change anything here; Freddy’s on fire.’

  I was enjoying chatting to Freddy but I had to get in contact with Ally and the others and see what was happening with Georgie. ‘Freddy, is there anyone else on your team that might have been got at?’ I asked, standing.

  He shook his head. ‘No. Everyone’s their normal selves.’

  ‘Okay, well you keep me posted on stuff. Let me know first thing if there’s something bothering you.’

  ‘And you’ll come with your magic cricket ball.’

  ‘Something like that,’ I grinned.

  ‘Can I have a look at it?’ he asked. I pulled it out of my pocket. Mr Casboult had got one of the security guys to retrieve it from the seats in the stand.

  ‘It just looks like a normal cricket ball,’ he said, turning it around in his hand.

  ‘I know. But believe me, it’s not.’

  ‘Yeah, well just don’t use it on us tomorrow.’

  ‘If you bat like you did today, I might need to.’ I caught the ball from him and put it back in my pocket.
r />   ‘I don’t think I’ll ever hit the ball like that again,’ he sighed, standing up.

  ‘Freddy, remember—that wasn’t you hitting the ball.’

  ‘Can you find out who it was?’

  ‘Yeah, well we’re working on it.’ We shook hands, promising to catch up again either later that evening or some time tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to tell Jim what had happened, but first I needed to find Ally and the rest of them and see if they’d heard from Georgie.

  Brett Lee is the only player (to date) to record a hat-trick in international Twenty/20s. He achieved the feat in a game against Bangladesh in Cape Town, South Africa during the 2007/08 season.

  8

  Inside the Scoreboard

  Saturday—evening

  ‘Hey!’ I almost ran over Ally as I burst through the door. She and the others had been waiting just outside. ‘Any news?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘We were told not to disturb you,’ Rahul said, staring at Freddy as he passed us with a smile and a wave.

  ‘Is he the guy you threw the ball at?’ Jay asked. ‘What were you thinking?’

  I explained the situation as briefly and as quickly as possible. A worrying thought had been nagging away at me ever since Ally had first mentioned that Georgie was missing.

  ‘Georgie came out onto the field,’ I explained. ‘And that’s where the Grubber was. Maybe there was another one of them out there?’

  ‘Surely someone would have seen him?’ Rahul said.

  ‘No, that’s the whole point. I think I’m the only one who can see them. And Jim, of course.’

  ‘That’d be right,’ Jay said, sullenly. ‘It’s always just Toby. You’re the time traveller; you’re the kid who gets to…’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Jay,’ Ally snapped. ‘It’s the way it is.’

  ‘It’s not as if I went looking for this,’ I explained. I sensed that Jay had always found it difficult to come to terms with the fact that I’d stumbled upon Jim and the time travel. Perhaps his sudden outburst wasn’t that surprising.

  Ally rested a hand on my forearm. ‘What do we do?’ she asked, steering me towards the other side of the room.

  ‘Are you sure Georgie’s nowhere about?’

  ‘We’ve searched the whole place.’

  ‘We’ve been doing nothing else for the entire afternoon,’ Jay said, turning from the window.

  ‘Even the security people have been searching,’ Rahul added.

  ‘I got around to most of them and showed them the picture I have of her on my phone,’ Jay added.

  ‘What about her mum? Does she know?’ I asked.

  Ally looked down, avoiding eye contact. ‘We wanted to wait until we’d told you. We thought maybe there was a special place here.’ Her voice trailed.

  ‘I’m going to go and check on Jim. I’m a Cricket Lord now, so it doesn’t matter as much if I revisit a place I’ve been before.’

  ‘Toby, are you sure?’ Ally looked horrified, obviously recalling the frightening experiences she’d had seeing herself in the past.

  ‘I’m a Cricket Lord. Jim explained it to me. I can stay for unlimited periods of time and won’t be harmed if I meet myself.’

  ‘What good is that going to do?’ Jay asked.

  I took a deep breath. ‘Jim might know where a Grubber could have taken her,’ I explained.

  ‘If that’s what’s happened,’ Jay said, looking doubtful. ‘She probably just got bored watching the cricket here and went into town to go shopping.’

  ‘So why isn’t she answering her phone?’

  ‘I told you—the battery’s probably flat. Or she’s watching a movie and turned it off.’

  I looked at Ally. She was shaking her head.

  ‘No way. She would have told me.’ She glanced at me. ‘How long will you be?’

  ‘Not long. Just long enough to check on Jim and give him an update.’

  ‘Toby, we’ll wait here, okay?’ Rahul gave me an encouraging pat on the back.

  ‘Are you sure? Aren’t you due home soon?’

  ‘Leave it to us,’ Rahul smiled.

  ‘Can you tell Jimbo what’s happening? He might be wondering where the heck I am. Oh, yeah. I’ll need someone to guide my eyes to a zero in the Wisden.’

  ‘I’ll do that!’ Rahul said quickly.

  ‘Yeah, that’d be right. You got to go to India. You…’ Jay complained.

  ‘Hey!’ Rahul threw his hands up. ‘It’s okay, Jay. You can. It’s not like I’m going to time travel again.’

  ‘Come on, Jay. You do it.’ Maybe letting Jay help would settle him down a bit and make him a bit more pleasant to be around.

  Ally smiled. ‘Don’t be long, okay?’

  I had a moment of panic when I pushed at the locked library door, but then remembered that I had a Wisden upstairs in the room Jimbo and I were sharing during the cricket camp.

  ‘Any zero?’ Jay asked, opening up the Wisden.

  ‘Yep. Just make sure it’s from a cricket score and not a nought or something in writing.’

  ‘Hey, I know what to do. Here we go.’

  ‘Yeah, well just put my finger exactly on the spot and then let go, okay?’ I looked into the grey swirl of numbers and letters, just managing to make out a round zero next to my finger. ‘Okay?’ But Jay wasn’t letting go.

  ‘Are you sure you’ve got it?’ he asked.

  ‘Jay!’ I felt his hand release my finger as the rushing sound whooshed into my head. But as I sensed myself drifting away, he grabbed my hand again.

  ‘Nooooo. Jay?’ In slow motion I spun around, desperately trying to shake off his grip, but he held firm and I knew suddenly it was too late. If I did let go of him, who knows where he’d end up? The whooshing sound ebbed away slowly and I was left with that numb, empty feeling of being somewhere, but nowhere.

  I pushed Jay off me and got to my feet. I immediately felt the coldness pressing in, and the mist made it hard to see past the clump of trees we’d arrived next to.

  ‘Just shut up, Jay, and do as I say, all right?’

  Jay held up his hands in surrender. ‘Hey, no worries. You didn’t tell me we were coming back here.’

  ‘Jay!’ I snapped, glaring at him angrily. ‘I…’ And then my voice was sucked away and I was gasping for air.

  ‘Toby?’ Jay’s voice sounded miles away. My feet lifted off the ground slightly, and suddenly I was flying backwards through the air, my arms outstretched, fingers clawing at nothing but empty space.

  ‘Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!’ My voice was lost, drifting into nothingness. I caught a glimpse of Jay’s horrified face; he was too shocked to even move. Swinging my arms and legs to try and get balanced, I managed to glance around, just in time to see another Toby, standing alone, a cricket ball in his hand.

  ‘Oh no,’ I muttered, closing my eyes. ‘TOBY!’ I roared, trying to make my other self aware of what was about to happen. I was 10 metres away and closing in fast. Then my body swung upwards, and I spun around slightly, adopting the exact same position and stance as the Toby from only hours before.

  Bracing myself, I waited for the two bodies to meet, but instead of a bone-crunching collision I felt nothing but a weird, melting feeling as I stopped, merging into the Toby Jones standing there, arm outstretched, about to throw the ball.

  Was I me? Or was I now the Toby of earlier today?

  ‘Jay!’ I called, looking back up the hill towards the group of trees near the spot where we’d arrived. If I was me, surely Jay would be there. There was no answer. I set off in the direction I’d come from. There was also no sign of any Grubbers. ‘Jay, can you hear me?’

  ‘Toby?’ Jay appeared from behind one of the deadlooking trees, shivering.

  ‘Thank God,’ I said. I ran up to him and then stopped suddenly. His mouth was hanging open. ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘Toby?’ He took a step backwards, his eyes wide with fright.

  ‘What?’ I gasped as I looked down at myself. There was nothing to
see! I put my hands in front of my face; I was only just able to discern their outline.

  ‘Oh no,’ I moaned, a feeling of dread washing over me. Of course it was too good to be true that nothing would happen. ‘Come on, we’ve got to find Jim.’

  ‘Does that mean we’re going over there?’ I followed Jay’s gaze towards the oval. There didn’t appear to be any Grubbers anywhere.

  ‘Come on,’ I said, jogging across an open area. We ran for a few minutes, climbing a small rise, and then picked up a track that wound down to the oval on the opposite side of the scoreboard, which loomed over the ground, casting an eerie shadow of darkness on the far side.

  ‘Hey, there he is!’ Jay shouted. A solitary figure was slowly making his way up the grassy hill beneath the scoreboard itself.

  ‘Are you sure?’ I asked as we both sprinted around the rows of seats.

  ‘Jim?’ I called. The figure stopped and turned. Slowly he raised an arm in the air. Relieved, I rushed forward, Jay just behind me.

  ‘What?’ I asked, seeing the look of anguish on Jim’s face. ‘Am I going to be all right?’

  ‘Toby, my dear boy, of course you are,’ he said, trying to smile. He was looking past me. I turned around suddenly.

  ‘They’re not playing!’

  Jim nodded slowly. The two old umpires were standing in the middle of the pitch. Some fielders were slowly making their way towards a small green gate and the batters were standing with the rest of the fielders.

  ‘Are they real?’ Jay asked.

  ‘This game is the spirit of cricket. They are real enough, but when a player leaves the field, he disappears forever. He never returns.’ Jim turned to me.

  ‘Toby, have you got the ball with you?’

  ‘Jim, what…’

  ‘Give me the ball.’ I took it from my pocket and passed it to him. ‘You won’t feel anything, Toby. Just don’t catch the ball.’ Before I knew what was happening, Jim had thrown it firmly in my direction. I ducked instinctively, raising an arm to my face, but the ball followed me. There was a hissing sound as it connected with my shoulder, then nothing.

  ‘No way!’ Jay gasped, staring from me to the ball a few metres behind me.