There was a small circular handle like the steering wheel on top of the tank. She crawled towards it. Grabbing the handle she twisted. It was stiff at first but quickly loosened in her grip. Her heart pounded as the sounds of the fight reached up from the factory floor. She pulled back the handle with all her strength and it opened up into the tank. Ripping the cork from the flask, she kissed the murky glass and emptied the contents into the tea below. Then she closed up the door and climbed back down the ladder.
She descended the stairs avoiding the fight and made her way back towards the barrel room. Boy, as he said he would be, was waiting there. With a quick nod, she followed her friend through the steam towards the exit.
Once outside, the pair sprinted across the yard, hid their coats in a barrel in the smaller shed and ran as fast as they could away from the factory.
CHAPTER 28
A Powerful Fear
They didn’t stop running until they were just outside the centre of No Mans Land.
“Did you…did you…?” Boy said, bending over by a tree to catch his breath.
“Yes,” Violet panted.
“No one saw?”
“No I don’t think so. They were all too busy with the fight.”
Boy looked confused and Violet filled him in on her adventures on their way to William Archer’s. It was early morning in No Mans Land and strangely all was quiet. There were hardly any stalls, nobody was begging and even the orphans had all but disappeared.
“That’s her!” a woman snarled, rushing out from her lopsided home.
Another woman, about Violet’s Mams age, grabbed her by the coat pulling Violet roughly back.
“The cheek of you!” the woman roared, “Don’t you think we have it hard enough without setting the Watchers on us?”
“Let go of me,” Violet screamed, “I haven’t done anything!”
“Not yet young one but you’re trying, you and that boyfriend of yours. Just leave us alone! We’re as happy as can be expected here. We don’t need any trouble!”
“She hasn’t done anything,” Boy shouted pulling Violet away from the woman.
“They’re talking revolution in Will Archer’s place all night and day. Know anything about that do you?” the woman said, almost nose to nose with Boy, her rancid breath licked his skin.
Quickly Boy grabbed Violet’s arm and the pair ran off in the direction of William Archer’s. They raced through the tiny streets and without knocking pushed open the door of the ramshakled house.
The room was full with people and they had to slip through a sea of legs to get near the front of the gathering. Many were faces from the streets of No Mans Land but there were others Violet didn’t know at all. Some were happy but most grunted and growled as William spoke at the top of the room. The place was stuffy and smelt of old men, Violet held her nose as she squeezed past another bulging belly.
“What about the Watchers?” a man shouted, from the back of the room.
“I’m not sure what will happen with them if I’m honest,” William Archer said from his pulpit, an old wooden stool, “I think we may have to fight. I’m not a young man but I am willing to give my fists an airing if you are gents…oh and ladies of course.”
“We’ll never beat them,” another man called.
“We will with a bit of luck,” William replied, “I am banking on the fact that our friends and families in Perfect will join us once they see we’re alive.”
“And how do you propose they’ll see us, hasn’t that been the problem all along William? I think it’s time to stop this talk. It’s doing none of us any good. We’re here to stay and it’s about time some of us accepted that!”
“A man of your imagination stands defeated Fredrick?” William replied, looking straight into the eyes of the man who spoke, “they will see again, I promise you.”
“Promises you can’t keep old man!”
“He can keep them,” Violet said, angrily stepping out from the crowd.
“Violet!” William exclaimed, jumping down from his chair, “Thank heavens you’re alright. And Boy is he with you?”
“He’s there,” Violet said, pointing to her friend who had shyly stepped back into the crowd.
“How did you get on?” William whispered anxious.
Violet pulled the empty flask from her pants and handed it to the old man. Grabbing it in both hands, William held the bottle tightly to his chest, and inhaled long and deep.
“They’ll see again,” he shouted.
Jumping back onto the stool he shoved the flask into the air for all to see.
“My two little friends made sure of that!”
The room began to whisper. William stared out at the gathered crowd until all had fallen silent then he explained the tea factory plan.
“It’ll take a few days, possibly two before the antidote begins to take effect. Then I assure you when we walk down the streets of Perfect our families will see us! After that we zap them with the Reimaginator and Perfect will fall.”
“The what?” a voice laughed, at the end of the room.
“The Reimaginator,” William repeated, “You see they are stealing our loved one’s imaginations; that’s how my brothers control them. Not only do they not see us because of that blasted tea but they also don’t question anything. Our disappearance, the regime in Perfect; nothing seems out of the ordinary to them as they have lost the ability to question. They’ve lost independent thought.”
“Well I’m delighted I stayed to hear you answer our questions William because now I know for sure that you are crazy. I’m out,” a big burly man said, walking to the door.
Others began to move towards the exit passing out in silence.
“Why now William?” another man asked, “I mean I was with you at the beginning but we all gave up. What’s happened to bring back your fight?”
“It’s Macula, Merrill. They have her. I gave up because I had nothing to fight for. I thought she’d left me. I didn’t exist. Then with the help of Violet and Boy here I found out she’s still alive. It’s brought back the fight.”
“Look we are in No Mans Land because we are different!” William shouted, addressing those slipping from the room, “Where has your imagination gone? Where is the fight? This is not Perfect but you are all acting like it is!”
“Grow up Archer! No Mans Land is our lot, what’s the point in fighting? If you draw the Watchers down on us you’ll have me to answer to!” a man roared at William as he left the house.
The crowd steadily filtered from the room and William Archer, accepting defeat, stepped down from the stool, crushed.
“They sound just like I did not so long ago,” he said, his head in his hands, “they’ve lost the fight. If only my brothers knew they didn’t need to steal imaginations to control us!”
Violet stepped forward.
“It’s okay,” she said, “we can still do it. I know it will be harder just us but we can do it.”
“Violet,” William smiled, looking up at her, “you’re a lovely child. Your enthusiasm knows no bounds but in this case, three against many will not suffice.”
“What about four?” someone said, stepping out from the shadows.
“Merrill! I presumed you’d left with the others?”
“No William, I thought about it I must confess,” Merrill smiled, “but I missed the old William and the adventures we had taking on your brothers. My toys serve me well but they are not a substitute for my family. It’s time to get them back! Where do I sign up?”
William Archer stood up from his stool and wrapped his arms around his old friend.
“Merrill Marx?” Violet asked.
“Why yes, have we met before?”
“No but I have just come from your factory.”
Violet was filling Merrill in on their adventures, when Boy, who had been sitting quietly by the window, rose and walked towards the group.
“I know where we can get an army,” he said.
All att
ention turned towards him.
“They might be a little small but they’ll have lots of energy,” he smiled.
CHAPTER 29
Little Helpers
After a quick nap, Violet and Boy spent the rest of the day discussing their plans, while William and Merrill worked on the Reimaginator. By nightfall the machine hummed.
“I knew it’d only take a tweak,” William smiled, proudly polishing the brass, “now all we need are a few imaginations and she’ll be purring again.”
“We’re going to sort that out now,” Boy smiled, “they should be in bed by eight.”
“Are you sure this plan will work?” Merrill asked.
“Of course Mr. Marx,” Violet replied, “Nothings ever difficult for children, adults are much more complicated…”
“You remember the meeting point William?” Boy interrupted, “We should reach it by morning.”
“Don’t worry Boy, we’ll be there with this old girl.”
Boy and Violet said goodbye to their friends and, for the second time in as many days, left William Archer’s house under the cover of darkness. Violet followed Boy predicting every turn they took; No Mans Land was no longer a mystery. The streets now were quiet, the Watchers patrolling more vigorously than ever before. The pair snuck round corners until they eventually stood by the huge iron gates. They squeezed through the partial opening and around to the side door. After a quick jig of the handle, they were standing in the enormous hallway of the orphanage.
“This way,” Boy whispered, tiptoeing down the tiled floor.
The place was dark and cold. Fear crawled up Violet’s spine. They reached a wooden stairwell and climbed two floors, then walked down another hallway to a set of wooden double doors.
“Be really quiet,” Boy mouthed, pushing them open.
He slipped in through the narrow gap, Violet in toe.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
Doing as told, Violet stood by the base of a metal-framed bunk bed. A small thin figure moved beneath a threadbare blanket in the bottom bed. There were at least twenty bunks in the oversized room, all occupied with similar small figures.
The air was cold and wisps of foggy breath danced in front of her nose. Moans and groans followed Boy as he quietly made his way from bed to bed pulling each child gently from their sleep. When he finally got back to Violet, the room hummed with whispers.
“Shush,” Boy said, putting a finger to his lips, “I’m going to turn on the light now. I have a favour to ask. Please don’t make a sound or the nurses will come rushing down here and we know what will happen then.”
The room filled with shushes and giggles.
“Not a sound,” Boy warned, switching on the light.
There was a faint flicker from above. Then another, this one lasting a little longer, then the light came to life. Forty miniature, messy haired heads peered out from under dirty sheets.
“What is it Boy?” a little girl in one of the upper bunks asked, grabbing the railing that ran round the edge of her bed, “is it Santy?”
“No Monica,” Boy smiled, “It’s not Santa. I have a job that I want you to help me with. If it works you’ll go back to your families.”
“Just me?” Monica asked.
“No I need everybody’s help,” Boy smiled.
“Really, we’ll really go home?” a fella a little younger than Boy said, jumping up on his mattress, “Like home, home Boy? You’re not joking are ya?”
“No, no, I’m not joking. You’ll go home, I promise.”
“Well then I’m in, I don’t care what it is!”
“You can come live in my house Boy,” Monica said, “cause you don’t have one.”
“Thanks Mon,” Boy smiled, lifting the little girl into his arms, “Now listen. I want you all to think about this really hard ‘cause it’s going to be dangerous.”
“Wohoo, danger!” another little boy laughed, jumping up and down on his bed.
Boy and Violet spent the next few hours explaining the plan to the orphans. Each was as excited as the next and it took a lot of “shushing” to avoid waking the nurses. By ten that night everyone was dressed, ready and waiting.
“I really hope this works Boy,” Violet whispered.
“It will.”
“You know,” she continued, as she helped stuff decoy pillows under the empty blankets, “you can come live in my house too.”
“Thanks Violet,” he smiled.
A few minutes later, room ready and lights off, the army of forty strong slipped out into the hallway. Surprisingly the children remained deadly quiet and they left the orphanage without a hitch.
“I thought we’d never get them out that quietly,” Violet whispered, as Boy closed the entrance doors.
“They know what the nurses are like. If we got caught we’d all be in for a beating!” Boy smiled.
In the yard they split into five groups. Violet, Boy and three of the older kids were in charge of one each. Boy’s group would lead the way with Violet’s taking up the rear.
“If we get divided,” Boy whispered, just before he left, “we’ll meet at the entrance to the Ghost Estate. You all know how to get there?”
Everyone nodded.
One by one the groups left until it was Violet’s turn. The coast was clear. She beckoned the others forward. The night was dark, pitch black and it was hard to spot Watchers as they navigated the lonely streets. Violet stuck to the walls travelling as much in the shadows as possible. The others were nowhere to be seen.
“We need to go faster,” she whispered.
They picked up the pace and were now jogging through the alleyways. The group coped well and were making good ground. Everything was running smoothly until a loud smack filled the street followed quickly by a high-pitched cry.
“She pushed me,” a little girl roared, holding her elbow, “she pushed me. My elbowwwww!”
“Shush,” Violet whispered, rushing back to the girl’s side, “Shusssh. You have to be quiet. The Watchers will catch us.”
“But my elbow is sore,” the girl cried, tears streaming down her face.
“Please stop crying.”
“Oi who goes there?” a deep voice shouted.
There was a figure at the other end of the street, barely visible in the darkness. Violet turned quickly to the girl accused of pushing and grabbed the shawl that wrapped her shoulders. Throwing the tattered material over her own head she whispered to the others to hide and grabbed the hand of the sobbing girl.
“You have to be brave and you have to agree with everything I say. Understand?”
The girl shook her head and even more tears streamed down her face.
“What are you two doing out here?” the Watcher snarled, moving down the road towards them.
“My sister fell,” Violet replied, her voice shaky.
“I can see that but it doesn’t answer my question little girl.”
“We were at the market,” Violet stuttered, pulling the shawl tighter around her, “we’re on our way home.”
“The market closed a few hours ago, it’s taken you a long time to get back?”
“We got lost.”
“Where do you live?” the Watcher asked, moving closer.
Violet’s heart stopped. What were the street names in No Mans Land? Her cheeks burned. Her mind was blank. What were the street names?
“Moore Street,” the little girl sobbed.
Her breath caught, she squeezed the girl’s hand. The Watcher looked at Violet then at the little girl without uttering a word.
“Well you better be getting back there then,” he said eventually, “haven’t you heard there’s a curfew in No Mans Land?”
“Yes, I’m sorry Sir,” Violet replied, looking at her feet, “we’ll go now. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
They slipped past the giant. Violet’s heart pounded so hard the Watcher must have heard.
“Oi?” he called after them, as they neared the street corner.
Violet stiffened. Running away would make things worse. She turned slowly on the spot.
“You sure you know where you’re going this time?”
“Yes,” she answered, almost whispering.
“Moore Street is that way,” he said, pointing to his left.
“Oh em…thanks,” Violet replied, and quickly took the direction he’d indicated.
The Watcher stood on the spot, his eyes suspiciously followed them until they rounded the corner. The pair kept walking incase he pursued. After a few minutes, when they were in the clear, Violet loosened her grip on the girl and stopped. Lowering onto her honkers she let out a long slow breath.
“I’m sorry Violet,” the little girl said, putting an arm around her, “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“You didn’t,” Violet whispered, “You saved us.”
The pair waited for a while in the shadow of a doorway before returning to the group.
“You all did great,” Violet smiled, sounding as positive as possible, “Now let’s go, the others will be wondering where we got to.”
CHAPTER 30
Return To The Room Of Imaginations
They resumed their journey this time without a sound. They reached the entrance to the Ghost Estate shaken and late. The other groups sat huddled by the wall barely visible. Violet jumped as Boy ran out from the darkness.
“Boy,” she wheezed, “please don’t do that. I thought you were another Watcher.”
“What do you mean another?”
“We met one on the street. I don’t think he noticed anything though. I said we were lost and he seemed to believe me.”
A Place Called Perfect Page 13
