by Emily Rodda
“A long way away, I think,” said Patrick quietly.
They stared at him, and suddenly Danny started to cry. “I don’t want Estelle to go,” he sobbed. “She’s my friend. She talks to me and makes me lovely honey biscuits.”
Patrick bit his lip. “I’ll talk to you, Danny, and be your friend,” he offered rashly. He’d probably regret this, he thought, but he couldn’t bear to see the little bloke miserable. He remembered being that age. You hated changes, and people going away.
Danny looked at him doubtfully, but stopped crying.
“I’ll make you honey biscuits, Danny,” Claire volunteered heroically.
By now Danny was almost smiling. “Now?” he squeaked, striking while the iron was hot.
She grinned at him. “OK.” They began to rummage in one of the cupboards.
“Margie from the kindergarten said she’d like some work after school. Maybe she’ll come,” Judith said to Paul. “I’ll ask her.”
Paul nodded thoughtfully. He was looking at Estelle’s note, turning it over in his hand. “It’s scrawled, as though she was in a hurry,” he said curiously. “It’s very odd. Not like Estelle at all, is it?”
“Margie is nice,” Danny chattered, watching Claire. He went over to Patrick and put his hand out. “Hey, Patrick, Margie is nice. She can tap dance and do cartwheels. She’s not like Estelle, but she’s nice.”
“Good, that’s good, Danny.” Patrick took the soft little hand in his, and smiled. Everything was turning out all right.
“Hey, Patrick,” Danny said experimentally. “Wanna see what I found at the shops?”
Patrick laughed. “OK,” he said. “OK.”
Danny’s room was tidier than any of the other bedrooms because Judith always cleaned it up herself before she put Danny to bed. Patrick looked around. It was light and bright and full of Danny’s bits and pieces, all lined up on shelves and clustered on his bedside table.
“See?” Danny held out a rusty horseshoe. “I found it in the gutter. Mum says it’s good luck, and she’ll hang it on my door. It’s off a horse,” he added, in case Patrick didn’t know.
“That’s pretty good, Danny,” Patrick nodded, weighing the horseshoe in his hand, and looking round the small room with interest. Danny was a little bowerbird, all right. He had quite a lot of interesting stuff.
“OK,” said Danny, suddenly losing interest. “Let’s go back and see the honey biscuits now.” He took the horseshoe back and put it carefully away. “Let’s go. Patrick! Patrick!” He tugged at his brother’s hand. “Come on! That’s old stuff. Patrick?”
But Patrick was walking across the room. He was staring at something on the shelf. He was reaching up and taking the thing down. He was looking wordlessly at his brother and back at what he was holding. Then his lips began to move.
“I’m pink and soft, with bright blue eyes,
My ears are floppy, larger size,
Around my neck there is a bow,
So you can take me when you go.
And if you pull my yellow ring,
A song about a star I sing.”
“What?” Danny bounded impatiently over to him. “That’s just an old rabbit I found. A long time ago. It sings. See?” He pulled the pale yellow ring on the rabbit’s tummy. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star,” tinkled the rabbit.
Patrick shook his head. “It was here all the time,” he whispered.
“Do you like it, Patrick?” asked Danny curiously. That was funny. Patrick hadn’t seemed very interested in things like toy pink rabbits before. Patrick had certainly changed. Then Danny had an idea. “You can have the rabbit, if you like, Patrick,” he offered generously. “That can be your prize for Finders Keepers. OK?” He looked at Patrick anxiously. “OK?”
“Thanks, mate,” said Patrick.
Danny was delighted. He found a sticky yellow label and made Patrick write his name on it. He stuck the label to the rabbit’s furry pink back. “Now everyone knows its yours, Patrick, and no one will steal it,” he explained seriously.
“Thanks, mate,” said Patrick again, gently. “You go down now. I’ll be there in a minute.”
When Danny had clattered down the stairs, Patrick took the rabbit to his own room. It sat on his desk looking foolishly at him, one faded pink ear flopped over one pale blue eye.
“It’s too late, you silly thing,” he said to it. And after a while he wandered back downstairs.
The next day was Monday. The usual morning panic was in full swing.
“Paul,” Judith bellowed up the stairs. “Have you seen the car keys?”
“On the kitchen bench, Jude,” roared Paul from the bathroom.
“They’re not there,” Judith shouted back.
In his room, Patrick grinned to himself and began putting on his shoes and socks.
“They are!” Paul called impatiently. “I put them there not three minutes ago.”
“Well, they’re not there now! I’ve looked. And I’ve got to get Danny to kindy. You must have …”
“They’re there, I tell you. Look properly!”
“Oohh!!”
“I’m coming down! They’re there! And if I find them, Judith, I’ll …”
Patrick stopped grinning and sat bolt upright. He dropped the shoe he was holding, took the pink rabbit in his hand and shot out of his room. He overtook his father on the stairs and pulled at his arm.
“Quick, Dad! Hurry up! Quick!”
“What on earth …?” Paul stumbled over the last stair. “This family … Mad as snakes, all of you. Comes from your mother’s side, you know. Patrick – stop pushing me!”
Into the kitchen – over to the cluttered bench – by now Judith was searching the top of the dresser.
“Dad, Dad – where were the keys? Where did you see them?”
“What’s the matter, Patrick!”
“Dad, where?” Patrick was literally dancing with frustration and excitement.
“They were there. Between the milk and the kettle. Right there.” Paul’s long, brown finger planted itself firmly on the bench, to mark the spot.
And quick as a flash, before Judith had even had time to humph in disbelief, Patrick had hurled the faded pink rabbit, his third and last Find, at the place where the keys had been.
There was a flash, and a soft, tearing sound, like a cushion ripping under the weight of a rash boy’s fist. Judith gave a little scream, Paul yelled, and the milk tipped over.
And when Patrick opened his eyes – the rabbit had gone.
The milk was cleaned up, eventually. The car keys were found – near where Paul had said, under a magazine. Judith said they weren’t there before. Paul said she just hadn’t looked properly. The sugar bowl turned up, too. Judith had been sure she’d put it away. No one said anything about the rabbit.
Patrick wondered whether they’d seen what happened. They seemed to think the electric kettle had fused and made the flash when Paul knocked over the milk, pointing. Patrick didn’t feel like trying to change their minds. Much later, he asked Paul about the glimmering specks and threads he thought he’d seen floating in the warm air of the kitchen that morning. Paul said it was the sun lighting up the specks of dust that whirled around in the air all the time, though you mostly didn’t notice them. Patrick nodded and said nothing. Of course that might have been what he’d seen. But then again …
He went off to school thinking of Ruby, or one of her friends, or one of the red-uniformed Barrier Guards, picking up the rabbit and hugging it in delight. It would be lying, he thought, somewhere near where Claire’s earring had been found. He imagined them bearing the rabbit off in triumph to Wendy. He thought how pleased she would be. He wished he’d had time to write a note to go with it. Then he remembered Danny’s yellow label. His name was on the Find! Wendy would know who had sent it, after all.
22
Keep in Touch
On the way home from school that afternoon, Patrick stood thinking for a while after Michael had turned off
into his own street. Then he ran as fast as he could to the computer shop. This time the man was in a good mood, and just made a funny face and shrugged when he saw Patrick slip in the doorway and make for the computer in the middle of the back wall.
Patrick played Quest for ten minutes and found five lots of treasure before giving up. Nothing was going to happen. He’d really known that from the beginning. He’d just felt he had to try.
He walked slowly from the shop and set off for home, not knowing if he felt sorry or glad. It wasn’t as if he missed the excitement of Barrier-hopping. Far from it. He’d had enough adventure to do him for quite a while. No, he didn’t miss that at all. And he didn’t miss the idea of winning more prizes, either. He’d cared about the prizes at first, then other things had started to matter more.
But Boopie, Wendy – even Max … yes, he missed them: the people he’d got to know so well in such a little time. The people who’d been kind to him, and had shared the biggest adventure of his whole life. He would have liked to see them again, to know how they were, to talk to them. And Estelle … it was hard to believe that Estelle had gone out of his life for ever.
He began to walk towards home again. Mum would be home this afternoon. Margie, Estelle’s replacement, wouldn’t be starting till next week.
As he opened the front gate he saw Danny’s face peeping through the window. The face brightened, then abruptly disappeared.
“Mum! Mum! He’s here!” The high-pitched voice echoed in the hall, and running footsteps clattered to the door. Patrick grinned. What did Danny have lined up for him to do, that he’d been waiting so impatiently?
The door swung open. Danny popped out like a squeezed orange pip, and grabbed him around the waist. “Patrick, Patrick, come and look!”
Judith looked excited too. “In the kitchen!” she said. “Come on, darling. We’re dying to see what it is!”
Patrick followed them in amazement. What was all this?
A big box stood on the kitchen table. A very big box, with two labels. “FRAGILE” read one. “HANDLE WITH CARE.” But it was the other label, with his address on it, that made Patrick begin to tear away the wrapping with trembling fingers. “To Patrick, Champion Finder,” it read. “Congratulations from Finders Keepers.”
Two minutes later Patrick was staring in disbelief at his own, his very own, Ezy-way computer.
“And look at all the games,” exclaimed Judith. “Patrick, did you know this was coming? How on earth did you keep it a secret, you clever boy?”
“I didn’t know,” Patrick said slowly. “I don’t see how …” And then, he realised how.
“Well, it’s the strangest thing,” Judith said. “Lyn down the street found it in her back garden about an hour ago. She was down there gardening, and apparently she lost her trowel – you know how you do – and she was looking all round for it, and suddenly she saw this huge box sitting under the clothesline with the sheets flapping all round it. She hadn’t noticed it there before, she said, but she’s terribly vague, as you know, so heaven knows how long it had been there really. And it had our address on it. So she called me, and we brought it home. These delivery people are really hopeless, aren’t they? I mean, imagine delivering something so valuable to the wrong house! And just dumping it in the garden!”
Patrick grinned. “They didn’t do too badly really,” he said. He thought about Boopie, Wendy and Estelle trying to work out exactly where the pink rabbit had fallen through the Barrier, then pushing the computer through the nearest weak spot. Old Ruby had probably helped them. They’d taken a risk. He hoped they hadn’t got into trouble.
“Patrick’s lucky,” said Danny enviously.
“He sure is,” Judith agreed. “Will you be able to use it, Patrick? It looks complicated. You don’t want to break it.”
“Oh, it’s a bit like Michael’s, and the one at school, only better,” Patrick said. “I can use it.” He ran a finger over the computer’s gleaming light-grey surface.
“And me? And me?” Danny was jumping up and down.
“Only when and if Patrick says, Danny,” said Judith firmly. “And when you’re a bit older.”
“Aw, Mum!”
“Never mind, darling. All things come to him who waits,” teased Judith cheerfully. “Have another honey biscuit. Claire’ll be home soon. Then we can carry all this upstairs to Patrick’s room, where it belongs.”
That night, the sound of music thudded through the wall from Claire’s room, and a TV show played downstairs as Patrick sat with his fingers on the keyboard of the new computer. It was all plugged in and connected up now. He had already gone through the training program, just to satisfy Paul that he knew what he was doing, and played through a few levels of Temple of Terror 2 with Claire looking over his shoulder. He’d discovered how to adjust the screen to maximum whiteness so that the pale printing could be clearly seen.
Now he was sitting quietly, just playing around, getting used to the idea that he had a computer at last. It had all happened so quickly. He kept thinking it just couldn’t be true. But it was. The proof was there, quietly humming, in front of him. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out the white card he’d found tucked into the keyboard. He read it one more time.
Dearest Patrick,
Small pink furry item gratefully received early this morning and delivered to rightful owner who was ecstatic and did the right thing by Wendy. Hope your prize reaches you safely. We’re having to guess the exact place to put it. Ruby was a bit vague, as you got her a good one on the nose with the bunny when you threw it through. But Estelle knew your address, so we’re sure it’ll get to you in the end.
Love,
Boopie, Wendy, Max and Estelle.
PS Keep smiling, and keep in touch!
Patrick tapped the card with his fingernail and grinned. How did they think he was going to keep in touch? Hang round waiting for things to disappear and throw notes after them, he supposed. That sounded like a Boopie sort of idea. He could just hear Max snorting, and saying how silly it was.
But having the computer, and their card, comforted him very much. It made him feel as though he hadn’t really lost them after all.
He delved into the cardboard box of games. He still hadn’t explored it properly – he’d been so eager to try Temple of Terror. Chess, Wordgames, Sport ‘n’ Speed, Space Cadet, Dragon Castle – this was great! – Mirror Maze, Skillmaster, Super Punch … so many of them … and at the bottom a small, plain box. He pulled it out and studied it. Inside was a disk simply marked “From Max”. They must have sent him a blank one, for him to fill in himself. Or …
Slowly he pulled the disk from the box. He fitted it into the Ezy-way computer. The computer beeped and hummed. The screen darkened, and then went white. His heart began to beat faster. Then the first words appeared.
WHO ARE YOU? they demanded.
Patrick stared. PATRICK, he typed slowly, and waited.
Again the computer hummed and beeped importantly, and then the words came with a rush.
WE FOUND YOU! WE KNEW WE WOULD! WE’VE BEEN WAITING. MAXIE SAID WE’D NEVER DO IT. SUCKS TO MAXIE! SWEETIE-PIE, DO YOU LIKE THE COMPUTER? MAXIE SAYS YOU CAN KEEP IN TOUCH WHENEVER YOU LIKE THIS WAY … LUCKY’S STILL IN PIECES SO I’M HAVING THE BEST HOLIDAY … ESTELLE SENDS HER LOVE. WENDY TOO. HER FRIEND RUBY FOUND A DIAMOND DOG’S COLLAR YESTERDAY. SHE’S WEARING IT EVERYWHERE. CAN YOU IMAGINE? NEXT WEEK WENDY GOES BACK TO WORK – THE SAME SENTRY BOX AND EVERYTHING. SHE’S TICKLED PINK. LET US KNOW IF YOU LOSE ANYTHING. NOW WE KNOW YOUR PLACE MUST BE JUST ACROSS THE BARRIER FROM WENDY AND RUBY’S BEAT. WE’RE NEIGHBOURS! WHAT FUN …
Patrick sat back in his chair. He smiled broadly as he watched the screen filling up with Boopie’s message. He wondered if the others would ever get a turn. He wondered if he would.
Not that it mattered. His heart felt too full, just now, for him to be able to say anything at all. He thought about Judith and Paul and Claire and Danny. He thought about Estelle and Wendy and Max
and Boopie Cupid. He thought about the things he’d seen and done on their side of the Barrier, and all the things still to do and see on this side. And then for some reason he thought about his friend Michael, and the game they always played. “What would you do if you had a million dollars?” he imagined Michael asking.
Patrick laughed aloud. Because just now he couldn’t think of one single thing.
The Author
Emily Rodda is the author of the outstandingly successful Deltora Quest and Rowan novels and has won the CBCA’s Book of the Year (Younger Readers) Award a record five times. In 1995 she received the Dromkeen Medal for services to Australian children’s literature. Her books are internationally successful, and she is one of Australia’s most popular children’s authors.
FINDERS KEEPERS 2:
THE TIMEKEEPER
Emily Rodda
The thrilling sequel to Finders Keepers!
Now that Patrick’s amazing treasure hunt across two worlds is over, he can use his prize computer to keep in touch with his friends beyond the Barrier. But why won’t the computer work? Why does SYSTEM ERROR keep appearing on the screen?
To contact his friends Max and Boopie Cupid and Estelle, Patrick has to cross the Barrier once more. And this time he finds himself involved in something much more important than a TV game show.
Two worlds – the real world and the world across the Barrier – are in terrible danger. Only Patrick, the champion Finder, can save them from destruction. He will have to move faster than he has ever moved in his life. Can he possibly win the race against time?
Published by Scholastic Australia
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