Von Gobstopper's Arcade (14 page)

Theo reassured the others that Captain Pluck could take care of himself. The doctor, on the other hand, would be out of breath from pursuing him in just a few minutes. The group descended a steep staircase into a crypt-like room, where they found a fragile old man sitting in a rocking chair with his hands and feet bound. Milli and Ernest recognised him instantly—this was a face that had become familiar all around the globe.

‘Uncle!’ Fritz cried out, distressed to see the toymaker in such a state. He took Von Gobstopper’s papery hand and peered at him.

The sound of his nephew’s voice seemed to stir Von Gobstopper out of his stupor. ‘Fritz?’ he asked. His voice was like sandpaper, scratchy from lack of use. ‘What are you doing here? How did you find me?’

‘I’ve been here all the time,’ answered Fritz. ‘I just didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry I couldn’t come for you sooner.’

‘How could you have known? They did a good job hiding me.’

Loyal coughed and Fritz nodded as he caught the rocking horse’s eye. There would be time for explanations later, when they had reached the safety of the Resistance’s underground headquarters.

Ernest and Theo supported Von Gobstopper’s frail frame like a puppet as Fritz untied his bonds. They all made for the stairs. The toymaker, although dazed, realised their intentions and allowed himself to be directed. He looked as if he’d woken from a prolonged sleep.

When they reached the hideaway, Fritz settled his uncle into a chair. Milli and Earnest were now able to study the toymaker properly. Gustav Von Gobstopper had attained a Rastafarian look from months of neglect. He certainly looked different from the publicity portraits they had seen of him. His face was unshaven and his thin hair unkempt. His body looked as small and shrunken as a balloon after a party. His shoulders sagged and there were dark circles under his eyes. His corduroy trousers were dusty
and the green vest patterned with woolly bunnies was frayed at the edges. But despite the overwhelming sense of weariness he conveyed, his blue eyes still held a sparkle.

‘Are you all right?’ Fritz asked. ‘Did they mistreat you?’

‘I am fine, just a little stiff, that’s all. I was foolish, my boy, allowing myself to be duped like this.’

‘Are you aware, Uncle, that terrible things are happening in the arcade?’ Fritz said gently, not wishing to alarm the toymaker but not wanting to conceal the truth from him either.

‘Hush, Fritz,’ Von Gobstopper said. ‘I know what is going on in my arcade. Who have you brought with you?’ He took off his dusty spectacles and rubbed them on his trouser leg before putting them back on. ‘Loyal!’ he exclaimed in gleeful recognition. ‘And the valiant Theo! You here too, my little Pascal—but how unhappy you look. It is so comforting to see you all again. Come closer and let me see that you are unharmed.’

In the reunion that followed, the toys behaved much like children and Von Gobstopper like a
doting parent. It made Milli and Ernest think of their own parents and how worried they must be by now. They also felt a surge of guilt for having lied, even if their intentions had been good.

‘And I see you have found friends to lend a hand,’ the toymaker said, turning his attention to the children.

‘I could not have done it without them,’ acknowledged Fritz. ‘Uncle, meet Milli Klompet and Ernest Perriclof.’

‘Ah,’ Von Gobstopper smiled in recognition. ‘I know those names. These are the two that led the other children to safety. I have heard much about you both. I extend my thanks to you, Milli and Ernest,’ the toymaker said, shaking their hands with a formal solemnity.

Although Von Gobstopper had just escaped real danger, he didn’t seem particularly flustered by it, Ernest thought.

‘I can see that you are all wondering what is going on,’ the old man said. ‘It is a long story but I am happy to tell you the abridged version, should you be willing to hear it.’

Everyone nodded, curious to hear what he had to say.

‘Well,’ he gave a heavy sigh, ‘it all began a long time ago in a small village where an accomplished carpenter carved a puppet from a block of pine. The man’s name was Geppetto and his loneliness was great. His dearest wish was for a boy to call his own, and his wish was unexpectedly granted by a Blue Fairy, who gave the puppet life and assigned a cricket to act as the puppet’s guardian and conscience. The puppet was named Pinocchio and Geppetto loved him as if he were his own flesh and blood. But Pinocchio was constantly being lured into trouble and caused Geppetto only strife. All the boy wanted was to prove his worth, and he was finally able to do so one day when he rescued his creator from the belly of a monstrous whale. It was only then that the Blue Fairy turned Pinocchio into a real boy.’

‘It’s a beautiful story,’ Milli said. ‘But what does it have to do with the arcade?’

‘Ah,’ said Von Gobstopper, ‘I have something my kidnappers desperately want. Geppetto kept a notebook in which he recorded all of his inventions, as well as the spell to summon the Blue Fairy. Her power to bring toys to life would
prove invaluable to our enemy. They only keep me here in the hope that I will reveal its whereabouts.’

‘Do you know the spell to summon the Blue Fairy?’ Milli breathed.

Von Gobstopper smiled. ‘I do.’

‘And the notebook?’ Ernest asked.

‘That will never be found,’ Von Gobstopper said decisively.

‘But, Mr Von Gobstopper, they won’t stop until they do find it,’ warned Ernest.

‘They can try as much as they like, but the book no longer exists. I decided to burn it after reading its contents.’

‘Why did you do that, Uncle?’ asked Fritz. ‘Isn’t the knowledge it contained now lost forever?’

‘Ah,’ mused Von Gobstopper, ‘I am of the opinion, dear boy, that too much knowledge can be a dangerous thing. But do not fear—the knowledge is safely stored in this old brain. When the time is right it will be passed on to you, Fritz, for safe keeping.’

E
ven though Milli and Ernest were shivering when they helped each other clamber back through Ernest’s bedroom window, they had something more important than the cold on their minds—the time. It was so late, they knew they were unlikely to escape without some serious questioning by their parents. What they weren’t expecting was to find both their mothers lying in wait for them.

Mrs Perriclof leapt out of her chair, bundled Ernest into a dressing gown and felt his forehead, but Mrs Klompet stared at her daughter with her arms folded. There was relief in her face but not enough to obliterate the disappointment.
When she spoke her words came out slightly wooden, the way they sometimes do when parents have had too much time to think about what they want to say. She sounded as though she was reading out the instructions on the back of a cake mix packet.

‘Milli, I regret to inform you that you are grounded until further notice. You will be escorted to and from school each day as you are clearly not ready for independence. You are both incredibly selfish children to make your parents worry about you like this. Now, get into the car. Your father and Dorkus must be frantic by now.’

‘We have a very good reason—’ began Milli.

‘I don’t wish to hear explanations,’ interrupted her mother, raising her hand the way a traffic officer might.

‘How could you be so thoughtless?’ added Ernest’s mother. ‘Going out in the middle of winter so flimsily dressed. I’m going downstairs immediately to get you both a spoonful of my Fortifying Fish-Tail Tonic.’

‘I think the occasion calls for a ladleful,’ said a stern-faced Mrs Klompet.

Milli could hardly bear the tedium of the next few days. She marvelled at Ernest’s ability to focus on his lessons when she could do nothing but relive their experiences in the arcade over and over in her mind. Everything else happening around her was a blur. She barely noticed when Mr Sparks set alight a manila folder full of their lab reports whilst attempting to demonstrate the use of a Bunsen burner. She didn’t jump back with the others when Articulus Barnes, their elocution master, spat on them during a speech designed to display the power of rhetoric. Nor did she did register why everyone cheered in PE when Gummy Grumbleguts managed to complete the obstacle course without falling into his usual hyperventilating heap. The accumulation of knowledge seemed pointless when the lives of her friends were at stake. What did it matter what the latitudinal position of Trinidad was, or how to calculate the square root of X, if Von Gob Toys died out? On the other hand, Milli knew that she must go about her daily life as
normal or risk exposing everything and putting the toys in even graver danger. For once she would have to be patient.

Things were strained at home and it troubled her that a note of suspicion had crept into her parents’ conversations with her. Milli didn’t want to lose their trust, and hoped that once the truth was known she would be forgiven.

At dinner that evening, Milli pushed her Potato and Pumpkin Mash around her plate and made little peaks in it with her fork. Rosie laid down her knife and fork and looked inquiringly at her daughter.

‘Not hungry?’

‘No, it’s great,’ said Milli, shovelling a large forkful into her mouth. The food seemed to stick in her throat and she had to swallow a gulp of Beetroot Cider to wash it down. Crispy Cod Bake with Potato and Pumpkin Mash was normally one of her favourite meals, but tonight she couldn’t enjoy it. The food tasted like glue.

Nonna Luna, who was having dinner with the Klompets, looked at Milli with concern. ‘Whatta da matta?’ she asked. ‘You tella Nonna. Nonna fixa for you.’

‘It’s nothing, Nonna,’ Milli mumbled. ‘I’ve just got a lot on at school.’

‘Well, it’s not going to get any easier,’ Dorkus put in unhelpfully. ‘The older you get the harder it becomes.’

‘As if you’d know,’ Milli replied, a little too spitefully.

‘Milli’s too young to be fretting so much about school work and grades,’ said Mr Klompet. ‘She still needs to have fun. Never mind about studies—there’re years ahead to think of all that.’

‘Milli does nothing but have fun!’ protested Rosie. ‘She’s in first year of senior school now and it’s time to knuckle down. As Miss Linear never fails to observe, the study habits formed this year are the ones that will stand you in good stead in years to come. Milli has the potential to pursue whatever career she chooses if she applies herself now.’

‘She’s thirteen, darling heart,’ said Mr Klompet, winking at his daughter.

‘My point exactly,’ said Milli’s mother. ‘Very soon she’ll be an adult. ‘It’s time she assumed some responsibility.’

‘What would you know about responsibility?’ Milli snapped. ‘All of you are useless! This is the only town in the world that could let a hundred children be kidnapped all at once.’

‘Stoppa!’ Nonna Luna cut in. ‘Milli, no speaka like dat to your mama.’

Rosie looked hurt but Milli couldn’t bring herself to apologise. Why couldn’t the adults of this town do some of the hard work for once? Why was it always up to the children to save the day? Still, Milli knew in her heart how unfair her criticisms were. After all, it had been her own mother who had expressed caution about the circus until she’d been worn down by the children’s persistence.

The meal continued in uncomfortable silence. Milli couldn’t even bring herself to be civil to Nonna Luna, whose company she usually delighted in. Nonna looked very downcast when Milli declined a slice of her homemade
tiramisu,
but Milli was too distracted to notice. She went to bed early and, despite the warmth of several patterned quilts, couldn’t warm up. The cold filtered like unseen fingers under the door and around the windows where the putty had come
loose. Milli found herself lying awake, gazing at the shapes the light from a full moon cast on her ceiling. Her body was tired but her mind simply wouldn’t switch off.

The glow of her star-shaped night-light (a present for her third birthday) didn’t provide its usual comfort. Milli hadn’t slept with the night-light on for some time, but had started using it again since meeting the toys. Images of Hack Ward, kept at bay during the day, always surfaced at this time. Not that the night-light was much help. If it was the dark she was trying to avoid, it’d be fine, but it was her own imagination that was the problem. Right now Milli was imagining the wardrobe door being pushed open by the creature that lurked inside, as well as faces appearing at the window. She gave up and stuck her head under the pillow to escape the show.

When Milli finally did doze off, she felt as if she’d been asleep no more than five minutes before a sound woke her. At first she thought it was the remnant of a dream and ignored it, but it continued. If she wasn’t mistaken there was something tapping at the window. The tapping stopped and Milli turned over; then it resumed
—
tap, tap, tap
against the glass. Milli sat bolt upright and stared at the window. There was no one there, only her own image reflected back at her. She remembered what Lucy Carver from school had told her about witches and other dark creatures being attracted by the glow of night-lights and shivered. It was then she heard the voice.

‘Let me in,’ it begged. ‘It’s freezing out here!’

Milli scrambled out of bed and pressed her nose against the glass. There outside, falling snow already forming a white mantle on his shoulders, was Loyal the rocking horse. She flung the window open and helped him inside. He was shivering from cold so she threw a rug over him, and rubbed his caramel head while she waited for his teeth to stop chattering.

‘How did you get here?’ she asked him.

‘On my rockers, of course. But I took a few wrong turns. Your little town may be charming but it is very badly signposted!’

‘But why are you here? Has something happened?’

‘I am afraid I do have bad news,’ Loyal puffed. ‘Theo sent me as soon as he found out.’

‘Found out what?’

Loyal started to answer but broke off suddenly, his ears pricking up. ‘Shhh! Someone’s coming!’

Sure enough, within seconds the handle of the bedroom door turned and Rosie poked her head into Milli’s room. She had gone to bed a little rattled by her daughter’s mood at dinner and wanted to check on her. Loyal had just enough time to swing himself into a corner and stand stock-still, which was hard as he had a sudden urge to sneeze.