Von Gobstopper's Arcade (9 page)

‘Where did you come from?’ he asked.

Seeing that the children hadn’t sufficiently recovered from their surprise to reply, Captain Pluck answered on their behalf.

‘Castaways,’ he whispered, ‘from the
excursion.
’

‘Ah, the excursion,’ Theo said. ‘We’ve been hoping to meet you. It’s Milli and Ernest, isn’t it?’

‘How do you know that?’ asked a baffled Ernest.

‘Let’s just say your reputation has preceded you. We,’ he made a sweeping gesture with his arm—‘are the Resistance.’

‘What’s a resistance?’ Milli asked innocently.

‘You’ll have to forgive my friend,’ Ernest cut in, frowning at Milli. ‘She never pays enough attention in History. I know that a resistance is a secret organisation set up to oppose an enemy occupation.’

Theo smiled. ‘You
do
pay attention, I see.’

‘The question is, whom or what are you resisting?’

Ernest’s little speech may have annoyed
Milli, but Theo broke into a roar of laughter and extended a furry paw to shake Ernest’s hand.

‘Someone with your thinking is going to be immensely useful to us. But tell me, how did you come to be left behind?’

‘We think a doll in one of the displays tried to send Ernest a message,’ Milli replied, anxious not to be completely excluded from the conversation. ‘He saw
help us
written in the snow but we don’t know who wrote it or why.’

The bear nodded. ‘I was afraid it was a long shot, but we had to try everything to get your attention. Thankfully, you have proved as observant as I had hoped.’

‘It
was
intended for us,’ said Ernest, still struggling to get things clear in his head. ‘I knew it!’

‘Of course,’ the bear rumbled. ‘We are in desperate need of friends.’

‘Perhaps you could explain to us what’s going on?’ asked Milli politely. ‘We are, as Ernest would say, a tad confused.’

‘And we don’t have much time,’ Ernest thought it wise to add, ‘before the bus comes back to collect us.’

‘Please sit down,’ said Theo, ‘and I’ll try to be as brief as I can. Afterwards, you can decide whether you wish to be of assistance or not.’

The bear sat down on his stool, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he considered how to make his explanation as succinct as possible.

‘It is not possible to tell you everything right now,’ he began, ‘so I’ll try to focus on the important bits. The three of us have been friends for a long time. We formed part of our maker’s special collection. The first thing I imagine you’re wondering is why we can use speech whilst others can’t?’

The children nodded encouragingly.

‘Well, that part is not so easy to explain. I could say it was due to magic, but that wouldn’t be quite correct, although magic has no doubt played a part in it, just not the magic you are accustomed to. No, it is more the magic of creative endeavour. When Von Gobstopper created us, he imbued each of us with a specific identity and human qualities. As toys are Von Gobstopper’s only companions, he creates them
to resemble humans—not in appearance but in personality.’

‘Does this mean all Von Gobstopper’s toys can speak?’ Milli asked breathlessly.

‘I doubt it, although we think they may have the capacity to learn. We were fortunate enough to form part of Von Gobstopper’s inner circle and our creator certainly has a taste for debate.’ The bear paused and chuckled, clearly enjoying some private reminiscence. ‘Eventually, we learned to answer him when he posed philosophical questions. He was delighted with his achievement, of course. We all became firm friends.’

‘How do you explain the message in the display?’ Milli interrupted.

‘Gwendolyn is special, and far too accomplished to spend her life as a prop in a display,’ Theo muttered in anger. ‘Sadly, she became trapped in a glass enclosure with companions she cannot communicate with. Hopefully, it will not be forever.’

‘We’ve read that Mr Von Gobstopper is now a recluse,’ commented Ernest, keen to keep the discussion from straying.

‘Recluse!’ snorted Captain Pluck. ‘Is that what they call it? Hostage, more like!’

‘Calm down, Pluck,’ said Theo. ‘We’re still trying to determine what happened to him.’ He turned back to the children. ‘We travelled here by coach, a whole party of us, including Von Gobstopper and a number of his staff, for the opening of the arcade. But on the way we were intercepted and Von Gobstopper has not been seen since.’

‘So how come you’re living down here?’ Milli asked.

‘We are not living here,’ the bear corrected her kindly, ‘we are in
hiding.
The worst part is that we don’t know exactly what we are hiding from. The arcade has been taken over. We escaped as soon as we suspected something was wrong—before we could be locked away as part of an exhibit.’

‘What makes you think anything is wrong at all?’ said Ernest. ‘Is it possible that Mr Von Gobstopper has just gone home and put others in charge of running the arcade?’

‘That would be an entirely plausible conclusion if we didn’t know Mr Von Gobstopper better,’ Theo reflected.

‘He would never abandon us!’ Captain Pluck said indignantly.

‘Something is very wrong,’ added Pascal, tearing up again.

Theo gave the children a serious look. ‘We’re hoping you’ll help us determine what that something is.’

They were interrupted by the crunch of wheels on gravel, audible even in the Resistance’s underground headquarters.

‘The bus!’ exclaimed Ernest.

‘Captain Pluck will escort you out,’ Theo announced. ‘We don’t want to cause you any more trouble. Please come and see us again soon if you can.’

‘How do we let you know we’re coming?’

‘There’s no need. We’ll know when you get here. Wait at the opening in the wall and use the password.’

‘But we don’t know the password,’ Milli said.

‘Of course you don’t; how remiss of me. It’s Peppered Pancakes.’

Ernest had already shouldered his pack, keen to return to the driveway and the bus in
the hope that a rapid return might lessen the scolding they were bound to receive from Miss Macaw. Milli, however, the more instinctive of the pair, sensed there was something the toys were holding back.

‘Is there anything else you can tell us?’ she asked. ‘Anything else not quite right?’

‘There is one thing,’ the bear said hesitantly. He stole a glance at the others to ensure he had their approval to proceed. They gave almost imperceptible nods.

‘On three occasions now there has been what we call a “round-up” in the arcade,’ he told them, ‘during which certain toys are taken down to the basement for repairs. Perhaps five or six at a time.’

‘What’s strange about that?’ asked Ernest. ‘Toys must need maintenance.’

Theo fixed him with a grim look.

‘That is true, Ernest, we do. Only in these instances not a single toy taken for maintenance has ever come back.’

W
hen Milli awoke safe and sound in her own bed the next morning, she wondered what was causing the feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach. Then she remembered the events of the day before. Luckily, Miss Macaw had been too relieved that they hadn’t been dismembered by Boi Toi or abducted by stuffed jungle animals to ask many questions. Milli and Ernest had simply invented a story about wandering off to take more detailed notes and losing track of time, and everyone believed them. It sounded just like something the conscientious Ernest would do. Besides, no one could imagine deliberately staying behind
to risk incurring the wrath of the venomous Ms Anomali. At times during the tour, the curator’s expression had suggested that nothing would give her more satisfaction than to see the visitors pickled in a jar.

Milli and Ernest had agreed with Theo not to publicise their meeting and they fended off the queries from the other students, eager to hear what they had got up to. Both children were equally reticent when they returned home. They remained so all through dinner, which surprised their parents who had expected them to be brimming with stories about the arcade.

‘Too much glitz and not much substance,’ was Ernest’s rather dismissive report.

Mr and Mrs Perriclof attributed their first-born’s non-communication to him entering the uncharted waters of adolescence, something they had long been dreading. They had been warned by well-meaning friends that Ernest’s conversation would soon be reduced to a series of incomprehensible grunts. Change of any sort was not well received in the Perriclof household. Mrs Perriclof’s solution (as it was for most of life’s tricky situations) was to increase Ernest’s
Vitamin B intake and rush him off to a yoga class.

Mrs Klompet, on the other hand, simply concluded that as Milli was so quiet she must be over-tired or coming down with something and advised an early night. Only Dorkus realised that her sister was neither ill nor tired. She had noticed Milli chewing compulsively on her lower lip; something she only ever did when she was hatching a devious plan or pondering a matter of the utmost importance.

Saturday turned out to be busy for both Milli and Ernest and they didn’t find an opportunity to meet to discuss the events at the arcade. Ernest was flat out with rehearsals for
Macbeth
despite the paucity of his lines, and Milli had agreed to help her ever-inventive father trial a new pre-mixed Christmas pudding that, instead of the usual ingredients, contained pistachios and pumpkin. On Sunday afternoon it rained steadily and both the Klompets and the Perriclofs insisted their children stay indoors. Milli divided her time between checking the weather and playing a game of Hide and Seek
with Stench as no one was willing to brave the rain to take him for his walk. You had to feel sorry for him, lying with his nose between his paws by the door and looking up hopefully every time someone walked past. The game involved a member of the family (usually Dorkus) covering Stench’s eyes with her hands as she counted to ten. Then Dorkus would remove her hands and give the instruction, ‘Find Milli!’ Stench sprang into action and did a perfunctory lap of whatever room he happened to be in before bounding off to look for Milli. He always found her inside of sixty seconds, either behind the shower curtain, curled inside the blanket box or behind one of the coats hanging from the hall stand.

‘Ten seconds,’ announced Dorkus, checking her watch.

‘Shame there isn’t a
Guinness Book of Records
for animals,’ said Milli as she rewarded the dog with a scratch behind his woolly ears. ‘Or you’d be famous.’

When Monday came and the children sat on the school bus they felt quite disappointed with themselves for having achieved so little. Milli
proposed that they return to the arcade after school that afternoon to find out more and see how the toys were faring, but Ernest wasn’t convinced. He argued that there was little sense in acting rashly; what they really needed was time to think things through. They were supervised carefully at school and no one was at liberty to wander off willy-nilly. Getting caught breaking the rules was a different matter now that they were in senior school. He felt certain that those in authority would be less forgiving now, and any misdemeanours could have damaging consequences. Perhaps even lead to the loss of future positions of responsibility.

On the other hand, Milli reminded Ernest, they had to do
something.
And if they could agree on what that something was, it would be better decided upon sooner rather than later in case things changed suddenly at the arcade and they could no longer gain access to the secret passage.

The second excursion group was milling excitedly around the courtyard when the school bus pulled up. Watching them, Milli suddenly was struck by an idea.

‘I’ve just had a great idea,’ she announced.

‘Really? Did it hurt?’

Milli held Ernest in a headlock until he took back the comment and agreed to listen.

‘Make it quick,’ he said, spotting teachers moving towards the common room for their first of many coffees for the day.

Milli outlined her plan in a low and urgent whisper. ‘We can smuggle ourselves onto the bus and get back to the arcade that way. Then, as soon as we can, we’ll wander off to spend the day with the toys. We won’t even be missed because we’re officially not there. And since today’s group have to wear school uniform we’ll blend in perfectly. Admit it…it’s good.’

‘The plan
is
good,’ Ernest had to concede, ‘apart from a few glitches—such as, how do we get on the bus if we’re not on today’s list?’

‘A detail, my dear Ernesto. It’s Mr Beaker taking this group, remember? He’ll have forgotten he’s even going and someone will have to go and find him. By that time we’ll be on the bus with the others. When he takes the roll, he won’t even realise there are two extras on board.’

‘What if he does a head count?’

‘He won’t. He can’t concentrate for that long.’

‘What about the fact that we won’t be in class all day?’

‘I’ll run up right now, get our names ticked off and say we need time in the library to write up Friday’s outing for the newsletter. Teachers love students showing initiative.’

‘Won’t they expect to see the article?’

‘That should take you all of ten minutes tonight.’

‘Um, no, it’ll take
us
all of ten minutes tonight,’ Ernest amended.

‘OK, but I doubt it’ll take ten minutes if I help,’ said Milli with a grin. ‘So are we going?’

Ernest looked uncertain, and clutched his satchel which Milli was trying to wrestle from him. She planned to deposit it in the shrubbery where hers was already concealed. ‘It seems a rash and poorly thought through plan, as well as involving the telling of several blatant lies which I’m not entirely comfortable with,’ Ernest pointed out. But Milli was already gleefully bounding off to find Miss Macaw.
‘But why let that stop us?’ he concluded to himself.

If there was one thing Milli had observed about teachers it was that they loved to bask in reflected glory. Miss Macaw was no exception and was ‘tickled pink’ by the idea of a piece written by two of her students making it into the newsletter. She waved Milli off, supposedly to the library, her eyes already distant as she imagined the article being read by the entire school community, with the words ‘Macaw Sparrows’ beneath the authors’ names.