Felix and the Red Rats (5 page)

‘Fun police?’ I asked.

‘That’s what I call them,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘You know, the people who don’t like children climbing trees or racing downhill on bikes or swimming outside the flags—’

‘Steady on, Felix,’ said Dad. ‘There’re plenty of good reasons for those restrictions, you know. Do you know how many children are drowned in this country each year?’

‘Oh, I know,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘I do know. But, balance, John. Balance. If you clip children’s wings, they’ll never be able to fly.’

‘Hmmph,’ said Dad, unconvinced. ‘Nor will they fly if they break their skulls falling out of trees.’

‘Metaphor, John, metaphor,’ said Uncle Felix forking a baby potato into his mouth.

‘Uncle Felix,’ I said, interrupting, ‘you talked about pine forests. Did you put any of those into the Axillaris books?’

Uncle Felix turned to me. ‘Oh, yes,’ he said, ‘I put all sorts of places in these hereabouts in the books. Why wouldn’t I have? It’s what I remember.’

‘So, the pine forest that Bella and Felix—?’

‘Oh, yes, that was very real.’

‘And the concrete shed?’

Uncle Felix gave me a shrewd look, and then said, ‘Oh, yes, that too.’

‘Would it still be there?’

‘Almost certainly,’ he said. ‘It was a public utility and made of concrete. I imagine the need for it still pertains.’

Mum said, ‘I was saying to David that, if you have time while you’re here, you might like to go for a walk together and show him some of your old haunts?’

‘Of course, I could,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘It might be very interesting for us both.’

‘Great,’ I said.

And I meant it. Uncle Felix’s books were pretty real to me, even if they were quite off-the-wall in places, but to actually go with him to the places he’d written about would make them even more meaningful.

Uncle Felix put down his knife and said, ‘So, Nancy, you and David have been talking about me have you?’

Mum looked a little flustered. ‘Not really. We were talking
about
Into
Axillaris
— you know, the one David’s reading right now — and I mentioned that some of the places—’

‘Nothing I should be worried about then?’

Mum laughed. ‘Uncle Felix, have you ever done anything you should be worried about?’

‘Of course I have. Haven’t we all?’

‘I did mention that you used to do conjuring tricks …’

‘So I did.’

Martha looked up with interest. ‘Tricks? Can you still do them?’

‘I shouldn’t think so. It was a long time ago so any tricks of mine would be all rusted up now.’

Martha looked disappointed. ‘Could you try?’

‘Oh, I suppose I could try,’ said Uncle Felix reluctantly. ‘John, do you think you could oblige me with a fifty-cent coin?’

‘Sure,’ said Dad. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of change. He sorted through the coins and then passed Uncle Felix a fifty-cent piece.

While we looked on curiously, Uncle Felix, with a small flourish, placed the coin deliberately in the centre of a clear space on the table. Then he looked around at us mischievously.

‘Now you see it,’ he said, passing one hand lightly over the coin.

‘Now you don’t!’ he exclaimed.

The coin had utterly vanished.

‘It’s in your hand!’ said Martha.

Uncle Felix turned his right hand palm-up. It was completely empty.

‘The other one!’ said Martha.

Uncle Felix closed his right hand and then turned his left hand palm-up. It, too, was completely empty.

‘Both together!’ demanded Martha.

Uncle Felix sighed resignedly, and then slowly opened both hands simultaneously. Both were empty.

Martha stared at him, impressed. ‘Where’s it gone, then?’ she asked.

‘Don’t you know?’

Martha shook her head.

‘Well, I think it’s over here …’

Uncle Felix stood up and moved round to the other side of the table where Martha was sitting. ‘Lean forward,’ he said. Obediently, Martha leant forward. Martha had long brown hair arranged in a thick pony tail. Uncle Felix felt in the hair just before it was gathered into a rubber band and withdrew something shiny.

It was the fifty-cent coin.

‘Martha,’ he said reprovingly, ‘you had it all the time, and there you were accusing me of hiding it in my hand!’

We all laughed and clapped, and Martha for once looked at Uncle Felix with a lot more respect. ‘How on earth did you do that?’ she asked.

Uncle Felix returned to his seat. ‘Oh, Martha,’ he said, ‘if I told you that you wouldn’t think me clever anymore, and I rather like your thinking me clever, so — if you
don’t mind — I’ll have to leave it a mystery.’

‘Magic!’ said Dad. ‘I love it!’

I glanced at Uncle Felix. There was the word mystery again; this time, out of his own mouth. Mystery.
Mysterious.
And what did he mean when he’d told Mum that he’d done things he ought to have been worried about? Was he just talking about things in general, or was there something particular? It made me think of the rats again.

I looked across the table at Martha. She was looking thoughtful, too. Was she thinking similar thoughts? She’d been utterly scornful when Gray had accused Uncle Felix of transforming Simon and Garfunkel. Had Uncle Felix’s little demonstration of his conjuring skills caused her to re-think things a little? And if they had, would she report her changed feelings to Gray?

My heart sank. I remembered Mum saying she’d rather Gray didn’t know about Uncle Felix’s magic. Was the cat out of the bag now?

Too many questions …

‘Ice-cream, anyone?’ asked Mum.

I held up my plate. All at once, I needed ice-cream.

I had to do the dishes with Martha. It was really Gray’s night, but he wasn’t there, of course. It was probably the reason he’d skipped out with his mates anyway.

‘Just get Gray to do them for you tomorrow,’ Mum suggested cheerfully.

Fat chance.

Just get Gray to give you his skateboard.

Just get Gray to make you his Facebook friend.

Just get Gray to shout you a year’s supply of KFC.

Just get Gray to do the dishes for you tomorrow.

Yeah, right.

Martha was okay. She let me wash the pots, which I prefer, and she stacked the dishwasher, so there wasn’t that much for me to do.

‘Did
you
see what he did?’ she asked.

‘Who?’

‘Uncle Felix. You know, with the coin?’

I shook my head. ‘Whatever he did, it was pretty fast. I didn’t see it.’

‘
How
did he do it?’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s all, what’s it called? Sly …’

‘Sleight of hand. But we were all so close to him.’

‘I know.’ I grinned. ‘Dad’s right. It was magic.’

‘Mmm …’

I guessed what Martha was thinking, but I didn’t want to go there really.

‘Did you feel it?’ I asked instead.

‘What?’

‘The coin. Did you feel it in your hair?’

She frowned. ‘Not really, but my hair’s so thick up there I doubt I would’ve felt it anyway.’

‘It was probably in his hand all along.’

‘I guess. But we all saw his hands. They were empty.’

‘So,’ I said, ‘magic!’

I pulled the plug out and waited as the water gurgled away.

‘Anyway,’ I said. ‘Do you still reckon he’s a fake? You had the knife into him yesterday before he arrived.’

Martha shrugged. ‘Dunno. He sort of grows on you, I guess. But fake? I suppose it depends on what you believe about that silly coin trick.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that, you know, magic is magic, but conjuring is fake.’

I thought about that. She was right, I guess, but if conjuring was fake, then conjuring with words was fake too. And that meant that the books were fake and Axillaris was fake. But that was obvious.

‘So?’ I said. ‘Conjuring might be
fake
, but it can be
fun
, too.’

Martha actually laughed. ‘I reckon,’ she said. ‘It was sort of fun tonight.’

‘Droopy bow tie and all?’

‘I’m working on the bow tie,’ she said.

I looked about the sink and I couldn’t see anything much left for me to do.

‘Cheers,’ I said. ‘I’ve got a date with Axillaris right now, so if you don’t mind …’

‘Ciao,’ said Martha. ‘Thanks, Davey. I’ll do the rest.’

Before they’d walked more than a few metres down the cobbled street, however, there was a loud
beep-beep
-beep like a truck backing. It was apparently some sort of pager or phone, for the little creature pulled at a lanyard that was hanging around his neck and then studied a small and flat shiny object for some moments. He looked up and stared grumpily at Bella and Felix.

‘More interlopers in the Way Station!’ he scowled. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s this blasted gang of yours!’

‘It’s not
our
gang, for goodness sake,’ protested Bella. ‘We told you: they’re chasing us!’

The little creature ignored her and strode back up
the pathway towards the doors which had slid shut shortly after they’d stepped onto the path. He pointed the flat object at the doors and pressed a button. Obediently, the doors swung open, and there, blinking in the light and looking utterly disoriented, were Myrtle Heberson and Moonface Morgan. Myrtle was clutching Bella’s red-covered diary. Zombie-like, they stepped out of the Way Station and into the light.

Seeing her diary moved Bella to utter annoyance. She rushed up the path, past the little creature, and snatched the diary from the still-bewildered Myrtle’s grip.

‘Give it back!’ she cried. ‘You’ve no right to it!’

Myrtle hardly seemed to notice the snatch-
and-grab
. She stared at Bella helplessly. ‘Where are we?’ she whispered. ‘What’s happened?’

‘This is crazy,’ muttered Moonface. ‘I’m outa here!’ he turned and made as if to step back into the Way Station, only to find that the doors had automatically slid shut once more.

He turned back to the others. ‘What’s going on?’ he demanded, frightened. ‘What is this place?’

‘We’ve no idea,’ snapped Bella. ‘We’ve only just found ourselves here as well!’

‘Why …?’ asked Myrtle. Her lower lip was beginning to tremble.

Bella held up her diary. ‘This is why,’ she said angrily. ‘If you idiots hadn’t thought it a great idea to pinch my
private diary then none of this would have happened!’

‘It wasn’t me!’ muttered Moonface. ‘I had nothing to do with your stupid diary.’

Suddenly, as if for the first time, Myrtle caught sight of the little creature with his sharp dagger in one hand and the shiny remote in the other. He was standing a little further down the path, scowling. Despite his size, he looked so menacing, so hostile, that Myrtle’s teetering on the verge of crying fell right over into a full-blown wail of despair, followed by racking sobs and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Bella’s irritation with the girl turned instantly to compassion and she moved up to her and wrapped her in her arms.

‘It’s all right, Myrtle,’ she soothed. ‘We’ll find a way out of this. We got into it so there must be a way out of it.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that, humans,’ said the little creature in his nasty, reedy voice. ‘Nothing is that simple!’

His words and the way he said them sent Myrtle off again, shoulders heaving, tears and now her nose streaming. The little man grinned fiendishly at her, clearly relishing her distress.

Felix felt a wave of rage rush over him. He glanced at Moonface. Felix was bigger than the little creature, and Moonface was bigger than Felix. Together they might charge at him, somehow disarm him, and grab the shiny
remote, and get back into the Way Station. Somehow that could let them find a way back into the pine forest and back home to normality, whatever that was. These thoughts tumbling wildly in his head, he exchanged another glance with Moonface. Perhaps he had been thinking the same thing? Moonface nodded almost imperceptibly at Felix and then, as one and with an almighty
Whoop!
from Moonface, they ran down the path towards the little creature.

They nearly had him. Nearly. Unfortunately, they hadn’t factored in the speed of the creature’s reactions. As he sensed their coming, his scowl changed to a look of alarm, and he leapt to one side like a grasshopper, at the same time putting the remote to his mouth. Immediately, there was a piercing whistle. Before Felix and Moonface could regain their momentum and spin about for a second attempt, the double doors to the Cable-car Station slid apart and more than a dozen little creatures came howling angrily towards them.

Moonface and Felix backed up and away, but there was nowhere to go. Within seconds the group was upon them.

They’re clones!
thought Felix, thoroughly alarmed. They certainly looked like clones of the little creature, or twins, or whatever-tuplet a dozen or so identical siblings might be called. They were all dressed in the same brown leather shirts, yellow tunics and leggings, and all with dark glasses.
It must be some sort of uniform
,
Felix thought. He was again reminded how like a wasp the outfit made them look. No, he corrected himself, not a wasp … a swarm of wasps, a swarm of angry wasps. For not only were they dressed identically, the creatures all wore the same scowling, bad-tempered expression. Several carried daggers, one or two held dangerous-looking pikes, and another couple were holding armloads of rope. With a sinking heart, Felix guessed what the rope would be for.

Any further resistance was futile, he knew. The others realised it as well. Nervously they suffered themselves to be trussed up and then tied together so that their original captor, who seemed to be the one in charge, could lead them, bound, towards the doors to the cable-car.

In any other circumstances, the cable-car might have been described as charming. It was red and shiny, with mullioned windows, as it sat on its level waiting for passengers. The red leather seats inside were buttoned and looked comfortable, but as the four of them were tied together like a bunch of garlic, they were forced to stand in the aisle and the seats were taken by their captor and two or three of the little clones who were apparently coming along for the ride, probably as extra security.

And then they were off.

‘Where are they taking us?’ whispered Myrtle. She had stopped her heart-rending sobs, but her face was tear-stained and she was trying unsuccessfully to wipe
her running nose with the back of her sleeve. This was not easy as she was yoked by the rope to Moonface who, perhaps wary of getting his own sleeve wet, was resisting her efforts.

The cable-car had by now edged towards the slope with a rocking motion and was beginning to nose downwards. As they were standing, their view was somewhat limited, but they could ascertain already that the line was precipitous and seemed to head down at a very sharp angle for an awfully long way.

‘I’ve no idea where they’re taking us,’ muttered Moonface in response to Myrtle’s question. ‘I have no idea who they are. How could I, birdbrain?’

‘We’re going to the palace,’ said Felix.

‘The palace?’ asked Moonface.

‘Something about a regent,’ said Bella.

‘What’s a regent?’ asked Myrtle.

‘How would I know, stupid?’ said Moonface. ‘Probably some kind of bug-eyed monster!’

All this achieved was a loud sniff and a choking sob from Myrtle.

‘Don’t be mean, Moony,’ said Bella. ‘Can’t you see how upset she is already?’

‘Stuff her,’ said Moonface angrily. ‘Stuff all of you. Stuff everything!’

Felix was about to remonstrate with him, but realised that Moonface was actually frightened. Possibly, he was even more frightened than Myrtle.

‘It’s okay, Moony,’ he said. ‘We’re in this together, so we ought to try and get out of this together. You know?’

Moonface looked over his shoulder at Felix and seemed to be about to say something even angrier, but apparently thought better of it, and gave him a tight little grin instead and held up a clenched fist.

The cable-car ride was long. At times it cut through narrow defiles so that they could only see rocky or clay banks pressed almost up against the windows; at other times they could see the slopes of the hills around them, rock-dotted and shrub-studded, the shrubs sculpted by the wind into strange flattened and hunched shapes. On two or three occasions the car passed through dark forests, the tall tree-trunks flaky with orange bark, and every so often the car would level out at a station. On no occasion, though, did any other passenger get on, nor did any other car pass them on an upward journey, although there were several stages where the line doubled to allow such a possibility.

They didn’t talk much. A whispered comment here and there, but mostly each was locked in his or her own apprehensions. Finally, and without much prior indication, the cable-car slowed and then levelled at yet another station.

But this time it stopped with a weary screech of
brakes and a hiss of pneumatics. The children looked at each other, wondering.

Then with a slight clatter the doors shivered open.

Their captor led the way as they climbed out of the car. The rope was quite long, and he was able to stand on the platform pulling them out as if drawing on a fishing line with four large fish attached. The long downhill ride had not improved his temper. If anything it had made it worse.

‘No funny business,’ he barked, once they were assembled in a bedraggled line. ‘There’s a considerable reward for the capture of a rebel, and I’ve managed to snaffle four at once. That’s wealth for me, see! Specie and spondulicks, see. So don’t dare put a penny of that at risk or I don’t know what.’

‘We’re not rebels,’ said Bella firmly. ‘We’ve told you that.’

‘So you’re stiff out of luck,’ said Moonface.

‘Quiet!’ roared the little creature. ‘You’ll do what I tell you, and be what I tell you!’

Felix felt it wise not to say anything. All the same, if this little tyrant was typical of the rulers in this place, he all at once felt that being a rebel wouldn’t be a bad idea. He looked around the Cable-car Station, and apart from the four of them and the little bully with the rope it appeared deserted. The small security detachment and the driver, if there was one, had remained in the cable-car. The ticket office was deserted. He remembered
that they hadn’t been passed by any up-going cable-car and that all of the other stations had seemed deserted as well.

Who uses this railway anyway?
he asked himself, and, of course, had no answer.

He felt a tug on his wrist and realised that they were being led Indian-file out of the station. Moonface was immediately attached to the little creature, then Myrtle, then Bella, while he brought up the rear.

Beyond the station, they found themselves on narrow cobblestone streets once more, but this time the streets were lined by brownstone or brick buildings. They were mainly three-storeyed with jutting out upper-storeys and this tended to accentuate the narrowness of the streets and make them dark and shadowy. Some of the buildings had pebble-glass windows facing the street, and Felix guessed these might be shops or businesses of some sort, but there was very little signage, and once again hardly any sign of people. Every so often they would see a hunched, bunched figure scurrying here or there as if unwilling to let the world note its presence. They were either short and probably one of the clones, or taller and probably not. Whatever, whoever, they were hidden by cloaks and hooded jackets.

What is this?
wondered Felix.

The little creature thought he was probably hurrying them along but, as his legs were so much shorter, the pace was reasonably comfortable. Before long they
broke free of the dark maze of streets and onto a large public square ringed by a wider road. It was a relief to have watery sunshine again after the claustrophobic gloom of the streets. There were spreading trees here, and a grassed centre-square criss-crossed like a Union Jack with cobbled paths. In the very centre was an equestrian statue. At least, it looked like an equestrian statue in that there was creature that looked not unlike a horse, with its front legs raised in a frozen prance, and riding it was a creature that looked not at all like their little captor, but instead tall and willowy and human-like.

Surrounding the square were what looked to be public buildings, set further back and with fluted pillars and broad sets of steps leading up to imposing doorways. It would have looked all very stately and beautiful except that the whole area was litter-strewn and the buildings were disfigured with ugly graffiti.

Their captor indicated the grandest of the buildings with his thumb.

‘That’s where we’re going,’ he grunted.

‘What is it?’ asked Bella.

‘The palace,’ snarled their captor, as if no further explanation were necessary.

They were led diagonally across the park. This meant they passed by the central statue. It was the green of weathered bronze and as Felix drew closer to it he
realised that the mounted steed was not a horse at all but something much stockier. Coming closer still, he saw that the creature was in fact a huge pig; moreover, a huge pig with bronze wings raised in flight like Pegasus, the flying horse. He couldn’t help giggling to himself.
Pigasus?

He was able to tug at the rope to draw Bella’s attention to the oddness of it all.