by Emily Rodda
“Yeah?” Ruby looked thoughtful. “Look,” she said, after a moment. “I don’t want to worry you for nothing. It might be some other kid. But I’ve been home for a cuppa and on the way back I passed the Channel 8 building and I did see a boy dressed like that. Near the door.”
“You did?” Patrick and Claire stared at each other, hope rising in a wave and flowing between them.
“Yeah,” said Ruby. “Thing is he wasn’t alone.” She looked gravely at Max. “Loony Doon was with him,” she said. “Eleanor Doon. She was trying to get him inside, I reckon.”
“What?” Patrick and Max exclaimed in horror. Claire didn’t understand what was going on, but she saw the fear on their faces, and pressed her hand to her mouth.
“We’ll have to go. Now!” said Max. “If she gets to the Agents with him we’ve had it.”
“What about the bird, then?” demanded the old woman.
Max thought hard for a second. “If you get the bird in the next five minutes, Ruby, bring it to Channel 8. Someone’ll be waiting at the door.” He took a step away, then paused and turned back. “And Ruby,” he said carefully, “if you haven’t found the bird in five minutes, I want you to do something else for me. I want you to forget the bird, and us, and get away from here as fast as you can. And take as many of your mates with you as will go. It’s going to get rough.”
Her faded eyes summed him up. She glanced down at the Barrier again and pursed her lips. “Bad as that, is it?” she said. “After all these years. The signs were all there, but I couldn’t believe it.” Her shoulders sagged. Then she shrugged them back and looked up at Max. “Thanks for the warning, sonny,” she said jauntily. “I’ll tell the others. But I reckon I’ll hang around. If the Barrier goes, we’re all done for, in the long run. So I may as well see the fireworks. Go with a bang, as they say.”
Patrick put out his hand to her but she waved him away. “Get along with all of you!” she said roughly. “Get about your business, and I’ll get about mine! See you in the spring!” She turned and made off, bending determinedly into the wind.
18
Countdown
“Now,” puffed Max as they jogged up the road that led to the TV studio. “You kids listen to me. Especially you, Patrick. You’ve both been great. But now it’s time for you to leave things to us. You’ve done all you can. If we’re quick we can still get the two of you back home before twelve o’clock. It’ll be a near thing, but we can just do it.”
“The three of us, you mean,” said Patrick. “You’ve forgotten about Danny.”
Max didn’t answer. The other two looked quickly at him. He ran on, clumsily, like someone not used to running, staring straight ahead.
“We’re not going without Danny, you know,” warned Claire.
Max still didn’t look around. “You might have to,” he muttered.
Claire and Patrick both stopped dead. Max faltered, then he also stopped. The children shook their heads.
“No way,” Patrick said firmly. “No way, Max.”
“Don’t even think about it,” added Claire.
Max regarded them helplessly.
“Come on.” Patrick started to run again. “We’re nearly there. Look out for Danny.” The blood was starting to pound in his head. He’ll be there, he thought. He’ll be there. He must be there. Waiting by the door, with or without Eleanor Doon. We can’t go without him. We can’t. He concentrated on that. He tried not to think about the lost bird, the regulator for the Chestnut Tree Village clock, and the terrible disaster that was going to befall them all if it wasn’t returned to its rightful place. There was no point in thinking about that. No point. Max would have to handle that. Yet Ruby’s words kept coming back to him. If the Barrier goes, we’re all done for, in the long run. He was the Finder. They had relied on him. And he’d failed them.
The door to the TV studio was in sight. And, as before, a crowd of Barrier-combers surrounded it. But the crowd was bigger now. And angrier. And hovering on its fringes, right in front of them, holding tightly to a tall, thin woman’s hand was –
“Danny!” Claire’s shriek of joy filled Patrick’s ears. He saw his sister spring forward, run faster than he’d ever seen her run. He saw Danny pull away from Eleanor Doon and race to meet her, leaping into her arms.
“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” Patrick found he was whispering the words over and over again. And then he could hear them being said aloud. By Claire. Claire was sobbing them to Eleanor Doon, looking at her over Danny’s fair head, tears running down her cheeks. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Eleanor Doon didn’t answer. Different expressions were passing over her face as she watched Danny’s clutching arms and Claire’s tears.
Max was watching her nervously. “Get going!” he ordered Claire and Patrick. “We’ve got to get to the computer room.”
“They won’t let you through. I’ve been trying,” said Eleanor Doon, in her curiously toneless voice. She smiled thinly.
“We’ll see about that,” said Max. “Patrick, Claire, stay close together. Hold on to Danny.” He moved to the edge of the crowd. “Let us through, please,” he bawled, trying to push a path through the people. “We’re on official business. Look!” He pointed to Claire, bedraggled and crying but still in her red jacket. “We’ve got a Guard with us.”
“Big deal!” sneered a curly-haired woman in front of him. She linked arms with the people on either side of her, blocking Max’s way. “No one in or out. That’s flat. Channel 8’s the cause of our troubles. We’re giving them some. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
“You’ll be sorry for this,” warned Max, his eyes shifting from one face to another. “There are Agents inside this building!”
“Not any more, matey. Or only one or two. The rest of them took off down to the Barrier,” said the man on the curly-haired woman’s left. “They’re in a flat spin. They’ve finally decided we were right about Finders Keepers. No more talk about the Barrier fixing itself up now. It’s going bye-byes.” He jerked his thumb back at the TV building. “And this place here’s to blame.”
“Give up. They won’t let you through,” said Eleanor Doon in Max’s ear.
He spun round to face her, his face beaded with sweat. “I’ve got to get these kids in! I’ve got to get them home to their parents! Now. Or it’ll be too late. Whatever happens, they should be together.” He gripped her arm. Max, the cool, calm one who knew all the answers, was pleading now. With the most unlikely person. “Please!” he begged Eleanor Doon. “Think of something! Help me!”
She stared at him in amazement. For the second time today someone was asking her for help. Her. The woman they called Loony Doon. The woman who’d forgotten about people. Who’d given them up, because caring and loving hurt too much. Didn’t he know that asking her for help was pointless and ridiculous? She stared at Patrick, and at Claire, and at Danny, who turned his tear-stained face towards her just at that moment. And Danny smiled at her, his thumb in his mouth.
For a second their eyes locked.
Then Eleanor Doon clutched at her chest as if, almost as if, something inside her had cracked. And she straightened her shoulders, raised herself to her full height, held up her arms. And she shouted. “Look!” she yelled, her voice breaking with the effort. “Look here!” She waited for a moment while the crowd turned to stare, pointing and tittering at her.
And then, as if it was happening in slow motion, Patrick saw her begin to pull at the rings on her fingers. Saw her drag them off in twos and threes and fours. Saw her fling them high, in handfuls, so they scattered behind her in the dust. Dozens of them, glittering and bright. Saw the Barrier-combers scatter, shrieking, to pounce on them, leaving a clear, open path to the door. Heard Eleanor Doon’s voice. “Go!” She was shouting to him, to them. “Go home!”
And then the door was opening, and Boopie and Estelle were calling, and he was running, with Claire and Danny and Max beside him. And they were tumbling inside. And the do
or was slamming behind them.
“Did you see that? Did you see what she did?” They were running again, down a deserted corridor. At the end two other corridors led off left and right. They were nearly at the computer room. But Patrick couldn’t stop talking. “Boopie, Estelle, did you see …?”
“I couldn’t believe it,” answered Boopie. “No one would have believed it.”
“Keep it down, you two,” grunted Max. He slowed to a walk and the others did the same. They crept together, not speaking, to the end of the corridor. Max peered around the corner to the right, then drew back quickly. “There’s still an Agent on the door,” he muttered. “Rats!”
“Rats?” Danny piped up with interest.
“Sshh, Danny.” Claire let go of his hand and hurriedly smoothed back her hair, tucking it behind her ears and under her jacket collar. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll fix this.” She lifted her chin and strolled around the corner, raising her hand to the black-uniformed figure by the computer-room door.
They saw her speaking to him and pointing down the corridor, away from them. He nodded, glanced at his watch, and marched off briskly. Claire took his place, her back to the door, staring straight ahead. After a moment she turned her head to make sure the coast was clear, then looked back to their corner and beckoned. They ran to join her.
“I told him I was sent to relieve him,” she said smugly. “He’s gone to have a cup of tea.”
Estelle clapped her on the back. “Good on you, Claire!”
“In!” said Max.
They crowded into the computer room. Danny and Claire looked around, wide-eyed. “Wow,” breathed Danny respectfully.
“Stand there and hold still,” ordered Max. “We’ll have to work fast.” He raced to the computer. “The fix is holding,” he said, his eyes darting over the screen. “Now …” His hand moved forward.
“Max, Max, stop!” called Patrick. “Stop! Listen! We haven’t got the bird. We can’t fix the clock. What are we going to do?”
Danny tugged at Claire’s sleeve. “Do you want to see what I found, Claire?”
Claire squeezed his hand. “Later, Danny,” she said softly. “When we’re home.” She exchanged worried glances with Estelle. “Patrick –” she began. But Max was talking again.
“I told you, Patrick, there’s no more time. I’ve got to send you back before the twelve o’clock strike, or I mightn’t ever be able to get you back.”
“But if the clock isn’t fixed our side’s in as much trouble as yours, Max,” cried Patrick. “Send Danny and Claire back. I’ll wait here for Ruby. She’ll have found the bird by now. For sure. Then …”
“No!” barked Max. “No! It’s too late!”
“I’ve got a bird, you know, Claire,” said Danny brightly.
“Have you, Danny? That’s nice.” Claire glanced again at Estelle. Then she bent down and picked the little boy up. “Hold tight, now,” she said. She put her other arm around Patrick and held him close. She was trembling with anxiety. She looked straight at Max, and nodded. His hand moved forward again.
But Danny was wriggling, fumbling in his pocket, dragging out something. “See, Claire?” he insisted, holding up a blue-and-yellow object that blurred in front of her eyes. “I lost my golf ball, but this is nice. It feels the same in my pocket. Round and heavy, see?”
“Danny!” Patrick and Claire’s shout echoed in the tiny room. Boopie, Estelle and Max gasped. Danny looked from face to astonished face, and beamed. He’d never ever had such a satisfying reaction to one of his finds before.
“It’s my prize. I found it,” he repeated happily. “At Finders Keepers.”
“He had it all along!” shrieked Boopie. “I don’t believe it!”
Max was tearing at his hair in excitement. “Patrick!” he yelled. “You’ve just got time. You can do it, boy! Ready?”
“Wait, Max! The plans!” shouted Estelle. “Give Patrick the clock plans, in case …”
“Aagh!” Max bounded across the room, tearing the bulky paper from his pocket. He thrust it at Patrick. “I’m going nuts!” he roared. Then he slapped his forehead. “And quickly, someone!” He began darting around the room, shovelling papers to the floor, pulling out drawers and opening cupboard doors. “He needs something to stick the bird to its socket. Sticky tape or something. Anything! Oh, quickly!”
“Chewing gum!” Boopie pulled out her packet and ran over to Patrick with it. She unwrapped two pieces and popped them into his mouth. He started chewing madly.
“Chewing gum! Yes! Brilliant!” yelled Max, as though he’d never said a word against the stuff in his life. “Now, go, kids, go!”
“Hold tight!” shouted Boopie and Estelle together.
The children shut their eyes and clutched each other as if their lives depended on it. Patrick heard Danny gasp, felt Claire shudder. He knew this was it. He knew everything now depended on him. He knew that on the other side he would have to move faster than he’d ever moved in his life. And then his head began to spin, and he knew nothing at all.
19
Zero Hour
Patrick opened his eyes. The bright lights were dazzling. His chest was bursting. He breathed out in a shuddering gasp and became aware of Danny and Claire panting beside him. He staggered slowly to his feet. He was in the department store, beside the TV set. He’d come back across the Barrier. An urgent feeling was stabbing through his vague confusion. There was something he had to do. Something important. But what? What did he have to do? He looked at his hand. He was holding a thick paper. The plans of the clock. He blinked. His head cleared. He remembered!
“Quick!” He grabbed Danny’s hand. “Claire, we’ve got to get to the clock! Danny, we have to put the bird back on the clock. It’s not your prize. It belongs on the clock. I’ll give you your golf ball in a minute, to make up for it, OK?” He took the bird from Danny’s chubby paw and began dragging his brother and sister along with him up the aisle towards the door.
“Hey, you kids!” The shop assistant who’d ticked Patrick off before met them at the end of the aisle. “Didn’t I tell you …?”
“Sorry!” gabbled Patrick, darting past him. “No time!”
They raced towards the clock. There was a strange humming noise in Patrick’s ears. He shook his head, but the humming went on. Then he realised that the noise wasn’t in his head at all. It was coming from the clock. It filled the air: an ominous, rising sound like a million angry bees. The white fence was surrounded by people, murmuring and confused. All of them were staring, fascinated, at the clock’s minute hand. It was trembling before the hour. The humming noise grew louder. The ground began to shudder, very slightly. A few people screamed.
Patrick and Claire pushed through the crowd to the fence, pulling Danny between them, ignoring grunts of protest and angry looks. The trembling in the ground grew stronger. The clock’s ticking was like a drum – fast, hard and frightening. The humming noise rose to an almost unbearable pitch. People covered their ears and stepped back, treading on each other’s toes. “Earthquake!” a man shouted.
Patrick looked up. He didn’t need Anna Varga’s plans. He knew where the missing bird should go. But its hole was high up in the painted branches of the chestnut tree. Higher than he’d remembered.
“Neither of us can reach. You’ll have to lift me!” he yelled to Claire.
They clambered over the fence, hauling Danny after them. No one called after them or tried to stop them. The clock ticked faster. The ground shook. A small crack began to run up the centre of the tree.
“I’m scared, Claire!” Danny cried. “It’s like Finders Keepers here. It’s all shaking. And the clock’s too loud.” He sank to the ground and covered his ears.
Claire bent down at the base of the tree and Patrick climbed up on her shoulders. She staggered to her feet and he took the chewing gum from his mouth and reached up to the place where the missing bird usually popped out of its hole to sing. He still couldn’t reach. He raised himself to hi
s knees, feeling Claire’s shoulders wobbling underneath him. He stretched his arms as high as they would go, straining every muscle, reaching higher and higher till the tips of his fingers just reached the opening. He pressed his head against the surface of the tree and felt for the metal cup in which the bird sat.
The humming noise filled his head, the ticking of the clock seemed to beat at him, taking his breath away. His fingers were trembling and slippery with sweat. A whirring noise began, deep in the clock’s heart. He knew what that meant. It was about to strike. The huge minute hand began to move above him.
He could feel the cup now. He stuck the gum into it and began to slide the little bird into position. Nearly … nearly …
CLANG! The clock struck, with a jarring, hideous clash of sound. The cup shot out from under Patrick’s fingers. He swayed on Claire’s shoulders, grabbing at the flat surface of the tree, struggling frantically to keep upright. The bird flew from his grasp and fell. Fell. And hit the tiles. And shattered into a hundred pieces.
Claire and Danny’s screams echoed in Patrick’s ears. The little cup, still empty, shot back into its hole. The ground rumbled and with a crash a pane of glass fell from a shop window and smashed. More people screamed, and children began to cry. The blacksmith raised his hammer again.
Patrick hung on the clock, staring down at the powdered fragments, white, blue and yellow, on the tiles below. He couldn’t believe what had happened. He couldn’t take it in. Thoughts and pictures flashed on and off in his head. Everything was lost. Finished. The Barrier, Estelle, Max, Boopie, Ruby, the Barrier-combers, Eleanor Doon, Finders Keepers, Anna Varga, and in the end everyone here – all these people, Claire, his parents, Michael, Danny …
Danny. Danny’s voice, echoing in his mind: Feels the same … round and heavy … in my pocket … feels the …
Patrick’s heart thudded. He plunged his hand deep in his pocket, found what he was looking for, pulled it out …
CLANG! The cup popped out of its hole again and quickly, like lightning, Patrick stuck Danny’s golf ball fast inside it. It fitted perfectly. The clock shuddered. The cup was pulled back into the hole.