Too Many Zeros

by Geoff Palmer

  And then he lost them.

  Someone spotted a plume of dust coming towards them, hanging in the still air. Since School Road (No Exit) ended at a picnic spot a kilometre further on, it was almost certainly heading here.

  Tim tried raising his voice but interest increased when it resolved into a motor scooter, and by the time it swung into the driveway and pulled up outside the office, he’d given up completely.

  The scooter’s rider and passenger dismounted and took off their matching red crash helmets. They were a couple of kids! The girl about Tim’s age, the boy about Coral’s. Mr and Mrs Millais went out to meet them while the entire school surged to the windows. Everyone heard the scooter driver’s first words in the seconds before the bell for morning break sounded. ‘Ah, good morning,’ he said. ‘We are come for the education, please.’

  * * *

  Tim’s notoriety vanished in a surge of curiosity about the newcomers and he found himself standing with Stormin’ Norman and a group of other boys in a respectful semicircle around the scooter after its rider and passenger had been bustled into the principal’s office.

  ‘Cool bike, eh?’ Norman said.

  ‘Yeah.’ Tim wasn’t paying much attention.

  He felt deflated. His presentation had been really going well, and he’d put a lot of work into it. He’d sat up late every night last week — partly in the hope that the mice would return. But they hadn’t. So he’d ended up working on his essay. Now it was over the empty evening hours stretched endlessly ahead.

  The whole mouse business remained a mystery. The calculator, the microwave; what had that been all about? It was horrible to think he might never know.

  It didn’t help that Coral was still mad at him. Why hadn’t he fetched her before he’d given them the calculator? That was all they were coming back for. They weren’t on a social visit. Was he a complete idiot?

  He supposed he was. All he had to show for the adventure were a few shaky sentences scribbled on a blotter. ‘U big hear-o,’ one of them said. Some hero!

  ‘Oi! City boy!’ a voice behind him growled.

  Tim turned. It was Tyler Thuggut.

  Tyler had been pursuing him since his escape from Cakeface, looking for an opportunity for revenge. Tim had shoved him aside and the whole school had seen him, staggering and flailing like a girl.

  ‘What are ya, city boy?’ Tyler growled.

  It was a mysterious question. A number of possible answers flashed through Tim’s mind but none of them seemed adequate.

  The small crowd around the scooter took a step backward.

  ‘I said, what are ya?’

  Tyler stood directly in front of him. He was Tim’s height but about twice as wide and seemed to have muscles in places where Tim didn’t even have places.

  ‘City boy!’ Tyler hissed.

  ‘Um ...’ was the best Tim could manage.

  Tyler raised a meaty finger and stabbed it at him. ‘Watch it!’ he snapped.

  Then, almost as an afterthought, he gave Tim a shove in the chest, sending him staggering backwards into the scooter. The handlebar caught him in the side and he half-spun, half-slid across the seat, landing in a heap on the other side. The scooter rocked menacingly, then fell on him.

  He automatically threw out a hand without any hope of stopping such a hefty object — yet he did! The scooter, tilted at an angle of forty-five degrees, stopped dead. He was either stronger than he thought or the scooter was lighter than it looked. Much lighter.

  He righted it and scrambled to his feet. Tyler was already stomping away and most of the crowd were warily watching his departure in case he lashed out again. Only Norman went to help.

  ‘Wh-what was that about?’ Norman stammered.

  ‘Oh, you know,’ Tim shrugged, straightening the scooter’s handlebars and staring at its instrument panel.

  ‘No!’ Norman was wide-eyed.

  ‘The other day. When I pushed him over. Just getting his own back, I s’pose.’

  Norman gaped, amazed. A vendetta with a Thug Brother and Tim was more interested in the scooter!

  ‘Hope I didn’t do that,’ Tim said.

  Norman followed his gaze to the scooter’s speedo. The orange needle was stuck on 25 KPH but he didn’t pay it much attention.

  Tim had forgotten all about Tyler. He was studying the other instruments, which also seemed to be broken. In fact they looked more like photographs stuck on the shiny red plastic between the handlebars. They had no depth, and the needles on the fuel and oil pressure gauges seemed to show the scooter was switched on and running. Only it wasn’t.

  He reached over and touched them. It wasn’t a photograph. The surface was smooth and seamless.

  Suddenly the school bell rang and made him jump.

  Norman laughed. ‘I thought you’d set off the alarm.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Tim replied, glancing back at the scooter as they returned to class, a different sort of alarm bell ringing in his head.

  12 : Newcomers

  ‘Allow me to present our latest arrivals,’ Mrs Millais beamed at the class. ‘From much further afield than Timothy and Coral Townsend.’

  The class looked at the scooter kids and the scooter kids looked back at the class.

  ‘This is Ludokrus and Alkemy Kattflapp. They’ve come all the way from Norway. Now, I shall introduce them to the juniors and then Alkemy will return to join the Year Eights while Ludokrus will be joining the Year Tens in Room 1.’

  The newcomers were both of average height and build for their ages, and both had pale skin that seemed a little out of place in the middle of a New Zealand summer. Ludokrus had a loose mop of light brown hair, broad cheekbones, a square jaw, wide friendly eyes and, when he turned to one side, such a finely chiselled profile that Tim heard the girls around him sigh. There was something casual and easy-going in his manner, and he looked perfectly relaxed standing there in front of the class.

  Alkemy was more compact and serious with a round face and a pleasant peachy dusting to her cheeks. Her hair was wavy and thick, tied in a tight bunch behind her ears. It was several shades lighter than her brother’s, and when she turned her head in a shaft of sunlight it shimmered with faint silvery highlights.

  Both wore jeans, white T-shirts and lightweight nylon jackets emblazoned with the logo of the Silver Ferns netball team — clothes that looked so crisp and neat they were obviously new. Their backpacks looked similarly new, one pink, one blue, both trimmed with bright yellow reflectors.

  When Alkemy returned she was put in the care of Harmony and Melody Jones who escorted her round the room and introduced her to her classmates.

  ‘And this is Tim,’ Melody said when they finally got to him.

  Alkemy held up her hand in a sort of muted high-five. ‘Pleased to have your acquaintance,’ she said, fixing him with a pair of clear grey eyes and a mischievous smile.

  ‘Er ... likewise,’ Tim muttered.

  The twins moved on. Alkemy did likewise, only once glancing over her shoulder to give Tim a second secret smile.

  * * *

  ‘This is turning out to be the most exciting year since forever,’ Norman said breathlessly as they sat in the quadrangle eating lunch.

  Tim nodded distractedly.

  ‘Where d’you s’pose they live? Mum never said anything about new people moving in. Fancy having your own scooter to come to school on. That is so cool!’

  Tim glanced at the scooter and the admiring crowd it was still drawing. He’d have to talk to the newcomers about that. Soon.

  One thing about country people was their friendliness. Since the lunch bell the newcomers had been mobbed by a crowd of greeters and well-wishers. They hadn’t brought any lunch of their own but were soon swamped with offers of sandwiches, fruit and muesli bars, and sat dutifully eating what they could while trying to answer questions in broken English with their mouths full. Ludokrus in particular already had a fan club. Tim even noticed Coral pretending not to take an interest.
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  This would go on all lunchtime, he realised. The bell would ring and that would be that. He had to talk to them and warn them to be careful. He had to talk to them now.

  ‘Wait here,’ he said to Norman, then strode across to where they were seated. He expected to have to edge through the crowd but they seemed to melt before him. He was still Tim Townsend: Rebel after all.

  Ludokrus looked up and grinned.

  ‘Hey ...’ he began, raising a hand.

  Tim ignored him. ‘I want to talk to you two. Now, please. In private.’

  Ludokrus and Alkemy glanced at each other. Tim glared round at the other kids. No one objected.

  ‘Mount Moron,’ he jerked a thumb at the low bump in the corner of the playground. Then, spying his sister hovering near the back, he called, ‘Coral. You too.’

  The three of them trotted off across the dry grass, following him and exchanging puzzled glances. Once he judged they were far enough away from prying ears, he stopped.

  ‘So, what is in the air?’ Ludokrus asked amiably.

  The others looked at him, puzzled.

  ‘I think he means, “What’s up?”’ Coral said.

  ‘Ah, thank you,’ Ludokrus acknowledged her translation with a polite nod. ‘What is it that’s up?’

  ‘Well?’ Coral crossed her arms and glared at her brother.

  ‘Oh, this is my sister Coral,’ Tim said to the newcomers.

  ‘Already we have met,’ Ludokrus said. ‘In class.’

  ‘That’s it? You dragged us out here to do introductions?’ Coral snapped.

  ‘She’s still annoyed with me about last week,’ Tim continued. ‘I didn’t introduce her to some people she really wanted to meet. Well, now’s my chance. Coral, allow me to introduce you to the mice.’

  13 : Little Clues

  It was hard to say who looked more shocked, Coral or the newcomers, but Coral recovered first.

  ‘Mice?’ she spluttered. ‘Have you gone completely crazy, Tim Townsend? You’ve come out with some pretty weird stuff in your time but this ...’ her outrage faded as she caught the look that passed between the newcomers.

  ‘So,’ Alkemy frowned, ‘when was it that you notice?’

  ‘About two hours ago,’ Tim said.

  ‘Two hours!’

  ‘When you introduced yourself.’

  Ludokrus grunted and nudged her accusingly.

  ‘It was me?’

  ‘No, not just you. I’d have guessed anyway.’

  Coral’s head went back and forth as if she was watching a tennis match. ‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘I told you,’ Tim gestured to Alkemy and Ludokrus in turn. ‘This is Grey Mouse and this is Fawn Mouse.’

  ‘Hi there!’ Ludokrus offered her a high-five. Coral just blinked at him stupidly.

  ‘You save our machine,’ Alkemy said. ‘What you call “calculator”. Thank you very much.’

  Coral’s mouth stopped working properly. ‘You ... really ... were ...?’

  ‘You didn’t come back though,’ Tim said.

  ‘We are here now,’ Alkemy offered. ‘But no, I am sorry. I was scared from the blurry animal.’

  ‘Blurry animal ...?’

  ‘Is that not what you call it? Blurred mark ... smear ... er ...’

  ‘Smudge,’ Tim said.

  ‘She maybe look OK when you are big, but to little person ...’ Alkemy shook her head and shuddered. ‘So, we have back our machine and we hear the noise. All I can think is the blurry animal return. I am scared.’

  ‘Excuse please, but I am curious,’ Ludokrus interrupted. ‘You say you would know us anyway from everything else. What are these everythings?’ He glanced at his sister. ‘May be important.’

  ‘Well,’ Tim said, ‘for a start your motor scooter’s not right.’

  ‘Hah!’ Alkemy elbowed her brother. ‘That was your work.’

  ‘How not right?’

  ‘It’s too light for a start. It must weigh about as much as my school bag. And the instruments aren’t right. They’re flat, they’re like a photograph of instruments.’

  ‘But this is what they show in the advertisement.’

  ‘Yes but they’re supposed to move, the needles and things. They’re supposed to show you how fast you’re going and how much petrol you’ve got when you’re riding along. Not when the thing’s switched off.’

  ‘You mean they are mechanical?’ Ludokrus was amazed. ‘So crude! But the engine sound is good, no? I was careful with the sound.’

  Alkemy was annoyed. ‘You! Always with the shortcut.’

  Ludokrus shrugged. ‘Is no large round of cards.’

  ‘Eh?’ Alkemy and Tim looked at each other, puzzled.

  ‘I think he means “It’s no big deal”,’ Coral said, finally finding her voice again.

  Ludokrus gave her translation an emphatic nod.

  ‘But could be,’ Alkemy said. ‘You forget where we are. What more please, Tim?’

  ‘That was the main thing. That was the thing that got me thinking. The rest were just little clues. Like your clothes.’

  ‘Our clothes?’

  ‘They’re the same. No brother and sister would dress in the same clothes.’

  ‘Hah, that was you.’ Ludokrus nudged Alkemy.

  ‘And that’s a Silver Ferns jacket,’ Tim turned to him. ‘A boy wouldn’t wear the logo of a women’s netball team ...’

  Alkemy nudged him back.

  ‘... and your names. Wherever did you get those names?’

  This time neither of them nudged.

  ‘They are bad? They are close as we can find to our real names, and they are from dictionary. Is that not where all names are come?’

  ‘No.’

  Alkemy looked puzzled. ‘Coral: stony formation in the sea. Your aunt and uncle. Em: a measure used in printing. Frank: to be open and honest. Even the blurry animal. Smudge: to make unclear.’

  ‘So what about Tim?’ Tim asked.

  ‘Ah, that we could not find. Maybe the spell is different from the sound?’

  Tim shook his head.

  ‘Our names are bad?’ Ludokrus repeated.

  ‘It’s just lucky you said you were foreign. You can spell them differently so they won’t look so obvious.’

  ‘Ah, good! We have much papers yet to make for your teacher.’

  ‘So you’re ... not foreign?’ Coral managed.

  Alkemy rocked her head from side to side. ‘Yes and no. But we are not from Norway come.’

  ‘Then why did you say you were?’

  ‘To hide our bad English! You language is giving is much problem. Complicated. No logic. It make no sense.’

  Ludokrus tilted his head to one side. ‘My name is not good?’

  ‘So where are you from then?’ Coral asked. ‘And what was all that mouse business about?’

  As she spoke, the bell rang and they started walking back to class.

  ‘We have much to explain,’ Alkemy said, ‘and also much help need. May we visit? At the place where you are lived?’

  ‘After school’d be good.’ Tim glanced at Coral, ‘It’s Uncle Frank and Aunt Em’s bridge night.’

  ‘They are making ...?’ Alkemy began.

  ‘It’s a card game,’ Coral said.

  ‘Ah! Like “no big deal”.’

  ‘Lu-do-krus. Ludo-krus. Luuuu-dokrus,’ Ludokrus muttered as they walked. He turned to his sister. ‘You say is good name for me. You choose.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Alkemy replied. ‘I think is perfect. Suit you.’

  ‘You think this also?’ He turned to Coral.

  She looked at him a moment then gave a small laugh. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I think it does.’

  14 : Home Sweet Home

  There was a postcard on the kitchen table when they got home. On the front was a cartoon of a heavily bandaged figure lying in a hospital bed above the message “Wish you were here!”. On the back was a breezy note from their mum and a few lines from
their dad, but neither Tim nor Coral gave it more than a cursory glance.

  ‘You need the name of a parent or guardian.’ Coral tapped the end of her pen on the kitchen table. ‘You’re not on your own, are you?’

  ‘No, we come with Albert,’ Alkemy said.

  ‘Albert!’ Ludokrus blew out his cheeks in disgust.

  ‘Who’s Albert?’ Tim asked.

  ‘Our ... what you would call ... guardian.’

  ‘I’ll make him “Albertus”’, Coral said, writing the name neatly in the appropriate box of the Rata Area School Pupil Registration Form. ‘It makes him sound more foreign. Surname?’

  ‘Idiot!’ Ludokrus muttered.

  ‘He does not have one,’ Alkemy said. ‘He is just “Albert”.’

  Coral tapped the form. ‘He’ll have to have one for this.’

  ‘Make it “Kattflapp”, same as us.’

  Coral did so. ‘That means he’s a relative, right?’

  ‘Never!’ cried Ludokrus, but Alkemy nodded. ‘Say he is uncle.’

  ‘How come he doesn’t have a surname?’ Tim asked.

  ‘He is ... what you would call ... robot.’

  ‘A robot?!’

  ‘Later,’ Coral snapped. ‘We need to get this done. Address?’

  ‘Over there.’ Ludokrus pointed south. ‘one thousand metre.’

  ‘That is not an address,’ Coral explained. ‘Where did you tell the Millais you were living?’

  ‘We said we could not remember the name of the road.’

  ‘Well we have to put down something.’

  They all sat thinking for a moment.