The Magic of Hobson Jobson

by Soyna Owley

  ‘They are precious, Yaksha. You will see,’ Balsam said. Chutney walked up to him, licked his hand, then curled down at Floyd’s feet.

  Ela continued, ‘Your eyes represent duality, the choice that Durjipore will face—deciding either to flourish or perish,’ she said, pouring boiling water into the cups.

  ‘The brown eye represents the land of these islands and the blue eye, the waters in and around us,’ Balsam explained.

  ‘It’s important you understand. If you turn away, no one else can do this and the Merrows will destroy us,’ Ela said, as she passed the cups of tea around.

  Floyd gritted his teeth inwardly. How dare these Ressuldars, or whatever they were, sit there, calmly telling him he was a bloody Yaksha responsible for Durjipore? Didn’t they know what his family had just been through? He felt his temper rise. He turned to Ela and straightened his back.

  ‘I’m sorry you’re going to perish,’ Floyd said. ‘And I wonder why anyone would want to hurt you. Especially since you’ve been so nice, you know, holding me hostage and trying to blind me with lemon juice …’

  Ela shook her head. ‘Sorry about that. But the Merrows wish to hurt you much more; you will perish, too.’

  Ah, the trickery of these people. Save-the-earth-or-you-die-too? Clever. Very clever. ‘I can’t be responsible for the world’s problems,’ Floyd said, crossing his arms.

  Balsam turned to Ela. ‘Why does every schoolboy have to be so clever these days? The cynical self-involvement of these enfants terribles. Never mind that people’s well-being is at stake. Society has raised children like you to be brats, not caring about anything around you.’

  Floyd felt the heat rise to his face. ‘I don’t care what you think. You don’t know all that has happened to me. My brother—’

  ‘You diddling dahlia, I know exactly everything that’s happened to you, in fact more than you know.’ Balsam paced up and down the room, his hair sprouting snapdragons, this time an agitated orange. ‘We’ve had brave comrades surrounding your home after your brother was kidnapped, just to make sure you were safe. We arranged for Chutney to meet you so you wouldn’t go to those godforsaken Souks. And now that I’m acquainted with you and your world view, I question the ancient edict that summoned you!’

  ‘Balsam, quiet!’ Ela was frowning. The ends of her multiple white braids budded with pensive blue hydrangeas. ‘Go slowly or you’ll shock the boy.’

  Floyd felt his temper rise. ‘Don’t you—’

  ‘And don’t you want to find Farook?’ Balsam said.

  Ela’s hair was now sprouting nettles furiously. ‘Balsam, that’s unfair. It’s quite—’

  Floyd jumped up. ‘He’s okay? You know where Farook is?’ How strange to hear Farook’s name from the lips of strangers.

  ‘Balsam, I implore you. The boy must hear of this slowly to understand,’ Ela said. ‘It’s his choice. He cannot be coerced.’

  Balsam’s light green eyes stabbed Floyd. ‘My sister is right. The choice is yours to make. But if you want to find your brother, this is the only way.’

  9

  The Inkling Room

  Floyd felt hope rise in him like a soaring eagle. They knew about Farook.

  ‘Okay, I’m listening,’ he said.

  The clock struck one. A brass Ridgeback flew out, landed in a spider’s web and flapped, lopsided. After a brief struggle, it managed to untangle itself and flew back into its spot on the clock face. Floyd felt his temples throb. He was getting more and more involved in this sticky situation. Would he be able to emerge unscathed? He ran a hand through his damp, clumped hair.

  Balsam’s expression softened.

  ‘We believe the Merrows took your brother—accidentally. You were the one they were after.’

  Because of me. If it hadn’t been for him, poor Farook would be safe at home. His bad luck again.

  ‘The Merrows are after me? Why?’ Floyd asked, trying to dispel the image of a scared Farook from his mind.

  Ela turned to Floyd. Suddenly her hair looked dry and lifeless, as if the sap flowing through her had ceased. ‘Because they, too, know of your existence, that you are the Yaksha,’ she said simply. ‘That you, somehow, are vital to their plans. They want you.’

  There. The terrible truth that hung in the air pressed against his chest like a heavy stone. A battered tin kettle boiled thick liquid that spat into the fireplace, making the air humid. It smelled of mud and snails and fresh earth, as if it had just rained.

  ‘Yaksha, the time to act is near. If you undertake this mission, you have a chance at not just helping your own family, but also saving Durjipore,’ Balsam was pacing again, his hair dropping snapdragons at a rate that made Floyd dizzy.

  ‘What if I don’t succeed?’ Didn’t these people know about Floyd’s bad luck? How could an unlucky boy like him possibly save the world?

  ‘The effects on our world will be cataclysmic; they will destroy the earth’s forests, and thus, all of us,’ Ela said, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears, her tone softer.

  Floyd blinked his own tears back and nodded. How could he look these people in the eye and tell them he didn’t have the belly to try?

  Things were horribly clear. It was up to him to save Farook, and if the Ressuldars were to be believed, help his world, too.

  ‘Where do I start?’ He tried to sound brave, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t dissolve and a chill settled on the back of his neck. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  Ela nodded, as if she had been expecting this question, and again, small jasmines budded along the length of her braid. ‘We will need divination. The oracle for the summoned one is the Tannycatch,’ she said, making a sour face.

  ‘The Tannycatch?’ Floyd said.

  Ela pulled a book from the bookshelf and opened it. Durjipore’s Magical Creatures, by Jeera Mirchi. She glanced down the table of contents. ‘Swamp-goblins, Tack-Toothed gremlins, Tamarind-imps … here it is, Tannycatch.’ She read out loud, ‘Members of an ancient and savage demonic sect, the Tannycatch are famous for their ability to stretch their necks to outrageous lengths.’

  Demonic? Floyd grabbed the book from her and started reading. His neck prickled as the words stared back at him. He turned the page. ‘Irrational and irascible because of their fondness for Ninipuri powder …’

  Ninipuri? The Tannycatch used Ninipuri? Dr Mohandas had said the powder could cure Ma completely … His heart leapt with hope as he continued reading.

  ‘Females, traditionally, are averse to male members of any species and are not afraid to use their elongated necks to strangle them like a boa constrictor when provoked or when they feel they have been treated unfairly.’

  He was to meet with a demon, that too, a man-hating one?

  ‘Only the females have the gift of second sight and are consulted for divinations—usually as a last resort. Interaction with a Tannycatch comes at risk of harm to oneself.’

  He wiped the sweat off his upper lip with the back of his hand.

  ‘A Tannycatch cannot and will not perform divinations unless one is in her presence.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘And there’s no other way?’ Floyd said.

  Ela touched a painting on the wall. It swung open, revealing a spiral staircase made of yellow bamboo. ‘The Tannycatch is the only one who can divine the obstacles you face.’

  ‘Why?’ Floyd asked.

  ‘She, like all of us in Durjipore, is bound by an ancient edict, the one that summoned you, the one that made us your protectors and Chutney your companion, the cosmic law that says you and only you can save the island in its time of trouble. She’s not going to be happy about it.’ Ela grimaced and her hair gave off a scent of cardamom so strong that they all sneezed. She’s not going to harm you, if you follow the rules,’ she said, her eyes watering.

  ‘Where is she?’ Floyd asked.

  ‘Nagapattinam, India,’ Ela said. They followed her behind the narrow stairs, under the light of flickering torches.
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br />   ‘But that could take ages. It’s the other side of the ocean,’ Floyd said.

  ‘Shortcut. The Inkling Room.’

  Floyd followed Balsam and Ela up the staircase in silence, Chutney close behind. The musty space ended abruptly, with only a small trapdoor above them. A chink of light appeared as it creaked open. Chutney leapt through and they followed. This cottage was full of surprises.

  Floyd stopped and stared, dumbstruck. He had never seen anything like this. The room was the size of a cathedral, and its domed ceiling that soared as high as the sky was made of stained glass. It could easily fit over five hundred people. The air inside smelled of sandalwood. A red lacquered staff, with a handle in the shape of a Ridgeback head, hung on a silver chain from the ceiling.

  Hundreds of bowls—each the size of a washbasin—in different colours dotted the stone floor. Black circular ones, shiny red square ones, green oblong ones and star-shaped silver ones crowded together, all half filled with water. The room felt alive, as if it were humming.

  Every inch of the four walls was decorated with frames. Why, there must be thousands of them! He looked closely. They were doors, hanging one on top of the other, like paintings in a gallery.

  ‘Watch,’ Ela cautioned. Balsam took the staff off its chain and gently circled the rim of an oblong bowl with the end of the stick. A vibration sounded, growing louder and stronger, finally reaching a crescendo, and abruptly stopped. All the bowls shook slightly, their waters rippling, and the smell of sandalwood became stronger.

  To the left, a small blue door in the bottom row trembled and shot open, revealing a meadow with softly waving grass, a cloudless blue sky and a single tree covered in gold leaves. Red owls hooted as they flapped slowly around it.

  Floyd gasped softly. The door was a portal into another world. He was seized with a longing to run into that meadow that looked as though it could instantly soothe one’s troubles away.

  ‘I never get the right door on the first try,’ Balsam said. ‘That’s Om Valley. Lovely place if you want a quiet moment.’

  He shut the door and walked over to a sparkling amethyst bowl, running the staff around its edge. A hum, sharp and clear as a shard of glass, was followed by a rattle. A shell-encrusted door near the ceiling slid down and shot open as the others rearranged themselves. Silver light poured out and a misty pink steam floated around its edges.

  A low, gravelly voice said, ‘Who seeks counsel with the Tannycatch?’

  10

  The Tannycatch

  Sweat gathered on Floyd’s upper lip. Was he really just supposed to walk in through that door by himself and meet with the owner of that hoarse and terrible voice?

  ‘The Yaksha requests a reading,’ Balsam replied.

  There was a cackle, and then a small silence before the voice rasped, ‘Does the human come of his own accord?’

  Floyd felt his tongue go heavy in his mouth. I can’t do this. He stood unmoving, the Ressuldars very quiet. Their silence told him that this had to be his choice. Only his.

  The door vibrated slightly but remained open. Chutney woofed and licked his hand. Floyd looked into the trusting eyes of the dog and felt his nerves settle.

  ‘It’s my choice,’ he heard himself say.

  Ela nodded and squeezed his hand. ‘Don’t do anything to upset her,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t take anything she offers, except her advice.’

  ‘And remember, she is duty-bound to do this divination—but only this,’ Balsam said. ‘Don’t make any other bargains with her, don’t take anything, don’t give anything, okay? Just follow our instructions and you’ll be fine.’

  Floyd nodded, feeling his heart plummet into his stomach.

  Chutney tossed his head and pawed the floor. Floyd walked through the small doorway, the white marble floor chilling his feet through his shoes. The soft down of the feather under his sweater provided warmth. He jumped as the door shut behind him with a soft snap.

  A flimsy mist hung in the air, making it hard to see beyond the length of his arm. Alabaster lanterns emitted a ghostly light; the only sound was a thick gurgle of running water and a soft, crunchy sound. Like someone eating a bag of potato chips. Chutney squashed against him.

  ‘Come forward,’ the hoarse voice cleaved through the chill.

  Floyd jammed his knuckles into his mouth to stifle a scream.

  A swaying head, covered with matted grey hair like strands of dead seaweed, peered out of the steam. The neck began retracting into a wrinkled old body with six arms. The creature was sprawled on a mossy green rock by a shallow pool. She was the size and shape of a large walrus. Seahorses in iridescent shades of blue flashed among the rocks. A mother-of-pearl bowl, the size of a small bathtub, sat on a bed of coals and bubbled at her feet. To her side, a smaller coral bowl contained several slowly moving black creatures with curved tails. Live scorpions.

  Even his nightmares couldn’t have come up with this.

  ‘The Tannycatch commands you to state your name,’ she said. She picked up a handful of tiny scorpions, threw them in her mouth and crunched. That, then, was the horrible sound he’d just heard. The demon cocked her head at an unnatural angle and her six arms writhed like octopus tentacles, making small splashes in the pool. A small pipe from her mouth led to a bubbling bowl. She removed it and puffed out pink bergamot-scented smoke rings.

  ‘Um, it’s Floyd. Floyd Foxwallah, ma’am.’ He gripped his hands tightly behind his back, twisting his fingers, willing himself not to faint.

  The demon released the pipe and rolled over on the rock, propping herself up on two of her elbows. She dipped two other arms in the water. They writhed slowly, making concentric waves on the surface.

  ‘And your companion?’

  ‘My dog, ma’am. His name is Chutney.’

  ‘Come closer, Yaksha. Let me feel your face,’ she grated. Floyd found himself walking over to her, his legs seemingly moving of their own accord.

  The Tannycatch grabbed Floyd’s face, her rough, scaly hand clamped around his chin, the long fingers locking his head. Using another of her six hands, she parted the hair covering her face. Floyd let out a muffled cry.

  The face, only inches away from his, was completely eyeless. There was only wrinkled casing where the eyes should have been. There were no sockets to hold the eyes, no lids or eyebrows to cover them and no eyelashes to frame them. Nothing but dry, hanging skin. He tried to move his head but the demon’s grip was resolute.

  ‘The summoned one, the Yaksha, even you tremble in my presence. You are just another weak male,’ she cackled.

  She put a gnarled hand up to his face and, swaying and humming, ran her fingers over every inch. Her fingers felt like raw coconut husks. He tried not to look at the unearthly, eyeless head that somehow still seemed to see right through him. She turned her head towards the bowl.

  ‘Come, stand here,’ she instructed, releasing her grip.

  Staggering, he obeyed. The Tannycatch plucked a long, greenish grey hair from her head and gave it to Floyd.

  ‘Now pull a hair out from your head and throw it into the bowl.’ Floyd followed her instructions, wincing. The water in the bowl began to sputter.

  ‘Water is treacherous, mutable and powerful,’ she rasped, rubbing her rough hands together. Her head elongated, rising to the ceiling. ‘I see through water, Yaksha. Now you will see my clairvoyance.’

  The water in the bowl calmed and began forming fluid images, as vivid as looking through a window. Floyd gasped. The first image showed Ma and Papa. How happy they were as they held him and Farook—the boys in the image couldn’t have been more than five years old. The image melted into another that showed him and Farook giggling as they put paper boats in a little stream under a giant gulmohar tree, its red blossoms in full bloom. Floyd felt tears well in his eyes. The next scene showed him flying on Chutney’s back to Yama Forest with its strange umbrella trees.

  ‘The journey begins here, see,’ the demon prodded him with one of her thirty fing
ers. ‘You are the summoned one, the Yaksha, riding atop your companion—your winged dog.’

  Floyd’s heart dropped. Somehow when the Tannycatch called him a Yaksha, it had an air of finality about it. He was the summoned one; he had a destiny to accept.

  The water continued to shift and pattern images. Then a young boy’s blurry features sharpened into focus. It was Farook—a thin, scared Farook. Next to him stood a frightened girl, with light brown hair and pale skin. The image became blurred and grainy, like an old photograph, and melted as another appeared. A dark room with rough walls gave the impression of a cave or tunnel. Several boys and girls, all dressed in blue, crowded it.

  Then came a familiar image. Children on a ship struggled and flailed as they were thrown overboard by a hulking, shadowy figure. His dream, the night Farook disappeared! Floyd shuddered and looked away. The image melted into the likeness of an enormous flat-topped mountain covered in snow. Almost immediately, the water shifted and spat at them and the image disappeared. Then, for a flash, the image of the woman he had seen in the water at the floating markets. Unmistakably her. Before the Tannycatch could say it, he whispered, ‘Shaitana Salamandrin.’

  ‘Yes indeed.’ The Tannycatch dipped a wrinkled finger into the bowl and the bubbling smoothed over. She swayed on the rock, her neck twisting slowly, and her six arms still.

  ‘You have great challenges ahead of you, Yaksha. Why do you undertake this journey?’

  Floyd bit his lip. ‘To save my family, my brother … my mother’s ill.’

  The demon’s neck shot up to the ceiling and slid down again into her shoulders. She grinned, showing green teeth. ‘Really? Are you absolutely sure?’

  Floyd gulped. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ What a strange question. Why else would he put himself in harm’s way? Did she think he was mad?

  ‘Why, Yaksha, do you want to risk your life to find a brother who may not even be alive?’ she said.