Frankie Fish and the Great Wall of Chaos

by Peter Helliar

  Carmel and Christine looked a little confused. ‘Well, I hope that works out for him,’ Carmel offered politely. ‘We have come all the way from America – Texas, to be precise – to show you this photograph, and –’

  ‘That photo was just taken today,’ interrupted Frankie. ‘It doesn’t make sense – the photo, your silly wigs, none of it.’

  For a moment Carmel’s face darkened, like a cloud had passed across it. But almost instantly, the sunny smile returned. ‘I understand this is a shock for you, just as you thinking we are wearing wigs is a shock for us,’ she said, in honeyed tones. ‘But my sister and I have waited a long time to meet you and deliver a message.’

  ‘What message?’

  Carmel looked at Christine and nodded. Christine produced the tweezers once again, along with a second snap-lock bag, and carefully took out a tiny, frail letter on yellowed paper. It almost looked like a pirate map, with lines of shaky yet neat cursive handwriting. She laid the paper on the table, facing Frankie.

  ‘Does it lead to buried treasure?’ Frankie asked hopefully.

  Carmel and Christine slowly shook their heads side-to-side, like clown games at a carnival. ‘It’s addressed to you,’ said Christine in a hushed voice.

  Frankie began to read:

  Frankie,

  The Emperor’s Secret Prison, Beijing. Please hurry!

  Grandad.

  His hands were trembling now, just like the hand of whoever had written the letter. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

  Carmel suddenly leaned forward, so that her big, shiny forehead was almost touching Frankie’s. ‘That,’ she said, ‘is precisely what we want to know.’

  A fortnight earlier, Frankie would NEVER have believed anything so ridiculous as what he’d been told in the Cocoa Pit … but after his recent experience with Grandad in 1950s Scotland, nothing could really surprise him anymore. All the same, his heart was beating a little faster and there was a knot in his tummy.

  ‘Do you know much about World War Two, Frankie?’ asked Carmel.

  ‘Um – it was the sequel to World War One?’ he guessed.

  ‘Well, I guess so,’ said Carmel. ‘Our grandfather fought in that war.’

  ‘Specifically the Pacific War,’ added Christine. ‘In Japan.’

  ‘That’s right, on the island of Okinawa,’ said Carmel. ‘His name was Lieutenant Oscar Bugg and he was there for the entire bloody battle.’

  Frankie couldn’t have been more confused if they'd just told him that Taylor Swift was his twin sister. ‘What does this have to do with me?’ he asked.

  ‘As Oscar Bugg fought on the beach on the first of April 1945, the blast from a hand grenade blew him into a bomb crater,’ continued Carmel. ‘As he lay there, getting his breath back, the ocean washed an old bottle up beside him. Oscar loved old things, and he was quite the collector of antiques, so he just had to have that bottle. He shoved it under his jacket and there it stayed for the entire battle – all eighty-two days – until he brought it home with him, right back to the good old USA.’

  At this, Christine reached into her giant sparkly handbag and produced a smallish package. It was carefully wrapped in a tea towel with a map of Texas on it, which she unfurled to reveal the oldest bottle Frankie had ever seen.

  But he still had no idea what any of this had to do with a photo of him, or a secret prison in Beijing.

  ‘When Oscar Bugg opened this bottle, he found two messages inside,’ said Carmel. ‘The one from the mysterious “Grandad” …’

  ‘… And this one,’ finished Christine, flipping the paper over.

  Frankie leaned closer. Written in the same neat, shaky handwriting was today’s date, Frankie’s full name, the address of his school and the time when the end-of-day bell rang.

  He looked up. ‘So this is how you found me.’

  The women nodded.

  Frankie’s brain had only just recovered from his first adventure with the Sonic Suitcase. He wasn’t sure he was ready for another metaphysical time puzzle yet.

  Carmel’s voice was buzzing with excitement. ‘That note, that photograph and that bottle have been in our family for so many years, passed from my grandfather, to his son –’

  ‘Our dad,’ Christine chimed in.

  ‘– And, finally, to us,’ Carmel said. ‘Now, you’ve asked us a lot of questions, but we have one for you, too.’ She grabbed hold of Frankie’s hands. ‘Who are you, Frankie Fish?’

  ‘I’m just me,’ muttered Frankie, taken aback. ‘I’m just an ordinary kid –’

  Christine snorted, and Carmel shook her head. ‘No. Because if you really were just an ordinary kid, then how is all this possible?’

  ‘I admit it’s super weird,’ Frankie agreed, ‘but super weird things happen all the time. My sister eats eggs with soy sauce, for example.’

  ‘What we’re talking about is not just weird, Frankie,’ corrected Christine heatedly. ‘It’s a mystery.’ She turned to her sister and added, ‘Show him our card.’

  Carmel fished about in her bag and pulled out a small business card.

  CARMEL AND CHRISTINE BUGG: MYSTERY HUNTERS.

  MYSTERIES FOUND, SOLVED, EXPOSED.

  Frankie’s heart began to pound.

  ‘Our grandfather collected antiques,’ Carmel said. ‘My sister and I collect – and solve – mysteries, and this is the biggest mystery of all. This is the mystery that began our fascination with mysteries.’

  ‘Wouldn’t stamps be an easier hobby?’ suggested Frankie weakly, starting to sweat.

  Carmel ignored him. ‘We’ve been waiting to solve this Bottle Mystery for many years, Frankie. And we aren’t going anywhere until we do.’

  ‘Tell him our theory,’ urged Christine.

  Carmel looked directly into Frankie’s eyes. ‘Frankie Fish, we think you’re a time-traveller.’

  Frankie’s heart nearly fell out of his chest. He had to say something. Quickly, he conjured up a performance worthy of an Academy Award.

  ‘A what?’ he cried. ‘A time-traveller? Ha ha! That’s CRAZY. If I were a time-traveller, do you think I would be stuck here? No way! I’d be outside, travelling through time, hanging out with vikings, riding dinosaurs …’

  Carmel narrowed her eyes. ‘Well then, how do you explain all this? The old photo that appears to have been printed on a modern printer. The ancient message that lead us to you. Are you a magician? A con artist?’ Her voice grew louder. ‘We have to know!’

  The words floated heavily through Frankie’s brain like a water-logged helium balloon. He silently cursed his grandparents for buying a ‘whiz-bang’ computer and printer, but mostly he cursed Grandad. The more he thought about it, the hotter Frankie’s cheeks became.

  Grandad had declared the Sonic Suitcase out of bounds. For everyone. And Frankie had stuck to this, even though it had cost him Drew Bird. But Grandad had clearly decided it was OK for HIM to break the rules!

  Christine slammed her fist down on the table. ‘TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW!’ Her mood was darkening like a hungry hippo on a diet.

  ‘Please, Frankie.’ Carmel was smiling, but there was something in her voice he did not like. ‘If there is some simple explanation, we sure would love to hear it.’

  Frankie took a fistful of shortbreads to buy himself some time. He held the photograph in his other hand, studying it intently while trying to remain calm.

  ‘I think …’ said Frankie slowly.

  ‘Yes?’ said the twins eagerly, in unison.

  ‘That …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘… I, er, need to go to the bathroom.’

  Carmel eyed him suspiciously. ‘Well, you come straight back, y’hear? We’ve travelled too far to leave without putting the pieces together.’

  Frankie knew all about travelling far to get answers, but he also knew there was no way he was telling these crazy twins about the Sonic Suitcase. He shoved the animal-shaped shortbreads in his pocket and took another handful for later. (They actually wer
e quite tasty.)

  ‘OK, when I get back from the bathroom …’ he said, kicking his schoolbag further under the table. He’d have to leave it behind for the ruse to work, but it was a necessary sacrifice – it only had homework in it.

  ‘Then you’ll tell us everything?’ both sisters said together.

  ‘Absolutely,’ lied Frankie Fish, flashing what he hoped was his most sincere smile.

  He got to his feet, still holding the photograph. The sisters’ eyes didn’t leave him for a second.

  He paused nervously at the head of the table, his heart beating wildly. ‘Yep, just going to the bathroom,’ he said again, trying to sound convincing.

  Frankie took a breath, and then – with a swiftness that would’ve made the Hedgehog proud – he snatched the ancient bottle and the mysterious note from the tabletop and darted for the front door.

  Unfortunately, he barely got two steps away before a strong arm covered in red-white-and-blue sparkly bangles shot out and grabbed him.

  ‘Bathroom’s the other way, son,’ Carmel said, the sweetness draining out of her voice like syrup from a bottle.

  Frankie wrestled desperately, trying to free himself from Carmel’s clutches. He had almost succeeded when Christine leaped across two tables and grabbed a handful of Frankie’s T-shirt.

  In a flash, Frankie did something he’d always wanted to try from his favourite Jackie Chan kung-fu movies. He slipped one arm under her death grip, spun out of her hold, tipped over a chair behind him and darted for the door.

  Carmel and Christine snarled as Frankie tore out of the Cocoa Pit faster than a cheetah running late for a flight.

  As he fled, he could hear Carmel and Christine shouting all kinds of unprintable words behind him – which caught the attention of Drew Bird, who had just purchased a two-scoop ice-cream from the nearby Coneheads Ice-Cream Parlour.

  Whether it was the sight of his (former) best friend in trouble, or simple curiosity, Drew jumped on his electric-blue scooter and whizzed over to the panting Frankie Fish.

  The Big-Haired Mystery Hunters from the USA had stopped momentarily to unbuckle their enormous high heels so they could run faster in bare feet. ‘We’re going to get you, Frankie Fish!’ yelled Christine and Carmel.

  ‘Are they your girlfriends?’ Drew asked cheekily.

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ Frankie gasped. ‘But right now, I need your help – quick!’

  ‘Why should I?’ Drew replied, playing it cool but clearly intrigued.

  As he sprinted, Frankie gave his old best friend a little smile. ‘Because I think we’re about to go on that adventure I promised you.’

  ‘Really?’ Drew said excitedly, all pretense at coolness falling aside. ‘We’re going to time-travel? For real?’

  ‘Yes, but we need to go NOW!’ Frankie yelled, looking back at the colourful, ferocious and now shoeless twins bearing down on him. He leapt onto the scooter behind Drew and kicked off, feeling the wind in his hair for a few glorious seconds of flight –

  Until Drew planted a firm foot on the ground, bringing the scooter to a halt. ‘Hold on,’ he said. ‘There’s still that matter of you lying to me.’

  The footpath trembled as the furious twins pounded closer and closer.

  ‘But I didn’t lie!’ said Frankie desperately. The twins were so close now that he could hear their bangles jangling. ‘Well OK, technically I lied about lying, but Grandad told me to.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Drew, and he pushed off. The scooter began to roll again, and quickly picked up speed, leaving the twins behind. ‘I get it,’ he added. Drew had never met Alfie Bird, but he’d heard enough about him to know that if he told you to do something, you’d better do it. Fast.

  ‘And I forgive you,’ said Drew as they raced down the street.

  This brought a HUGE grin to Frankie Fish’s face – one that made the Luna Park entrance look like a mere smirk.

  ‘Where are we heading, anyway?’ called Drew.

  ‘Straight to Grandad’s place,’ said Frankie grimly. ‘And step on it!’

  The electric-blue scooter sailed through the back streets to Grandad and Nanna’s house. At the front, Drew Bird was as excited as a bald-headed eagle in a wig shop. On the back, however, was a very nervous Frankie. He had no idea what would be in store for him at his grandparents’ place.

  He breathed a small sigh of relief when he and Drew arrived. His grandparents’ house looked the same as it always had, which was a good sign. The last time Grandad had messed with the space-time continuum, the house had changed dramatically. But Frankie knew better than to think everything was fine, which was lucky – because, as he was about to find out, everything was most definitely not.

  Frankie rang the doorbell to see if anyone was home. If Nanna was there, it’d only be seconds before she was making a fuss and offering him and Drew tasty things to eat. But the front door stayed firmly closed.

  She might just be out, thought Frankie hopefully.

  ‘Let’s go round the back,’ Frankie told Drew. His instincts were pulling him towards the Forbidden Shed, which was kind of weird because Frankie’s instincts usually told him – no, screamed at him – to stay away from Grandad’s shed, no matter what!

  With every step Frankie took through the back garden, memories of his first time-travel adventure came flooding back.

  The three Grandads.

  Clancy Fairplay.

  The Big Race.

  The Amazing Freido and the electric eels (thank you, Bruno!).

  Frankie really wasn’t sure he wanted to go through something like that again. Drew, on the other hand, was super excited. He pointed at the Forbidden Shed. ‘Is that the time machine?’ he said. ‘Looks just like a normal shed.’

  ‘It is just a normal shed,’ said Frankie. ‘Come on.’

  He led Drew, who looked as confused as a possum on the first day of daylight saving, towards the shed door. The Forbidden Shed did not have a welcome mat for a very good reason: no-one was ever welcome there.

  The Queen of England? No.

  The President of the USA? Not a chance!

  The judging panel of the prestigious Shed of the Year award for Sheds Magazine? Not even them.

  Nerves jangled in every part of Frankie’s body. It was like he needed a root canal and his dentist was a clown wearing a blindfold.

  ‘This place is kind of creepy,’ breathed Drew.

  ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ muttered Frankie.

  Now that he was in front of the Forbidden Shed, Frankie wasn’t sure he wanted to find the answers to his questions. Ignorance is bliss, he remembered his mum saying once, after he’d asked what hotdogs were made of. He didn’t understand it then, but he understood it now.

  He also knew he had no choice. If Grandad was in trouble, Frankie was the only person who could help. He took a big breath and pushed at the shed door, which fortunately wasn’t double-padlocked for once. And that, frankly, was pretty weird too.

  As the two boys crept cautiously inside, Frankie saw something he wasn’t expecting. There was the Sonic Suitcase, sitting on the Charging Bench. Normally, when someone else was using it, the suitcase only appeared as a hologram. But this time, it was most definitely there.

  ‘How strange,’ Frankie murmured in surprise.

  Maybe his grandad hadn’t time-travelled at all. Maybe this whole thing with the twins was just a BIG misunderstanding.

  But Frankie didn’t really believe that.

  He began searching the dusty old shed for more clues, sure there would be something that might help him work out what was going on.

  ‘Hey, check out this weird old thing!’ said Drew suddenly.

  Frankie whirled around, thinking Grandad must have appeared. But Drew was holding up an ancient piece of technology: his grandparents’ video camera, which (embarrassingly) they still used all the time – even though you could no longer buy the strange-looking tape things you had to record stuff on. Frankie was about to warn Drew against touch
ing any of Grandad’s stuff when he caught sight of something lying on the bench near the suitcase. It was one of the camera’s tapes, with a Post-It Note stuck to it that read: Play me.

  With a trembling hand, Frankie slotted the tape into the old camera so that he could watch it on the tiny screen.

  ‘Wait!’ his best friend hissed. ‘I’ve heard about this movie that people get tricked into watching, and if they watch it they die.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure that’s just a horror film,’ said Frankie nervously.

  Drew narrowed his eyes. ‘That’s what people say, but how can you be sure?’

  Frankie gulped. ‘Drew, stop freaking me out and let me watch whatever this is!’

  Then he pressed ‘play’ and hoped desperately that the tape was nothing more than a compilation of Nanna’s favourite Family Feud episodes.

  But it wasn’t. It also wasn’t a life-threatening horror film. It was something MUCH more terrifying than that.

  ‘AHHHHH!’ shrieked Drew as an image appeared on the screen. ‘It’s a monster!’

  ‘Calm down,’ said Frankie. ‘That’s just a close-up of Grandad’s nostrils. Lucky it’s not on a high-def TV!’

  Grandad’s tetchy voice could be heard saying, ‘Is it on? How do I know if this blasted thing is even working?’

  Finally the old man retreated from the camera and sat down on his couch. ‘Hello, Frankie,’ Grandad began. ‘If yer watching this, it probably means we've got ourselves into a spot of bother …’

  ‘Well, you can stay in your spot of bother and I’ll stay in my spot of safety, thank you very much,’ Frankie muttered.

  ‘Allow me to say straight away that I am sorry,’ Grandad went on. ‘I know we promised to keep the Sonic Suitcase a secret, but there are some people it’s REALLY hard to keep secrets from.’

  Frankie hoped the ‘people’ Grandad was referring to weren’t gangsters or bounty hunters or the Mosley triplets. Then he heard a familiar sweet voice.