The Impossible Boy

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The Impossible Boy Page 6

by Mark Griffiths


  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A GAME OF CONKERS

  Gabby stepped down from the bus and watched as it chugged away along the narrow tree-lined lane. It was a bright afternoon and the sky above was a flawless blue canopy. Not far away a pair of blackbirds darted among the sun-dappled branches, orange beaks and eyes flashing. A tiny russet face poked out of a nearby hedge and regarded her. She winked at it. The weasel returned her gaze fiercely for a moment and then scurried back into the undergrowth.

  Gabby smiled. She was starting to see the attraction of skipping school.

  Thrusting her hands into the pockets of her parka, she set off up the lane at a leisurely pace, humming a tune to herself. It was good to feel the reassuring thickness of her notebook in her pocket. Making notes about stuff always made her feel more in control of any situation, like she was a proper investigator.

  The great part about being a trustworthy, reliable pupil, thought Gabby – one who always did her homework on time, was never told off for talking in class, never late – was that whenever she did stray from the straight and narrow, she was never suspected. Teachers never checked up on her excuses, never doubted whether the signature on a permission slip was really her mother’s, or, as in this case, never even guessed that the appointment card for a check-up at Blue Hills Cottage Hospital this afternoon had actually been designed and printed off on her own computer that morning. If you behaved yourself most of the time you could get away with so much more than if you were always on the teachers’ radars. The trick, of course, was to choose your moments and not do it too often.

  Woodlark Grove High School lay at the end of the lane. Gabby had chosen it because it was only a few miles from Blue Hills and relatively small for a comprehensive. Even so, it would be hard enough to spot a single boy among the mass of children that would soon surge through the school’s front gate. There was an old-fashioned red telephone box on the opposite side of the street to the school. It stood next to a few horse chestnut trees and beside some steps leading down to a canalside. Gabby decided the phone box would make a good hiding place to watch from. She swung open its heavy iron-framed door and slipped inside. The air within was still and silent and Gabby suddenly became very aware of the sound of her own breathing. On a whim, she breathed a patch of hot, grey-white condensation on to the windowpane in front of her face and dabbed a smiley face into it with the tip of her forefinger.

  From the other side of the glass, two real eyes appeared through the eyes of the smiley face. Gabby stepped back, knocking the telephone receiver off its cradle. She pushed open the door of the kiosk.

  ‘Gabby! Hello!’

  He was wearing a different school uniform, but otherwise it was him. Chas ran his long fingers through the flick of blond hair covering his forehead.

  ‘Chas! Where did you suddenly appear from?’

  The boy laughed heartily. ‘Well! That is the question, really, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’re not the Chas I know from Blue Hills High, are you?’ said Gabby, studying him. ‘You’re another one. A duplicate, absolutely identical. So what are you, then? A clone? A shapeshifter? A bunch of creatures from Mars disguised as the same human being?’

  ‘Blimey,’ said Chas. ‘You don’t hang about, do you? Straight in there with the big questions.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me?’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Chas with a grin. ‘If your mind can comprehend the staggering truth.’

  Gabby snorted. ‘Don’t you worry about me. My mind can comprehend some pretty weird stuff, even if I do say so myself.’

  ‘It’s a lovely afternoon,’ said Chas. ‘Shall we take a stroll? Before the school empties out and everywhere’s overrun with kids.’ He held out his arm.

  A cold breeze suddenly made the hairs on the back of Gabby’s neck prickle. She zipped up her parka, eyeing him uncertainly. ‘OK. But you won’t disintegrate me or suck my blood or anything?’

  Chas shook his head. ‘Wasn’t really planning to, no.’

  ‘Good,’ said Gabby, taking his arm. ‘I think it’s always better to check these things first.’

  They went down the steps and ambled along the canalside. Before either of them could say a word a streak of bright blue light whizzed past Gabby’s head.

  ‘Did you see that?’ she exclaimed delightedly. ‘A kingfisher!’

  ‘Look,’ said Chas, pointing. ‘It’s landed on the ground on the opposite side of the canal. By that old bench. You see it?’

  Gabby shaded her eyes and screwed up her face. ‘Not really.’

  ‘Here,’ said Chas, passing her a chunky pair of binoculars. ‘Use these.’

  ‘Great. Thanks.’ Gabby took the binoculars and raised them to her eyes. ‘I can see it!’ she cried. ‘It’s got a little fish in its beak! Here – you see . . .’

  She passed back the binoculars. Chas used them to locate the tiny blue-and-orange bird. ‘Oh yes!’ He was grinning with pleasure.

  ‘There’s just one thing I don’t understand,’ said Gabby.

  ‘What’s that? Oooh – he’s off. There he goes.’ He lowered the binoculars. ‘What don’t you understand?’

  ‘Where the heck did you get those binoculars from? You weren’t carrying them and you haven’t got a bag.’

  Chas pointed a finger at her. ‘You’re good. You notice stuff. No one notices stuff. Even when I parade weirdness in front of them. But you do. You’re pretty unique, Gabby.’

  Don’t you dare blush, Gabby thought to herself. Just be cool about this. ‘Am I?’ she blurted out, her face turning bright red. ‘Oh wowsers! Haha! Maybe I am. I dunno. Haha!’

  Oh well done, Gab, she thought.

  ‘Well, there are versions of me attending over two thousand schools in this country,’ said Chas. ‘Two thousand Chases out there all doing impossible things. And you’re the only person to realise it. That’s some brain you’ve got.’

  She clenched her fists in her coat pocket, willing herself not to blush again. ‘But how is that even possible?’ she asked. Something felt wrong. ‘Oh great,’ she muttered, suddenly clapping a hand to her forehead. ‘Must have left my notebook in the phone kiosk.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ said Chas with a strange smile. ‘Try your pocket now.’

  Gabby slid her hand back into the pocket of her parka. ‘It’s there!’ she gasped. ‘My notebook! How? How did you do that? Was it there all the time and you just monkeyed with my brain so I thought it wasn’t? Or are you feeding me illusions now?’ She whipped the notebook out of her pocket and showed it to him, the pages flapping in the wind. ‘Is this really my notebook or just a figment of my imagination?’

  Chas laughed. ‘It’s definitely real, Gabby.’

  ‘So how did you do it? Is it something to do with that sports bag you disappeared into the other night? I followed you, you know.’

  ‘I know. And it didn’t take impossible powers to overhear you having an argument with that old lady.’

  Gabby snorted. ‘Typical Geek Inc. investigation! Complete foul-up! That’s the organisation I belong to, by the way. Geek Inc. We investigate impossible things. Like you.’

  ‘That I didn’t know,’ said Chas. ‘Sounds impressive. What other strange phenomena have you looked into?’

  Gabby smiled and wagged a finger at him. ‘Don’t change the subject! One impossible thing at a time. How did you do the bag trick? Anything to do with wormholes in space?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘Teleportation? That would explain how you make things appear and disappear, including yourself.’

  ‘Maybe.

  ‘Is this connected with time at all? Are you able to freeze time? Is that it?’

  ‘Yes and no.’

  ‘Oh come on now.’ Gabby halted and stuck a hand on her hip. ‘Enough of the cryptic stuff. Please. If you’re going to tell me the truth, just tell me. I can take it. I promise. If you don’t want to tell me, fine. There’s a bus due in four minutes and I can be home in time for my dinner.’
<
br />   Charles shrugged. ‘OK. I’m a hyperbeing from the fourth dimension.’

  Gabby opened her mouth but nothing came out. She tried a second time but her jaw just wobbled like a newborn foal taking its first steps. ‘You’re . . . whhhhaaaaat?’ she managed eventually.

  ‘Close your mouth, Gabby,’ whispered Chas. ‘Standing there with it hanging open is not a good look. You’ll get drool on your parka.’

  ‘What? Oh, sorry.’ Gabby blinked and shook herself. Her face was pale. ‘You just told me something very extraordinary, didn’t you? And I don’t mean about the mouth-open look not being a good one for me. I knew that already. People say it to me all the time. You’d think I’d have learned by now. Now I’m gabbling. Gabbling Gabby, that’s me. Sorry. I’ll stop talking in a second. I think I’m in shock. I feel a little bit sick. Do you mind if we sit down on this bench?’

  ‘Sure. Let’s sit.’

  They sat down. Gabby smiled weakly. She was aching and tingling all over. Her palms felt cold and clammy. ‘I’m not actually handling this all that well, am I?’ she admitted. ‘I’m struggling to get my head around what you’ve just told me. Can you explain it again in slightly simpler terms? I can deal with it, I promise. It might just take a few moments for all the cogs in my brain to mesh successfully.’

  Chas took a deep breath. He placed his hands behind his head and stretched his long legs comfortably. ‘I come from a different universe, a place you would call the fourth dimension. All the different copies of me around Britain are actually all parts of the same being. Do you understand?’

  ‘Umm . . . not really. Parts of the same being? But how?’

  Chas considered for a moment. ‘Look down at the canal.’

  Gabby leaned forward and stared at the smooth glassy surface of the water. ‘I’m looking. Go on.’

  ‘Imagine you’re a fish living in the canal – a stickleback, say.’

  ‘OK,’ said Gabby. ‘Stickleback. Good.’

  ‘To you, Mrs Stickleback, the canal is your entire universe. You have no idea that there is a whole world above the surface of the water. You don’t even think of the water as having a surface, an edge. To you it’s just all there is.’

  ‘Right. With you so far.’

  ‘Now,’ said Chas, ‘a person comes along – me, for instance. I stick my fingers through the surface of the water – into the stickleback’s world. What do you see, Mrs Stickleback?’

  ‘Your hand?’

  Chas held up a hand. ‘No. What a stickleback would see would be five worms.’ He wriggled his long fingers, wormlike. ‘The stickleback doesn’t know the five fingers are all connected to the same hand. It just sees five worms entering its world at five different places.’

  Gabby nodded slowly. ‘Gotcha.’

  ‘So it’s the same with me. All the different copies of me are like the fingers of an enormous hand poking into your world from a higher dimension. All the Chases are really parts of the same large creature.’

  ‘So you’re just a finger?’

  Chas laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’

  ‘So, why do you look like a person?’

  ‘If you wanted a stickleback to think your finger really was a worm you might paint your finger to look more like one. Same kind of thing with me. I’m in disguise.’

  ‘You’re a painted worm? Is that what you’re telling me?’

  He laughed again.

  ‘So, if all those hundreds and hundreds of copies of you are just parts of the same organism, your true self – how big are you really?’

  Chas whistled. ‘Pretty darn big, actually. It might seriously blow your mind if I told you.’

  Gabby snorted. ‘Like it could get much more blown. Go on, tell me.’

  He smiled. ‘My actual four-dimensional body is roughly twice the size of your solar system.’

  Gabby swore. Loudly. She clapped a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes. ‘Sorry!’ she mumbled through her hand.

  Chas chuckled. ‘No problem. I think you’re coping pretty well, all things considered. Is the truth starting to sink in yet?’

  Gabby shrugged. ‘I think so. I guess this would explain the tricks you can do. You reach through this fourth dimension and invisibly grab stuff or put stuff into it to make it disappear.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘Cor. I think my brain needs an oil change.’

  ‘There’s no such thing as a locked door to me,’ said Chas. ‘I can see inside everything, reach inside anything. Because your human senses can’t detect the fourth dimension, you don’t realise that even a locked safe is open to me.’ He stood up and plucked a conker from a horse chestnut tree overhanging the bench. He showed its spiky case to Gabby, holding it delicately between thumb and forefinger.

  ‘Watch.’

  In a single swift movement, he tapped the conker case with the forefinger of his other hand. A shiny brown conker dropped out. Gabby caught it. Chas handed her the case. It was completely unbroken. ‘Open it,’ he said.

  Taking care not to spike herself, Gabby prised open the conker case. Its soft white interior was completely empty. ‘Wowsers,’ she muttered softly. ‘Is there anything you can’t do?’

  Chas nodded grimly. ‘Yes. I can’t go home. You see, I’m stuck in your world. Trapped, like a man with his hand caught in some railings.’

  ‘But you’re as big as a solar system,’ said Gabby. ‘How can a solar system get its hand trapped in some railings?’

  ‘There was an accident,’ said Chas. ‘I was studying your universe – you three-dimensional beings are fascinating – and part of me, the part you humans now interpret as two thousand copies of the same boy, got . . . well – wedged is the best word. I got wedged into your universe. And now I can’t get out. It’s kind of embarrassing. Bits of me can dip in and out of the fourth dimension to do silly tricks, but some part of me must always remain in your world.’

  ‘But what about your friends, your family, in your universe? Can’t they help?’

  Chas shook his head. ‘No one knows I’m here. And it could be a long time before anyone notices I’m missing. Time works differently in the fourth dimension. It goes in all kinds of weird directions, not just forward like it does here. Your whole universe might end before I’m rescued. I hate to think what might happen to me then.’

  ‘Is there anything you can do?’

  ‘There is,’ he said, looking away. He ran a hand through his hair. ‘But I’d need some help and it might be dangerous. Could be very danger—’

  ‘I’ll help.’ Gabby spoke automatically. ‘Of course I’ll help. Why wouldn’t I?’Her head was suddenly spinning with delight, her mind racing with countless wild ideas, her heart thudding with joy. This boy, she thought, is capable of anything. Literally anything!

  ‘You will?’ Chas’s big blue eyes were wide. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. It’s not every day you get to help a boy from another universe, is it? What do I have to do?’

  Chas laughed with relief and pleasure. ‘Oh, Gabby! You don’t know how happy that makes me! You’re saving my life. I’ll explain the plan later. I have an escape plan, you see, as every self-respecting prisoner ought to. But first . . .’ He grinned wickedly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Have you ever been to the fourth dimension?’

  Gabby laughed. ‘Oh, yeah. All the time. Mum and I have a holiday cottage there. What do you think, you lunatic? Of course not.’

  ‘Fancy a little trip? You’d be the first being from your entire universe to enter it. But it might be a little overwhelming at first.’

  Gabby squealed. ‘Oh wow! That would be incredible!’

  They stood up. Chas took Gabby’s hand. ‘For a three-dimensional girl, you’re pretty cool, you know that?’

  Before Gabby could reply there was a flash of brilliant white light and they were gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ALARMING ACID, BUSHWHACKED BULLIES, HAUNTED HIGHLIGHTERS AND TRASHED TROPHIES

  When Barney went to room U13
the next day for Geek Inc., there was no sign of Gabby. He waited patiently for the whole of lunch break, his stomach rumbling fiercely, but still she failed to appear. He guessed she must be ill and made a mental note to text her that night when he got home after football practice. With just a couple of minutes to go before afternoon registration, he dashed to the tuck shop and bought an apple, taking huge wet bites from it as he hurried to his form room.

  Pulling open the door at the school’s main entrance, he was almost knocked to the ground by the tall, bustling figure of the chemistry teacher, Miss Roberts, who was bursting out of the building in a state of some distress, her high-heeled boots making loud clumping sounds and her dark hair streaming behind her in messy tangles.

  ‘Why don’t you look where you’re going, you little fool?’ she called to him over her shoulder in her sing-song Welsh accent and strode towards the car park.

  Barney blinked at her in surprise and went inside.

  Clomp-clomp-clomp went Miss Roberts’s boots on the tarmac. What a morning! she thought. It had all been too much. She needed to go home and unwind on the sofa with box of chocolates and her cat, Captain Fluffmeister, on her lap – and had just informed the headmaster that that was precisely what she was going to do. The headmaster, Mr Siskin, could only nod dumbly – like everyone else in the school he was a bit afraid of Miss Roberts and didn’t like disagreeing with her.

  She hadn’t been looking forward to this morning. She was due to teach a Year Ten class that included that insufferable know-it-all, Gabrielle Grayling. It was obvious that the Grayling girl knew just as much about chemistry as she did herself – if not more – but the thing that really got up Miss Roberts’s nose was that Gabby was so unfailingly nice the whole time. When a pupil was as bright and gifted as Gabrielle Grayling, you wanted them to have a horrible personality so you didn’t feel so bad about hating them. But Gabby was just so quiet and patient and thoughtful that it made her want to scream. On several occasions she had made fun of Gabby in front of the class, banged her metre-long wooden ruler on the desk to startle her, and deliberately given her poorer marks than she deserved, just to see if she could provoke Gabby into some angry reaction, but all her attempts had failed. When Gabby had been absent from this morning’s lesson, Miss Roberts had felt a wave of relief.

 

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