by James Roy
Kenny shook his head dumbly. ‘Who? Who’s Graham?’
‘No one’s Graham,’ Edsel said quickly. ‘Graham’s no one. Mum, we should—’
But his mother wasn’t listening. ‘The counsellor, Graham. He seems awfully nice.’
‘The …’ Kenny laughed. ‘The counsellor? You’re seeing a counsellor? Why, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong. Gee, thanks for that, Mum.’
‘What?’
‘What are you going to see a counsellor for?’ Kenny was asking. ‘You feeling sad? You feeling upset? You wetting your bed?’
‘Be quiet,’ Edsel said. ‘Please.’
‘Or … Oh, I know what it is!’ Kenny said, brightening suddenly. Then he stood up, and started swaying his hips. ‘You’re trying to get in touch with your feelings!’
‘Just shut up, all right?’ Edsel snapped. ‘Just … just shut up!’
‘Edsel! That’s enough, son!’ Dad said, his mouth gaping. ‘It’s no wonder you can’t make friends if that’s how you talk to them!’
‘Oh, so it’s about friends!’ crowed Kenny. ‘Edsel doesn’t have any friends. But that’s not true, Edsel – you’ve got me and Mikey.’
‘There, see?’ Mum said. ‘You have got friends, darling.’
Edsel had had enough. He pushed past his parents and began to stride across the damp quad. ‘I’ll see you at home. Maybe.’
‘Edsel! Come back!’ he heard his mother call.
‘Excuse me,’ he said, pushing past a number of people who were standing in his way. All he wanted to do was go. To leave. To get out of there.
Then came the moment that he’d have been most dreading, had he even thought it could happen. His skinny, porridge-faced father was standing next to his huge, ruddy-faced mother, and was calling out. He was calling out loudly. And the words were heard by every person in that school quadrangle: ‘Edsel! There’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s just a counsellor! And he seems so nice! He’ll help you make some friends, I’m sure he will.’
And his mother was just making it worse. ‘Go after him, Barry! Go after him! Oh! Oh! What if he gets lost, or wanders onto the road? Oh! Oh!’
And as the sound of stifled laughter from the families and guffaws from Kenny pressed in on him, Edsel ran.
Edsel went home the long way, knowing that him being out there alone in the dark would upset his parents. He didn’t care. They’d embarrassed him more than he’d thought anyone could ever be embarrassed, so it didn’t bother him all that much if they got home and he wasn’t there yet. Sure, they might worry a bit, but he was safe, walking home using the back streets. Besides, nothing bad ever happened in West Malaise. Nothing good happened there either. In fact, nothing much happened in West Malaise at all.
He walked slowly. If anyone had asked him why he was walking slowly, he’d probably have told them that he was just giving himself enough time to calm down. But if he’d been completely honest, he’d have admitted that he was enjoying the idea that his parents were almost certainly beside themselves with anxiety. Perhaps they’ve already contacted the police, he thought, and when that idea crossed his mind, he picked up the pace just a little.
The other thing that made him walk just a little quicker was the weight in his pocket of the funny white plug thing that Ms Finn had given him. Where it had come from was a mystery. What it would do once it was plugged into the Egg was an even greater mystery. But when he rounded the corner into his street and saw the family car parked in the driveway, and recognised the dark figure of his father pacing up and down on the footpath with his mobile phone held to his ear, he knew that one thing was not a mystery; he was about to be in a whole world of trouble.
‘I’m sorry to’ve bothered you – he’s just arrived home,’ Dad said into the phone as he looked up and saw Edsel approaching. ‘Yes, thank you very much. I’ll be sure to tell him.’ Slipping the phone into his pocket, he turned to face Edsel. ‘Do you have any idea—’
‘How frightening that was for your mother and I?’ Edsel said. ‘A bit.’
‘A bit? A bit? Dear me, Edsel, it’s terrifying!’
‘Well, do you have any idea how embarrassing that was, back at the school? Anyway, I was just walking home.’ ‘We didn’t know that! Besides, there are all kinds of dreadful people out there, especially the back streets. Gangs, and prowlers, and—’
‘In West Malaise? I doubt it.’
Dad’s temper was fraying. ‘Now listen here—’ he began.
The screen door rattled and opened, and Mum was standing there, lit by the porch light. ‘Is that him, Barry?’ she called.
‘Yes, it’s him, Tilda. He’s fine.’
‘Oh, thank heavens!’ Mum closed her eyes, leaned against the doorframe and placed a hand on her chest. ‘Oh, thank heavens!’
‘Seriously, what’s the big deal here?’ Edsel asked.
Dad had his fists on his hips. ‘The big deal, young man, is that we thought we’d lost you. And believe me, that’s not a pleasant thought. You mightn’t think that wandering home in the middle of the night—’
‘It’s not even half past eight!’ Edsel interrupted.
‘Even so, you just ran off and … Son, is there anything you need to say?’
‘Yes. Can we talk about this inside the house, instead of out here in the street?’
‘Of course.’ Dad pointed up the driveway. ‘Inside, now!’
As Edsel passed Mum, she lifted her arms as if she was going to hug him, before thinking better of it, and took a backwards step to let him into the house.
The confrontation in the front room didn’t last very long. Basically it amounted to Edsel saying that he was sorry his parents had worried about him – even though that was only partly true – and his parents accepting his apology before adding that he was grounded until further notice.
Edsel headed upstairs. He was still angry about how his parents had humiliated him at school, but for now, he figured he’d accept the punishment. That didn’t stop him closing his door only a little less firmly than a slam and plopping himself into his chair. He winced as the strange white plug in the pocket of his jeans dug into his backside, and he rocked to one side so he could take it out.
It sat there on his desk, looking rather mysterious. The logo was facing him, taunting him, begging him to take it down to the Egg in the front yard, to see if it would fit into the socket in the dash.
And yet the ‘until further notice’ part of his punishment concerned him. While ever that bit remained, his parents were still angry, and could increase the length of the punishment at any time. So tempting fate by sneaking downstairs probably wasn’t wise.
Since bed seemed to be the only safe option he had left, he put on his pyjamas and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. It was while he was in there, with a mouthful of toothpaste, that he heard raised voices downstairs. They weren’t angry raised voices, but calling-out raised voices.
‘No, I haven’t seen them,’ Mum was saying. ‘And is there any need to turn my kitchen upside down?’
‘They aren’t expensive,’ Dad replied, ‘but I’d still like to find them before the weekend. Edsel, have you seen my sunglasses?’ he called. ‘You know, those ones I bought from the petrol station – have you seen them?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure? You know the ones I mean, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do, and I’m sure I haven’t seen them,’ Edsel answered, a little impatiently. Then, as he rinsed his mouth, he let himself have his recurrent little daydream about living in a house where his parents were roughly the same size as each other, didn’t get cream all over their faces, didn’t do all they could to embarrass their son, and didn’t develop a heart condition over a pair of $15 sunnies. In other words, a normal kind of family.
He returned to his bedroom, saw the white plug-like object on his desk, and immediately had an idea that might, at any other time, have led him to feel very proud, even a little smug. But on this occ
asion it was more a matter of him feeling relieved. He had a way of getting outside.
‘Actually, Dad, I might have seen them,’ he called as he pulled on his dressing-gown, and Dad came to the foot of the stairs.
‘You’ve seen them?’
‘Yeah, in your workshop, I think.’
‘In my workshop? What are they doing there?’
Edsel shrugged.
‘You’re sure that’s where you saw them?’
‘I think so.’
‘Where were they?’
‘Next to the thing,’ Edsel replied.
‘What thing?’
‘You know, the … the thing with the stuff.’ This was going much worse than Edsel had planned. In fact, had he known that he’d have to endure this kind of interrogation, he felt sure that he’d never have tried telling this particular lie to begin with.
‘I’ll go and get them,’ Edsel said. ‘I’ll be back in a second.’
‘You’re not letting him outside again, are you, Barry?’ Mum asked. ‘It’s been a big night already. Is he wearing something warm?’
‘Go on, be quick. And you’re still grounded,’ Dad said, as Edsel pushed the white plug deeper into his pocket and hurried downstairs and out the front door.
But he didn’t make his way to the workshop at the back of the garage. There was no point since he’d never seen his father’s sunnies out there anyway. Instead, he hurried to the Egg and lifted the dome. It took him barely a couple of seconds to slot the plug into place. Again, just as they had when he’d attached the dome, his fingers tingled.
‘Edsel!’ Dad was calling from the just inside the front door. ‘Have you found them yet?’
Startled, Edsel spun around. His father was still inside the screen door, a dark shape against the light.
‘No, I couldn’t find them,’ he replied. ‘Weird – I was sure I’d seen them there.’ He bounded up onto the front porch and went inside. ‘Sorry, Dad, I guess I made a mistake.’
‘Oh well, thanks for looking. Go on, upstairs you go. And think about what you did tonight.’
‘Yes, Dad,’ Edsel answered, but he knew that he’d be thinking about a lot more than how badly he’d been treated. Added to the excitement of the Egg, and all the money he’d been making from it, was the new mystery of the white plug in the dash. But it wasn’t all good. There was also the looming horror of tomorrow, and having to face Kenny, Mikey and whatever other kids were in that quadrangle when his parents stomped all over his sense of dignity.
Yes, he had a lot to think about as he climbed into bed and flicked off his lamp.
He was drifting into warm, cosy, dozy sleep when he was jerked back to full consciousness by a strange blueish flash of light, bright enough to see through his closed eyelids. He stirred and, getting out of bed, pulled back the curtains to look down into the front yard.
What he saw made his breath catch in his chest. The Egg still stood in position in the middle of the front yard, but within the dome was a kind of greenish-blue glow, like a very weak neon tube.
Edsel frowned and rubbed his eyes, and after pulling on his dressing-gown, he slipped silently downstairs. He could hear his parents in the living room. His father had given up on the search for the sunglasses, and having settled down to watch TV, was laughing in an annoying, snorty kind of a way, while his mother tsked away about something one of the actors had just said.
Grimacing as he eased the front door open, he slipped out onto the front porch, and from there down onto the lawn itself. He approached the Egg slowly. It was still glowing, although the light seemed to be dimming now.
Holding his breath, Edsel reached out with one hand and touched the outer shell. It was cold, so icy cold that Edsel immediately pulled his hand away. Odd, he thought as he absent-mindedly reached down to pick up the SPACESHIP CLOSED sign, which had fallen over. Even odder, he thought, as he noticed that one leg of the Egg was resting on the edge of the sign, as if the sign had been laid on the lawn and the Egg deliberately placed on top of it.
Especially odd, he thought next, as he noticed a small circle of flattened grass beside one of the Egg’s little chrome feet. He bent down to have a closer look. It appeared as if the little flat circle had been made by the foot, and by the weight of the dozens of little kids playing in the Egg over the past few days. But this didn’t explain why the circle was now beside the foot. It was almost as if the Egg had been moved sideways, just by a couple of centimetres. Moved and put down on top of a fallen plywood sign.
This is indeed strange, he thought.
By now the glow within the canopy had almost completely died away, and Edsel carefully reached out once more. The sharp iciness was gone, and as he slowly lifted the canopy, he heard a little hiss come out, a bit like the sound a can of soft drink makes when you first open it.
Edsel looked in. Nothing seemed at all different. He didn’t climb into the seat, but he did give the little joystick a bit of a wiggle. Then he pressed the button in the centre of the dash. Nothing, and nothing.
He was starting to feel a little cold now, even though it hadn’t been especially chilly when he’d first come out of the house, so he slid the sign out from under the foot of the Egg. Before propping it back up, however, he gave the Egg a bit of a nudge with his hip, just to get it back into place. And once he’d checked that the feet were back in their little circles of pressed-down lawn, he leaned the sign against the leg of the mysterious machine and turned to go inside.
‘Edsel? Edsel! Barry, he’s not here!’ he heard his mother shouting from inside the house. ‘Barry! Come quick, he’s not here!’
‘What?’ Heavy footsteps thudded through the house as his father ran to investigate, and blowing out a long, exasperated breath, Edsel reached into the cockpit, yanked out the plug, slipped it into his dressing-gown pocket, and lowered the dome.
As he pulled the front door shut behind him, his parents came rushing down the hall, his father mostly hidden by his frantic mother. ‘What were you doing outside?’ she panted. ‘You can’t just go out in the middle of the night! What were you thinking? And what were you doing?’ ‘
Nothing, Mum,’ he replied. ‘I thought I remembered where those sunglasses were.’
‘And did you find them?’
Edsel showed her his empty hands. ‘No, I was wrong again.’
‘Hmm,’ Dad said, clearly unconvinced. ‘Go on, son, up to bed.’
‘Goodnight, Mum. Night, Dad.’
His father’s thin, porridgy face was paler than usual. ‘You’ll be the death of us, my boy,’ he muttered.
As he rode around the corner near the front of the school the following morning, Edsel almost crashed into Kenny Sampson. He groaned. It was all about to kick off.
But instead of crowing about the events of the previous evening, or even snarling something menacing like he would normally have done, Kenny surprised Edsel by backing away in panic, tripping over his own feet, and falling into the hedge.
‘Stay away from me, you freak!’ he shouted, holding his arms across his face.
‘What’s your problem, Sampson?’ Edsel got off his bike and took a step towards Kenny, who cowered further away, his shoes scrabbling in the dirt.
‘I said get away! I’ll call the police! I will!’
‘Call the police? What for?’
Kenny struggled to his feet, tripped once more, got back up, and scuttled away. ‘I’m warning you, Grizzler! You stay away from me!’ he shouted, disappearing around the end of the bike shed.
A couple of the other kids had something smart to say about the night before as he crossed the quad, but Edsel barely noticed. What he’d seen in his front garden, combined with Kenny’s rather odd behaviour, meant that he had a lot on his mind, and he ended up with his name on the board three times for not answering Ms Finn when she addressed him directly, and on lunchtime detention for being late in from recess. He didn’t actually mind the detention since it gave him a chance to think, even with some Year Thre
e kid sniffing noisily into a damp tissue behind him. It also meant he didn’t have to hear the shouts and cat-calls from the other kids.
The blue flash; the apparent slight movement of the Egg; the strange white plug, which he still carried in his pocket; Kenny’s terrified weirdness: it all told him that something peculiar had happened the previous night. But what was that peculiar something? He did know one thing for certain – he wasn’t going to be getting under that dome himself. By the end of detention he’d decided that what he really needed was a test subject.
That test subject presented itself shortly after Edsel got home from school, in the form of Hoagy Wendl. Edsel was in the kitchen drinking a glass of Mars cordial and wondering whether or not he should open the egg-shaped spaceship for business as usual – and wondering if it was even safe to do so – when he heard a knock at the front door.
‘I’ll get it,’ he said to his mum, who was up to her elbows in a bowl of pistachio and pearl barley stuffing.
‘Make sure the security door is locked,’ she said.
‘Yes, Mum. Hoagy! What can I do for you?’ he said as he reached the door.
Hoagy was glancing over his shoulder at the Egg in the front yard. ‘The spaceship’s got a glass bit on top now,’ he said breathlessly.
‘Yes it does, that’s true.’
‘It looks awesome!’
‘It does, doesn’t it?’
Hoagy stepped from one foot to the other. ‘I know it’s a bit early and everything, but can I have a go before everyone else gets here?’
Edsel swallowed. This was proving to be too easy. ‘Yeah, all right. You can have a quick go.’
‘I’ve got some money,’ said Hoagy, digging about in his pocket.
‘You know what? I reckon you might be able to have a go for free,’ Edsel said with the most sincere smile he could muster.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, why not? After all, you’re my best customer.’
‘I am, aren’t I?’
‘You sure are. Come on.’
So Hoagy and Edsel went down to the front lawn, Edsel lifted the dome – again he noticed a very faint tingling in the tips of his fingers – slid the milk crate into place, and helped Hoagy climb in. With the dome still in the upright position, Hoagy looked around sheepishly.