by James Roy
‘Oh yes, you’re absolutely right. It’s a great responsibility. But you’ll never be given anything beyond your wisdom or abilities. We’re very serious about that.’
Edsel leaned forward. ‘So, what’s in Number Four?’ he asked, feeling truly enthusiastic for the first time in a while. Such power – he loved it.
Richard reached out and rested one hand on top of the last box. ‘You want to look in here?’
‘Yes, I do.’
Richard smiled. ‘Robert, your curiosity and desire to open this final box is what makes us know that you’ll be a good match for Verdada.’
Edsel scratched his head. ‘So there’s nothing in there?’
‘Oh, there’s something in there, all right, and you can open it in a moment or two. But before you do, I want to remind you that tomorrow morning you’ll need to make your first decision. You’ll need to decide whether you leave right away, or stay for a seven-day qualifying period. One week, that’s all.’
‘And after that I can choose to either go home, or stay?’
‘That’s right, and if you stay, your Heart’s Greatest Desire comes true.’
‘But I haven’t decided what that is. How do I know?’
‘Only you can know that,’ Richard explained. ‘But you will know.’
‘And I’d have to stay forever? Forever is a long time.’
‘Indeed it is. But as you’ll see, this is such a lovely place to spend forever. Forever Young in a place of Forever Fun. It does sound good, doesn’t it?’ Richard rubbed his hands together. ‘So, what’s it to be? I can take you further on, to see where you’ll be living, meet some of the others, grab a bite to eat, do something fun, and you can give me your answer in the morning. Or we can arrange for you to return to what you call “Home”.’
‘Just one night?’
‘Just one night. Enjoy yourself. Make some friends.’
When Edsel heard Richard say this, he felt like a heavy weight had suddenly settled on his chest. Then he remembered the events at the parent-teacher night, and the weight felt even heavier. ‘I’ve never had a real friend, except for Pete,’ he said. ‘And a few other grown-ups. But no friends—’
‘Your age. I know. It’s good having friends,’ Richard replied. ‘In fact, it’s better than good. It’s truly great.’
‘Where would I sleep?’
‘That’s all taken care of,’ Richard said. ‘We have a lovely room waiting for you in the Domus, sharing with a very nice boy called Toby. The room’s got a wonderful view, a fridge and a cupboard stocked with everything you like. It’s very comfortable. There’s even a wardrobe full of clothes in your particular size and style. And best of all, some say, no one will make you go to bed.’
‘Even if it’s midnight?’
‘Not even then.’
‘And tomorrow morning …’
‘Perhaps you should go ahead and open the box,’ Richard suggested.
Edsel picked it up and removed the lid. Inside, bound in brown leather and with the same familiar V logo embossed on the front, was a thin book. He lifted it out. For some reason he felt the need to handle it delicately.
‘What is it?’ he asked, unsure if he was even allowed to open it.
‘That is the Charter of Verdada. Basically that’s a fancy name for the rule book. Everything you need to know is in there. Take it with you, have a bit of a read, and tomorrow morning you can tell us what you want to do, be that returning home, or commencing your trial week. Although …’
Edsel didn’t like the sound of that. ‘Although?’
‘Once that week is up, and your decision is made, it’s binding,’ said Richard. ‘Completely binding, one way or the other. But it’s all in the Charter.’
Edsel swallowed hard and thought about home as he flipped through the book. He thought about all the times he’d wished he could live somewhere else. He thought about his embarrassing parents, and the time they’d taken him to the Show but wouldn’t let him go on any of the rides, because they might malfunction, and refused to buy any of the showbags in case he had an allergic reaction to the lollies or choked on a toy or suffocated himself with the bag itself. He recalled asking his parents if he could try trapezing, even though he’d already known what the answer would be. He thought about sharks, and lightning. And he almost laughed as he remembered his boring house with the blue butterfly beside the security door and the bars across the windows to keep bad people out, and how his parents would have freaked out had they’d known where he was right now, grounded or not. With a possibly disease-infested dog on his lap.
‘Richard, while I’m here, what’s happening back … back there?’
‘Back home? Well, time is more or less standing still for them. They don’t even know you’ve gone.’
‘But what if I never go back?’
‘Your reality will be that you are in this place, having the best possible life, while you serve that place back there.’
‘But if time is standing still for them—’
‘You don’t have to understand everything, Robert. If you do try, it’s quite possible that you’ll strain something. But you can be assured that you’ll not be missed. A week, a month, an eternity in Verdada takes a mere moment in your world.’
When Richard said that, Edsel’s final problem was swept aside. If no time at all was passing back in his parents’ ‘world’, he didn’t have to rush his decision, and he didn’t have to feel guilty. And despite still being a little annoyed at the way they’d made him look ridiculous in front of his classmates and their families, he wasn’t exactly busting to punish his parents either.
‘So if I stay one night …’
‘They won’t even know you’re gone.’
Edsel scratched Bob between the ears. ‘I suppose if I went back I’d have to promise to say nothing about this, wouldn’t I?’
‘Who’d believe you anyway?’ Richard said with a smile.
The Common Room in the Domus was like nothing Edsel had ever seen, or imagined. It was huge, larger than the largest pavilion at the Show. Against one wall were deep couches and armchairs, with coffee tables between them on which were large round bowls of lollies and chocolates. Through one door Edsel saw a room lined with computers and game consoles and giant screens, and through another was a room filled with table tennis and pool tables and chess sets and foosball tables. A sign pointed to the indoor pool and water slide, and the tall windows along one side opened onto more of the park, and playing fields, and even a couple of roller-coasters poking up above a stand of trees in the distance.
And so many kids. And yet the place wasn’t crowded. So many kids, making the kind of noise that lots of contented, happy kids make. But the noise almost stopped as Edsel and Richard stepped through the door, with Bob trailing behind. All eyes turned towards them, and Edsel suddenly felt very much on display.
‘Everyone, this is Robert,’ Richard said. ‘Please help him – and Bob – to feel welcome.’
A chorus of greetings met Edsel, and a number of children stood up and came across to shake his hand.
‘I’m Griff,’ said one.
‘Rhiannon.’
‘I’m Juliet, and this is Wendy. She doesn’t say much.’ Juliet bent down to pat Bob, who was sitting beside Edsel’s foot.
‘Hi, Juliet. And Wendy.’
‘I’m Bryce,’ said a boy with sandy hair.
‘Hi, Bryce,’ Edsel replied. ‘I’m … Robert?’
‘Robert,’ Richard agreed.
Edsel looked around the room. Most of the children seemed to be around his age, but some were older, and quite a few were younger. ‘Where do they all sleep?’ he asked.
‘I’ll show you in a minute. In the meantime, let me introduce you to someone. Ben,’ Richard called.
Over on one of the couches a large boy of about Edsel’s age raised his eyes from his game of chess, which he was playing with a mousy little girl with jet-black hair. ‘Yes, Richard?’
‘Ben, there
’s someone here I’d like you to meet.’
Picking up a white cane, Ben rocked twice in his chair, then propped up onto his feet and walked over, reaching out to shake Edsel’s hand. Or rather, he stretched out his chubby hand, then seemed to wait for Edsel to take it. ‘I’m Ben,’ he said, smiling warmly, his eyes looking somewhere beyond Edsel’s right shoulder.
‘I’m Edsel.’
‘Robert’s thinking about joining us,’ Richard said.
Ben frowned, very briefly, before nodding. ‘Oh, I understand. Really? You’re thinking of joining us? Well, that’s great,’ Ben said. ‘There’s always room for more. And you’ve got a dog?’
‘He’s kind of befriended me,’ Edsel replied.
‘Ben, I’d love you to look after Robert,’ Richard said. ‘Until tomorrow. He’ll stay with Toby tonight, but I’d like you to show him around. Do you mind?’
Ben shrugged. ‘Of course not. You hungry, Robert?’
Edsel thought about it. He hadn’t noticed feeling hungry, but now that the subject had come up, he realised that his stomach was grumbling a little. ‘I am, actually,’ he replied.
‘All right. Well, come with me and I’ll show you where you can get something to eat.’
‘Can Bob come?’
Ben tilted his head to one side. ‘Sure, bring the dog as well.’
‘That’s right. No diseases here,’ Richard said, and he nodded towards Edsel. ‘Well, goodbye, Robert. Enjoy your evening, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, bye,’ Edsel replied, still rather confused by the man’s insistence on calling him by a completely different name.
With Bob trotting behind, Edsel followed Ben across the room, and as they entered the dining room, Edsel’s eyes widened, his mouth started watering and his stomach started growling in earnest. Every kind of hot and cold food he’d ever tasted, seen or imagined was laid out on the servery before him. Roasted meats, vegetables, salads, fish and chips, hot soups, salads, pizza, burgers, chicken nuggets, noodles – the variety was practically endless. A drinks bar stood nearby, with soft drinks, juice, milkshakes, hot chocolate. And there, just to the right, was the dessert bar, with cakes, biscuits, donuts, puddings, jelly and custard and ice-cream, all clearly labelled and laid out invitingly.
‘Whoa,’ Edsel breathed.
Ben grinned. ‘And you know the best thing? It doesn’t matter how much you eat, you never put on weight.’
Edsel smiled, and was about to laugh, before stopping himself. Ben wasn’t joking.
‘Well, that’s good, I guess.’
‘In fact, you don’t even feel sick, no matter how much you have,’ Ben went on.
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘Can I have some now?’
Without looking, Ben took a tray from the pile at the end of the servery and handed it to Edsel. ‘Get stuck in,’ he said. ‘And the best thing is, this is always here, from the moment you get up to the moment you go to bed, every single day.’
‘Where does it come from? Who makes it?’
‘I don’t know who brings it,’ Ben said. ‘No one does. Anyway, does it matter, if it’s always here, and it’s good?’
‘I guess not. And it’s free?’
‘Of course.’
‘And …’
‘Safe? Yes, of course. Everything in Verdada is free and safe.’
Edsel went along the servery, trying to make up his mind, while his stomach growled and complained. It all looked and smelled so appealing. The colours, the textures, the variety – it was incredibly hard to decide. Finally he chose a chicken schnitzel burger and chips, and a chocolate milkshake, while Ben waited for him at one of the tables.
‘So you’re trying to decide, are you?’ Ben asked.
‘Oh, I thought I’d try the chicken burger first, and see what that’s like.’
‘No, I mean are you trying to decide whether or not you stay?’
‘Oh, right.’ Edsel laughed self-consciously. ‘Yeah, kind of.’
‘You’ve got your Charter?’
Edsel patted the leather book. ‘Right here.’
‘Had a look at it yet?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Whether you stay or not is not always an easy decision to make. It would mean leaving behind everything you know. Is that going to be a problem for you?’
Edsel shrugged. ‘Not really. I don’t have a lot of friends, except for this guy I know called Pete. And my parents are … well, I don’t really know how to describe them, to be honest.’
‘Try.’
‘Well, my dad’s always at work, and when he’s not, he’s either too tired, or he’s working on this old crappy car he keeps out in the garage. And every night he comes to tuck me in. At my age! And he checks my window to make sure I haven’t left it open.’
‘Is he worried about burglars? Or kidnappers?’
‘Both those things. Chilly breezes, too.’
‘Wow.’
‘I know.’
‘And your mum?’
‘All she ever does is cook, and eat. And worry.’
‘Is she … ?’
‘Yes. She’s huge.’
‘Is she unhappy?’
‘Because she’s so fat? I think so.’
‘No, I mean, is she fat because she’s so unhappy?’
Edsel frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
Ben waved the thought away. ‘Don’t worry about it. And Pete – what about him?’
‘What about him? He’s kind of old. He and his mum own this junk shop.’
‘No friends who live near you?’
‘Nope. I mean, there are some kids who live in the street, but they’re all little. Not my age at all, except for the guy who lives across the street, who’s nuts. Plus it’s so weird around my house that I’ve never really wanted to have anyone over. And my parents are too scared to let me go to anyone else’s house. So I mostly spend time at home. Number 58, Bland Street, West Malaise.’
Ben smiled. ‘What’s your house like?’
‘It’s a house,’ Edsel said with a shrug. ‘Why?’
‘Just describe it for me. Please.’
Edsel thought about his house, and everything about it that he hated. ‘It’s made out of bricks, I guess, and it’s got a tile roof, I think. And there’s a garden out the front, but it’s nothing like this garden,’ he said, nodding out the window at the expanse of lawn and the landscaped garden beds. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that you—’
‘That’s okay. Go on.’
‘Well there’s a garage, where my dad keeps the old car, like I said. Oh, and you’ll like this – we’ve got a big butterfly on the wall beside the front door. I’m pretty sure it’s blue.’ He chuckled. ‘Imagine that – a big blue butterfly.’
‘Yeah.’ Ben smiled, a distant expression on his face. ‘Imagine.’
‘Why do you want to know about where I live?’
‘Oh, no reason.’ Ben’s attention seemed to have suddenly returned fully to the conversation. ‘Tell me, do you like your school? Your teachers?’
‘Not really. They’re all mean. Ms Finn’s all right. Or at least I thought she was, until I turned up with my parents for an interview and Graham was there. The counsellor,’ he added.
‘It sounds like you don’t have a lot to go back for,’ Ben said. ‘Do you?’
‘I guess not.’
‘Ever been to camp?’
‘Only school camp. Once.’
‘And?’
Edsel shrugged. ‘It was okay. The food was gross, and I didn’t have any friends, but the activities looked good, I guess. Except I had a letter from my parents saying that I couldn’t do anything dangerous. Which was pretty much everything except gold-panning and pottery. Yay.’
‘Well, think about Verdada as school camp with great food, lots of friends, and the best activities, and you can do all of them. And no worksheets to fill in. If you come and live here, you get to eat more of this every day, and you get to
do whatever you like on your days off. You can even do pottery, if you want,’ he added with a wink.
‘Isn’t it kind of like child labour, getting kids to work?’
Ben smiled. ‘It’s not really work. It’s very easygoing. We just do our thing for an hour or two, and then we get the rest of the day off, to do whatever we like. Or if we’re having a great time, we can go for a few days in a row. But usually a few hours work is all you have to do. It’s a small price to pay, really, for everything else.’
‘Yeah, that’s what Richard said.’
Ben turned his head. A little kid had come over, and was standing at the end of their table, waiting patiently. He looked to be about the same age as Hoagy. ‘Are you Robert?’ he asked Edsel.
‘No, I’m Ed … Yes, I think I am Robert,’ Edsel replied. ‘Who are you?’
‘This is Joe,’ Ben said, and the kid grinned and nodded.
‘So tell me, Joe, do you like living here?’ Edsel asked.
‘I love it!’ Joe replied, grinning. ‘I get to do some sorting stuff, and then I get to go to the beach. I love the beach. I can surf now. I couldn’t surf when I first came here, I think, but I can surf now.’
‘That’s pretty cool,’ Edsel said.
‘Not everyone likes to go to the beach,’ Joe went on. ‘My friend Henrietta never comes to the beach with me. I think she’s scared of the water.’
‘Really? Why’s that?’
Joe shrugged. ‘Dunno. But I say to her, “I’m going to the beach. Do you want to come?”, but she always says “No, I don’t like the beach.” So she doesn’t come.’
‘Thanks, Joe,’ Ben said, patting him on the shoulder. ‘I need to talk to Robert some more.’
‘Okay. See ya,’ Joe chirped, turning to leave.
As Edsel watched Joe go, he saw something unusual. One of the little boy’s legs was a strange shape, bent like a green branch that’s been snapped in the middle, and he was limping slightly.
‘What’s wrong with his leg?’ Edsel asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s all kind of bent.’
‘Is it hurting him?’
‘It doesn’t seem to be.’
‘He gets by. Anyway, no one here is entirely normal. We might look it, but we’re not.’