by James Roy
‘The last thing,’ Edsel replied. ‘Everything about Verdada is what I want, but mostly the friends, and the stuff I’m allowed to do here. Before I came to Verdada, my Heart’s Greatest Desire was to be able to do stuff. And not just dangerous stuff, but any stuff. With friends, you know? So this is it. Simple.’
‘So your Desire is to stay?’ asked Jacq.
‘Exactly! Perfect, isn’t it?’
Jacq squeezed juice from a wedge of lemon onto a piece of fish. ‘Yeah, perfect.’
‘You don’t think it is?’
‘Sure. I mean it’s so convenient for you. You’re lucky.’
‘That’s for sure,’ Ben agreed.
‘I’m confused,’ Edsel said, watching Bob, who’d gone back to digging. He was deep in the hole he’d made, with only his tail and back legs visible as the sand flew. ‘You guys don’t seem all that happy for me.’
‘No, we are, honestly,’ Jacq protested. ‘But you are lucky. I mean, you don’t really have to give up anything at all, do you? For you, Here is better than There. And you’re not the only one. There are lot of other kids who would rather stay here than go back, just because what they get here is better than what they would have to go back to.’
‘Like who?’
Ben sniffed. It was almost a laugh. ‘Work it out. Hello, what’s the dog found?’ he said, as a hollow scratching sound came from the direction of Bob’s new hole in the sand. ‘It sounds like a box or something. Definitely not sand.’
‘Maybe it’s a treasure chest,’ Jacq suggested.
‘Or a secret door to another dimension,’ said Ben.
‘Yeah, the Infinitieth Dimension – apparently we’re almost there as it is.’ Edsel stood up and went to investigate. ‘Look out, Bob,’ he said, kneeling in the sand and lifting his dog out, before reaching down into the hole, all the way to the bottom. ‘You’re right, it feels like plastic or something like that,’ he said. Then he tapped on the surface with his knuckles. ‘Yeah, it’s hard, but sort of hollow. Here, help me dig a bit more.’
So he and Jacq began to dig, while Ben sat nearby with his head turned to one side, listening and making the occasional helpful suggestion. Fairly soon they’d dug away an area of sand about the size of a bathroom sink, and were looking down at a flat surface the colour of dry grass.
Edsel sat back. ‘Do you think it’s the lid of something?’
‘I don’t know.’ Jacq knocked on it again. ‘It’s weird. Let’s try over here,’ she suggested, moving a few metres away and beginning to dig once more. Before too long they’d reached the same hard, flat, hollow-sounding material. The third and fourth holes were the same.
‘It’s probably not a real beach,’ Ben said.
‘Well, it feels real,’ Edsel replied.
‘Sure, the sand feels real, but it’s obviously a man-made beach. What are the waves like?’
‘The same as always. About a metre high, all the same size, just right for surfing on.’
Ben smiled. ‘Just like a real beach, right?’
‘Um …’ said Edsel.
‘Trust me, waves on real beaches aren’t always the same size, and the entire shore isn’t covered with half-a-metre of sand. This is like a wave pool – a giant wave pool, just like they have at water parks.’
‘You could have mentioned all this before we went and turned the beach into a Swiss cheese,’ Jacq said.
Ben smiled and stood up. ‘And spoil all the fun? Bye, guys.’
‘Wait,’ Edsel said. ‘Did you know that this beach was a fake?’
‘It’s not a fake,’ Ben said. ‘It’s real, or at least it’s real until you dig too far below the surface. So don’t. I’ll talk to you later.’
‘Does he know more about this place than he lets on?’ Edsel asked, once Ben had left.
Jacq smiled. ‘He’s a mystery, that boy. He does the training thing, but he’s one of us. It’s kind of weird. He spends a lot of time on his computer.’
‘Doing what?’
Jacq shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
‘Surfing the web? Emails?’
‘Email?’ She snorted. ‘What would be the point? You’d email someone back home, and say what? “Hi Mum, Dad, I’m in a parallel place in the fifty-trillionth dimension, and my job is to sort the stuff you and your friends lose. Oh, and by the way, if you’re getting stressed about that umbrella you lost, don’t worry, you’ll get it back by Friday.” No, I don’t think it would work.’
‘Yeah, fair enough,’ Edsel agreed.
‘Mind you,’ she went on, leaning closer, even though the nearest person to them was almost fifty metres away, ‘if anyone could ever work out a way to email someone from Verdada, Ben would be the one. He’s pretty good with all that stuff, even without working eyes.’ Jacq stood up. ‘Well, I’ve got some things to do, so I’ll see you later, okay?’
‘Sure,’ Edsel said, frowning at the distant mountains.
Richard pressed the tips of his fingers together, saying nothing. Opposite him, across the chest in the centre of the turret, Edsel returned his stare, also saying nothing. Behind Richard stood Man, his silver suit shimmering dully, like the skin of a shark, and beside Edsel sat Jacq, her hands folded in her lap.
Finally, Richard spoke. ‘So, you’ve decided?’
‘I have.’
‘You’ve read the Charter?’
‘I have.’
‘And you understand that this decision is binding?’
‘I do.’
‘You understand that once you’ve received your Desire, you may never return to your old life.’
Edsel swallowed, hard. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘And you understand that Man is here as a witness, on behalf of the Mira, and you have brought your own witness.’ He nodded towards Jacq, acknowledging her for the first time since they’d entered the room.
‘Yes, I understand all that,’ Edsel said.
‘Very well. Then tell us, clearly, what is your Heart’s Greatest Desire?’
Edsel took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was softer than he’d intended it to be. ‘It’s pretty simple, really. I want this. All of this. Verdada. Friends and … and adventure and fun and … and all of that.’
Richard nodded, before turning to glance at Man, who nodded in reply. ‘Very well. You’re not the first to choose that, Robert, nor will you be the last.’ He stood up, and indicated for Edsel to do the same. At the same time, the top of the chest opened to reveal a brass object, made up of complex angles and pieces, like a sextant he’d once seen in the Grabbits’ shop.
‘Robert Armandine, please extend your right arm,’ Man said.
Edsel looked at Richard and at Jacq, who both nodded encouragingly.
‘All right,’ he said, holding out his arm.
Richard picked up the object and pressed one end of it to Edsel’s forearm. ‘Robert Armandine, welcome,’ he said.
‘Ah!’ Edsel said as a sudden searing pain shot through his arm. ‘That hurt!’ He rubbed the spot, and when he removed his hand, a very faint Verdada logo had appeared on his skin.
‘It will only sting for a day or so,’ said Richard, and he smiled at Edsel and Jacq as Man went to the door and opened it, to reveal the foyer of the Hub.
‘That’s it?’ Edsel asked, after an awkward, silent moment.
‘What else did you expect?’
‘Can I still come back and see you, if I have more questions?’
‘Of course!’ Richard replied. ‘What did you think – that once you were in we’d just leave you to your own devices?’
‘I … I didn’t know what to think.’
‘You can come back any time you like,’ Richard said warmly. ‘And thank you once again for your service to Verdada, Robert. We wish you all the very best.’
‘How did you think that went?’ Edsel asked Jacq as they crossed the park towards the oddly shaped Domus.
‘Fine, I guess.’ Jacq flashed him a quick smile, which he felt sure was supposed t
o be reassuring. But for some reason, it didn’t make him feel reassured at all.
‘Was it the same for you?’
‘Of course,’ she replied, absently rubbing her forearm. ‘Well, almost. What I asked for wasn’t quite as simple. And no, before you ask, I’m still not telling you.’
Ben was waiting for them in the Common Room. ‘All done?’ he said as he heard them come in.
‘All done,’ Edsel replied, still a little surprised at how uncomplicated it had been.
‘So, what have you got planned for the rest of today?’ Ben asked.
‘Dunno,’ Edsel said with a shrug. ‘I thought I might check out the movies. There is a cinema, right?’
‘There is a cinema,’ Jacq replied.
Ben looked disappointed. ‘Oh. Okay,’ he said.
‘Oh! I’m sorry, Ben, I didn’t … Sorry. We’ll do something else.’
‘No, it’s fine. I was just going to say that you might find the movies a bit …’
‘Boring,’ Jacq interjected. ‘And what Ben means to say is that you will find the movies boring.’
‘Really? Why? What’s on?’
‘Come on, I’ll show you.’
‘I’ll come too,’ Ben sighed. ‘It’s lucky I like choc-tops and popcorn.’
‘Is this it?’ Edsel asked. ‘This is what they show at the movies?’ He looked around the near-empty cinema. ‘It’s no wonder there’s no one here, if all they show is documentaries about lions!’
‘Oh, they show other stuff too,’ Ben said through a mouthful of popcorn. He rearranged his feet on the back of the seat in front. ‘Last week they had a film about Verdada.’
‘Really? Verdada?’
‘It’s true,’ said Jacq.
‘Even though we’re—’
‘Yes, even though we’re here.’
‘And the week before they had festival of old movies, and the week before it was cartoons,’ Ben told him.
‘Were they good cartoons?’ Edsel asked, already knowing what the answer would be.
Jacq snorted. ‘Hardly! No, we’re talking about the Meep meep! Oops! Splat! kind of cartoons. You know …’ And to highlight her point, she yawned.
‘Oh. So what if my Desire had been to watch good movies all day?’
Ben grimaced. ‘Probably wouldn’t happen.’
‘But if that was my—’
‘Then you’d be disappointed,’ Jacq replied. ‘Did you read the fine print?’
‘There was no fine print.’
‘There’s always fine print.’
As the days in Verdada passed, each one similar to the last but different enough to never become boring, Edsel began to find it harder to keep track of how long he’d been there. By the time he thought of keeping some kind of record, like marks on a doorpost or lines in a book, he realised that it was too late. Even if he did start keeping a record, he knew that it would always be that many days plus however many it had been before he thought to take any notice.
He tried asking Jacq one afternoon, as they sat on the grass between the Domus and the skate park. ‘How long have I been here now?’ he asked.
She shrugged. ‘How would I know? I don’t even know how long I’ve been here.’
‘But has it been a couple of weeks? A month? A couple of months?’
‘I honestly wouldn’t know, Robert. I told you at the very beginning, the days run together. But that’s okay, isn’t it? Because it’s fun here.’
‘Yeah, it is,’ he agreed. He plucked a couple of blades of grass and tossed them in the air, watching them drift away on the soft breeze. ‘And I haven’t really felt all that homesick yet.’
‘Or Heresick?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Do you even remember what your house or your family was like?’
He screwed up his face and thought. ‘Not really.’
‘So you’re glad you stayed?’
He smiled at her, his first real, proper, best friend. ‘Yeah, I think so,’ he replied. ‘I wouldn’t have met you or Ben or anyone else. And I wouldn’t be able to skate or bodysurf or go on roller-coasters or anything. Or play the guitar. I can play the guitar – did you know that?’
Jacq shook her head.
‘Well I can. I’ll show you later. I’m not good, but I’m better than I thought I’d be. And this afternoon I’m going to play golf.’
‘I’ve never tried golf,’ Jacq said. ‘Looks like a stupid game, though.’
‘I’ve never played it either. But I’m pretty sure I’ve always wanted to.’
‘What stopped you?’
Edsel smiled. ‘I don’t think I was ever allowed to.’ Then he frowned as he thought. ‘Yeah, that’s right, I wasn’t allowed.’
‘Why not? Too expensive?’
‘No, too dangerous. My parents were always worried I’d get hit on the head or something. I mean, it’s blurry, but I’m pretty sure that was the reason.’
‘Can I play golf with you?’ Jacq asked. She tapped her helmet. ‘It’s not dangerous for me.’
‘I thought you said it was a stupid game.’
‘Still, I’ll give it a bash.’
Later on, they met at the clubhouse. Edsel had seen a few golf courses over the years, but they’d always been on TV, being featured on his dad’s travel shows. They were nice to look at and all that, and now, as they stood at the top of the first fairway, he began to truly understand why people spent so much money on golfing holidays.
‘Looks nice, huh?’ he said.
Jacq whistled. ‘It’s amazing. Beautiful.’
Edsel rested the ball on the tee – he was pretty sure that was how you did it – then took the biggest club out of his bag. He swung it back and forth a couple of times, feeling the weight, enjoying the swish of the shaft through the air.
‘You ever swung one of those before?’ Jacq asked.
‘Only a couple of times,’ he replied. ‘Sometimes there’d be golf clubs at the shop.’
‘Which shop?’
‘The … the junk shop. It was run by this guy and his mum.’ He pushed his cap back on his head and frowned. ‘I should remember his name. Phil or Pedro or something … Nuh, I can’t remember,’ he said after a while.
‘It’ll come back to you.’
‘What if it doesn’t?’
Jacq sighed. ‘You’re right. It might not. But that’s just how it is. So, you going to hit that ball or not?’
‘Yep. Let’s do this.’ And shaking the tension out of his shoulders, Edsel stepped up to the ball, rested the head of the club on the ground behind it, and prepared to swing. Somehow it felt right – the grip, the stance, everything – and as he took the club into its backswing, he felt that familiar feeling of relaxation spread through him. He’d experienced it when he tried pretty much anything new in this place.
He swung, the head of the driver met the ball with a satisfying smack, and the ball flew down the fairway, a small white dot high against the clear, impossibly blue sky, then falling, bouncing, rolling along the carpet of grass between the stands of trees.
‘How did that feel?’ Jacq asked.
Edsel grinned. ‘Amazing. Your turn.’
Edsel wasn’t sure what he enjoyed more – the planning of each shot, the hitting of the ball, or the driving of the golf cart. But he decided very quickly that this golf thing was actually a lot of fun, and that he’d definitely do it more from now on.
Not that he was doing it perfectly, and that was partly what he found appealing – that no matter how well he hit the ball, or how close to his target he made it land, there was always the chance to do better next time.
Jacq wasn’t as good at golf as Edsel, and for a while he wondered if that was getting her down, but he kept telling her that he wasn’t as good at skating or surfing as she was, and that it was obvious to him that in Verdada different people still did things differently.
‘I know all that, but just once I’d like it to go where I aimed it,’ she said, after trying t
o hit the ball towards the green, but mis-hitting horribly and sending it crashing through the undergrowth to the left of the fairway instead. ‘Aargh!’
‘I think that maybe you need to relax,’ Edsel suggested.
Jacq put her hands on her hips and turned to face him. ‘So, one game of golf – sorry, half a game of golf, and suddenly you’re the expert?’
‘No, I’m just saying—’
‘Well don’t, all right? Don’t. Just stay here and mind the cart while I go and find my ball.’
‘I’ll help if you like.’
‘No, don’t even bother. Stay here and think about how relaxed you need to be for your next shot.’ And she stomped off towards the shadowy undergrowth beneath the trees.
After five or six minutes of listening to her muttering and stomping and crashing around, Edsel decided that it was time to help. He drove the cart towards the edge of the fairway, and parked it. ‘Jacq?’ he called. ‘Found it yet?’
‘No, I haven’t. And I’m about to give up. I’m working in sporting tomorrow – I’ll probably find it then, at the bottom of my crate.’
Edsel laughed. ‘Can I come in and help you look yet, or are you going to shout at me some more?’
‘You can help, so long as you say sorry,’ Jacq replied, but he could tell from her tone that she wasn’t angry anymore.
‘Okay, I’m coming in. And I’m sorry for being such a know-it-all.’ He picked up a club and headed into the undergrowth, pushing branches and leaves aside, looking for a glimpse of a small white ball.
‘It came in a little further this way,’ Jacq said, and Edsel adjusted his course slightly, working up through the shadows towards where he could see the red of his friend’s helmet in amongst the foliage.
Then, to his left, further in, he saw something promising. It was a pale spot, perhaps a white golf ball, perhaps something else, but definitely lighter than shadow. Ducking his head under an overhanging bough, he pushed further in. There was more undergrowth ahead, more trees, and yet they didn’t seem to have the spaces between them, or the detail that he might have expected. In fact, as he came even closer he saw that part of the forest for what it really was – a wall, with forest painted on it like a mural.