Charlie Bone and the Time Twister

by Jenny Nimmo

  Mrs. Bone picked up the painting. "The Sorcerer," she said, reading the painted scrawl at the bottom of the picture.

  Charlie hadn't even noticed that the painting had a title. "I think it was a trick," he murmured.

  "What sort of trick, Charlie?"

  "I don't know yet." He carefully turned the painting over again.

  "Tell you what," said Mrs. Bone, patting Charlie's shoulder. "I'll just run upstairs and change my clothes, and then we'll have a nice cup of tea before you go to bed, shall we?"

  "Yes," said Charlie, wondering how a cup of tea could take away the memory of the sorcerer's eyes.

  He noted the sparkle of sequins on his mother's dress as she began to unbutton her coat. "Mom, Dad might not be . . ."

  Mrs. Bone swung around. "Might not be what?"

  "Might not be dead," Charlie said quietly.

  "Oh, Charlie, bless you. Of course, he is." She gave Charlie a peck on the cheek and hastened out. She didn't seem as sad as she usually did at the thought of his father. This worried Charlie.

  Mrs. Bone had only been gone a few seconds when Uncle Paton poked his head around the door. He was holding a lighted candle. "1 feel hungry," he said. "Mind if I turn the light out, Charlie?"

  Charlie shook his head. The lamp above the table went out and Uncle Paton walked to the fridge. He brought out a plate of cold ham and tomatoes. He set the plate and a candle on the table. He was about to speak when he saw the back of the painting.

  "I hope that isn't what I think it is," said Paton.

  "What do you think it is?" asked Charlie, alarmed by his uncle's grim expression.

  "I'm very much afraid that it might be……..” He turned the painting face up and sighed. "Yes, I thought so. 1 suppose my sisters left it here."

  "Is it someone in the family?" asked Charlie.

  "Indeed, yes. His name was Skarpo," said Paton, "and he was a very powerful sorcerer."

  "Uncle Paton, my . . . my endowment," Charlie spoke hesitantly "I thought it only worked with photos."

  Paton stared at Charlie. "Do you mean that you have heard . . .?" He pointed at the sorcerer. "Did this man speak to you?"

  "Not exactly," said Charlie, "I just heard . . ."

  "Charlie!" Paton slammed the painting face down on the table. "You didn't go in, did you?"

  "Go in?" said Charlie wildly "What do you mean 'go in'? I was just looking at it when he . . . when he turned his head and stared at me."

  Paton regarded Charlie with a mixture of fear and concern. "Then he has seen you," he said gravely.

  And as his uncle spoke, Charlie heard the moan of a chill wind. He heard the rattle of chains, a terrible cry and the shrill, dry chanting of Skarpo the sorcerer.

  CHAPTER 10

  THE PETS’ CAFÉ

  For a few seconds, Charlie and his great-uncle looked at each other in complete silence. And then Paton sat at the table and said, "I wish I'd known about this before, but to tell the truth, Charlie, I've only just learned what your endowment could lead to."

  "I don't understand," said Charlie. At the back of his mind he could still hear the dreadful chanting voice.

  "It's like this," said Paton. “As you know, I've been working on a history of the Yewbeams and their ancestor, the Red King. This has entailed a great deal of research, in the course of which I have come across several characters whose talents are very similar to yours and those of your friends. One of them, a certain Charles Pennybuck, began by hearing portraits speak — he lived long before photos had arrived on the scene — this eventually led to his entering the portraits and conversing directly with the — how shall we say — the persons depicted in the paintings.”

  "You mean, they could see him, too?"

  "Oh, yes," said Paton. "Unfortunately poor Pennybuck came to a very sticky end. Got caught in the portrait of a really nasty character, the Count of Corbeau, if I remember rightly Went quite mad."

  "Who?" asked Charlie. " Pennybuck or the count?"

  " Pennybuck, of course," said Paton. "Oh dear, I probably shouldn't have told you that, Charlie. Now, you mustn't worry I'm sure it won't happen to you."

  "But what about Skarpo?" said Charlie anxiously "I mean if he's seen me . . ."

  "Ah, Skarpo!" Paton went to the fridge and took out a bottle of cider. " Hm." He took two glasses from a cupboard and brought them to the table.

  " Skarpo," Charlie prompted. "You were saying?"

  " Skarpo lived about five hundred years ago. This portrait is very old." Paton tapped the back of the picture. "He was the kind of sorcerer that Ezekiel Bloor would like to have been, but old Ezekiel could never manage anything like Skarpo."

  "Such as what?" asked Charlie.

  "Better for you not to know." Paton held up the bottle. "Want some cider, dear boy? I'm sure you could do with some." He poured a glass for himself.

  "No, thanks," said Charlie impatiently "Uncle Paton, I think you might tell me a bit more about Skarpo. I mean what's going to happen to me now that he’s' seen me?"

  "I've no idea," said Paton. "Perhaps nothing will happen. And then again, perhaps you can actually make use of his power. There was a lot of it, according to my books. Just be on your guard, Charlie. If you find yourself acting strangely then come and tell me, and we'll try and figure something out."

  This wasn't very reassuring, but Charlie realized it was the best he could hope for. He decided to take a sip of Paton's cider and then another.

  "Feasting in the dark," said Mrs. Bone, turning on the light.

  "Woops!" said Paton, averting his eyes from the lamp. "Watch out, Amy I've already had one accident today."

  "Sorry Paton, I forgot." Mrs. Bone turned off the light and proceeded to make a pot of tea by candlelight.

  Charlie took his mug of tea up to bed. When he left the kitchen Paton was listening, enraptured, as Mrs. Bone described every scene in Divine Drums. Because of his light-exploding problem he hadn't been able to visit a theater since he was a child, and he loved to listen to Amy Bone's animated accounts. She could be a very good storyteller, when she did something out of the ordinary.

  The following afternoon, Charlie and his uncle set off for the Pets' Café. At the end of Filbert Street, they met Benjamin and Runner Bean.

  "Why is your uncle reading a book?" asked Benjamin, as if Paton were not there.

  Charlie's uncle was hardly aware of Benjamin, he was concentrating fiercely on the large book that he held only a few inches from his nose.

  Charlie explained that it was an experiment.

  “Ah," said Benjamin with a knowing smile. "Can me and Runner come, too? You might need extra help."

  The two boys walked on either side of Paton, while Runner Bean loped ahead. It was a chilly gray Sunday and luckily there weren't many people about. Charlie felt slightly embarrassed, walking beside a man with his nose in a large book.

  There was a tricky moment when they reached the traffic lights. Paton was about to walk across a red light, when the boys shouted, "NO!" Paton glanced up startled, and Charlie whispered urgently "Don't look at the lights, Uncle Paton!"

  “Ahem," murmured Paton, stepping back onto the curb.

  "Whew!" breathed Benjamin. "That was close."

  They resumed their journey avoiding traffic lights where they could, and guiding Paton across the busiest roads. At last they found Water Street and, a little further on, a narrow alley with the sign of a frog high on the wall.

  "Doesn't look like a proper sign," Benjamin commented.

  "It must be Frog Street," said Charlie, "because it's next to Water Street." He didn't dare to ask his uncle for advice because there was a lighted window just below the frog sign.

  Runner Bean settled the question. He ran down the alley barking excitedly and the boys had no option but to follow him. It seemed a very unlikely place for a café, but as they walked further from the main road they began to hear the barks, grunts, and screechings of many creatures.

  "Sounds like a zoo," said
Benjamin.

  Runner Bean had disappeared around a bend at the end of the alley and was now barking deliriously Charlie put a hand on his uncle's arm and steered him around the corner.

  And there was the Pets' Café. It appeared to have been built into an ancient wall and filled the entire end of the alley On one side a small green door stood open to the street, and on the other a group of dogs stood barking at Runner Bean through a huge latticed window: Above the window there was a sign filled with paintings of animals. The words THE PETS' CAFÉ could just be made out between twirling tails, paws. whiskers, wings, and claws.

  "This is it," said Charlie, guiding Paton to the door.

  Benjamin grabbed Runner Bean's collar and they all went in.

  The crescendo of animal noises was so loud Charlie could hardly hear his own voice. "I can see a counter right at the back," he shouted to Benjamin.

  Before they could get there, a large man with curly black hair stepped in front of them. He was wearing a long white shirt decorated with elephant heads.

  "Animals?" he said.

  "No," said Charlie. "We're human."

  "I know that," the man said impatiently "Where are your companions? No one's allowed in without an animal, bird, or reptile."

  "Oh." Charlie's face fell.

  "We've got a dog," Benjamin piped up. "He's over there, talking to a labrador."

  "One animal each," said the man. "Otherwise, out!" He pointed to the door.

  Paton was finding it difficult to concentrate on his book. He held it even closer to his face in his efforts to avoid looking at the lights twinkling in the low ceiling. "Ahem," he muttered. And then, in a low voice, "Smells awful. Let's go."

  Charlie was just wondering what to do next when Gabriel appeared, holding a large wooden box. He took two gerbils from the box, handed one to Charlie and popped another in Paton's top pocket.

  . " Er — no," Paton objected, touching a gerbil nose. But it was too late.

  The large man said, "That's better," and ushered them up to the counter. Here they were faced with a difficult choice. All along the counter among plates of ordinary cookies there were bowls of sausages, cakes that smelled of fish, round pellets that could have been chocolate (or might not have been), and seeds of various sizes.

  "I recommend the sausages," said Gabriel. "They're delicious."

  "They look as if they could be for dogs," said Charlie.

  "Probably are," said Gabriel. "They're still delicious. The gerbils love them."

  "Cookies and three waters, please," said Charlie playing safe.

  The man behind the counter said, "If it isn't Charlie Bone."

  Charlie blinked. At last he recognized Mr. Onimous, the mouse-catcher. It was his pointy-toothed smile that gave him away He looked very different in his chef's white hat and apron. The last time Charlie had seen him he'd been wearing a fake-fur coat and a velvet waistcoat.

  "What are you doing here, Mr. Onimous?" Charlie asked.

  "Giving my wife a helping hand," said Mr. Onimous. "It's her café, you know Her idea entirely Good, isn't it?"

  "Brilliant," said Charlie. "But do the flame cats mind all these other visitors? I mean, they live with you, don't they?"

  "The flames?" Mr. Onimous raised his whiskery eyebrows. "They're not often here, bless ' em. Far too busy with their own particular duties. They pop in around midnight for a quick bite and a snooze, and then they're off again. Unless they need me, of course. In which case I have to follow them."

  "I see." Charlie paid for the food. It was very cheap.

  "Good to see you, Charlie," said Mr. Onimous. "You take care, now!"

  "You, too, Mr. Onimous."

  The line behind Charlie was growing, so he took his tray to the table where his friends were sitting. He had to push his way through a crowd of dogs before he could reach the table. Gabriel had chosen a place right beside the window and they were able to watch the strange assortment of customers approaching the café.

  At the table beside them a tarantula crawled around a red straw hat. The woman wearing the hat seemed quite happy about the situation. Now and again she passed tidbits up to the tarantula. Fearing the tidbits were alive, Charlie looked away.

  "What have you got to show us, then?" he asked Gabriel.

  Gabriel pulled a plastic bag from under the table. "Look!" He reached into the bag and drew out an old tweed coat and a battered cap.

  " Asa's disguise!" said Charlie.

  "Exactly I even found the mustache." Gabriel held up a strip of white whiskers. "They were lying in the lane outside our yard. I reckon the wind from the Thunder House blew them there. Asa probably hid them in the woods."

  Charlie shuddered. "You mean it was Asa in the woods. Asa as a . . . whatever he can turn into when it's getting dark?"

  "Does he have to take all his clothes off," asked Benjamin, "before he turns into a beast?"

  Gabriel frowned at him. "This is serious, Benjamin."

  "Sorry I just wondered."

  "Why would Asa go all the way up to the Heights?" murmured Charlie. "Does he live there?"

  "I don't know where he lives," said Gabriel. "But I think he was warning us off. He was trying to make sure we wouldn't go back to the Thunder House."

  "But why?" asked Charlie.

  Gabriel shrugged. "Perhaps it's got something to do with your cousin Henry That evil old man who sent him through time knows he's come back. He's probably furious."

  "Of course," said Charlie. "Ezekiel has ordered Manfred and Asa to find Henry But they know that we'll protect him — you, me, Lysander, and Tancred. So they're trying to split us up, weaken us. Have you told Lysander about the clothes?"

  "Couldn't contact him," said Gabriel. "I'll see him tomorrow."

  At that moment a body flung itself at the window Charlie looked up to see Asa Pike glaring at them through the small glass panes. His lips were drawn back in a horrible snarl, and his yellow eyes darted around the table until he saw the bag of clothes.

  "Mine," he rasped. "Give them here, you wretches!

  His sudden appearance caused an uproar in the café. Terrified birds fluttered, screeching, to the ceiling; dogs threw back their heads and howled; cats hissed and spat; rabbits rushed under tables, and everything else hid behind the large potted plants standing around the room.

  "He's not very popular, is he?" Benjamin said in a shaky voice.

  "Keep reading, Uncle Paton," Charlie warned.

  The café was already in turmoil without his uncle breaking glass. Food was flying everywhere, plates had been smashed, drinks had been spilled, and anxious customers were tripping over frightened animals.

  "Look out," said Gabriel. "Here he comes!"

  Asa crashed through the door and walked straight into the man in the elephant shirt.

  Animal?" said the man, who was evidently a sort of bouncer.

  For a moment Charlie thought Asa was going to say he was an animal, but he just snarled into the man's face.

  "That's it!" said the bouncer. "Out!"

  He grabbed Asa by the scruff of his scrawny neck and thrust him out onto the pavement. Asa whipped around and was about to burst in again, when several large dogs rushed through the open door and set upon him.

  Asa gave a high-pitched yell and ran off around the corner, followed by the pack of baying dogs. If Benjamin hadn't leaped up and grabbed Runner Bean's collar, he would have joined the chase. The big dog was very disappointed to miss the fun and whined monotonously until Mr. Onimous gave him a rainbow-colored bone to chew.

  The Pets' Café was emptying rapidly Several customers had gone racing after their dogs, and the others, having caught and calmed their pets, had decided to leave before things got worse.

  Charlie and his friends stayed to help Mr. Onimous and the bouncer, Norton Cross, clear up the mess.

  "That tall fellow is a bit of a lazy layabout," Norton remarked, glancing at Paton, who was still reading his book.

  "He can have — accidents," said
Charlie awkwardly. "So it's best that he doesn't help."

  "He's special," said Mr. Onimous, winking at Charlie.

  "Oh, no. Not one of them is he? We've got more than our fair share of oddballs in this city," grumbled Norton. "That one the dogs chased — you could tell he was peculiar. Animals always know when something ain't right."

  Mrs. Silk, who had finished her deliveries, came through a door at the back of the counter. She was followed by an extremely tall woman with pale wispy hair and a very long nose. Surprisingly this turned out to be Mrs. Onoria Onimous. She was a gentle, friendly person and seemed to like children almost as much as animals.

  When, at last, the café was restored to order, Mrs. Silk offered the boys a lift back to Filbert Street. “And your father, too," she said, glancing at Paton. "If that is your father."

  "No, I haven't got a . . . no, that's not my father," said Charlie. “And we've got to go somewhere else, thanks all the same."

  "OK, then. ' Bye, boys. Come along, Gabriel." Mrs. Silk made for the door.

  Gabriel reached over and rescued his gerbil from Paton's pocket, who didn't seem to notice. He pulled his other gerbil out of Charlie's pocket. Luckily it had gone to sleep and had only eaten a peppermint stuck to the bottom of the pocket. "See you tomorrow;" said Gabriel. "It should be interesting. I wonder if Asa's been bitten."

  He staggered after his mother with the bag of old clothes under one arm, and his box of gerbils hugged to his chest with the other.

  Charlie tapped his uncle's shoulder and said, "We can go now Uncle Paton."

  Paton stood up, his eyes still glued to the page he was reading. Charlie steered him outside where they found Benjamin clipping a leash to Runner Bean's collar. "Just in case he gets the urge to chase something,” Benjamin explained.

  Their walk to Ingledew's bookshop was relatively easy. No traffic lights had to be navigated, no roads crossed. As they walked around the huge cathedral they could hear the deep toned notes of the organ and Charlie thought of his father. Lyell Bone had been one of the cathedral organists until one foggy night eight years ago, he had gotten into his car and driven over the edge of a quarry He had never been seen again.