by Brett Lee
‘That cricket ball, Toby, is your protection as a Cricket Lord.’
‘I ran into myself,’ I said. I bent down to retrieve the ball and noticed that I could now see my arm again. I looked down to check that my body and legs were also clearly visible.
‘Yes, and because you are now a Cricket Lord, there were also no unfortunate consequences.’
‘But what about when I was here before? How come I didn’t sense or see the later me?’
Jim sighed. ‘Because you are different, Toby,’ he said, finally.
‘You mean different as in three hours older?’
‘No, I mean different. You have taken on powers that your former self could not have seen. But listen, you need to return.’ He glanced up at the enormous scoreboard.
‘What’s going to happen?’ I asked.
The umpires were now walking towards the far set of stumps. From high above us came a creaking, groaning sound. Another ‘0’ was being put up on the scoreboard.
‘As long as I am here all will be well,’ Jim said.
‘But you can’t stay here forever, Jim.’ I couldn’t imagine leaving him in this cold, desolate place.
‘For the good of cricket, Toby, I can stay here forever.’
‘C’mon, Toby,’ Jay muttered, pulling on my sleeve. ‘You heard him. Let’s get out of here.’
‘Jim, will Father Time stay up there?’ I braved another glance up at the scoreboard, wondering about the being working the numbers inside it. Was he a man? Could he see us now?
‘Father Time has been stripped of all his powers. But now that the game is stopping he’s becoming a threat again. It was once thought that one of the Grubbers here was his younger sibling, who unlike the rest of the Grubbers remained loyal to him. But years and years have passed and nothing has changed.’
‘Until now.’ I turned again to look out over the ground. No one appeared to have moved since I last looked.
‘You must leave now!’ Jim ordered.
‘I know,’ I muttered. There was not a Grubber in sight. The stands around the ground were empty. Dark clouds rushed across the sky and I could feel drops of rain. Beside me, Jay was shivering.
‘Toby, take this and return to the MCC library.’
Jim had taken the scorecard from his pocket. Jay whistled softly. It was the ticket that enabled anyone to travel back in time. All they had to do was place it inside a Wisden; any Wisden. ‘Find David and ask him for the first edition of Wisden. Toby, are you listening?’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said. I refused to believe that this was the end, yet there was something very final in Jim’s voice.
‘Father Time requires only three things to restore himself to the way he used to be. Two of these items we can destroy now.’
‘The first Wisden and the scorecard?’ I asked.
‘Yes. Placing the scorecard anywhere inside the first Wisden restores time for the person holding the card. Of course, if the scorecard is destroyed, so too is any chance that it might save us from Father Time.’
I was finding it hard to follow Jim. ‘What’s the other thing?’
Jim looked at me, as if weighing up whether he wanted to tell me. Finally he spoke. ‘A Cricket Lord. This is why it is imperative that you return and remove yourself from his clutches.’
‘But you’re a Cricket Lord too. If you come back as well then he’ll never get all three things.’
‘He needs to be stopped, Toby. He will come after you, or me, and he will not give up. Ever.’
‘HELP!’ a voice called to our left. We all froze. ‘TOBY!’
‘That’s Georgie,’ I cried, sprinting towards the scoreboard.
‘Toby,’ Jim called. ‘Wait!’ I slowed as he and Jay caught up to me.
‘That was Georgie. I’m sure of it,’ I said, my heart pounding.
‘She’s been missing most of the day,’ Jay added.
‘And she came onto the oval,’ I added.
‘Georgie walked onto the oval?’ Jim gasped. He looked anxiously up at the scoreboard.
‘What’s happened to her?’
Jim glanced at me quickly.
‘A Grubber, but she is fighting. She must have seen you.’ I scanned the board but could see nothing. There were three square holes but nothing moved behind them.
‘I’m going up,’ I said. ‘We can’t just leave her there.’
‘Jay, go back to the ground. Wait over there by the gate. You must keep the game going. As long as there is one person watching, the game must go on.’
‘But hang on. You can’t leave me out here…’ he protested.
‘Jay,’ Jim said, firmly. ‘Do as I say.’ Jay muttered something under his breath and stalked off to the other side of the ground.
9
Into the Scoreboard
Saturday—evening
‘Stay behind me and don’t speak,’ Jim said, as we marched up the incline towards a metal ladder.
‘I’ll follow…’
‘Toby, do not enter the scoreboard. That is an order.’
I waited at the bottom watching Jim slowly and carefully make his way up the rusty metal rungs. He paused at the top, took something from his pocket and held it up to the door. There was a click and a small trap door swung open wide. A cloud of white dust billowed from the entrance.
Jim turned once, waved, then quickly disappeared into the scoreboard. I turned at the sound of clapping on the field. The players and umpires appeared to be taking up their positions again.
I waited for a few minutes. No sound came from inside the score box. Taking a last look around, I put one foot on the first step of the ladder.
From above came a sudden crashing sound. It sounded like something heavy falling.
‘Jim, are you okay?’ I called up, then spun around, startled by a noise to my right. Two Grubbers were swooping in towards me. Perhaps they had heard the commotion as well. I took a few paces back but they didn’t appear to notice me, as they approached the stairs. What was happening in there? Was Jim in trouble? They flew up the steps, barely touching the rungs, and disappeared into the gloom. I waited a few seconds then followed them.
The interior of the scoreboard was dark and smelled old and stale. There must have been at least three levels.
‘Jim?’ I whispered. I could hear nothing but the faint sound of footsteps moving away from the entrance. Behind me it looked like play was about to resume. Was that because of the three of us being here?
I was in a dark, dusty chamber. Huge black wooden boards were lying about the place, some covered in white names. The air was thick with chalk dust. I crept slowly along the left edge, a shaft of light from the only opening guiding me to the opposite side of the chamber and another ladder, smaller than the first, attached to the side wall.
Again I paused, listening for the slightest sound. I could hear shuffling footsteps on the floor above, or perhaps even two levels up. I stepped onto the ladder. Someone was talking.
‘Jim?’ I called softly, taking another few steps up the ladder. Something or someone crashed against a wall. The whole scoreboard shook. Shocked, one of my hands slipped and I swung out on the ladder, crashing against the side wall. Regaining my balance, I swung back and clambered up the final steps.
The room I stood in was almost empty, like the one below. This level was lighter, with more openings out onto the ground. On one side of the room was an old chair and table. A massive scorebook lay open on the table, covering most of its top. Littered about the room were black wooden squares, numbered on both sides. There were lots of 1s covering the wall to my right; which meant that zeroes were visible on the other side.
‘Get out!’ a voice screamed from the level above. Jim? Was he talking to me? I ran across the room and climbed the final flight of stairs.
‘Georgie!’ I yelled. Georgie stood with her back to the wall; her face was white, and her eyes were bulging. Beyond her, two Grubbers were dragging Jim towards a long, rectangular opening. There was no sign
of anyone else. Maybe Father Time wasn’t here. Jim had been lifted off his feet and was being moved towards the opening.
‘No!’ I yelled, grabbing my cricket ball and hurling it as hard as I could at the nearest Grubber. I remembered the words. A stench filled the air suddenly as the Grubber stumbled and fell, but the other had a tight hold on Jim and was shoving him through the opening.
‘Let go!’ I screamed, rushing forward to pick up the ball. The first Grubber was still lying on the ground, his body twisted and curled in pain. I took hold of Jim’s shoulder, desperately trying to pull him back.
‘Georgie! Please help!’ I yelled, glancing at her briefly. She hadn’t moved. It looked as if she hadn’t heard me. Feeling my hold on Jim slipping, I lobbed the ball weakly at the other Grubber, muttering the words as it caught him on the shoulder.
Jim’s head and shoulders were protruding through the gap. His body jerked and slid further forwards as the Grubber opposite me briefly released him. The stench of burning was overbearing.
‘Hang on, Jim,’ I breathed, slowly hauling him back into the chamber. We collapsed onto the dusty floor. But as I reached out to pick up the ball, I felt a cold hand press down hard on my arm. The second Grubber leaned over me, a sickly grin on his face. A thin trail of brown smoke drifted into the air from where the ball had caught him, but the force of my throw hadn’t been strong enough.
His face moved in closer and I knew that if I didn’t do something quickly I would be overcome like Georgie and Freddy had been. Reaching out, my fingers stretched taut, I got a fingernail onto the seam of the ball, just managing to roll it backwards.
As the Grubber pressed his face into mine, I rammed the ball in front of his nose, pushing it upwards. There was a loud grinding noise and a stream of putrid liquid steamed over me as he screamed, jerking and writhing in agony. I could hear his raspy breath and feel the jagged, pointy bones of his rib cage pressing into me. He was somewhere between spirit and body; his flesh was rotten and stinking. He was older than any living thing should be, somehow being kept alive by the mean spirit that dwelled inside him.
His face was just centimetres from mine and I watched in horror as his old, wrinkled skin suddenly shrank, twisting and screwing his face into a pinched scowl. His hair was changing colour from grey to white and falling out in clumps. A tooth fell from somewhere, then another one. I squeezed my eyes shut so I didn’t have to look into his gummy, foulsmelling mouth.
Kicking out with as much force as I could, I rolled away from beneath the Grubber, struggling hard not to vomit.
‘Get out of here,’ Jim called harshly.
‘Is Georgie okay?’
‘Who?’ Jim lay slumped against the side wall, his head resting on his shoulder. There was still no sign of Father Time. Perhaps the fight had taken its toll. ‘Jim, where’s Father Time?’ Jim looked up slowly. ‘Jim, are you all right?’ He nodded absently.
‘Father Time,’ he said, finally. ‘He has been dealt with. Go now.’
‘Were they Grubbers?’ The two beings lay shrivelled and curled on the dusty wooden floor. I’d thought Grubbers were spirits. How had they been able to manhandle Jim? Maybe there were different types of Grubbers—spirits that could possess people and ones with a physical form.
‘They are bodily guards. They were called to guard Father Time. He obviously recruited some of the Grubbers and was able to maintain their physical form in some way. But go now, before they build up their strength again.’
‘But what about you, Jim? Won’t they try and attack you again?’
‘Toby, when you have gone I will deal with them. But not in front of your eyes.’
‘Do I still have to destroy the scorecard and the first Wisden?’ I wasn’t sure that Jim had heard me. Still holding the ball, I turned to face Georgie. She was rooted to the spot, staring absently at the scene in front of her. ‘It’s okay, Georgie,’ I said, drawing my arm back. ‘This doesn’t hurt at all.’
Closing my eyes, I shouted, ‘You’ve been caught out’; then threw the ball firmly at Georgie’s left leg. She buckled over, her face momentarily twisted in agony, then slowly slumped to the floor. ‘Georgie?’ I said, rushing over to her and helping her sit up. ‘Speak to me?’ I turned her head towards me, searching her eyes for some sign of recognition, but she stared back at me blankly.
‘Jim, it didn’t work!’ I screamed, turning on him. Jim raised a wavering arm and pointed at the square boards.
‘Score,’ he gasped, then closed his eyes. ‘Quickly.’ His voice was raspy and faint. I understood straight away what he meant. Hurling myself down the ladder, I got to the middle level then rushed over to a window. The umpire was signalling something, his arm outstretched.
‘No ball,’ I muttered, desperately searching for the extras sign. Sticking my head outside one of the open windows, I glanced back at the front of the board. I finally found it beneath the total score.
‘Here!’ I called out, drawing aside a small wooden peg. I pulled back the wooden number displayed. It was a 4. I flipped it over and slammed the board back into its spot, pushing it flat, then pushed the peg back to keep it in place.
‘Well done,’ Jim said, slowly making his way down the stairs.
‘What about Georgie?’
Jim lifted his head. ‘Go and collect the first Wisden and the scorecard, Toby. Hide it away somewhere that only you know about. I can help Georgie; she’s safe here with me.’
‘But you said they had to be destroyed.’ For a moment Jim looked at me blankly. His right eye was twitching. I’d never seen that happen before.
‘Please!’ he whispered. His face was grey and streaked with sweat and his eyes looked distant; empty. I leaned closer, trying to catch the words he was saying.
‘In…scorecard…first Wisden. Save you…first Wisden…’
Then suddenly his head lolled back and he fell to the floor. For ten minutes I cradled his head in my lap, whispering his name, tears streaming down my face. Slowly his breathing became more regular as his body relaxed.
I tried to make him comfortable but the movement stirred him.
‘Jim, what happened? Are you okay?’ I scanned his face, desperately hoping for a smile that would make everything all right again.
‘Toby.’ His voice was dry and hoarse. Slowly he got to his feet. ‘Go now.’
‘Why?’
‘Go!’ he roared, turning on me. I flinched, taking a step backwards. He took a deep breath. ‘Toby, I am sorry. Please, just do as I say.’ Perhaps the short battle with Father Time had affected Jim in some way.
‘How did you defeat him?’ I couldn’t believe that it had all happened so quickly. We both glanced through a long window, hearing the sound of ball hitting bat.
‘It is done. I will look after the scoring here and Georgie too.’
‘You were stronger than Father Time?’ I persisted, wanting to find out what had happened. Jim took out a zero and replaced it with a two.
‘He was much weakened because of his time in this wretched place,’ Jim said, pushing home the number. He walked to the table where the large scorebook was and made an adjustment.
‘David won’t like me borrowing the first Wisden. You know how much he treasures that copy.’
‘Who?’ Jim was looking out through one of the windows at the game below.
‘David, the librarian. You know.’ Jim had become very vague.
‘Well, you’re going to have to do what you have to do. Your friend Georgie needs that Wisden, Toby.’
‘Will the Grubbers return to the game now?’
‘I believe they will. The ones you have hit with your cricket ball will at least ensure that the Timeless Cricket Match will continue in the short term.’ There was a shout from the field. ‘More runs, Toby. Off you go.’
I took a last glance at Jim and moved quickly to the stairs.
Jay hadn’t moved from his spot in front of the small stand on the far side of the ground. I noticed a few Grubbers watching f
rom the hill further on.
‘Geez, you took your time,’ he snapped, jumping up.
‘Yeah, well I just happened to save Jim from being shoved out of the top floor of the scoreboard,’ I muttered, grabbing him by the arm. I spoke the two lines and suddenly the numbing cold was lifted as we vanished from the Timeless Cricket Match.
10
Eavesdropping
Saturday—evening
I left Jay down in the library to explain to Ally and Rahul about Georgie while I went off to grab something to eat and find Jimbo. Ally would have to do some fast talking to explain Georgie’s absence to her mum.
‘Welcome back to the land of the living,’ Jimbo said, patting me on the back when I returned to the corporate box he and I were sleeping in during the cricket camp. Tonight would be our last night.
‘You don’t know how true that comment is.’
‘You’ve been to the Timeless Cricket Match?’
‘Yup.’ I told him about the scoreboard and Jim defeating Father Time.
‘Just like that?’ he asked, surprised.
‘Well, yeah. I guess I was a bit amazed at how quickly it happened too. Jim said that Father Time wasn’t his former self. He’d been up in that dusty scoreboard for years and years and had lost his strength.’
‘I didn’t think ghosts and immortals could lose their strength,’ Jimbo said, closing his cricket magazine and walking over to the small fridge to grab a drink. I looked up sharply.
‘What do you mean, immortals? What do you know about Father Time?’
Jimbo unscrewed the top of his drink bottle and took a swig. ‘David rocked up about half an hour ago. He’d got a call from Ally.’
‘Oh, is he still here now?’ I asked, pulling out my phone.
‘Yeah, he will be. He said he was going to wait for them or you to return. Anyway, I think Jim’s told him quite a bit about Father Time and stuff.’
‘Like?’
‘Well, David didn’t tell me much. He just said that…’ Jimbo paused, then looked at me nervously. He’d said too much.
‘What, Jimbo? You can tell me.’