by Hugh Macnab
his father really felt about him and he understood his previous feelings drawn from veiled comments and innuendo over the years. Nothing too blatant, always carefully veiled and disguised. Now, with this new understanding, his father’s duplicity and false pretence hurt even more. That was when the box went on the shelf, and he determined to run away from home as soon as he could. He hadn’t looked in the box since, nor had he seen his parents – nor, sadly, had he missed them.
Shylock shivered and looked to the ground, or at least to where the ground should have been.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Bb, sensing his companion’s distress and wanting to pick him up. ‘Tell me, tell me do.’
Shylock said nothing, apparently preferring to rub one fore-hoof up and down the other.
‘Don’t worry,’ coaxed Bb, mistaking the reason for Shylock’s silence. This is the person who is most likely to be able to help you. Cheer up.’
Shylock could hear his father’s voice…spineless wonder, afraid of your shadow, weak-kneed. How many times over the years had he listened to the many descriptions of his pusillanimous self? He wondered if on some way the constant undermining of his father’s comments caused him to attract similar remarks from others around him. Even his best friends always seemed to be able to find new ways of making him feel small and pathetic. Just because he didn’t want to be a soldier. Timorous, faint-hearted…they’d used them all – many times. If only…
‘Shylock!’ Bb, interrupted. ‘Hello, is there anyone in there?’ he asked, tapping lightly on his horn.
Shylock dragged his head upwards until he became aware of Bb’s presence and with an effort, refocused his mind on the present.
Bb was talking. ‘Before I leave you, there are a few things I should tell you about Change. Firstly, when time stopped, everyone…’
‘When time stopped?’ interrupted Shylock, confused.
‘Yes, well…that’s another story. Let’s just skip that one for the time being – oops! Sorry, didn’t mean that one. Anyway, as I was saying…when time stopped, and Infinity retired…’
Shylock groaned.
‘…not only did we no longer have a need for change, but he was positively unhelpful. For once we had a peaceful existence, but could he accept that. Oh, no! He had to go trying to change our opinion. We thought of letting him do this a couple of times to frustrate him, but decided against it. His defence attorney tried to use the fact that not only was it Change’s job to make change happen, but that he’d been doing it so long that it had become second nature (which upset second nature, who happened to be at the hearing that day and felt somehow incriminated) to change everything, and that therefore he was not guilty of anything other than being a conscientious and dedicated worker.
‘Did the Judge accept the argument?’ asked Shylock.
‘Judge! We didn’t have one of those – just a prosecutor. We only barely agreed that he should have a defence attorney. Didn’t seem much point as he was already so obviously guilty.’
‘Isn’t he supposed to be found guilty after the trial?’ asked Shylock, confused.
‘Nope! answered Bb. ‘We wanted him locked up so he would stop changing things. Anyway, as it turned out for him, his defence attorney did a bang-up job and instead of being found guilty, he was declared redundant.’
‘So, how did he get in here?’ asked Shylock, indicating the glass sphere.
‘That’s easy,’ replied Bb. ‘Although we declared him redundant, we all knew he was guilty, so we locked him up anyway?’
Now really confused, Shylock decided against further questions, instead asking Bb if he had anything else to explain about Change. Bb picked up his thread.
‘Only that he’s not allowed out of the sphere, and therefore no-one will see him, hear him, smell him or be in contact with him in any way what so ever. So I’ve brought you to him, but what you do next is your problem. Even though you can’t see him or talk to him – he is in there,’ Bb assured, indicating the milky white globe in front of him. And after how long he’s been in there I’m sure you’ll be relieved not to be able to smell him. It’s the best I could do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a beach to tend.’
‘But how do I get back from here?’ Shylock asked, suddenly aware of Bb’s intention to abandon him.
‘Oh, you’ll manage somehow,’ Bb said, reassuringly. ‘Somehow.’
‘Hmm mm,’ said Shylock, thinking quickly on his feet. ‘You’re right. I’ll get out of here somehow. Don’t worry about me dear friend. I’ll manage somehow.’
Bb’s one eyebrow frowned. ‘Well, at least your hearing has improved. That’s exactly what I said.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Shylock. ‘It should be easy. All I have to do is find Constance.
‘Constance?’ Bb squawked. ‘You want to find Constance?’
‘Yes,’ said shylock. ‘I need to explain that I’m not from around these parts, and if I’m not careful I’ll start changing things and he wouldn’t want that. So, I’ll explain, if he could just help me get out of your shop, I’d really be most grateful. I’m sure he’ll be glad to help me, don’t you think?’
‘Oh, no, no, no. You wouldn’t do that would you?’ Bb pleaded. ‘Surely not. Oh, no. You wouldn’t really, would you?’
Shylock didn’t reply. Instead, ignoring the confused expression of panic on Bb’s face, he turned back to face Change’s snow dome. Actually, all expressions on Bb’s face were confusing – some more than others, and this was one of them. Apparently if required to display more than one emotion at a time, the various expressions created a continuously transmuting countenance – everything moving simultaneously!
It was as he contemplated the opaque rotunda that the unbidden words came into his mind. ‘Why not open the door?’
He turned to Bb, who at last snapped out of his continuously-altering-visage problem. ‘You’ve explained that Change is not allowed out, but what if I went inside?’ he asked.
Bb had once more become very nervous. His lower incisors were piercing the inside of his nostrils and worry-wrinkles ran in deep furrows across his brow, racing one another helter-skelter fashion. Shylock could feel for him. Not only was he already in trouble with his superior, but with every thing that now happened he was getting in deeper and deeper. Never the less, this wasn’t a time to be considerate of others, and Shylock knew it. Pushing any feelings of sympathy to the side, he repeated his question – pressing for an answer.
‘Well,’ replied Bb, hesitantly. ‘I don’t recall there being anything actually said at the trial about visitors going in to see him. So, I suppose it would be okay. However, even although there is a door…we don’t have the key…and we’ll never get it because…because…’ he paused, suddenly brightening. ‘It’s lost! Yes, that’s it. It’s lost.’
‘Bb,’ Shylock cautioned. ‘You’re telling porkies again, aren’t you?’
‘Mmeee?’ he exclaimed, pointing a short pudgy finger towards his barrel-chest.
Shylock stepped forward and gently, but firmly, prodded his horn into Bb’s overflowing pot-belly. ‘Yes, you!’ he underlined.
‘This is not good,’ BB muttered. ‘Not good at all.’
‘The key,’ Shylock repeated.
‘Yes, yes. I know. Give me a moment,’ Bb replied, rummaging in his various pockets. ‘I don’t suppose you have a small coin? Do you?’
Shylock fought the urge to ask why, suspecting that the answer would simply lead to another long-winded monologue, none of which he would understand. Instead, went to put a hand in his pocket only to scuff a hoof in mid-air instead.
‘Don’t tell me, I see the problem,’ said Bb, waving his hand in the air. ‘Allow me.’
Wings, hooves and horn disappeared leaving Shylock in his familiar form including his most favourite and comfortable gabardines. Thanking Bb grudgingly, he reached into a pocket and unexpectedly pulled out a single small silver coin and examined it. There, boldly stamped in the centre, were the words LOOSE CHANGE. Puzzled at the presence o
f the unfamiliar coin, he handed it to Bb. ‘Would this do?’
‘Perfect,’ said Bb, accepting the coin. ‘Now, either we turn the dome upside down, or we turn ourselves upside down….and seeing how Change would likely be upset if he were to be upended, I suggest we upturn ourselves.’
Before Shylock could say anything Bb had flipped them both and he was now looking directly at the brass bottom of Change’s imposed gaol as Bb searched the apparently perfectly smooth surface for the lock.
‘Now, the slot should be up here on the bottom somewhere,’ Bb murmured. ‘Ah, yes! Here it is. Just as I thought.’ Taking Shylock’s silver piece, Bb placed it into a carefully concealed slot in the bottom of the sphere, turned it through ninety degrees and gently prised the hidden doorway open, accidentally dropping the coin into the glass hemisphere
Suddenly, before the coin had even finished it’s fall, they were both surprised by an ear-shattering roar as a rush of air and snow exploded from the newly opened doorway, like soda-pop from a shaken bottle, hurling the cover way-off into the ether and setting Bb spinning away into the distance head over….well, without feet he would just have to be spinning.
As Bb disappeared in the snow, Shylock caught a glimpse of his face reflected in the glass wall of the dome. He was laughing.
Furious as the explosion and subsequent storm had been, it very quickly tired itself out until Shylock could see Bb coming back towards him with his head