The Toyminator

by Robert Rankin

‘It’s this … this sign.’

  ‘Free toy figures.’ Dorothy smiled. ‘Don’t they have free offers in England? These are incredibly popular. They only started a day or so ago, with the clockwork monkey. Everybody’s collecting the figures now, not just kids, but grown-ups. There’s something about them, something—’

  ‘Special?’ said Jack. ‘Something special?’

  ‘Yes, that’s the word. They’re not like ordinary toys.’

  Eddie wriggled gently in the arms of Jack.

  Jack said, ‘This needs thought, much thought.’

  ‘Thought about what?’ Dorothy was steering Jack into the Golden Chicken Diner.

  Jack held back. ‘Let’s go somewhere else,’ he said. ‘In fact, perhaps it would be better if I were to see you later on, this evening or something. I think I should be pressing on with my case.’

  ‘I’m not letting you go that easily.’ Dorothy clung to his arm. ‘At least let a girl buy you a cup of coffee. And I want to hear all about this case of yours.’

  ‘No,’ said Jack. ‘I don’t …’

  But Dorothy tugged at Jack’s arm and Jack let himself be drawn into the Golden Chicken Diner.

  It was within, as without, swathed in chrome and neon. A long chrome counter, behind which at measured intervals were mounted splendid chromium cash resisters, behind which stood personable young women wearing skimpy gold costumes. They sported golden caps and these in turn sported corporate logos: profiled pecking chickens. One of the girls said, ‘How might I serve you, please?’

  ‘Two coffees, please,’ said Dorothy.

  ‘And a large glass of beer,’ said Eddie.

  Dorothy looked up at Jack. ‘How did you do that?’ she asked, and she smiled as she asked it.

  ‘Just a trick,’ said Jack, but in a distracted voice, as he was viewing large posters that hung upon the walls to the rear of the serving counter. These were adorned with dozens of pictures of the special-offer free Toy Town figures. Jack instantly recognised Chief Inspector Bellis, and the cigar shop proprietor, monkeys and musicians, several of the laughing policemen that he had recently fallen foul of, Tinto the clockwork barman and …

  ‘Amelie,’ whispered Eddie.

  ‘Sorry?’ said Dorothy. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Amelie,’ Jack pointed. ‘I know her, she’s my—’

  ‘She’s your what?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Jack. ‘Or rather it does, very much.’

  Eddie set free a dismal growl. For Eddie could see, as indeed could Jack, Eddie’s own picture up there.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ said Jack. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘You are a very strange boy. Ah, here are our coffees.’

  ‘And where’s my beer?’

  Dorothy laughed. ‘That really is very clever.’

  ‘Get him a beer, please,’ said Jack. ‘He needs it and I need one, too.’

  ‘I can’t get beer – I’m underage and so are you. Don’t be so silly.’

  ‘Bad bad meathead world,’ grumbled Eddie.

  ‘Stop it now.’ Dorothy paid for the coffees and carried them to a vacant table. ‘Come on, Jack,’ she called.

  With difficulty Jack tore his eyes away from the colourful posters and carried Eddie to the table. He pulled out a chair and seated the bear upon it.

  ‘Horrible world,’ grumbled Eddie.

  Dorothy looked nervously at Jack. ‘You weren’t touching him when he said that,’ she said.

  ‘Just a trick,’ said Jack.

  ‘I’m not so sure.’ Dorothy gave Eddie a close looking-at. ‘There’s something about this stuffed toy of yours. Something—’

  ‘Special?’ Jack suggested.

  ‘Different,’ said Dorothy. ‘Odd, perhaps.’

  Jack stared into his coffee cup. He recalled his conversation with the cigar proprietor who had told him, ‘I have the special eye and I see trouble lying in wait ahead for you. Trouble that comes in the shape of a chicken,’ and also his conversation with Eddie when they first went to Toy Town and had talked about souls being stolen and all of Toy City being under threat.

  ‘Stealing their souls,’ said Jack. ‘Taking their very essence. And for this?’

  ‘Please tell me what you’re talking about.’ Dorothy looked over at Jack. ‘You’re frightening me.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Jack shook his head. ‘I’d like to tell you, but I can’t. And even if I could, you wouldn’t believe me. You’d think I was mad.’

  ‘This is California,’ said Dorothy. ‘Everyone’s mad here. There was an Englishman like you, well, he was a Scotsman, but I think that’s the same thing. His name was Charles Rennie Mackintosh, and he said that if you turn America on its side, everything that is not screwed down rolls to California.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s very profound,’ said Jack, ‘but it means nothing to me. Is this California? I thought it was Hollywood.’

  ‘It is Hollywood, but Hollywood is part of LA, which is in California. California is a state in America. But why am I telling you this? You know where you are, surely.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘Hold on,’ he said. ‘You said LA.’

  ‘LA,’ said Dorothy. ‘Los Angeles.’

  ‘LA,’ said Jack. ‘TO TO LA. To LA. It was a signpost.’

  ‘I’m more confused than ever.’

  ‘And so am I,’ said Jack.

  ‘You’re coffee’s getting cold.’

  Jack sipped at it.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Dorothy asked.

  ‘It’s fine, thank you.’

  ‘Beer would be better,’ Eddie said. ‘This is a nine-pint problem.’

  ‘You didn’t do that,’ said Dorothy to Jack. ‘You were sipping your coffee when it spoke.’

  ‘I’m not an it,’ said Eddie. ‘I am an Anders Imperial. Cinnamon plush coat—’

  ‘Not now,’ said Jack.

  ‘He speaks by himself.’ And Dorothy’s green eyes grew wide.

  ‘It’s just a trick.’

  ‘It isn’t a trick.’

  ‘All right. It’s a small child in a costume.’

  ‘Oh no it isn’t.’

  ‘Let’s go to a bar,’ said Eddie. ‘There’s bound to be one somewhere that will serve us.’

  ‘It’s speaking by itself, it really is.’

  ‘And I’m not an it! Get rid of her, Jack. We have to press on now, find our other selves, stop them doing what they’re doing and fast.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Jack. ‘This is bad, very bad.’

  ‘It’s alive, Jack! Make it stop!’ And tears sprang into Dorothy’s eyes.

  ‘Listen,’ said Jack, ‘please be calm. I’m sorry.’

  ‘But it’s alive.’

  ‘Will you please stop calling me an it?’

  ‘Make it stop, it’s frightening me.’

  ‘Eddie, please be quiet.’

  Eddie made growling sounds.

  Dorothy rose to flee.

  ‘No,’ said Jack. ‘Please don’t go.’

  ‘Let her go, Jack.’

  ‘No. Please stay.’ Jack rose, took Dorothy gently by the shoulders and sat her back down. ‘I’ll tell you,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you everything. But before I do, you must promise me that you will tell no one what I tell you. And I’m saying this for your own good. Murders have occurred—’

  ‘Then you—’

  ‘Not me. I’m not a murderer. Eddie and I are detectives. We are in pursuit of murderers.’

  ‘That thing is looking at me in a funny way.’

  ‘It’s the only way he knows.’

  ‘Thanks very much,’ said Eddie, and he shifted in his chair, which had Dorothy cowering.

  ‘Please promise me,’ said Jack, ‘and I’ll tell you everything.’

  And Dorothy promised in a shaky voice and Jack then told her everything.

  And when Jack was done there was silence.

  Except for the background restaurant noise of large Californians chowing down on family chicken
-burger meals.

  ‘My head is spinning,’ said Dorothy. ‘But somehow I always knew it. I used to say to my little dog Toto, before he was sadly run over by a truck, somewhere over the rainbow …’

  And Dorothy burst into song.

  Which rather surprised the diners. And rather surprised Jack, too.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ said Dorothy, bursting out of song. ‘I’m rather prone to that.’

  ‘It was very nice,’ said Jack. ‘I liked the bit about the bluebirds.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ said Eddie. ‘Ne’er a hint of a bear.’

  ‘A land of toys,’ said Dorothy.

  ‘Well, a city,’ said Jack. ‘That was once Toy Town.’

  ‘And the toys on the posters—’

  ‘As I said,’ said Jack, ‘some of them are already dead and if we don’t stop these doppelgängers of us, as you can see on the posters, many more folk in Toy City will die. Including Eddie here.’

  ‘At least I seem to get star billing,’ said the bear. ‘I’m the last on the list.’

  Dorothy smiled upon Eddie. ‘He really is quite cute,’ she said. ‘Can I give him a cuddle?’

  ‘You cannot,’ said Eddie Bear. ‘Most undignified.’

  Dorothy smiled once more and shook her head. Her flame-red hair glittered in reflected sunlight. ‘Let me help you,’ Dorothy said. ‘I’m sure I could do something to help.’

  ‘I wouldn’t hear of it,’ said Jack, finishing his coffee. ‘It’s far too dangerous.’

  ‘Because you’re a girl,’ said Eddie. ‘No offence meant.’

  ‘I think you did mean some,’ said Dorothy.

  ‘I think he probably meant plenty,’ said Jack. ‘But in a way he’s right. Eddie and I are used to getting into danger. It’s just about all we ever do. In fact, I can’t imagine how we’ve managed to sit for so long in this restaurant without someone trying to shoot us, stab us, or blow us up.’

  ‘It can’t be danger all the time,’ said Dorothy.

  ‘Not all,’ said Eddie. ‘The danger is relieved periodically by bouts of extreme drunkenness and bad behaviour. So as you can see, it’s no job for a girl. And Jack has a girlfriend anyway.’

  Jack clipped Eddie lightly on the ear.

  And then withdrew his fingers hastily to avoid having them bitten off.

  ‘I could help you,’ Dorothy said. ‘You are strangers here and I know my way around LA. I could be very useful to you.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous,’ said Jack. ‘You could get hurt, badly.’

  ‘I know how to handle myself.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jack, ‘of course you do.’

  ‘Stand up,’ said Dorothy. ‘Try to attack me, see what happens.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Jack.

  ‘I’m serious. Try.’

  ‘Some other time,’ said Jack. ‘Sit down.’

  ‘Chicken,’ said Dorothy.

  ‘Hardly a well-chosen word, considering the circumstances.’

  ‘You’re still a chicken. Cluck! Cluck! Cluck!’ And Dorothy made chicken sounds and did that elbow thing that people do when they impersonate chickens. As they so often do in passionate bedroom situations.*

  ‘You’re making an exhibition of yourself,’ said Jack. ‘You’ll get us thrown out.’

  ‘She’s a stone bonker, this one,’ said Eddie. ‘Give her a little smack, Jack, and make her sit down again.’

  ‘I can’t smack a woman.’

  ‘Let me bite her, then.’

  Dorothy began what is called in theatrical terms a ‘dance improvisation’. Diners looked on briefly, then continued with their chowing down of chicken burgers. Because, after all, this was California.

  ‘Just one little smack then,’ said Jack, ‘and we’ll stop all this nonsense.’

  Jack rose from his chair.

  Dorothy ceased her dance improvisation, extended an arm and with her fingers beckoned Jack nearer.

  Jack sighed, took a step forward and swung a gentle slap in Dorothy’s direction.

  And what happened next seemed to Eddie to happen in slow motion. Dorothy leapt into the air and somersaulted over Jack’s head, turning as she did so to boot him right in the side of the gob.

  It may have seemed like slow motion to Eddie.

  It seemed very fast to Jack.

  And as Jack hit the floor with a thunderous blow …

  Dorothy landed several yards away, right on her feet, light as thistledown.

  Eddie buried his face in his paws. ‘That’s going to hurt in the morning,’ he said. ‘And as this is morning, it will probably be hurting now.’

  ‘Ow, my face.’ And Jack did flounderings about. ‘That wasn’t fair … my face.’

  ‘I’ll get some ice,’ said Dorothy.

  ‘Eddie,’ groaned Jack from his floor-bound repose, ‘Eddie, bite her, please.’

  ‘Not my battle,’ said Eddie.

  ‘But Eddie.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Eddie. ‘Count Otto kicked me over the big top. That really hurt. This woman could kick me all the way to England, wherever that is.’

  Dorothy went and fetched some ice and then she helped Jack up.

  ‘I can get up by myself.’ Jack patted her away.

  ‘I told you I could handle myself.’

  ‘I wasn’t ready,’ said Jack.

  ‘Well, if you’re ready now you can take another shot. I’ll close my eyes if you want.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Eddie. ‘You might strike lucky.’

  Jack sat down in a right old huff. Dorothy offered him ice in a serviette. Jack took this and held it to his jaw.

  ‘It’s call Dimac,’ Dorothy explained. ‘The deadliest martial art on Earth. My hands and feet are registered with the police as lethal weapons – I have to have a special licence for them.’

  ‘Dimac?’ said Jack.

  ‘I sent away for a course. A dollar ninety-eight a lesson, from Count Dante – he’s the Deadliest Man on Earth, obviously.’

  ‘Obviously,’ said Jack. And he clicked his jaw.

  ‘So do I get the job?’

  Jack sighed and almost shook his head.

  ‘I know my way around,’ said Dorothy. ‘And I could come in very useful if anyone menaces you or Eddie.’

  ‘Well,’ said Jack. And then he said, ‘Why? Why would you want to help us?’

  ‘Why?’ said Dorothy. ‘Why? You have to be joking.’

  ‘Jack’s not very good on jokes,’ said Eddie.’ Actually, as a comedy sidekick he’s pretty useless. But it is a valid question. You want to be an actress, don’t you? Why would you want to get involved with us?’

  ‘How can you ask me that? You are a talking toy bear. Jack says that you and he came here from somewhere over the rainbow. I believe in fate. Our paths haven’t crossed by accident – destiny led you to me.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Eddie, and if he had been able to roll his eyes he would have done so.

  ‘And there’s definitely a movie in this,’ said Dorothy. ‘I might eschew acting in favour of a role as producer.’

  ‘Hm,’ went Jack.

  ‘Hm?’ went Dorothy.

  ‘Ignore him,’ said Eddie. ‘He’s had woman trouble. The love of his life left him. I suspect that his “hm” represented something along the lines that your unexpected evolution from the wide-eyed innocent on Hollywood Boulevard to lean, mean killing machine with pretensions to movie moguldom within the space of a short half-hour is somewhat disconcerting for him.’

  ‘You’re a most articulate little bear,’ said Dorothy.

  ‘And most democratic,’ said Eddie. ‘I hold no prejudice. I bite man or woman alike if I consider that they are patronising me.’

  ‘That flight of yours over the big top,’ said Dorothy. Suggestively. ‘I overheard that.’

  ‘I’ll get you when you’re sleeping,’ said Eddie.

  ‘Stop it, please,’ said Jack. ‘All right, Dorothy, I am impressed. If you want to help us, it would be appreciated.’

  ‘Not
by me,’ said Eddie. ‘We’re a team, Jack. A partnership, you and me, Jack and Eddie, bestest friends through thick and thin.’

  ‘This won’t affect our partnership.’

  ‘Yes it will. It will lead to a romantic involvement and then there’ll be all the drippy smoochy stuff and that will interfere with the action and the car chases.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ said Jack, although unconvincingly. The thought of indulging in some drippy smoochy stuff with Dorothy had indeed crossed his mind. As indeed had some of that get down, get naked and get dirty kind of stuff. ‘She can help us, Eddie,’ said Jack. ‘And we need all the help we can get.’

  ‘We were doing fine on our own. What happened to your inspired calculating stuff? It was you who calculated that the murderers would strike next at the Opera House, remember?’

  ‘Ah,’ said Jack, who in all the excitement and everything else had quite forgotten about Wallah the calculating pocket. ‘About that.’

  ‘We’ll manage on our own,’ said Eddie. ‘Thank you for your offer, Dorothy, but you’ll only get Jack all confused and he won’t be able to keep his mind on the job.’

  ‘Listen,’ said Jack, wringing out his serviette ice pack into his empty coffee cup and shaking his fingers about, ‘I’m up for you helping us, Dorothy, but I have to go to the toilet now. Eddie and I are a partnership, and it’s a fifty-fifty partnership. If Eddie says no then I have to respect his decision, even if I don’t agree with it. But I am going to the toilet, so please speak to him. I’m sure you can win him over.’ And Jack winked at Dorothy.

  It was an intimate kind of a wink and if Eddie had seen it he would have recognised it to be the kind of wink that meant, ‘I would love you to help us and I’m certain that a beautiful, intelligent woman such as yourself can soon win over a stroppy toy bear.’ And if Eddie had seen it and had recognised it, Jack would have received such a biting from Eddie that if Jack had owned a bicycle he would not have been able to ride it again for at least a week.

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ Jack said. ‘Which way is the toilet?’

  ‘Over there,’ said Dorothy.

  And Jack went off to the toilet.

  And went into one of the stalls and locked the stall door behind him. And Jack withdrew Wallah from his trenchcoat and gave her a little stroke.

  Wallah gave a little yawn and made a sensual purring sound.

  ‘I’m sorry not to have spoken with you for a while,’ said Jack. ‘As you are probably aware, things have been a little hectic of late.’