“Edward Archer! He’s in there with my Dad. We have to do something!”
“I don’t know Violet,” Boy said desperately, “I can’t think. It must be the stuff George used to knock me out. My head’s cloudy.”
“Please Boy. We have to get him out.”
“Look, can we get out of here? Just for a bit. If we get some rest we’ll be able to think and come up with a plan. If we rush in now we’ll get caught.”
“No!” Violet snapped a little too loudly.
“Come on. Your Dad’s been there a while, a little longer won’t do any harm. If we go in without a plan we’ll get caught and then who’s going to rescue any of us?”
“No Boy. We have to do something now,” Violet demanded.
“Violet please be quiet. Edward Archer’s just in there.”
“You don’t want me to get my Dad. That’s what wrong with you. Just ‘cause you have no parents…”
“What did you say?”
Violet turned her back on her friend. Boy remained under the sill for a minute then without speaking, crawled down the garden and out onto the road. Violet didn’t look around. She didn’t need Boy. She was fine on her own. Shakily she made her way round the side of the house.
It was weird without him, scarier, but she had to forget her fear. Her Dad needed her. She walked to the back garden and looked at the windows. They all had glass, that plan was a no go. She tiptoed to the other side of the house. There was a narrow pathway separating this home from its neighbours.
The path was pitch black. She felt her way by the wall and about halfway down she came across a door. There was a faint sound over her shoulder. She looked round but couldn’t see anything in the darkness. She was about to grab the handle when she froze. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.
“Well look what I caught,” a Watcher whispered into her ear.
Violet turned quickly, her heart pounding. His arms rested either side of the doorway blocking her escape. She tried to dash under one but the Watcher was too quick and grabbed her shirt pulling her out onto the path.
“Well won’t I be Mr. Edward’s favourite,” he laughed, shining a torch directly into her eyes.
She kicked and wriggled but couldn’t get free.
“DUCK” somebody suddenly yelled.
It was Boy. Violet quickly ducked down as a large rock whizzed past landing smack on the bridge of the Watcher’s nose. He fell to the ground roaring in pain. Boy grabbed Violet’s hand and they raced down the front garden.
As they reached the park Watchers were emerging from everywhere to give chase. The pair were sprinting through the sleeping plants when Violet tumbled roughly to the ground. One of the creatures had wrapped itself round her leg. Boy tried to pull his friend free but the eyeball wouldn’t let go. The Watchers were almost upon them when he grabbed the stem and ripped. Blood gushed out from the severed vein in all directions. Quickly Boy shoved the plant into his pocket and helped Violet from the grass.
Suddenly a terrifying noise cut through the night like a thousand wailing cats. The once sleeping flowers pulled back their petals and shrieked into the mist. Shaking in a manic frenzy they threw themselves at Boy and Violet as they raced passed. Barely escaping the park, the pair dashed by a large billboard of a happy family marking the entrance to the Ghost Estate. They were now in a world of narrow streets, the Watchers just behind.
“Where are we?” Violet panted.
“We’re in No Mans Land,” Boy said, as they raced down a laneway, “it’s the furthest edges.”
“Do you know where you’re going?” Violet asked breathless as they shot down another alley, the Watchers still on their tail.
“No!”
Suddenly she caught sight of a street sign. Wickham Terrace; she knew the name but from where?
“Down here,” she said.
The Watchers feet pounded just behind the last bend. There was an old shop sign hanging out on the street: “Prescription Optical Makers.”
“In here,” Violet said, forcing open the door.
They closed it gently and rested with their backs to the worn wood as the Watchers darted by outside oblivious to their hiding place.
“Where are we?” Boy whispered.
“I’m not sure,” Violet shrugged, just as a light lit up the shop.
“Who goes there?” someone said from the shadows.
“We don’t mean you any harm,” Violet insisted, “we were being chased and…”
“Where did you get those?” the man croaked, his voice was dusty as if it hadn’t been used in while.
Violet looked at Boy who shrugged.
“Answer me!” the man snapped.
“Where did I get what?” Violet replied, her voice now shaky too.
“Your glasses, where did you get them?”
“I found them.”
“Don’t lie to me girl. Where did you get them?”
“I found them, I promise. They were under my mattress. Here you can have them,” she said, taking the frames from her face and walking with her arm outstretched.
The man moved forward and grabbed the glasses from her grasp.
“How did they get under your mattress?” he said, stepping out from the shadows, “I think you’re telling fibs little girl. The last time I saw these they were in the hands of my brother.”
“You’re…you’re…you’re William Archer,” Violet stammered.
Boy looked at his friend as if she had ten heads.
“And you are?” the man continued.
“Violet, Violet Brown,” she stuttered, “and this is my friend Boy.”
CHAPTER 21
William Archer
William Archer was a tall man though not as tall as George, he was also a wide man though not as wide as Edward and this combination meant he was completely in proportion. He was unkempt, dirty and looked like he’d spent a thousand years in his clothes. His hair was long and streaked in tones of grey. His beard was long too and he wore both beard and hair wrapped like a scarf round his neck. He had a kind face and as he emerged from the shadows it was almost impossible not to stare at his eyes. One was dark almost black while the other was a cold blue like an icy winter’s morning. Violet’s Dad had told her that some people were born with different coloured eyes but William was the first one she’d met.
A cluttered table rested by the front window and William cleared it off before calling over the pair. Violet sat down on one side and Boy on the other. The window was caked in dirt, which was safer, surely the Watchers couldn’t see in.
“Excuse the mess,” William Archer coughed, “I haven’t had guests in a while”.
“It’s fine,” Violet replied in her polite voice, “it’s just like my room.”
William smiled uncomfortably, he didn’t seem used to the company of children or maybe it was the company of anyone at all.
“Have you lived here long?” Violet asked, breaking an awkward silence.
Boy stared in shock at his friend and frantically gestured towards the door.
“It’s okay Boy. He’s not like his brothers.”
Her friend’s eyes fell towards the table avoiding William and his cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
“And how do you know I’m not like my brothers?” William asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.
“Because I saw your message under my desk at school and because I met your Mam. She said you were a good son.”
“She did?” William said, his eyes glassing over, “how is Iris, is she well?”
“I think so, I only met her for a minute though.”
“I’ve been here so long,” William whispered, as if to himself, “I’m not sure I remember what she looks like anymore.”
“Everyone remembers what their Mam looks like no matter how long they’ve been away. She’s your Mam,” Violet replied.
She glanced across at Boy then quickly down at her hands avoiding his eyes.
“You’re a wise one for someon
e your age!” William Archer laughed.
The gentle sound filled the faded shop and Violet knew immediately, though she’d kind of known it already, that she liked William Archer. Boy seemed to know it too. His stiff upright posture softened with the laughter.
“So,” William said running his fingers over the frames in his hands, “how did you find my glasses?”
“Oh,” Violet shouted suddenly jumping up, “I’m not wearing any glasses! I can see! I’m not blind!”
William laughed again, this time his laughter was big and full and it seemed to shake the shop. The deep-bellied sound was infectious and suddenly Boy and Violet found themselves laughing too.
“So you’re from Perfect,” he smiled, regaining a little control.
“No I’m not!” Violet snapped, “I lived there for a bit but I’m not from there.”
“She’s from there,” Boy teased, “I’m not though, I’m from here.”
Violet shot Boy a dirty look.
“Maybe you’re not from there but you’ve lived there. You must have, why else would you be blind?” William continued.
“But I’m not blind,” Violet said, “that’s what I’m trying to say.”
“I know Violet but I’ll let you in on a secret. You never were blind. They just made you believe you were.”
“Who?” Violet and Boy replied in unison.
“My brothers. They made everyone in Perfect blind.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story Violet,” William continued, “and you still haven’t told me how you came across my glasses?”
“I didn’t know they were yours but I found them under my bed. I’m telling the truth.”
“Well how did they get there?” William said, his voice still disbelieving.
“She did,” Boy interrupted, “I mean she did find them under her bed.”
“Ah,” William smiled, “I thought it might have something to do with you. All the children in No Mans Land have nifty fingers.”
“I didn’t steal them if that’s what you’re saying,” Boy replied angrily, “I just had them.”
Violet stared blankly at friend.
“But I thought my Dad…”
“I know what you thought,” Boy sighed, “that’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mind what you thought as long as you could see me. I’m sorry Violet it’s just I was sick of being invisible and you looked like good fun.”
“It’s okay Boy,” Violet smiled, “I’m happy you gave them to me.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” William Archer said, staring at Boy.
“I swear I didn’t steal them. I just always had them, since I was born. In the orphanage they said I was born wearing them and I believed it for years, then one of the nurses told me that the glasses were hidden in my blankets the day I arrived.”
“Oh.”
William fell into a deep silence. Boy and Violet communicated in stolen glances across the table afraid to break the quiet.
“And they, the nurses, did they say anything else?”
“No.”
Boy was silent now too. His head dropped and his hand slipped down off the table. He began to fumble with something in his pocket.
“There is one thing,” he mumbled, “this was left with them. I like to think it’s from my mother…”
He pulled a note from his pocket and unfolded it. Catching Violet’s shocked expression he blushed a rosy red. He passed it to William. The note once white was now grey, crumpled and worn, like paper long ripped from a copybook. Violet watched Boy closely as William Archer read. Then he folded it and without a word handed the note back to her friend.
“Can I read it?” she asked, almost leaping across the table.
Slowly Boy passed it over and Violet opened the note. She imagined Boy’s mother scribbling the mysterious message.
So you will never be invisible.
Something about it felt oddly familiar. Gently she folded the precious paper and handed it back to her friend.
“It’s beautiful Boy.”
He smiled, looked at it once more, then carefully put it back in his pocket.
“Does it mean anything to you Mr. Archer?” Violet asked.
“Em…no, no Violet it doesn’t,” William Archer said, rising from the table, “Now I’m being a terrible host. Would you like some tea? I could do with a cup after all the excitement of the day.”
“Yes please,” Violet smiled, “do you have any of the stuff from Perfect. It’s my favourite.”
“No Violet just normal tea here I’m afraid.”
William Archer left the pair at his table and walked back into the shadows of the room.
“Where do you think he’s gone?” Boy whispered.
“I suppose the kitchen,” Violet teased.
“Violet after all that’s happened you’re still a little stupid. Do you really trust him? He’s an Archer. I think we should leave.”
“No Boy, he’s good I can tell. Just give him a chance. Anyway why would somebody evil invent glasses so the people in No Mans Land could be seen again? Surely if he was like his brothers he wouldn’t do that- and what about the most obvious thing?” Violet whispered, leaning further across the table, “He lives here, in No Mans Land. Who’d choose that?”
“Thanks,” Boy huffed.
“Well you didn’t choose it, your mother did and she must have had her reasons. I think she was a good person even though she gave you up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well I mean your Mam; she must have known what was going on. If I had a kid I wouldn’t like it to grow up in Perfect. I’d choose No Mans Land too but only if I knew what was happening in Perfect, most people are blind to it. And she left you the glasses. She wanted you to know what was happening too. I think she wanted you to do something about it. If she couldn’t maybe she thought her son could. Don’t you think?”
“I never really thought about it. Anyway who even knows if it was my Mam. It could have been anyone. Like I said I have no parents. You have some imagination Violet. All that from one sentence.”
Boy sneered his friend just as William Archer walked back into the room with a tray of chipped mugs and a handle-less jug of milk.
“THE TEA!” Violet shouted, jumping up and almost knocking the tray from William’s hands, “It has to be the tea!”
“Yes it’s tea Violet,” Boy smirked, “you really are a bit crazy sometimes.”
“No Boy, don’t you see it has to be the tea. I never drank tea before I got to Perfect. Then the first night we arrived the Archers were there and they had tea ready. They told us everyone drinks it in Perfect and when I tried it I knew why. It tasted like anything I wanted it to taste like, an ice cream Sunday, fizzy cola bottles, apple drops, anything. I had two cups that night and the next day we were all blind. I never thought… Everybody drinks it! Even in school we had tea breaks all the time. And now I haven’t had it for a few days and I can see again. It can’t be by accident.”
“My brothers must have gotten better,” William sighed leaving down the tray, “in my day they were using tablets. They prescribed them to everyone for all sorts of eye ailments. It didn’t matter. They even dropped them in people’s drinks when they weren’t looking. It was a messy business.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?” Violet asked.
“Well for a while I did and I had a bit of a gang behind me. Soon people started to change. The town began to look perfect to them and they stopped listening. Then the Watchers came onboard. They were just a gang of thugs my brothers drafted in and paid for their dirty deeds. One day, they caught hold of me and I ended up here. I set up my shop and started work on reversing the effect of the glasses. That’s when I made these,” he said, picking the frames from the table.
“How did your brothers get them?” Boy asked.
“They caught me,” William said, looking at his hands, “I’d gone into town with the glasses; I was hoping that if my moth
er or Macula could just put them on they would know I hadn’t left them. They’d know I hadn’t gone away.”
“Who’s Macula?” Violet asked.
“Just someone I knew once.”
William moved his hands in front of his face to shield his eyes. Quickly he wiped them and began to pour the tea, handing a cup to each of his visitors.
“I’m okay thanks,” Boy said, holding up his hands.
“It’s safe,” William smiled, “I’m not like them. I’ll never be like them.”
His tone was firm and Boy took the cup from him. Violet looked over at her friend then took the first sip.
CHAPTER 22
The Reimaginator
“I think I have an idea,” Violet said, placing down her cup.
“Oh no! Not another one,” Boy teased, “the last idea ended with the Watchers trying to kill us!”
“Ha ha, very funny Boy! Anyway,” she said, looking at William who appeared lost in thought, “if it’s the tea that makes everyone blind then we get rid of the tea! Soon the whole of Perfect will be able to see again. Don’t you think Mr. Archer…Mr. Archer?”
“Oh yes, sorry Violet what were you saying?”
“The tea, if we get rid of the tea then everyone will be able to see again.”
“I’m not sure it’s so simple Violet. The glasses my brothers use don’t just block a person’s vision to certain things. They also suck out the imagination. At least they did in my day. At night the Watchers sneak into people homes, put their glasses into a special machine, I call it the ‘Super Sucker.’ The machine sucks out the imagination and the Watchers bring it back to my brothers shop to be stored.”
“That’s what we saw in the Archers shop Violet. All those jars of colour. They must have been imaginations!” Boy said, getting excited.
“But why?” Violet asked William Archer ignoring Boy’s enthusiasm.
“Oh it’s simple really. People are much easier to control when they have no imagination. They don’t ask questions and believe anything you tell them. Simple fact is a human isn’t much at all when they lack imagination.”
A Place Called Perfect Page 9