A Place Called Perfect

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A Place Called Perfect Page 12

by Helena Duggan


  It seemed as if they had been there ages when a door banged. Violet jumped. Boy’s hand quickly grabbed her ankle and squeezed. Footsteps crunched across the gravel and without a word the back door of the van slammed shut. The pair were alone in the dark. The van rocked as a Watcher climbed into the driver’s seat and it rocked again as another got in on the passenger side.

  “That pair are in foul form these days!” the driver snarled, as the engine sprung to life.

  “I’ve never seen them any other way,” the passenger said, as he rolled down the window, with one enormous snort he sucked all the snot from his nose and sent it flying into the air.

  Cobbled streets caused the barrels to dance round the back almost crushing Violet on numerous occasions. They’d been travelling for a long time when the driver suddenly slammed on the brakes. The large barrels raced forward banging Violet roughly on the elbow. The pain seared she bit her tongue to stop the scream. The Watchers climbed out of the front. Boy poked his head through the seats and looked around.

  “You okay?” he whispered, pulling back inside.

  She nodded.

  “We’re here. We have to get out now.”

  Silently he slipped through the seats, into the front and out the driver’s door. Alone in the van panic took over pain. Boy signalled frantically at her through the front window. She let go of her elbow and climbed swiftly through the gap in the seats. Once outside Boy grabbed her hand and raced for cover round the corner of a large stone shed. They were in the middle of the countryside and it was impossible to know whether it was Perfect or No Mans Land or somewhere else altogether. Dusk was breaking over the surrounding hills and the morning light brought new unease.

  “How do you know this is the place?” Violet whispered.

  “Take a look,” Boy said, pointing back around the side of the shed.

  Violet did as instructed. Another stone building greeted her. It was larger than the one they hid behind and had definitely seen better days. The walls were crumbling and the building was pockmarked with holes where bricks had fallen out or disintegrated. The windows that weren’t broken were covered in a film of misty condensation blocking any view of the inside. Steam bellowed from every nook and cranny, making the place look like a rocket ready to launch. A sign made in colourful letters rested over the rickety wooden door. It once read Merrill Marx Toy Makers but the “oy” was roughly crossed out in black brush strokes and replaced with a scribbled “ea”.

  “Merrill Marx Tea Makers?” Violet whispered, “Who’s Merrill Marx?”

  “Not a tea maker!” Boy replied angrily, “Merrill Marx is living in No Mans Land. I remember when I was young the nurses would sometimes take us on a trip to his toyshop. They never bought us anything but I loved looking at all the toys. He’d all sorts. Toys you couldn’t even imagine.”

  “So the Archers robbed his factory from him?”

  “Don’t worry Violet,” Boy smiled, “we’ll rob it back.”

  Violet followed Boy round the smaller shed and they slipped inside through an open doorway at the back. The place was full to the brim of barrels, just like the ones in the Watchers van. The words Merrill Marx Tea Makers were scrawled in rough handwriting across the front of them all.

  “I’ve seen the Watchers delivering these,” Boy whispered, lifting the lid from one to peer inside, “They always do it late at night. They leave a few barrels at the Archer’s and then drop a few more round Perfect.”

  “They must be for carrying the tea,” Violet said.

  Boy was about to reply when voices approached from outside. Both ran for cover behind a stack of barrels just as two burly Watchers entered the shed.

  “So I told old Eddie that if he wanted me working for him no more he better show a bit of respect or he’d have it,” one of the Watchers laughed.

  “And wha happened?”

  “Well he cried like a snifflin’ dog, he did. Begged me to stay and all!”

  “So why you still workin’ the barrels with me den?”

  “Cause I likes the barrels,” the Watcher snapped, as he picked one up and began to roll it out of the shed.

  “Ya showed old Eddie alright!” the other one laughed, grabbing another barrel and heading outside.

  Boy slipped out from hiding and ran to a window.

  “They’re rolling them into the factory Violet,” he whispered, “I think I’ve got an idea.”

  Violet shook her head as Boy explained what he had in mind.

  “It’s the only way Violet. The factory is over flowing with Watchers. There’s no other way in.”

  “But they’ll feel our weight Boy. They’ll know there is something inside.”

  “No they won’t Violet they’re rolling them. We’ll brace ourselves against the sides to make sure we don’t move and anyway both those Watchers seem a little slow. We’ll be fine!” Boy smiled, climbing inside the closest barrel to the door.

  “I’m not sure Boy,” Violet protested climbing inside the one beside his, “this seems a little…”

  “Ssh Violet, they’re coming back. You’ll be fine. Remember when you saved me, you’re way braver than I am,” Boy said, looking across the yard, “Now quick pass me your lid!”

  Violet handed it over and ducked down into the base of her barrel.

  “You’ll be fine,” he whispered, as the space plunged into darkness, “Just brace yourself and wait for me to come get you.”

  There was a gently thud as Boy closed his own lid then silence. Violet’s heart pounded in her chest. Footsteps approached from across the yard, soft at first they got louder until the Watchers were standing right by the barrels. There was a loud bang. Violet stopped breathing.

  “Those blasted lids. Have to give ‘em a right wallop to stay on,” a voice said, from directly above.

  They were only an arms reach from danger. Suddenly she was jerked forward until she was lying on her side, her knees touching her chin.

  “This one’s a bit heavy, wonder if them Perfectionists is drinkin’ all the tea?”

  “Don’t say that when de bosses around. That’d get them right angry and they’re cross enough lately.”

  “Right foul buggers they are,” Violet’s Watcher spat as she began to roll across the yard.

  Her head spun round and round like she was in a washing machine. Imagine how clothes feel? From this moment on she would only wear dirty clothes. Her stomach churned. The narrow space of the barrel grew narrower. It was extremely hot. Sweat rolled off her forehead, drips slipped down her back and even her arms oozed salty drops. She would not get sick.

  The outside world disappeared and she was plunged into a solitary torture. She was faint. She couldn’t lose control so close to danger. She’d let Boy, William and her family down. Suddenly, as her head spun in despair, the barrel stopped and she was jerked upright. Her feet were back to where they should be, below her head.

  She didn’t move a muscle. The Watchers chatted for a few moments above her then moved off, their voices fading into the distance. Violet waited but Boy didn’t appear. He’d said to hold on for him but what if something had happened? Just as she was about to move the lid popped off above her.

  “Come on,” Boy whispered, looking into the barrel, “they’ve gone.”

  His face was green and covered in tell tale droplets. There was also a slight sickly smell.

  “Are you okay?” Violet asked, climbing from her barrel.

  “Fine.”

  “It’s just…”

  “I’m fine Violet!”

  “You’ve been sick,” she smiled, suddenly feeling much better.

  “No I haven’t. Now come on this is no time for games,” Boy snapped, popping back on the lid.

  Violet tried not to laugh as she followed her friend across the room full of barrels. Rows of white coats and hats hung off hooks on the wall opposite. Putting on one of each, Boy handed another set to Violet.

  “They all wear them,” he explained, “we’ll blend in
.”

  Suddenly a loud horn rang through the factory and the barrels around them began to rattle. Violet grabbed Boy’s coat sleeve and pointed. The barrels were sitting on a conveyor belt, like the ones in airports and had started to move. There was a hole in the wall on the opposite side of the room and they were being shunted in uniform towards it. The factory was now full of noise. Beeps, whooshes and swooshes flew around them and Violet couldn’t hear a word Boy was saying. Frustrated he pulled her towards a door at the side of the room and pointed.

  “WE HAVE TO GO OUT THERE!” he roared just as the noises stopped.

  Boy’s voice boomed from the room. Violet froze. They both stood terrified waiting for the Watchers to arrive.

  CHAPTER 27

  William’s Potion

  Violet shivered, ‘It’s someone walking on your grave’ her Dad always said. She shook off the thought. Death was too close to joke about standing on the floor of the Watchers factory. Boy looked uneasy too though it could have been from his barrel rolling adventure. Violet eyed the door, then Boy, then the door again. Neither moved and after a few minutes she signed relief.

  “I don’t think they heard you,” she whispered.

  Boy breathed for the first time in a few moments washing away some of the odd blue colour that rested on his face. He was about to speak when the horn went off once more and the barrels began to move.

  “I think it must be on a cycle,” he whispered as the noise stopped, “It’s every five minutes I’d say. Next time it goes we’ll open the door and get out of here; nobody will hear us in that racket. We need to find where they make the tea.”

  “Will we split up?” Violet asked, “It might be quicker.”

  “Okay I’ll go right, you go left.”

  Violet nodded and they both waited nervously for the horn to sound again. On cue Boy opened the door. Suddenly the room flooded with steam. It was blinding and Violet’s eyes stung in the prickly hot air. Boy had already disappeared into the fog on her right, so she made her way gingerly from the barrel room onto the steaming factory floor. A haze of shadowy Watchers passed by busy with their duties. Reassuringly they also wore white coats and hats, Violet pulled her cap further down to blend in with the crowd.

  The Watchers sped through the space well used to the foggy atmosphere. One of them brushed lightly past Violet while looking down at a chart. Her stomach churned. His face was wrinkly, so wrinkly it was hard to see his features lost to rolls of puffy pink skin. He looked like the tips of Violet’s fingers after she’d spent too long in the bath.

  The noise stopped again. She had to concentrate. She had a task to do. There was a line of barrels just up ahead. If she followed them they might lead her to the tea. She reached the carousel just as a group of Watchers approached. Quickly she turned her back and pretended to inspect the line.

  “Everything alright?” a Watcher said, stopping just short of her.

  “Oh em…yes,” Violet replied, in the deepest voice possible, “just em… checking the barrels. Looks good!”

  The Watcher nodded and walked away. Her knees shook as she waited for him to disappear into the fog then hurried onwards. Her lungs burned, it was hard to breath let alone see in the thick steam.

  Keeping close to the carousel she was suddenly in the middle of the factory floor. It was a large circular area alive with activity. The horn went off again. This time the first five barrels in line moved forward into the circular space and were each shunted down a different shoot of the carousel to separate workstations. Each barrel was surrounded by three enormous steaming kettles linked by metal pipes to a huge tank suspended above the factory floor. It had to be the tea. Once the barrels were at their stations, the kettles tipped over one by one filling each with steaming hot liquid. Once full, the noise stopped, a Watcher secured the lid and the five barrels were shunted back out onto the main carousel. They moved off in a different direction and the next five waited their turn.

  Violet had found the tea, now she just needed to find Boy. Suddenly someone grabbed her from behind and a hand flew up over her mouth.

  “Ssh,” Boy whispered, “Follow me and don’t ask any questions.”

  Violet nodded and calmly followed her friend towards a door straight in front of them. Walking confidently Boy looked like he belonged, why couldn’t she be that brave? He opened the door and Violet stepped inside. The room was dark. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Suddenly she screamed but Boy’s hand was in place to muffle the sound.

  “They’re just dolls,” he whispered, “I found this place when I left you. I think it’s where they test the tea but it must have been the doll room when this place was a toy factory.”

  The room was lined in shelving, packed with baby body parts. Rows of tiny, hairless, heads stared unblinking from plastic boxes. Mini arms hung off hooks and fatty dismembered legs dangled from drawers. Reams of paper and flasks of moldy tea rested on the workbenches.

  “Did you see the tank?” Boy asked.

  Violet nodded.

  “It’s the tea. There’s a stairs that goes up to it,” he said, “but it’s full of Watchers and I’m not sure both of us would pass unnoticed…”

  “Well then it’s up to one of us,” Violet interrupted.

  “It’s not that easy Violet,” Boy replied. “There are Watchers everywhere. I don’t want them to know that we’ve been here, otherwise our whole plan will be ruined. We can’t be seen. We need to cause a diversion, I just don’t know how.”

  “What about the barrels?” Violet said excitedly, “Maybe if we cause a blockage in the barrel room the whole operation will stop working. It’s all connected. The kettles will pour into nothing, there’ll be steaming tea all over the floor. The Watchers will be running about the place in a panic.”

  Boy took a minute.

  “That’s brilliant Violet, it just might work,” he eventually smiled, “I think you’ve been hanging around No Mans Land too long. They won’t want you back in Perfect now!”

  “Hopefully there won’t be a Perfect when we’re finished.”

  For the next hour the pair planned their attack. It had to be perfect. It was decided Boy would go to the barrel room and cause the diversion. Being a boy, he argued, meant he was stronger and better able to lift the barrels. His logic didn’t make sense since the barrels were empty and he was skinny. Boys were sometimes stupid. Once the diversion was working it was her job to climb the stairs undetected and drop the flask of William Archer’s liquid into the tank of tea. Easy.

  “Remember to wait for my signal,” Boy said, as he left the room on the sounding of the horn.

  Violet paced the floor. She’d always hated dolls even when she was younger. There was something scary about them. The plastic eyes followed her through the room. Imagine if they climbed out of their boxes and crawled after her? She shook off the image. She had to concentrate. A second horn had gone off since Boy left and still nothing happened. There was no signal. A third horn and nothing. Her heart pounded as she played with William Archer’s flask. Just then a sharp screech bounced off the walls. It cut right through her. The signal! She ran to the door and opened it just in time to see the chaos.

  Quickly she closed it again and rested her head against the cold metal. Placing the flask inside the waistband of her trousers, she took a deep breath and slipped out the room of dolls.

  Watchers sprinted through the steam towards the carousel. Whatever Boy had done it worked. Kettles were pouring into empty space. Watchers rushed forward with buckets to catch the steaming liquid before it hit the floor. She looked out of place moving slowly through the madness so she sped up. The stairs was just ahead. She ran for it holding tightly to the flask through her coat. She’d just reached the first step when a hand grabbed her jacket.

  “You! Come with me and take this,” a wrinkly Watcher said, as he thrust a bucket into her hand.

  The flask slipped. The conical glass moved rapidly down the leg of her trousers about to hit the f
loor. She dropped the bucket to grab it.

  “What’s wrong you stupid fool? Pick up that bucket and follow me. We’re losing gallons of that blasted tea and you’re playing with your pants!” the Watcher shouted.

  Securing the flask once more in her waistband, Violet pulled down her cap and nodded. At the station she copied those around her and began to fill the bucket with tea. It smelt good, like ice cream and chocolate. Memories of all the glorious cups she shared in Perfect made her weak.

  The tea was hypnotic. The tang of fizzy cola bottles hit her tongue and the tantalizing twist of ice cream and orange danced on her taste buds. She was swept away in a world of sweet sugar.

  “Hurry up!” a Watcher growled, as Violet stopped to sniff the bucket, “You’d swear you never smelt that stuff before. What you say your name was again?”

  Panic ripped away her sugary dreams. Her mind went blank as the Watcher stared. Ignoring his question, she filled the bucket and walked steadily back towards the barrel.

  “Oi you sonny, I asked you a question!” the Watcher growled.

  She kept walking her legs like wobbly jelly.

  “Oi!” he shouted again, this time he was angry.

  “Hey Bill shut your trap and get back to work. It’s not the time for fightin!” another Watcher yelled.

  “I ain’t fightin mate!” Violet’s attacker replied.

  “It looks like fightin to me ya big over grown lump of lard!”

  A roar rose up behind Violet. She turned. Her Watcher was running head long for a man at the opposite station. Seizing the opportunity, she dropped her bucket and raced for the stairs. The Watchers now circled the fight. Violet sped unnoticed up the steps. Reaching the top she pulled the flask from her trousers. The landing was round and hugged the circumference of the tank. Violet ran around it but there was no opening to spill out the flask. A ladder on the side of the tank went up over the top of the steel cylinder. The Watchers were still focused on the fight but if any of them looked up they’d see her scaling the tank. She couldn’t worry about that. She took the flask in her teeth and grabbed the metal steps. Quickly she climbed to the top of the giant container. The ground was miles below, her arms shook, dizziness hit her. She steadied for a minute.

 

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