“Did you get my skateboard?”
“No, I think it was locked in one of the cupboards. When Rose nabbed you, I escaped through the window and slid down the gutter. What happened?”
The disappointment was overwhelming. “Dammit, Freddy, couldn’t you have tried a bit harder? You were right there!”
“Don’t shout, okay! I said it was locked away. Tell me, did she call the police? Did she torture you?”
Pete didn’t feel like talking. He was angry and suddenly bone-tired. He wanted to be in bed. “Nothing happened. I got away.”
He left Freddy in the alley and walked home alone.
Pete felt like chewing gum stretched between a shoe and a hot road. Miss Green had an aura of mystery and cold power. She was scary. At the same time she intrigued and attracted him. Somehow she had awakened a new emotion in him. Life had taught him not to want anything, because it usually ended in disappointment. He had always been okay with what he had, and happy when he received something unexpected. But a skateboard that could telepenetrate and grant wishes …
He wanted it.
And he didn’t want to be “Patchwork Pete” anymore.
The sun was rising when he finally climbed through the window of their flat. He made sure that his dad was still asleep, and quietly slipped into bed. He was asleep in an instant. When Peter Smith came back from church later that morning, he tried to wake Pete. Pete mumbled something about a headache, turned over and slept again.
On Monday morning, Pete woke with a ton of bricks in his stomach. If he could have avoided going to school he would have, but he couldn’t find an excuse. And he had to know.
The weather was foul; the clouds burst on his way to school. The children shuffled into the hall for Monday morning assembly in their wet raincoats and sat in little puddles on the polished wooden floor. Schiz was in a particularly bad mood. There had been a burglary in the office over the weekend. Of course he knew who the guilty party was, but since he was a compassionate and merciful man, he would give the culprit a chance to redeem himself by confessing. Pete sighed with relief. Miss Green hadn’t given him away. Yet.
Biology was the third period of the day. Miss Green kept bragging about her new herpetological wonder: her toad from South America. Henry could breathe through his skin, see? That’s why he was so slimy, so the oxygen could dissolve and diffuse into the blood. Wasn’t that something? Pete thought he would puke and avoided making eye contact with her at all cost. When the bell finally rang, Miss Green called him to her desk.
“Have you thought about my little proposition?” she asked when they were alone.
“Not really …”
“You know that the petty cash box disappeared from the office?”
Pete drew a deep breath. “It wasn’t me! I would never do that!”
She smiled. “If you say so, Pete. Apparently poor Rose was assaulted. She has a big bump on the head and amnesia to show for it. The police will never know who did it, unless …”
He watched the rainwater run in small rivulets down the windowpanes. Beyond that was grey city against grey sky. “Unless?”
“Well, she could regain her memory, you know. I know a few incantations and concoctions that are quite effective for curing amnesia. They say juvenile detention can be hell …” She reached into her drawer and handed Pete a photograph of a brand new skateboard, obviously top of the range and very expensive, with a carbon fibre composite deck and titanium alloy trucks. “Partners?”
Pete nodded, then walked slowly to Miss Peach’s classroom for History.
6
Labour Unrest
When he got home after detention, Pete went straight to the bicycle shop. The rain had stopped, but there was still a nasty wind blowing. The old wooden sign over the entrance creaked as it swung to and fro in the gale. To the unbelieving eye it simply said Humperdinck Bicycles in bold green letters, but to those who had the sight, the ability to believe their eyes, it also said at the bottom, Consultant Neurosorcerer. Between the two lines somebody had scratched with white chalk: Snowman.
Pete entered and found that most of the chaos in the shop had been cleared. He suspected that the Snowman had used some sort of magic to do it. A few things still needed to be done, however, so he busied himself with little chores among the shelves where he could avoid talking to Squeak and the Snowman.
After about half an hour, the doorbell tinkled and Mr Jones entered in the wake of a whirlwind that turned out to be Mangler.
The massive dog bounded around the shop on long legs, his tongue trailing behind his ugly face, splattering drool all over the place. He had caught a whiff of the Snowman and was determined to hunt down the cat.
Sticks hobbled closer, swiping a broom left and right at Mangler. He almost hit Pete in the process. “Shoo! Out, stupid dog!” Panic raised the Snowman’s voice by about an octave, somehow diminishing the dramatic effect of the big man swinging a broom.
“Mangler … Mangler!” Mr Jones clapped his hands twice.
The dog stopped in his tracks. He leaped back to his master and slobbered on the old man’s face.
Mr Jones grabbed Mangler by the collar with his right hand and crumpled the dog’s ear with the left. “Bad dog! Sit!” The look of utter adoration in his eyes turned the reprimand into a declaration of love. He looked at Sticks. “I’m so sorry, Mr …”
The Snowman moved Sticks’s hand to his mouth as he cleared his throat. “Sticks.”
“Mr Styx. I didn’t know that you didn’t like dogs.”
“I’m definitely a cat person,” said the automaton. “Now please get that … monster out of my shop!” The Snowman waved Sticks’s hands wildly in an effort to ward off the danger and nearly crashed the automaton into a row of dusty bicycles.
Pete rushed to Mr Jones’s side and helped him move Mangler out the door. On the pavement outside, he looped the chain that was used to double-lock the bicycle shop’s door at night, through the dog’s collar. Then he followed Mr Jones inside. The Snowman had not expected them back, and Sticks stood immobile next to the bicycles.
Mr Jones took off his hat and mumbled some excuses for his dog’s behaviour. “Mrs Burton said she would talk to you about the vacant post of maintenance engineer, Mr Styx …” When the automaton did not respond, he walked a bit closer. “Excuse me …”
“He often gets like this,” said Pete. “Freddy says it’s petty mall, or something.”
Sticks’s eyes flickered. “I’m sorry … You said something about maintenance?”
“The lights in my flat went out the other night, when you had the explosion down here, and since then the electricity has gone haywire. When I switch on the TV, the oven goes on, and my bedside lamp makes the toilet flush. Mr Humperdinck would’ve …”
The doorbell played his tune again and Maggie
