Charlie Bone and The Blue Boa (Children Of The Red King, Book 3) (9 page)

Billy and Charlie watched in dismay as the big man turned his hat over and put his hand on top of the mouse. But then he gave a grunt of fury and dropped both hat and mouse. "He bit me!" he yelled.

Charlie whispered to Billy "With any luck he'll get the plague."

The mouse leaped out of the hat and raced under the sofa.

"Get me out of here!" shrieked Ezekiel. "Weedon, leave the darn mouse. Billy fetch your bag, you're coming home with me!"

"But I'm staying with Charlie," said Billy "for the weekend. I don't want to go back to Bloor's."

"Don't argue," shouted Ezekiel. "He's a bad influence. Go and get your stuff"

Billy wriggled out of the chair and left the room with a look of despair.

"It's not fair," said Charlie. "Billy's alone every weekend."

"Not fair! Not fair!" mimicked Grandma Bone. "Nothing's fair with you, is it?"

"No." Charlie was so disgusted with everyone, he walked out of the room, growling softly “And it's not fair to keep invisible boys locked up."

"What did you say you insolent boy?" his grandmother shouted.

Billy came downstairs with his bag and Rembrandt in the box. Charlie was about to advise him to hide the box when Mr. Weedon burst out of the living room carrying the old man.

"What's in there?" said Ezekiel, tapping the box with his cane.

“A — a rat!" said Billy too frightened to lie.

"What? Get rid of it."

"But it's a friend," said Billy faintly

"It's not coming into my house," declared Ezekiel.

"But it belonged to Mr. Boldova," said Billy making things worse for himself. “And now that he's gone, there's no one else to look after it."

Grandma Bone and Aunt Lucretia had come into the hall and both began shouting at once, "In the house? A rat?" "Someone kill it!"

Billy's eyes began to fill with tears. "You c-can't . . . " he sobbed.

"I'll look after it," cried Charlie, seizing the box. "Don't worry Billy"

"You will not!" roared Grandma Bone. "I won't have it in the house. Weedon, bang it on the head!"

But Weedon had his hands full with Ezekiel and before anyone else could make a move, Charlie had opened the front door.

" 'Bye, Billy" he shouted, as he raced down the steps. "I'm taking Rembrandt somewhere where he'll be safe."

"Come back!" called Grandma Bone.

"That boy's out of control," bellowed Aunt Lucretia.

"Not for long!" said Ezekiel.

Charlie didn't hear this. He ran up Filbert Street and on into the city stopping only once to look into the box. Rembrandt stared out fearfully his nose twitching at least a hundred times a second.

"Sorry Rem," Charlie panted. "I hate to do this to you, but you didn't stand a chance back there." He raced up Frog Street and sped down the alley to the Pets' Café.

"Hello, Charlie. You look winded," said Norton, the bouncer, as Charlie leaped through the door.

"I've got to see Mr. Onimous," said Charlie. "Is he around?" He held up the box. "Rat," he said. "In a bit of trouble."

"Orvil's in the kitchen," said Norton. "Just go around the counter."

Leaping over a birdcage and two dachsunds, Charlie hastily made his way around the counter and through the door at the back. Mr. and Mrs. Onimous were having a cup of tea at the long kitchen table. Several large saucepans were bubbling away on the stove, and they both looked very flushed.

"Well, if it isn't Charlie," said Mr. Onimous, dabbing his face with a red handkerchief. "Sit down my friend, and have a cup of tea."

"Thanks, but I'm in a bit of a rush," said Charlie.

There was a joyful bark and Runner Bean erupted from under the table. Charlie put his box on the table and allowed his face to be licked while he rubbed the big dog's rough hair. When he looked around Rembrandt was sitting beside Mrs. OnimOus' cup of tea.

"Well, this is a nice surprise," she said. “A very pretty rat indeed."

Runner Bean growled and Charlie asked him if he would please be quiet because the rat was already in quite a state.

"I brought him here because Grandma Bone would have killed him," Charlie explained. "I thought he'd be safe with you. Can you look after him, Mrs. Onimous, please?"

"You'd better tell us what all this is about, young Charlie," said Mr. Onimous.

“And have some cake while you do it," said Mrs. Onimous. "Sit down, Charlie, and make yourself at home."

Charlie hadn't intended to stay He was worried that his mother would get home from work and find Grandma Bone in a fury But the smell of freshly baked cakes, and the Onimouses' welcoming smiles, were too hard to resist. So he sat between them at the table and munched his way through an enormous slice of chocolate cake, while he told his friends everything, about Ollie Sparks, the blue boa, and the terrible loneliness of Ollie's invisibility. And then the final dreadful scene with Ezekiel and poor Billy

"Billy wanted to keep the rat," said Charlie, feeding Rembrandt a crumb. "It's a friend, you see. It can understand what Billy says. But that revolting old man said he couldn't have it, and Grandma Bone told Mr. Weedon to bang it on the head."

"The poor, dear creature." Mrs. Onimous clutched her chest. "Come to me, my love!"

Rembrandt leaped over a plate and landed in Mrs. Onimous' lap. Obviously Billy wasn't the only person he could understand.

"You say your uncle has a mystery illness," said Mr. Onimous, who had great respect for Paton Yewbeam. “And you have no idea what caused this strange affliction?"

“All I know is that he met someone in Yewbeam Castle," said Charlie. “And this person did something to him."

The Onimouses stared at Charlie, equally horrified.

"That's a terrible place," said Mr. Onimous at last.

"Have you been there?" asked Charlie.

"Never." Mr. Onimous shook his head. "Wild horses couldn't drag me there. It's an evil place, Charlie. Your uncle was lucky to get out alive."

"But maybe he won't stay alive," said Charlie fearfully

"We must live in hope, dear," said Mrs. Onimous, Who looked anything but hopeful.

CHAPTER 10

THE WAND

On his way home, Charlie called in at the bookshop. Emma was on duty at the counter, while her aunt wrapped books in the back room.

"Tell Miss Ingledew that my uncle's home," said Charlie. "But he's not very well."

"What's the matter with him?" asked Emma.

"It's hard to explain. But it's scary Em. I'm afraid he might not get better — ever."

"Why?" asked Emma with a worried frown. "How did it happen? Is it a mystery bug or something?"

"Can't really say Got to go now Em. There was a bit of trouble before I left." Charlie hurried off leaving Emma looking baffled.

There was a not-quite-peaceful silence inside number nine.

Billy had obviously been taken back to Bloor's and there was no sign of Grandma Bone. It was lunchtime so Charlie began to help himself from the fridge: cheese, cucumber, salami, and peanut butter all sandwiched between two thick slices of bread. He was about to sit at the table when he remembered his uncle. He made another identical sandwich and put them both on a tray with a glass of water.

Paton called, "Come in! Come in!" immediately after Charlie knocked.

"Praise be, refreshments," said Uncle Paton when he saw the tray He heaved himself up on his pillows and patted the bed.

Charlie put the tray in front of his uncle. He was glad to see that Paton had managed to change into his pajamas. Hopefully this meant that he'd had a bath, though there was still a funny smell in the room.

"Scorched socks!" said Paton, who had noticed Charlie's discreet sniff.

"Uncle, what happened?" asked Charlie. "Can you talk about it now?"

Paton took a long drink of water, cleared his throat rather loudly and said, "Ahem. You'll have to know something of our past, Charlie. It all began when I was seven. You'll remember I discovered my gift on my seventh birthday"

Charlie nodded. "The lights exploded and all the other children went home, and you ate all their ice cream and were sick."

"Good memory," Paton remarked. "Well, shortly after this we all went to visit my great-aunt, Yolanda, at Yewbeam Castle."

Charlie waited breathlessly while his uncle massaged his throat.

"My mother was French," Paton went on. "A very beautiful woman. She'd been an actress, but when she married my father she found that she loved children. So she had five and gave up the stage. She was very proud of my gift. There'd been a few 'unusual talents' in her own family

"She told Yolanda about me on our very first night there. We were having dinner in a long, dark room on the ground floor. There were eight of us, and Lyell, your father, who was two. His own father, a pilot, had already been killed — crashed his plane in the desert. Well, my mother said, 'Guess what, Aunt Yolanda, Paton is endowed.' I can see Yolanda's face now The way her eyes lit up." Paton bit into his sandwich.

“And then my sister, Venetia, who was twelve, said, 'Like me. And like Eustacia, she's a clairvoyant. But Lucretia and Grizelda aren't endowed, poor things.' The two eldest were very put out, as you can imagine, but then Grizelda said, 'Who knows? Baby Lyell may have a gift one day'

"Yolanda gazed around at us. She looked so hungry A real predator." Paton paused and took another bite of his sandwich. "This is uncommonly good, Charlie," he said. "What's in it?"

"I've forgotten. Please go on, Uncle Paton," begged Charlie.

His uncle looked suddenly very grave. "Yewbeam Castle is a terrible place. It's built of a rock that seems to attract the night. It's a sooty gray inside and out. And they still haven't put in electricity The stairs are narrow; steep, and dark. On our second day my mother fell and broke her neck." Paton gave a frown of pain and touched his throat again.

"We were all in the garden, if you can call it that. It's just a field of wild grass that grows right up to the castle walls. I heard my mother cry out, but my father reached her first — I was just two steps behind him. She was lying at the bottom of a treacherous stairway leading out of the hall. I heard her say 'Don't let her . . . ' And then she was gone." Paton pulled a handkerchief from under his pillow and vigorously blew his nose.

"Yolanda pushed her, didn't she?" Charlie said grimly

Paton gave a huge sigh. "I'm sure she did. But who could prove it? Besides, my sisters were already under her spell. They wouldn't hear a word against her. In fact, they wouldn't even leave the castle after my mother died. Yolanda tried to keep me, too. She begged and wheedled, she screamed and threw things. She turned into a wild dog, a bat, a serpent — she's a shape-shifter, you know. She tried to hypnotize my father, but he escaped with me and he never let me out of his sight until he was sure I could take care of myself."

"You went to Yewbeam Castle to stop Yolanda from coming here, didn't you?" said Charlie.

Paton nodded. "I heard my sisters plotting the night before I left. So I decided to pay Yolanda a visit. But I was too late. She wasn't there —"

"Uncle Paton," Charlie interrupted, "she's here."

"What?" Paton sagged against the pillows. "I was afraid of that. Is she . . .? What shape has she taken?"

"She's a girl, quite a pretty one. But her eyes keep changing, as if they can't remember what color they're supposed to be. I knew right away there was something wrong. She's living with the aunts in Darkly Wynd. But why has she come here, Uncle, after all this time?"

"I only caught snatches of my sisters' conversation," said Paton. "I was in the kitchen having a midnight snack when they arrived. I don't care for their chatter, so I hid in the pantry Very undignified, but luckily they only had a cup of tea. They discussedYolanda and then moved off, into the living room. From what I could gather, Yolanda was called in to help the old man — Ezekiel — in some nefarious plan to disappear."

Charlie gasped. "The boa!" he exclaimed. "Ezekiel's got a blue boa that can make things invisible. He's done it to a boy named Ollie Sparks."

“Ah, well, it seems it's just a one-way ticket at the moment. You can go, but you can't come back, if you take my meaning. Ezekiel wants it both ways, naturally But as he's an incompetent magician, he can't do it."

"So he's practicing on Ollie," Charlie murmured. "He's kept in the attics."

"Dear lord, whatever next?" sighed Paton.

Charlie was still desperate to know about his uncle's visit to the castle. "Uncle, what happened?" he said gently "Why have you lost your power?"

Paton closed his eyes. His face had a closed look, shuttered and blank. It seemed that he couldn't speak of his ordeal just yet. It had been too terrible.

The doorbell rang.

Grandma Bone must have been in the house all the time, because the front door opened and Charlie could hear her voice.

"You're not welcome here. Please leave!"

Charlie opened the window and looked down at the steps. "It's Miss Ingledew,” he told his uncle. “And Emma. Hi, Emma!" he called.

"Julia?" Patron's eyes flew open. "She wants to see me then!"

"Hi!" said Emma, waving a bunch of roses at Charlie.

Miss Ingledew looked up. "Hello, Charlie, I've come to —"

She was cut short by Grandma Bone, who stepped out of the house and growled, "I asked you to leave."

"But I've come to see Mr. Yewbeam. I heard he wasn't well." Miss Ingledew held up a yellow paper bag. "We've brought flowers and bananas, they're so good for . . .”

"We've got our own bananas!" barked Grandma Bone, advancing on her unwelcome visitors. "Mr. Yewbeam is far too ill to have company."

"He's not!" cried Charlie.

"Be quiet!" Grandma Bone glared up at Charlie, while Emma and Miss Ingledew were forced to step down on to the pavement.

"Really Mrs. Bone," said Julia. "I'm sure it wouldn't do Paton any harm to see me. I'm concerned about him. Don't you understand?"

Paton's face turned from white to pink, then back to white again as he struggled out of bed. "Julia," he said breathlessly "Don't let her go, Charlie!"

"Stop stalking my brother." Grandma Bone followed Miss Ingledew down the steps. 'You're not welcome here."

"I am not stalking him. I have never stalked anyone in my life." Clearly upset by Grandma Bone's insinuation, Miss Ingledew threw back her head of magnificent chestnut hair and marched away up the street. Emma waved bleakly at Charlie and ran after her.

"Has she gone?" croaked Paton.

" 'Fraid so, Uncle," said Charlie. "I think Grandma Bone offended her."

Paton put his head in his hands. "I'm lost," he moaned. "I might as well be dead."

"Don't say that!" Charlie couldn't bear to see his normally vigorous uncle in such a pitiful state. "I'll try and get her back," he said.

Grandma Bone met Charlie in the hall. "Where do you think you're going?" she said.

"Out," said Charlie.

"Oh, no, you're not. You've got work to do. Studying, I believe. You've got tests coming up on Monday Lots of them. Get upstairs and take out your books. Right now!"

Charlie almost exploded with indignation. "How could you do that to Uncle Paton?" he demanded. "He really wanted to see Miss Ingledew"

"That woman's no good for him," said Grandma Bone. "Now if you don't get to work this minute, I'll tell them to give you detention next Saturday In fact, after your disgraceful behavior this morning, I'll be surprised if you don't get it, anyway"

"I . . . You're just a . . . " Charlie struggled to contain-himself and then rushed to his room before he said something so rude his grandmother would make sure he had detention for years to come.

For several hours Charlie wrestled with history dates, geographical locations, English grammar, and French verbs. He began to get a headache and found he was forgetting things more than remembering them. Occasionally he looked out of his window; longing to see Benjamin and Runner Bean racing across the street. But no friendly face appeared, and nothing interesting occurred to break the monotony of Charlie's awful afternoon . . . until he noticed the wand.

It was lying under his bed, caught in a thin beam of sunlight. Charlie picked it up. The wand felt warm and silky It was very comforting to hold, almost like tasting something exceptionally delicious or lying on a bed of feathers.

Charlie had an idea. Skarpo had stolen the wand from a Welsh wizard so, reaching for the Welsh dictionary his uncle had given him, Charlie looked for the words "help me." He found "helpu fi" and remembered the "u" was pronounced "i," and the "f" like a "v."

Charlie sat at his table and, holding the wand in his lap, he stared at a column of French verbs and their English equivalents. "Helpi vee," he said. "Helpi vee! Helpivee!"

For a few moments nothing happened, and then Charlie had the strangest sensation. It was as if the word "look" was whispered into his brain. He tightened his grip on the wand and looked at the words in front of him. A few minutes later he tested himself Miraculously he had learned every verb and its meaning.

Charlie was so excited he dashed into his uncle's room without knocking.

Paton's eyes were closed, but his face was distorted by a terrible frown. Charlie had forgotten Miss Ingledew's unfortunate visit.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Uncle," Charlie said in a quietly urgent voice, "but something amazing has happened."

"What?" Paton said wearily

"You know you took the wand when you went to Yewbeam Castle and it got all burned by something. Well, it got better, somehow It's as good as new; and I just tried using it to memorize my French, and — it's amazing — it worked!"

Paton's eyes opened. He looked at Charlie with interest, and then his gaze was drawn to the wand. "Curious," he murmured. "Very curious."

Charlie said, "I know this sounds silly but do you think the wand might really be mine?"

"How could that be possible, dear boy? You got it from an ancient painting."

"Yes, but . . . " Charlie was reluctant to tell his uncle that Skarpo had refused to take the wand back. Paton had warned him, more than once, not to go into the painting again.

Paton was now staring at Charlie's feet, and Charlie had a horrible feeling he knew exactly what his uncle was looking at. He had forgotten to shut the door and something had crept into the room. Yes, there it was, right beside his left foot. It began to squeak.

"That is a very singular mouse," Paton observed. "I've always known we had mice in the house, but that one looks abnormally old. I can't say why."

“Actually it is," Charlie confessed.

Paton eyed his great-nephew suspiciously "Explain!"

Charlie explained, as best he could, how he had taken a step, just a fraction of a step really into the painting of Skarpo. "I did it for you, Uncle," he said. "I thought he might have something to cure you. That's when he said the wand belonged to me. He wanted to meet you, but I wouldn't let him. As you see, I got out all right, but the mouse that was in his pocket came with me."

"What!" Paton's head dropped back onto the pillows. "Then the sorcerer's out, too!"

"Maybe not," said Charlie hopefully "I mean he'd have done some damage by now, wouldn't he?"

"If the mouse is out, then he is out, you stupid boy" Paton snapped.

"But he's still in the picture."

"That's just his image, Charlie. The essence of the man, the living, breathing being, with all its mischief, magic, and mayhem is OUT!"

After a moment of humble silence, Charlie said, "What should I do with the mouse, then?"

The mouse ran under the bed.

"It hardly matters," Paton muttered. "What have you done, Charlie? I thought that life couldn't get worse, but now here I am, done for, and that person is on the loose." He closed his eyes.

Charlie would have liked to bring up the subject of the wand again, but clearly his uncle would rather he left the room.

"Sorry," Charlie murmured. He tiptoed out and closed the door on his uncle and, presumably the mouse.

Amy Bone had just come back from work and Charlie could hear her setting the table for dinner. He ran down to the kitchen.

"Where's Billy?" asked Mrs. Bone.

Charlie told her about Ezekiel's visit.