A Place Called Perfect (12 page)

CHAPTER 25

Time For Tactics

William Archer walked to the cabinet and pulled out a notepad and pencil.

“Now tell me everything you know. I need all the details,” he said, rejoining the pair at the table.

Violet and Boy told their tale with enthusiasm. Starting when Violet put on William’s glasses, to the Archer’s shop, the Ghost Estate, the eyes, Macula and finding Violet’s Dad. William Archer interjected with questions. He pushed them to remember details and when they’d finished Violet and Boy were exhausted.

“I’ve never had to think this hard about anything,” Boy yawned, rubbing his forehead.

“We have to get everything down Boy. My brothers are formidable opponents and we can’t go into battle ill prepared.”

“We’re going into battle?” Violet said her eyes large.

“We’re not going to kill anybody are we?” Boy asked.

“No Boy,” William smiled, “we’re going to cause mayhem and madness. My brothers won’t know what hit them. I’ve been waiting for things to happen a very long time and you two have made me see sense. I can’t sit down and wait any longer, I have to make them happen. Waiting is a coward’s game. I have to fight for what I want.”

“Well I want my family back,” Violet said.

“As do I Violet,” William replied.

Boy sat silently fidgeting opposite them. Violet flushed, he had no family.

“Boy imagine: you’ll be free of me,” she smiled.

He smiled back but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Now,” William said, pushing up from the table, “can you two draw a map of the Ghost Estate. It needs to be as accurate as possible. Mark down the house you think Macula is in and where all the Watchers are stationed…”

“And where my Dad is,” Violet interrupted.

“Of course Violet,” William Archer said, quickly walking back into the shadows of the room.

Violet and Boy were arguing over the number of houses in the estate when William rejoined them at the table. He was laden down with bits and bobs of equipment, reams of paper and a jar of gooey water in which the dead eye plant was suspended.

“Eeeeuh!” Violet said, as the jar was placed in front of her, “that thing is disgusting.”

“I did a little investigation after you left. It brought me back to the old days” William smiled, as he picked up the eyeball, “I discovered what my brothers are up to with these little beauties.”

He handed the plant to Violet and then Boy pointing out an incision he’d made in the centre of the eye.

“See this,” he said, gently lifting a thin layer of rose coloured film from the pupil, “this is made from the same material as the lenses in their glasses. I remember my brothers’ main frustration with Perfect was that is wasn’t quiet Perfect, not when everyone in the town wore glasses. With these new eyes that problem is solved. Genius; in a twisted kind of way.”

“You mean they were going to take out people’s eyes and give them new ones?” Boy said, paling round the cheeks.

“Exactly Boy,” William smiled, “I don’t expect my brothers would explain it that way though. I’m sure they’d say it was laser surgery or something of that sort. I’ve heard that’s all the rage in the world of optometry these days.”

“But what about the imaginations?” Violet asked, “how would they steal them then?”

“Oh Violet,” William smiled, “No matter what I say about my brothers I have to give them one thing. They are extremely clever. I’m sure people must have a number of check ups after laser surgery, don’t you think? Three or four sessions should be sufficient to steal a whole imagination these days.”

“Oh,” Violet gasped, “we have to stop them. If they swap people’s eyes there’ll be no hope of them ever changing back.”

“Exactly Violet and that’s why we have to act quickly.”

“What are you planning?” Boy asked.

“I propose a full on assault. Storm the estate. Rescue Macula…and Violet’s Dad of course and destroy the eyes.”

Violet was looking at William’s scribbled notes when she caught Boy making signals at the other side of the table.

“What’s wrong?” she mimed.

William Archer pulled his head from his papers.

“Is everything alright?”

“There’s something wrong with Boy,” Violet said, as her friend made exaggerated facial expressions.

William turned his attention towards Boy who immediately stopped his strange behaviour

“Em…it’s nothing,” he said, looking down at the table.

“It is,” Violet interrupted, “otherwise why would you be making those faces?”

“Thanks Violet!” Boy snapped, annoyed at his friend’s lack of subtlety.

“Come on Boy, spit it out,” William said.

“Well…” Boy began, “I’m not sure about going to the estate just yet. I…I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

William shifted in his seat.

“And why not?” he asked.

“It’s just well… I know the Watchers aren’t the brightest but they aren’t stupid either, I’ve spent twelve years finding that out. They know that we know where Macula and Violet’s Dad are. They know we know about the eyes and the Archers’ experiments too so they’ll be on high alert to anyone going in or out of the estate. I really don’t think it is a good idea to go there first. I know you want Macula and Violet wants her Dad back but they’ll be expecting that and we’ll have walked straight into a trap.”

“I kinda agree with Boy,” Violet said, quietly just as William Archer stood up and began pacing the room.

“Boy, I’m impressed,” he said, after a few minutes, “I was going to run into this like a bull in a china shop. All thought of Macula has clearly clouded my vision. I see now I’ve been selfish. This can’t be just about me, or what I want. It has to be about Perfect. Perhaps we need some lateral thinking.”

“I think we need a diversion,” Boy said, “Maybe that way we can free Perfect and Macula and Violet’s Dad all at the same time.”

“What do you have in mind?” William replied, taking to his seat once more.

Violet and William listened intently as Boy outlined his plan and by that evening they had formulated the first part of ‘Project Perfect’. William Archer took to his den to find all the research he had on reversing his brothers’ blinding concoction.

“I knew I had these notes somewhere,” he said, carrying a bunch of papers back up from his basement. “I’d been working on reversing the effects of their tablets for a while, but abandoned it thinking it was a task too big for one man. Perhaps it’s not too big for one man, one boy and one girl though. However, I’m not altogether sure this mixture will work on the tea. They didn’t have that in my day.”

“I’m sure they use the same stuff in the tea as they did in the tablets. They just probably use more of it,” Violet smiled.

“Good point Violet,” William replied, as he cleared a space on his desk and began to pull out glass flasks from all sorts of nooks and crannies.

Violet and Boy tried to pick up on some sleep needed if they were to be successful in the next part of their plan as William Archer the scientist sprung to life. He argued with himself as he worked about the amounts of this or that needed to reverse the effects of the tea. Later that night he gently shook the pair fromtheir dreams and handed over a flask of greenish pink liquid.

“I do hope this works,” he smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Brilliant,” Boy said, sleepily taking hold of the flask, “we’ll be back fingers crossed by tomorrow evening.”

“What if we can’t find the factory?” Violet asked.

“We’ll find it,” Boy replied.

“I’ll have the old crew rounded up for your return,” William said, “it should take a day or two for the mixture to work so we have time to get the Reimaginator back into action.”

William gave them both a big hug as they left his house under the cover of darkness.

“Sometimes I really don’t like adults,” Violet whispered as they edged along the dark street, “but sometimes I love them. I don’t know why but their hugs always make me feel safe.”

“I wouldn’t know, that was my first one,” Boy replied, checking round the corner ahead.

His first hug! Violet couldn’t believe it. She followed behind her friend in a somber silence the whole way to the Archer Brothers shop.

CHAPTER 26

Merrill Marx Tea Makers

“I thought we were meant to be looking for the factory. What are we doing here?” Violet asked, as Boy pulled her into the bushes directly opposite the Archer’s shop.

“We are but for now we’re waiting,” he replied.

“For what?”

“You’ll see,” he smiled, and continued his surveillance.

Violet sat back in the bushes, found a comfortable spot and refused to talk to Boy; his response was vague, why couldn’t he just tell her the plan? It was a dark night but the air was warm, and the lonely hoot of an owl resting somewhere above occupied her mind. Hours passed and she’d just nodded off when Boy yanked her sleeve dragging her from her slumber.

“This is it,” he whispered, “we have to go now. Follow me.”

Violet, half asleep, followed her friend from the safety of the bushes out into the dark street. There was a faint outline of a van parked outside the Archer’s shop. A Watcher sat idly on the bonnet, the back doors of the vehicle hung open.

Boy got onto his knees and crawled across the tarmac towards the van. Pebbles and stones dug into her flesh as Violet followed suit. Reaching the back door of the van, Boy signalled to climb aboard. He wanted her to get into the Watchers van, was he mad? She shook her head and turned to crawl back. Boy grabbed her ankle. His grip was firm and his eyes wild and strong. He pointed again. She climbed aboard.

It was dark and she almost collided with a large wooden barrel on her left. She put her hands out. There was another barrel on her right and a narrow space between them. She squeezed in through the middle and hid behind the right hand barrel. Boy followed her lead and slipped in behind the left one. It was pitch black inside and her heart beat rapidly. Boy was invisible in the darkness. She shoved out her foot until she touched his. Her heartbeat steadied. She rested her head against the cold sides of the van and waited.

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.