The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse (14 page)

'Yes,' said Jack. 'Let's do that.'

The workroom was
exactly
as Jack might have expected it to look.

Tools of many persuasions were racked on every wall between shelves and shelves of gingham and lace and kapok and countless jars containing glass eyes that stared out blankly at Jack. Sewing machines and other machines jostled for space upon a workbench crowded with half-completed toys. Beneath this, rolls and rolls of fur fabric of every bear shade were piled upon one another in furry confusion. From the low ceiling hung dolls' arms and legs of all sizes and shapes.

A coal fire burned brightly in a tiny fireplace and beside this stood a comfy-looking chair.

'Onto the bench with him then,' said the toymaker.

Jack carefully eased Eddie from his pocket and laid him down on the workbench.

'Oh dear,' said the toymaker. 'This is a very sorry-looking bear. I think we'd be better just to bin him.'

'No!' said Jack. 'No, please, he's my friend. Save him if you can.'

'Your friend,' said the toymaker. 'He really
is
your friend?'

'He is,' said Jack. 'I care about him.'

'Nice,' said the toymaker. 'Very nice.' And he looked once more upon Eddie. 'Ah,' he said. 'I know this model. It's one of the old Anders Standards.'

'I was given to understand that he's an Anders Imperial,' said Jack. 'He has a "special tag" in his ear.'

Mr Anders viewed the "special tag". He raised a quizzical eyebrow and then he laughed. 'Toys will be toys,' he said. 'And this one, you say, is your friend?'

Jack nodded. 'My bestest friend,' he said.

'Nice,' said the toymaker once more. 'Everyone should have a bestest friend. And a bear is as good as any to have. But this little bear is all but gone. Perhaps I should empty out his head and give him a complete refill.'

'No, please don't do that. He's Eddie, let him still be Eddie.'

'You really
do
care, don't you?'

'Very much,' said Jack.

'I'll leave his head alone then and just re-stuff the rest of him.'

'He needs a new growler,' said Jack.

'He's lost his growler? What a careless little bear.' The toymaker shook his kindly white-haired old head. 'Well, you go and sit yourself down in that comfy-looking chair and I'll see what I can do to save your Eddie.'

'Thank you, sir.' Jack took himself over to the comfy-looking chair and sat down upon it.

'You can't sit here,' said the chair.

'Oh,' said Jack, leaping up.

'Quiet, you,' the toymaker told the chair. 'He's my guest. Sit down again, my boy.'

‘Jack,' said Jack. 'My name is Jack.'

'There'll never be a shortage of Jacks in this city,' said the toymaker, and he set to work upon Eddie.

Jack sat down once more. The chair made a grumpy sound and did what it could to make itself uncomfortable.

Jack watched the toymaker at work.

So this was him: the man behind it all. The man who somehow brought toys to life. The man with the Big Secret. And here he was in his workshop, putting Eddie back together. And being so kindly and loveable and white-haired and everything.

And then it all hit Jack. All of a sudden. Like.

The toymaker didn't know, did he? He had no idea at all about what was going on out there in Toy City. He didn't know what a ghastly dystopia of a place it had become. He was all cosseted away here, guarded by the knocker on his front door.

'How are you doing?’ Jack asked the toymaker.

'It will take a bit of time. Perhaps you'd better come back in the morning.'

Jack thought about this, but, no, he had nowhere to go. He was a wanted man. The police were after him. And the wild woman with the winged hat. She'd probably know by now that he'd escaped,
and
stolen her car.

Til stay here, if you don't mind,' said Jack.

'Then get yourself some sleep,' said the toymaker. 'That chair is very comfortable.'

'Thanks,' said Jack as the chair made rocky fists beneath his bum. 'I am rather tired, as it happens. And rather hungry too, as that happens also.'

Til wake you for breakfast then,' said the toymaker.

What a nice man, thought Jack and, even with rocky fists under his bum, was very soon fast asleep.

Jack did not enjoy a lot of restful slumbering. Jack spent the night assailed by terrible dreams. And they really
were
terrible, filled with murder and mayhem and him running and running, pursued by all manner of monstrous nasties. Jack tossed and turned and fretted and mumbled and finally awoke to find that he had been thoughtfully covered by a colourful quilt, but had the silly big face of a bear grinning down at him.

'Waaah!' went Jack, leaping up.

'Easy, chap.' The silly big face vanished as Eddie Bear fell to the floor.

'Eddie, it's you. You're fixed.'

'I'm as good as.' Eddie fairly beamed.

Jack looked down at Eddie. Eddie looked up at Jack.

'Eddie,' said Jack.

‘Jack, chap?' said Eddie.

'Eddie,' said Jack. 'That isn't your voice.'

'New growler, chap,' said Eddie. 'Posh, ain't it?'

'Very posh,' said Jack. 'But I don't like the
chap
business.'

'Sorry, chap. I mean, sorry, Jack. And thank you. Thank you very much.'

'My pleasure,' said Jack. 'And oh, I smell breakfast.'

Jack and Eddie took their breakfast with the kindly loveable white-haired old toymaker. It was a banquet of a breakfast; a belly-busting beano; a guzzling gourmand's groaning-board blowout. It consisted, amongst other things, of creamed crad, honeyed ham, devilled dumplings and grilled greengages, not to mention the sauteed salmon, spiced spinach, parboiled pumpkin and peppered persimmon. Nor indeed, the caramelised carrots or the fricasseed frog.

And during the course of this eclectic and alliterative breakfast, Jack did his best to engage the toymaker in conversation.

'Sir,' said Jack, 'I'm so very grateful to you for saving my friend. If I had any money, then I'd gladly pay you. But if there is anything I can do for you, please tell me and I'll do it.'

'There isn't,' said the toymaker, munching on marinated mallard.

'Anything at all,' said Jack, toying with his tenderised tit.

'Nothing,' said the toymaker, skilfully spearing stuffed starfish with his filigreed fork.

'I'm very good with clockwork.' Jack diddled with a deep-fried dogfish. 'I was apprenticed.'

'Where?' the toymaker asked as he pursued a pickled pea around his plate.

Jack told him where.

The toymaker raised a snowy eyebrow. 'And you left there to come to the city?'

'It's a long story,' said Jack, 'but if there's anything I can do... if you need an apprentice or an assembler or—'

Eddie kicked Jack under the table.

'When I've finished the work I'm presently engaged in, of course.' Jack scooped up and swallowed a sliver of scuffled sugar beet.

'And what work is that?' asked the toymaker.

'I'm—'

Eddie kicked Jack again.

'Ouch,' said Jack and he glared at Eddie.

Eddie put his paw up to his mouth and made shushing sounds.

The toymaker looked from Jack to Eddie and then back at Jack once more.

'It's lowly work,' said Jack. 'Compared to what you do, it's absolutely nothing.'

'I don't consider what I do to be work.' The toy-maker pushed a portion of potted plums onto his plate. 'What I do is fun and games. Everything I do is fun and games. The fun for me is in the game. The game is in the fun.'

'Right,' said Jack, 'but, sir—'

'Call me Anders,' said the toymaker. 'Anders Anders is my name.'

'Mr Anders, then. Can I ask you a question?'

'I don't know,' said Anders Anders,
'can
you?'

'May
I ask you a question?'

'You may.'

'Then please will you tell me, how is it done?'

'How is what done?'

'The toys, how do you bring them to life?'

'You can't ask
that.'
Eddie, whose face was full of flambeed flamingo, spat much of it all over Jack.

'Steady on,' said Jack, wiping himself.

'You can't ask Mr Anders
thatl
Bad chap!'

'He can,' said Mr Anders. 'He can ask.'

'Then how
do
you do it?'

'I said you could ask. I didn't say that I would tell you.'

'And so you won't?'

Mr Anders shook his kindly loveable white-haired old head. 'No,' he said.

'Then please just tell me this,' said Jack. 'Is it magic?'

The toymaker shook his head once more. 'Not magic,' he said. 'Science. And that is all I will say. One day I may well take on an apprentice. And one day, perhaps, that apprentice will be you. But not today and not for a long time yet to come. So, for now, would you care for some more of this frazzled falafel?'

'Yes please,' said Jack.

'Me too,' said Eddie. 'And another of those bevelled brownies.'

When the breakfasting was finally done with and Jack and Eddie, big-bellied both, bade the toymaker farewell, Jack offered his hand and the ancient fellow shook it.

'I'm very grateful, sir,' said Jack. 'I really truly am.’

‘Anders,' said Anders Anders. 'Just call me Anders.’

‘Thank you, Anders,' said Jack. 'I am deeply grateful.’

‘That goes for me too, chap,' said Eddie. 'Chap,
sir.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.'

'Look after each other,' said the toymaker. 'And be good.'

The door closed upon them. 'And don't come back,' said the carved face of Peter upon it.

'Well,' said Jack. 'Wasn't he the nice one.'

'A regular gent,' said Eddie.

'You know I'm sure that if we'd asked him nicely, he'd have seen his way clear to fitting you out with opposable thumbs.'

'
Waaah!'
went Eddie.

'Waaah?' queried Jack.

'Waaah there,' Eddie pointed a paw with a non-opposable or any otherwise thumb. 'It's
her
car!
She's
here.'

'Calm down, Eddie,' said Jack. 'I stole the car.'

'Right,' said Eddie. 'Well done, chap.'

'Please stop it with the
chap
thing.'

'I can't help it. It's the new growler. It'll wear in, bear with me.'

Jack laughed.

'Why are you laughing?'

'You said bear with me. And you're a bear.'

'That is
very
sad,' said Eddie.

'You're the same old Eddie,' said Jack. 'Shall we go?'

'We shall,' said Eddie.

'And where to?'

'Back to the serial killer's hideout. We'll stake the place out and then plan how we can capture her.'

'Ah,' said Jack. 'Ah.'

Jack drove the car and Eddie sat trying to fold his arms and look huff-full.

'Never made a note of the address,' said Eddie. 'How unprofessional is
that?'

'I was thinking of
you.
I just wanted to get you to the toymaker's.'

'Yeah, well.'

'How dare you "Yeah, well" me. I saved your life.'

'Yes, you did. And I'm very grateful. But we have to stop this thing.'

'You were right, though, Eddie. It's a woman.'

'I wasn't right,' said Eddie. 'Take a left here.'

Jack took a left. 'Why weren't you right?' he asked.

'Because she's
not
a woman.'

'Not
a woman? You're saying she's some kind of toy?'

'She's not a toy,'»said Eddie.

'Not a woman and not a toy? So what is she, Eddie?'

'I don't know,' said the bear. 'And that's what really worries me.'

'She's a woman,' said Jack. 'A very strange woman, I grant you, but she's a woman. I know what women look like and she looks like a woman.'

'But she doesn't smell like one,' said Eddie. 'Under the perfume, she doesn't smell like a woman. I've got a bear's nose.' Eddie tapped at that nose. 'My nose knows.'

'She's a woman,' said Jack.

'She's not,' said Eddie. 'Take a right.'

Jack took a right. 'Where are we going?' he asked.

'Back to Wibbly's,' said Eddie. 'I asked him to check out a few things for me. We'll see how he got on.'

Eventually they arrived at Wibbly's. Jack waited in the car while Eddie slid down Wibbly's ramp. Eddie returned and Eddie didn't look at all well. He flopped in the passenger seat and stared at the dashboard.

'What did he say?’ Jack asked.

'He didn't say anything.'

'He didn't find out anything?'

'No, Jack,' Eddie looked up at Jack. 'He didn't say anything because he couldn't say anything. Wibbly is all over the floor. Someone smashed him all to pieces.'

'No,' said Jack.

'We have to stop her,' said Eddie. 'Whatever she is, we have to stop her. Madame Goose was bad enough, but Wibbly was a close friend. This time it's personal.'

Jack stared out through the windscreen. 'We've got her car,' he said. 'Can't we trace her through the car?'

A smile broke out upon Eddie's face. 'Good one, Jack, chap,' he said. 'Let's have a go at that.'

The showrooms of the Clockwork Car Company were in the very best part of the city, just five doors down from
Oh Boy!.

The building itself was a magnificent affair and a description of its architectural splendours might well have filled several paragraphs, had anyone been in the mood to write them down. But if anyone had been in the mood, then that mood might well have been modified by the fact that the showrooms of the Clockwork Car Company were presently fiercely ablaze.

Jack leapt out of the car. Eddie leapt out with him. Clockwork fire-fighters were unrolling hoses. Crowds viewed the holocaust, oohing and ahhing. Jolly red-faced policemen held back these crowds, ha-ha-hahing as they did so. A crenellated column toppled and fell, striking the pavement with a devastating sprunch.

'She got here first,' said Jack. 'She's very thorough, isn't she?'

'Very,' said Eddie. 'Very thorough.'

Jack gawped up at the roaring flames.

'Eddie,' he said.

‘Jack?' said Eddie.

'Eddie, if she's that thorough, then she knew we'd come here, didn't she?'

Eddie nodded.

'And would I be right in thinking that she probably wants to kill us now?'

Eddie nodded again.

'So doesn't it follow that she'd probably be here? Awaiting our arrival?'

'Back into the car,' said Eddie. 'Quick as you can, please, chap.'

And quick as they could, they were back in the car.

'Drive?' said Jack.

'Drive,' said Eddie. 'No, don't drive.'

'Don't?' said Jack.

'Don't,' said Eddie. 'That's exactly what she wants us to do.'

'It's exactly what
I
want us to do,' said Jack. 'And fast.'

'Exactly. So that's exactly what we mustn't do. If we make a run for it, she'll come after us. We must stay here amongst all these folk. She's less likely to attack us here.'

'A vanload of policemen didn't worry her too much last night,' said Jack.

'Well, unless you can come up with a better idea.'

'There's policemen here,' said Jack. 'And the police are after me. They think I'm the murderer.'

'Forget about the policemen,' Eddie said. 'Worry about her. We can't have her hunting us. That's not the way detectives do business. It's unprofessional. Bill Winkie would never have let that happen. We're going about this all the wrong way.'

'Well done,' said Jack.

'It just makes sense,' said Eddie.

'No I didn't mean that. I meant that you got seven whole sentences out without once calling me chap.'

'Let's go and watch the fire,
in the crowd,'
said Eddie. 'Chap!'

It's a sad-but-truism that there really is a great deal of pleasure to be had in watching a building burn. There shouldn't be, of course. A burning building is a terrible thing: the destruction of property, the potential for loss of life. There shouldn't be any pleasure at all in watching a thing like that. But there is. And every man knows that there is, not that many of them will own up to it.

It's a small boy thing, really. Small boys love fires. They love starting and nurturing fires, poking things into them, seeing how they burn. Small boys are supposed to grow out of such small boy things when they become big boys, of course. But they don't. The bigger the boy, the bigger the fire the bigger boy likes to get started.

And when bigger boys become men, they never lose their love of fire. They can always find something that needs burning in the backyard.

And when a man hears the ringing of those fire engine bells, the temptation to jump into the car and pursue the appliance is a tough one to resist.

And if a man just happens to be walking down the street and actually sees a building on fire... Well.

Jack stared up at the flames.

'What a tragedy,' he said.

'What a liar you are,' said Eddie. 'You're loving every moment.'

'No I'm not.'

'Then why were you jumping up and down and cheering?'

'Was I?’ Jack asked.

'You were,' said Eddie. 'Bad, bad chap.'

'It's a small boy thing,' Jack explained. 'You wouldn't understand.'

'I certainly wouldn't,' said Eddie. 'I'm full of sawdust, remember?'

'Sorry,' said Jack. 'So what about your plan?'

'We hunted are going to become the hunters. Merge into the crowd with me, Jack, and keep your eyes open for her.'

It wasn't that easy for Jack to merge into the crowd. Most of the crowd were about Eddie's height.

'Perhaps you should crawl,' Eddie suggested.

'Oh, very dignified.'

'She might well have you in the sights of some long-range gun type of item. Of the variety capable of projecting a shepherd's crook across a street and right up Boy Blue's bottom.'

Jack dropped to his knees. 'After you,' he said.

Above them the inferno 'ferno'd on, watched by the crowd of toys who, for various personal reasons, didn't really enjoy the spectacle the way it should be enjoyed.

The clockwork fire-fighters had their hoses all unrolled now, but were decidedly hesitant about turning them on. Being clockwork, they greatly feared water.

'Ho, ho, ho,' went the laughing policemen. Jack tried to keep out of their way.

Eddie stopped and thumped at his head with his paws. 'I've an idea coming,' he said.