A Stranger Calls - extract 1 of Time Sphere
England, about now
“Ouch . . . Stop! Stop it you furry monster!”
I sat cross-legged on my bed, having finished with homework. Jester, intrigued by the 10 little grey mice at the end of my feet, pounced. His claws went right through my socks.
“Ow.”
I pushed the cat onto the floor but he jumped straight back and started washing himself. I continued sorting out my notes for my English Project.
The doorbell rang. "Mum! Mum!” No reply, so taking a deep breath, I shouted, “Muuum . . . It's the door."
I waited. The doorbell rang again and echoed through the silent house. Actually, I could hear something; faint strains of violins wailed classical something or others from Juliette's bedroom. Why my sister didn't just wear earphones remained a mystery. The loud music gave her the perfect excuse for not answering the door though.
"Mum!" I tried again, shouting even louder, before remembering that she had gone across to the library. I padded down the stairs, jumped the last four steps and landed more noisily and painfully than intended. I opened the front door.
"Good evening my friend!”
A young man stood there. He had spiky dark hair, a little moustache painted on his face, and a black jacket with bits hanging down to the back of his knees, like someone at a posh wedding. He wore white gloves and ridiculously shiny shoes.
"Er, hello."
"May I enquire, is the lady of the house at home, or indeed your esteemed pater?"
He didn’t look dangerous to me, but you never know. Whatever they are that begins with the syllable ‘pea’, and threatens children, come in all shapes and sizes; though I must admit, I never imagined one with a little black moustache. Unless it was Hitler of course.
"No, um that is, they’ll be back any moment. Can I help you?"
"That's very kind of you. I am collecting signatures, but they have to be from the householder. We are trying to save the local bandstand. The council wants to bulldoze it and put some awful leisure centre there. It’s historic and, as I suppose you know young sir, we do little entertainments under its ancient roof, throughout the summer. Here’s my card."
He slowly held up his empty gloved hand. He showed it on both sides and then proceeded to produce a business card out of thin air. He held it out to me.
“Wow!” I reached for it a little gingerly. “Are you a magician then?”
“Not really,” he replied, flicking the card up in the air, where it promptly vanished and appeared in his other hand. He held it out again.
I took it, thanked him, and put it in my trouser pocket.
“How’d you do that?” I asked, my voice sounding a bit loud in my head.
“Ah, now, that would be telling wouldn’t it.” He held up a clipboard. “It’s quite tiring walking the streets, though I have a goodly number of signatures."
He swayed a bit and his eyes lost focus. I was about to ask if he wanted a glass of water, when a long, straight walking stick appeared in his hand. He lent on it.
"That's better." He smiled at me and I noticed how blue his eyes were, bluer even than Mum's. He flourished his stick and it turned into a snake that disappeared slowly up his sleeve. I’d never seen that trick before and could feel giggles developing inside. My shoulders crept up towards my ears.
Perhaps he sensed my discomfort because he stepped back until he reached the gate to our tiny front garden.
"Have you noticed?" he said. He pointed up the street towards the railway line at the end. There above the trees hung a huge yellow full moon.
"People say when it looks that big, it’s an illusion, but I don't know. It looks real to me! Thank you anyway, young man. I might come back to see your parents later, if that's OK?"
I didn’t answer, because the moon was, well, actually . . . enormous. I’d never seen it so big. I stared up our road at it for a moment or two before I remembered my manners. I turned to answer the strangely dressed guy, but he wasn’t there.
I couldn't believe my eyes. He’d just gone. Even if he had run, he would’ve barely made the corner as I turned.
A small black and white dog, scrabbled about chasing its tail, a little way down the pavement. It stopped. It looked at me or possibly the moon, barked a couple of times and then ran down the road towards the park and disappeared around the corner. I’d no idea where it had come from or if it belonged to the strange guy who seemed to have just vanished.
Moments later Mum appeared at the same corner.
"I thought you were doing your course-work, Rhory. Remember, we are off to London tomorrow. Why are you out on the street and why aren’t you wearing shoes?”
“Someone rang the doorbell. You must’ve seen him. He was dressed like … well like someone at a wedding. You must’ve passed him coming back from the library, didn't you? And there was a small dog."
"I don't think so dear. No, I would have noticed a man in a morning suit with a dog, I'm sure. Goodness, you look pale Rhory. Are you O.K.?”
“You must have. He was right here.” I nearly stamped my foot.
Mum smiled her, ‘you’re having me on again Rhory,’ smile.
“He gave me a card, actually," I said, a little too loud, and reached into my trouser pocket, where I found only a broken pencil. I tried the other pocket. The card took a bit of extracting as it had fused to a half-sucked boiled sweet, wrapped in a bit of Kleenex that had in turn welded itself to my pocket.
Finally I retrieved it.
“Look Mum,” I said, waving the card. But Mum had also disappeared and I could hear her calling up to Juliette inside the house. I read the card. On one side it said simply:
Caduceus Productions
On the other it said:
Magic, Mystery and Illusion
we are at your service
There was no name or phone number.
“Ouch . . . Stop! Stop it you furry monster!”
I sat cross-legged on my bed, having finished with homework. Jester, intrigued by the 10 little grey mice at the end of my feet, pounced. His claws went right through my socks.
“Ow.”
I pushed the cat onto the floor but he jumped straight back and started washing himself. I continued sorting out my notes for my English Project.
The doorbell rang. "Mum! Mum!” No reply, so taking a deep breath, I shouted, “Muuum . . . It's the door."
I waited. The doorbell rang again and echoed through the silent house. Actually, I could hear something; faint strains of violins wailed classical something or others from Juliette's bedroom. Why my sister didn't just wear earphones remained a mystery. The loud music gave her the perfect excuse for not answering the door though.
"Mum!" I tried again, shouting even louder, before remembering that she had gone across to the library. I padded down the stairs, jumped the last four steps and landed more noisily and painfully than intended. I opened the front door.
"Good evening my friend!”
A young man stood there. He had spiky dark hair, a little moustache painted on his face, and a black jacket with bits hanging down to the back of his knees, like someone at a posh wedding. He wore white gloves and ridiculously shiny shoes.
"Er, hello."
"May I enquire, is the lady of the house at home, or indeed your esteemed pater?"
He didn’t look dangerous to me, but you never know. Whatever they are that begins with the syllable ‘pea’, and threatens children, come in all shapes and sizes; though I must admit, I never imagined one with a little black moustache. Unless it was Hitler of course.
"No, um that is, they’ll be back any moment. Can I help you?"
"That's very kind of you. I am collecting signatures, but they have to be from the householder. We are trying to save the local bandstand. The council wants to bulldoze it and put some awful leisure centre there. It’s historic and, as I suppose you know young sir, we do little entertainments under its ancient roof, throughout the summer. Here’s my card."
He slowly held up his empty gloved hand. He showed it on both sides and then proceeded to produce a business card out of thin air. He held it out to me.
“Wow!” I reached for it a little gingerly. “Are you a magician then?”
“Not really,” he replied, flicking the card up in the air, where it promptly vanished and appeared in his other hand. He held it out again.
I took it, thanked him, and put it in my trouser pocket.
“How’d you do that?” I asked, my voice sounding a bit loud in my head.
“Ah, now, that would be telling wouldn’t it.” He held up a clipboard. “It’s quite tiring walking the streets, though I have a goodly number of signatures."
He swayed a bit and his eyes lost focus. I was about to ask if he wanted a glass of water, when a long, straight walking stick appeared in his hand. He lent on it.
"That's better." He smiled at me and I noticed how blue his eyes were, bluer even than Mum's. He flourished his stick and it turned into a snake that disappeared slowly up his sleeve. I’d never seen that trick before and could feel giggles developing inside. My shoulders crept up towards my ears.
Perhaps he sensed my discomfort because he stepped back until he reached the gate to our tiny front garden.
"Have you noticed?" he said. He pointed up the street towards the railway line at the end. There above the trees hung a huge yellow full moon.
"People say when it looks that big, it’s an illusion, but I don't know. It looks real to me! Thank you anyway, young man. I might come back to see your parents later, if that's OK?"
I didn’t answer, because the moon was, well, actually . . . enormous. I’d never seen it so big. I stared up our road at it for a moment or two before I remembered my manners. I turned to answer the strangely dressed guy, but he wasn’t there.
I couldn't believe my eyes. He’d just gone. Even if he had run, he would’ve barely made the corner as I turned.
A small black and white dog, scrabbled about chasing its tail, a little way down the pavement. It stopped. It looked at me or possibly the moon, barked a couple of times and then ran down the road towards the park and disappeared around the corner. I’d no idea where it had come from or if it belonged to the strange guy who seemed to have just vanished.
Moments later Mum appeared at the same corner.
"I thought you were doing your course-work, Rhory. Remember, we are off to London tomorrow. Why are you out on the street and why aren’t you wearing shoes?”
“Someone rang the doorbell. You must’ve seen him. He was dressed like … well like someone at a wedding. You must’ve passed him coming back from the library, didn't you? And there was a small dog."
"I don't think so dear. No, I would have noticed a man in a morning suit with a dog, I'm sure. Goodness, you look pale Rhory. Are you O.K.?”
“You must have. He was right here.” I nearly stamped my foot.
Mum smiled her, ‘you’re having me on again Rhory,’ smile.
“He gave me a card, actually," I said, a little too loud, and reached into my trouser pocket, where I found only a broken pencil. I tried the other pocket. The card took a bit of extracting as it had fused to a half-sucked boiled sweet, wrapped in a bit of Kleenex that had in turn welded itself to my pocket.
Finally I retrieved it.
“Look Mum,” I said, waving the card. But Mum had also disappeared and I could hear her calling up to Juliette inside the house. I read the card. On one side it said simply:
Caduceus Productions
On the other it said:
Magic, Mystery and Illusion
we are at your service
There was no name or phone number.
