decided to try again, only this time instead of walking he ran. The belt altered direction quicker this time, soon caught up and returned him once more to his starting point, gasping, out of breath, and regretting his lack of exercise back home - the sudden thought of which made him realise how absorbed he’d become since arriving in Get Lucky, and how little he’d missed home.
After recovering his breath, he decided to step backwards twenty paces, and this time hit the walkway at speed. With luck he could get to the other end before it caught up to him.
This time he made it about half-way when the walkway once again out accelerated him, almost knocking him off his feet and accidentally spinning him around as it did so. Accepting defeat, he started walking back the way the walkway was now taking him only to find it slowing down, stopping, then reversing. Now, as he walked back to where he started, the walkway was finally taking him to where he wanted to go, even stopping and allowing him to step off the end outside the door to the garden shed.
Putting the walkway behind him, Shylock turned and examined the small rustic out-house in front of him. Above the doorway hung a small wooden plaque - ‘Infinite Resources Inc.’ - and across the door another sign (this time written in a barely decipherable scratchy handwriting) declared - ‘Closed due to lack of business.’
Approaching the door - which although old, seemed to be in good repair - Shylock could hear voices inside and, deciding to ignore the sign, he knocked anyway. Receiving no response, he formed his knuckles and was about to bring them down on the door for the second time when someone spoke to him. Well, it wasn’t so much that they spoke to him, it was more like he could feel the words on his knuckles. ‘Can’t you read!’ the feeling proclaimed, with an annoyed throb. ‘I said - Closed due to lack of business.’
‘Who…where…are you?’ Shylock asked, massaging his knuckles and looking around for the source of feeling.
‘Fascinating,’ replied the feeling, now amused. ‘He can look but cannot see.’
‘Yes, yes, very clever,’ replied Shylock, now also rather annoyed. ‘So where are you?’
‘Right in front of you, and about to be ignored by you if I hadn’t interrupted.’
Shylock frowned. ‘You’re a sign?’
‘Oh, well done!! Right first time, how clever,’ the voice felt cynically. ‘And, I’m not hanging here for my own amusement. I’m supposed to be providing useful information, and shouldn’t be ignored out of hand …or should I say knuckle in your case.’
‘But, I didn’t ignore you,’ Shylock explained, thoughtfully. ‘I read your very helpful instruction, and after careful consideration recognised it as inappropriate in my case. You see, I am a potential customer.’
‘CUSTOMER!!!’ the sign felt, knocking Shylock backwards and off his feet with its strength of feeling. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so. My, but we haven’t had one of you for…let me see…well, I don’t really know, but it must be simply such an ever-so-long while. Come in please, do come in.’
As Shylock climbed to his feet, the door to the garden shed swung smoothly open allowing the voices inside to drift out towards him. ‘Full stomach beats three pair,’ someone was saying.
Dusting himself off, Shylock hesitantly entered the doorway, realising that nothing in this crazy world ever seemed to be what it looked like, and yet was still surprised at what he saw. It was a garden shed! Forks, spades and other garden tools hung on a rack on the nearest wall on the left. A wheelbarrow leant against the far corner and sacks of what looked like potatoes were stacked neatly against the opposite wall. A wonderfully familiar earthy smell jogged his memory, again reminding him of home.
It was only after a few moments taking everything in that Shylock realised how quiet the shed had become. Suddenly self conscious, he shuffled his feet and almost whispered a hello.
‘Yes,’ replied a voice from above.
Shylock looked up and gasped. Instead of the peaked shed roof he would have anticipated, the roof was quite flat and covered with a beautifully woven rug upon which sat a small, square folding table with a green baize covering, and three chairs. Although each of the three chairs were occupied, his attention was drawn unbidden towards the small green dragon who sat with two hind legs on one of the chairs, his long scaly tail folded neatly underneath. It’s eyes glowed fire-engine red underneath heavy drooping eyelids, and the long snout ended with two flourishing nostrils out of which drifted a small plume of smoke. He held a dozen playing cards in front of him, pierced by long sharp talons.
‘Can we help you?’ the dragon repeated, rather impatiently. Clearly resenting the interruption to their game.
‘Yes, I hope so,’ replied Shylock, quickly taking in the other players. Next to the dragon, on his right, sat a cloud of ever-changing colour, vaguely reminding him of a tyre advertisement back home. Next to that a large number one – like a candle for a birthday cake - hovered some twelve inches above the third chair.
Shylock summoned up such courage as he could find and blurted out why he had interrupted their game. ‘I’ve come to ask if you could build me a door?’ he explained, wondering - as he formed the as yet unspoken words - if he was betraying Bb. If he could just get out of this place, Bb could take care of Change himself he told himself. So, refusing to feel remorse, he told himself. Look after yourself, cause no-one else will.
‘I see, and have you money?’ asked the dragon, bluntly - but to Shylock’s relief, in a slightly more friendly voice.
‘Yes,’ replied Shylock, with as much assurance as he could muster - not at all sure how much a new door would cost, and having already used – and lost – the only money he had with him. Then, detecting a reluctance from his hosts as if they could read his thoughts, he added. ‘And I can pay a good price…no credit cards – in cash,’ he added, remembering Bb’s propensity for profits and wondering if perhaps everyone in this world thought the same way. It’s just a little white-lie, he told himself. Just a little one. If I get home I’ll return with cash. Already, he realised, he was even lying to himself.
The Dragon curled his lips and bared his sharp rows of teeth. Shylock shivered, realising that his host was attempting to smile. ‘Maybe I should introduce myself …and my colleagues,’ he said. ‘You may have heard of me as the Elements, you know…Earth, Wind and Fire…that sort of thing. I used to include Water, but he ran off to do his own thing in some new rock band or other.’
‘Wet, wet, wet - I believe,’ puffed the cloud. ‘That’s what they called themselves,’ he explained, seeing the confused look on Shylock’s face. ‘They’ll never do much, I’ve heard them play. The market’s saturated with their kind of music. You mark my words, Water will be washed up and back with us before you know it.’
‘Thank you for sharing that with us,’ scowled the Dragon, his tail twitching beneath the table. ‘Now, where was I …oh yes, introductions. Well, the music critic here is Mass, and as you can see at the moment, he is a little out of sorts - not critical though,’ he added, tail back in place now he was once more in control. ‘And opposite here is One and Absolute Zero' the dragon said, indicating the hovering One. 'Just we four. And now you know who we are, may I ask to whom I am speaking?’
Shylock introduced himself, then still confused, asked where exactly Absolute zero was?
‘Oh that’s easy,’ blew the cloud, Mass. Absolute zero is underneath One, of course you can't see her. And together they make Infinity, which is their nickname, but when they play cards, they have a hand each of course.
‘You mean One is sitting on Absolute Zero?’
‘Well, you don’t think I’m sitting in mid-air, do you?’ Infinity chipped in.
‘Eeerr, no, of course not,’ stuttered Shylock, massaging the back of his neck to relieve the tension from looking upwards all the time.
‘Yes well, enough mathematics Mass. You’ll confuse our customer,’ cut in the Dragon. ‘Now let’s see, what kind of door had you in mind? Large, small, rotating, invisible…we have an infinite rang
e in stock you know.’
Shylock admitted that he hadn’t thought about what kind of door, only what it would be used for – accessing his home world.
‘What!’ they all cried at the same time. ‘World! You’re from one of the older times or earlier dimensions?’ the cloud retorted, leaving the question billowing in the air above Shylock’s head.
Sensing not only their surprise, but also growing respect, Shylock proceeded to tell them how he had entered this world by mistake, carefully minimising the mention of Bb’s shop. Then explaining that when he had tried to return he couldn’t find the door, and that Bb had suggested coming to Infinite Resource Inc.. Not quite true, but close enough he thought to himself. Just a little white-lie.
‘I see,’ said the Dragon. ‘We’ve had many a dealing with Bb. He’s an okay kind of guy, and if he says we should help you, then help you we shall. So you want an inter-dimensional door, with an other-worldly option?’
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Shylock replied, hopefully sounding as if he new what they meant.
‘Excuse us for a moment,’ said the Dragon. ‘We need to confer a little.’
While the members of Infinite Resources Inc. discussed the possibility of supplying his requirement, Shylock used the time to lower his chin and massage both sides of the back of his neck – digging his