Chapter 15
Ashden hurled himself at the school gate, flinging his legs up and over the wire. She’ll be all right, he repeated, I’ll just go back and get her out. She’s probably waiting at the fig, but his gut twisted the hope into knots. The bell still hadn’t rung and the place was deserted. He took Eskatoria in hand ready to enter the gateway.
A pellet suddenly shot into the back of his head. Another smacked his cheek as he turned around to locate the assailant. Oscar Rindman and Mark Findle were in full charge, pelting him with fig tree ammo. He covered his face and made a quick calculation to see whether he could make the gateway before they got him. Hopeful, Ashden dived towards the forked roots, arms outstretched. But his feet were tagged, sending him off course. Oscar clambered over to pin him down, wrestling Ashden’s arms to his sides.
“Let me go!” Ashden choked, struggling with all his weakened teenage might, but was no match for the sinewy Oscar.
“Now what do we have here?” Oscar grabbed the monkey and held it above his head. “I don’t think you’ve introduced us to your new best friend? Oh he’s a cutie, he is. I heard you having a lovely chat to him this morning right here under this tree. Who else were you talking to?”
“No one, there was no one. Get off me!” He shook his body.
“You’re lying, I heard someone, a girl. Where is she?” Oscar’s tone became hard.
“No one, I was just talking… to the toy,” he pleaded.
“Mark, do you believe him? I don’t believe him. I know what I heard.”
“Here grab this!” Oscar flung Eskatoria to Mark who missed and picked her up off the dirt. “Do you think we can get Banksy Baby to talk?”
“Don’t be stupid!” Ashden shouted.
Oscar’s chest swelled. He shoved Ashden’s head into the ground with one hand while reaching for his back pocket with the other. Ashden seized his chance and heaved Oscar’s chest. There was a flailing of arms and bodies rolling about under the fig until Ashden managed to slip free and bolt to Mark. Mark threw the monkey over his head back to Oscar who was still a good catch even on his back. And with one tightening fist he squeezed Eskatoria. With the other, he grabbed her furry head, wrenching it off in a violent twist.
Ashden yelled but his body was paralysed. The roots of the fig tree straddling Oscar swelled unseen, bulging and trapping his head in its wedge. From above an overarching branch released a smooth flow of bark from its underside which poured like brown toothpaste over his chest, dividing over his sides like an external rib cage. Oscar froze, emitting one short high pitched scream as the entire top half of his body became encased in a wooden prison.
Mark Findle turned tail and ran.
Adrenaline gushed lava-like from Ashden’s hands to his heels and he raced in, grabbing Oscar by the feet and pulling. He couldn’t make him budge so turned to the viscous limbs and heaved at them. In their pliable state they stretched just enough for Oscar to wriggle down. His hair caught in the swollen roots and the burn of detaching strands made him howl.
“Hurry!” Ashden gasped, tugging at the wood.
Oscar finally pulled his head free from the cage where Ashden saw Eskatoria lying in pieces. He plunged his hand through the wooden ribs to snatch her free, then leapt back in time to watch the trunk swell and solidify on the ground.
It was gone.
The gateway had disappeared under the newly buttressed roots of the fig.
Oscar and Ashden stared aghast at the tree. With mechanical precision, they turned to face each other.
Oscar’s face was white but the way he pumped his feet on the ground brought a stain of colour back.
“I know, I don’t expect you to believe me,” Ashden said.
They were a safe distance from the fig now but Oscar still looked rattled, his blond hair sticking out at odd angles and his eyes overly round. He took a few jogging steps and checked there was no-one nearby. He bounced on the balls of his feet then gave in and swung back to face Ashden. “Let me just get this straight,” he said. “You want me to believe that that tree attacked me because I killed a toy in its territory? What, it’s a pacifist or something?”
Ashden shrugged in agreement, wondering what had possessed him to say anything. If Oscar hadn’t kept asking why as if he really wanted to know, he wouldn’t have bothered. Was he expecting the guy to change?
Oscar continued, “So I’m supposed to believe you even though you’re the greatest psycho in this town? You can’t prove it, can you?” he asked disdainfully. “If it wasn’t for what you did back there, I’d knock your teeth in right now.”
“Whatever.”
“You know what I think? I think that tree just sent down some branch at the wrong time. It’s so old and so big, that’s probably just how it grows. I was in the way. I mean look at all those roots! So, yeah, I reckon it was just coincidence. There’ll be something about it on the Net for sure.”
“Well go and look it up then.”
Oscar stared at Ashden. The computations in his head weren’t adding up and Oscar was finding it hard to remember where he and Ashden stood with each other. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Who was with you this morning?”
Ashden spread his fingers over his face and pushed, trying to relieve the pressure behind his eyes. “It was Elanora Lacey.”
“Who’s that?” Oscar quizzed.
“In year seven.”
“What school?”
Ashden was puzzled. “Our school; year seven.”
“No she’s not. As if I wouldn’t know.”
“Yes, with long red hair. Blue eyes.”
“Nup… Sorry Banksy, crazy again! There is no girl and there is no living toy loving killer tree. But if you want me to test that theory,” he added, “why don’t you bring another toy in tomorrow?”
“And you can bring your friend Mark again. Couldn’t leave your best mate out of it.”
Oscar’s eyes flashed and his fists balled. “They were right what they said about you and mental Johnson,” he yelled back over his shoulder as he ran off to settle a score.
“And a thanks might be nice!” Ashden rubbed his neck and walked back down to the fig where the roots had folded over the gateway. He sat on the wood. He took Eskatoria from his pocket and stroked her broken pieces. There was no magical transportation.
Nothing.
How was he ever going to get into the tunnels again?
And Elanora.
How would she ever get out?