Chapter 25
“Mr Johnson?” Ashden asked, his face reddening at the obvious discomfort his appearance was causing.
Mr Johnson’s lips parted then shut. Ashden stepped further into the room which only sent his old teacher pressing further back into his bed, fearfully raising his sheet.
“It’s all right Mr Johnson, it’s only me. I came to see if you were okay. It’s been such a long time and I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
The old man blinked and lowered the sheet a fraction ready to reef it back should any blows come his way. Perhaps it was madness, after all, thought Ashden.
“You’re not hurt?” Mr Johnson squeaked.
“No I’m fine, I always have been.”
“You still go into the Timefold?”
Ashden stopped. “The what?”
Mr Johnson’s eye twitched. “The Timefold.”
“You never told me what it was called.” Ashden felt a flush of something close to anger but let it go. “Yes, I’ve spent ages there,” he said.
“So you’re all right then?” Mr Johnson said with unreadable eyes.
“I’m perfectly fine.”
“And you came to talk? Why?” he asked, once again tugging nervously on his sheet.
“I need help and you’re the only one who can help me. I got someone into trouble and now I need to save her. I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”
Mr Johnson sniffed the air and his entire countenance changed. He dropped the sheet from his face and his eyes brightened.
“Come here, Ash, it’s marvellous to see you, my boy, simply marvellous. What a relief!” he grabbed Ashden around the shoulders in a hearty one armed hug. “Oh, I feared I’d never see you again. What a relief! Ashden, how is the Timefold? Is it safe?”
Ashden was the one to now shift uncomfortably.
“Tell me, did you meet that old bear?” he persisted, avoiding Ashden’s eyes and holding his breath for the answer.
“What bear?”
“The one I warned you about before you went in?” Mr Johnson’s voice rose noticeably louder.
Ashden sat on the edge of his bed. “You never mentioned a bear. You never mentioned anything much, to be honest.” Again Ashden stemmed a rising irritation.
Mr Johnson paled as his mind shuffled through the memories. “Did you see any of them?”
“Any of who?”
Mr Johnson glanced furtively out the window. “The animals,” he whispered.
Ashden sighed. “Yes, and that’s why I’m here! A friend of mine is stuck in there. In the Timefold. And I’m afraid they’ll will find her.”
Mr Johnson made a silent oh and closed his lips, nodding as he digested the news. A glimmer of hope lit his eyes. He pushed himself up in the bed becoming more animated. “Now tell me about your friend.”
“I met her at school. Her name’s Elanora and she’s like us. But she’s more than that. She creates life in toys all the time. And not just toys, every pet she has is alive. She doesn’t even know she’s doing it.”
Mr Johnson’s mouth went dry. “Ah, a Soulmaker like that is special indeed.” His face drained of colour and he gulped. “Where is she now?”
“I took her into the tunnels just for a look around but when we went to leave she jumped out of the gateway at the last second and she never came back out.”
“Oh! That’s very bad,” Mr Johnson shook his head. His face unreadable once more.
“When I tried to get back, a guy from school started fighting me right on the gateway, under the fig,” Ashden paused to take Eskatoria out of his bag, “Then he did this,” and he showed him the torn pieces, “and the tree came alive and tried to kill him.”
“My, that’s very, very bad, although he was a dreadful boy to do such a thing.” His eyes shone like wet pebbles in a dry creek bed as he took the pieces, almost greedily, from Ashden’s hand. “At least there’s no blood. We can stitch her back up and she’ll be good as new. You said the girl has not come back out?” he asked, continuing to inspect the monkey but with half an eye on Ashden.
“Well now the worst thing is that I can’t get back in because the roots have spread all over the gateway.”
“No gateway? So your friend has lost her way out and we’ve lost our way in.” Mr Johnson stuck out his bottom lip in deep thought and tugged on his ear.
“While we were in there we found soulings that the animals had attacked and totally destroyed.”
“Soulings?”
“She called them soulings. The living toys. The replicas.”
“Oh,” he said. “No, not a good situation at all,” he continued, but with the merest hint of relief in his tone. “How well does she know the Timefold?”
“Hardly at all. We were only there a few hours.”
“Grim news, lad, very grim.” His fingers became agitated. “Pass me that plastic tub there, will you?” he said in an almost singsong tone.
He reached in and took out a needle and thread and while they talked he sewed Eskatoria back together again.
“Ash, we’ve got to work on getting back to the Timefold to find out if she is alive… That’s so true, it certainly is a striking garden. I’m particularly fond of the oaks. Oaks are very nice.”
Ashden looked up puzzled at the sudden turn of conversation. Mr Johnson had hidden the toy under the covers and lay calmly on the bed with a blank expression on his face.
“It’s almost time for lunch, Mr Johnson,” she said, giving Ashden a sharp stare. “Everything all right?”
“Yes, he likes the garden. I couldn’t take him for a walk, could I?”
“Absolutely not, he’s not in any condition for such a thing. I think you’ve already stayed long enough. Say goodbye and then out you go.” She spun on her heel, but before she left she turned her head, “Has he given you the money?” and stared boldly at Ashden until Mr Johnson said, “Yes, yes, a good deal.”
Ashden rolled his eyes at the matron as she left. Mr Johnson nodded and tsk tsked.
“What are we going to do?” Ashden asked.
“There may be hope. Replicas only came into existence since toys were invented. Soft toys, you know the type of course. Over time they seem to grow more and more...alive, shall we say. What if we could find one dating back to those early years? Imagine its strength? It may be just what we need, combined with the power of the two of us, to open up another gateway under the fig. After all it can’t be gone forever. It might just need coaxing.”
Ashden’s lips parted in a smile. “I may be able to help with that. But how will you get out of here? Are you allowed to leave? Can you even walk? I haven’t even asked how your health is.”
Mr Johnson’s face wrinkled as it closed over his thoughts. A moment later it relaxed and he grinned. “Lad, I’m as fit as a fiddle, don’t you worry about that. Matron thinks I’m medicated to the hilt, but I’m not,” he whisked his legs out from the covers and hopped awkwardly over to the shelf. He took down a book and opened the cover revealing an assortment of pills as colourful as a candy bowl, hiding in the cut out pages. “While I’m not strictly allowed to leave,” he said conspiratorially while closing the cover. “I have the means at my disposal. The only thing stopping me has been…” he sucked in his lips again and popped them out, “you.”