Chapter 4
Bloated blue dumpsters dotted the laneway along with a few faded cars bogged in litter. The buildings were decomposing like dead men, with awnings either shredded or half suspended from tenuous metal threads. Their flesh and bones were gradually being stripped and fed to the hungry dumpsters. Ashden shivered as he passed their gaping mouths. The shop he sought was at the end of the lane beside a chewed up driveway that divided a wild thatch of bushes and ended at an enormous tree overshadowing the property.
A series of bells jingled on a string as an alert for the owner to appear. Although no-one did. Dust and stale air settled on him as it always did in these places, making him feel sluggish. There was the usual display of worn out figurines, household goods from decades past and piles of musty books and records. Stacks of collector magazines created an isle that ushered customers to more clumps of bric-a-brac. There were racks of sagging clothes and piles of dried out footwear. Everything was drab and lifeless. Eventually he spied a jumbled row of soft toys on the side wall and his eyes locked on them.
As he drew closer his face set hard in a mask of concentration. His eyes gleamed like steel in their sockets. A sparking energy built up in his gut and behind his forehead until it reached right into his optic nerve, shooting out as fractured light from his pupils straight into the glassy eyes of the stuffed toys on the shelf. He scanned each soft face with super natural focus.
The first and second held no sign of what he was looking for.
The third and fourth, equally disappointing.
The fifth, the sixth, he still hadn’t found one.
Neither the tenth nor eleventh were worth a second glance.
But the twelfth! In the twelfth he found exactly what he was looking for.
Power hummed from the heart of the toy and a weak beam of light from its scratched eyes connected with his. An arrow of sorrow shot into Ashden’s heart. His hardened eyes softened with tears as he grabbed the toy from the shelf and held it to his chest. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. It wasn’t that he hated the crying, it was part of the connection, but he always felt self-conscious about tears, wondering secretly whether it wasn’t because he really was too weak.
With the first one tucked under his arm he scanned for another. There was a barrel in the far corner full of toys nearly hidden under an enormous spray of artificial flowers. He plucked out the flowers and picked up each toy in turn, focusing his attention on their eyes. Sadness again shot into him at the moment his gaze was returned by the being, and he clutched at another saved soul. The rest made no impact on him and he was glad.
“Hello young man,” issued a crinkled female voice from behind the counter. “Found something you like?”
He jumped “Oh, yeah, I’ll take these, thanks.” Ashden wiped his eyes again; yes, the tears were definitely embarrassing. He kept the toys in his arms and dug for his wallet. “How much are they?”
“Love, if they mean that much to you, then how about you just take them. My gift. You look like you need some cheering up. And to be honest, it’s going to take more than your pocket money to pay my bills.” The old lady smiled and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a pink hanky. She reminded him of shortbread and painted china cups. “Now you take care, young man.”
“I will. Thanks.”
“Hold on, love, you might like this one too.” She shuffled behind a screen of purple beads into her private room and reappeared after a moment of rummaging with a faded penguin wearing a red scarf. Her hand shook slightly as she extended it, looking expectantly at Ashden. Its face was quite cute but Ashden wasn’t interested in cute. He turned his back on the old lady as if inspecting the penguin in the light of the window, all the while gazing into its eyes. By the thickness of her glasses he was pretty sure he needn’t have worried about privacy, but he didn’t like taking chances.
“It’s ok, but I’m fine with these.”
The old lady’s face fell and the hanky reappeared. “Oh, I thought you liked toys.”
Ashden hesitated. “Yeah I do. Actually, if it’s all right, I would like that one,” he said. “I just feel a bit bad not paying for it.”
“Oh don’t worry about that,” she brightened, stuffing her hanky back in her pocket. “It’ll do you no good in life to feel ashamed of things,” she added in a grandmotherly whisper. “Of course, this one’s my favourite.” She reached for an even older teddy bear sitting comfortably on an armchair behind the counter. He had well-worn tan fur with jointed limbs, a threadbare nose set high on his muzzle and a head skewed slightly to one side. But it was his eyes that drew Ashden in. Light bubbled out of his button black eyes beckoning Ashden’s own inner light to connect. This old bear sang into his heart, full of joy and contentment, not a trace of sorrow. He was almost worn out with love yet more alive than Ashden had ever encountered before.
“You like him too, I see,” she said, nodding approvingly. “It’s silly for an old woman like me to love a teddy bear so much isn’t it, love? But he’s always been my sweetie. Never did have a little one myself. Oh dear, listen to me! I won’t keep on. Now you have a lovely day and don’t mind me and all my nonsense.”
“No, not at all. He’s a terrific bear. He looks like one I remember from when I was really young. Is he an antique?”
“If I say he is does that make me one too?” she hooted. “Oh love, he belonged to my mother when she was a little girl. Never let him out of her sight. When she was in the hospital towards the end, you know,” she paused and Ashden nodded sympathetically. “Towards the end she passed him on to me and said ‘Nory, take Edward Arthur Jameson and love him always.’” Her eyes misted over and she dabbed at them with the hanky. “So I have. Look at me, silly old fool. There I go again! Now love, you come back anytime you like. If I find any special toys I’ll keep them behind the counter for you. Would you like that?”
“Yes, that’d be great. But I might not be back for a while. Thanks for showing me Edward. He is a special bear and I can tell he’s really happy here with you.”
Nory looked at him quizzically and smiled. Her grey curls remained motionless as she tilted her head, peering at Ashden over her glasses. Ashden nodded a polite goodbye to them both.
Once outside he breathed the fresh air, clearing the dust motes from his lungs with a few strong exhalations. Gently he placed his new charges in his bag, gave it a pat and strolled back down the lane. How lucky they were to be found on his final circuit for who knew how long.
A scuttle to his left startled him. He swung his head to look, automatically tightening his grip on the bag straps. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a brown tail disappear behind a dumpster. He walked a little faster and his heart beat quickened. A different sound stopped him cold. A guttural rumble from the bin. Its reverberations swelled to fill his ears. He readied himself to bolt and after the next growl he did, backpack smacking with every step. Two rats sprang in front of him from one of the weather beaten shopfronts and streaked his way as if pulled by invisible strings, making him jump as they passed. There was a commotion behind him of growling, squealing and grinding in the dirt, then nothing.
Ashden didn’t turn around. He kept running until every drop of adrenaline was burned up and he collapsed on someone’s lawn praying that whatever beast it was wouldn’t come after him out there in the open.
He lay on the grass replaying the growl in his head. It was so similar to the one he’d heard when his arm was bitten yesterday. Were they that incensed that he had touched their territory? Did they need to stalk him out here? He’d only reached a little way into the shadow and he hadn’t seen sight of them for ages. It was just a dumb mistake. He looked at the cut on his arm which was developing a green tinge. Only one more trip through the gateway, then see ya later beasts, he said to himself.
Comforted by the sound of a lawn mower starting up down the road, Ashden sat up and opened the backpack to inspect his new charges. The penguin he placed straight onto the gr
ass, but the teddy and the purple cat, he patted. Carefully he tied the ribbons he had brought around their necks and wrapped them in flannelette squares. He spoke gently and gazed into their brightening eyes but drew back as he caught a glimpse in his mind’s eye of how he must look to the neighbours. With a sigh, he returned them to the bag and stood up. He looked at the penguin lying vacant on the lawn then up at the door of the house he had stopped at. There was a tricycle under the carport. Giving the penguin a quick flip in the air, he set it on the doorstep before leaving with the others. A few paces down the street he stalled. He bit the corner of his mouth then jogged back to the penguin, pushed it head first into his backpack and continued on. He couldn’t quite remember why, just now, but he knew there was a reason it would come in handy.