Chapter 8
She sat in a cavern the colour of whipped honey that had four winding tunnels leading away from it. The ceiling glinted with pale pink pin pricks of light clustered so tightly together they formed an iridescent screen above. The creamy walls radiated warmth, unlike rock or any earthly material. Elanora touched the surface. Her fingers left an imprint which sprang back moments later. It was velvety, like a dense mud cake or the surface of freshly scooped ice cream. Even the smell reminded Elanora of warm caramel and yet this couldn’t be mistaken for a candy land of any kind.
“Are you all right?” a deep voice asked. She turned to Ashden. Instantly she wrenched her hand from his, scrambling backwards, eyes wide with alarm.
Ashden had vanished. At least, the Ashden she knew had disappeared and there in his place was a tall, muscular young man, olive skinned with tousled hair and eyes unnaturally alight. He was as far from the brow beaten boy of Scrubstone as torchlight was from the sun and yet she could see his same features, intact but perfected. His presence made her feel younger, smaller and more invisible than she had ever felt in her life.
“It’s okay, it’s me, don’t worry. We haven’t had a chance to talk much before we came so there are a few things I haven’t mentioned. This place, this world is totally different to ours but I promise. It’s still me. Come on. It’ll be fine.” He reached for her hand folding it lily like in his grip.
“But how old are you? You look like you’re...a man,” she said, unable to take her eyes off him.
“Not too old, I hope. I’ve tried to work out how long I’ve spent here but I don’t think you age the same. There isn’t an easy way to tell the passing of time. Altogether I suppose I could have been here for years, but I don’t really know. All I know is that I kind of aged to this and this is what I always come back to. And when I go home I come out exactly as I left. It’s taken a bit of getting used to, but I quite like it now. At least the getting older part.”
I can see why, she thought, raising both eyebrows. To go from downtrodden, gawky teen to glorious young man, make that gorgeous young man, would be incredible.
“How come you let yourself get so beaten up at school all the time? Look at you! You’re practically a man. How can you stand the way they treat you?”
“It’s a choice I made. It kind of comes in handy for what I need to get done at home. How else could I get all that time off school, no questions asked?”
“At least I know why you wear such over sized clothes,” she said pointing to his now snug fitting shirt and shorts.
He laughed, “Shoes are a bit tight though.” Levering them off with his toes, he replaced them with a new pair waiting on a dug out shelf beside them. “That’s a spare lot I use as decoys for the return trip,” he said in answer to her inspection of a row of soulless stuffed toys beside the clothing. “Only you could spot the difference,” he added and smiled, showing a row of perfect teeth. “Anyway, how was your trip through the gateway? The look on your face when we arrived was…”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “Strange, I guess. Does it always feel like you’re turning into a baby? Because that’s what it felt like.”
“A baby? No. That’s weird. First time might have just been a bit of a shock for you. Really, it’s no problem. Next time you’ll be fine,” he added reassuringly. “I want you to look at this before we go,” he said, directing her attention to the ground where she saw a diagram etched into the surface. There was a circle with a triangle inside touching at its three points. Inside the triangle were three smaller circles joined together. On the perimeter of the outer circle were three arrow points facing clockwise. She bent down and put her hand into the grooves to trace their path.
“What does it stand for?” she asked.
“It’s the gateway. It marks our exit home. All we have to do to is stand in the triangle. To come in you need a souling with you, but to go back you don’t. There are other symbols throughout the tunnels which are access points to other places and times. But if you go through one of those gateways, there’s no knowing how it will affect your existence back home, in normal time. Instead of reappearing home the instant you left, you could come back a year, ten years, a hundred years later. You might come back the same age or fifty years older. You just don’t know. Mr Johnson had a taste of it. He wouldn’t tell me much, but he said it was the worst mistake of his life. I think that was why he didn’t come here with me. So keep out of them. That’s what I do. And that’s what you’re going to do.”
Thanks for the lecture, she thought. Lucky he was so much older now because she wouldn’t have appreciated that tone had he been the Ashden of five minutes ago. “So Mr Johnson never came here with you? He just sent you on your own?”
“That’s right. I’ve never been here with anyone else.”
Elanora took a secret pleasure from that fact and wondered whether she might be a little less invisible in a place like this. But why does he have to be so much older?
The light was soft around them. Elanora caught Ashden gazing at the wall, blinking slowly, peacefully.
“Ash, what’s wrong with your eyes?”
His hand came to his fringe and dragged it aside. Beneath it, his eyes were alert. “My mum used to call me that; Ash,” he sighed. “In the outside world I can’t read signs, can’t see faces at a distance, can’t track a ball easily or read fine print. I was born with defective retinas. Instead of lying flat they’re bumpy which makes the picture being sent along the optic nerve break up,” his eyes met hers. “That’s what’s wrong.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. It must be hard.”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s a pain, but nothing you can do about it. And once again, it provides an excellent excuse for being out of school and getting my real job done. Anyway, the colour here feels really soothing. I can read for hours without a problem.”
“You read in here?”
He laughed, “Come and see.”
After a lengthy walk through the tunnels they arrived at a chamber. Carved out at intervals around the perimeter were rooms of various sizes and shapes. Elanora thought she detected a hum coming from them. A faint song that disappeared the moment you tried to focus on it, only to return when you stopped.
“This is extraordinary!” she said circling round to view each room. “What is this place? It’s like toy heaven! Is it toy heaven? It’s incredible!”
Each room had been decorated a particular theme and was the home of a whole collection of soulings. One was a jungle, with thick rope vines and paper leaves sprouting from sculptural branches. A painted waterfall on the wall reflected light as if it really did ripple into the river where elephants stood stout and proud and a tiger watched from behind cardboard foliage.
The next was a farmyard with paling fence, straw filled pen, painted lily pond, a ramp leading to a hen house and a roll of artificial turf. Farmyard toys nestled among the props enjoying a mural of open fields and hills.
There were six rooms in all; nautical, space, circus, play room. All hand crafted and exploding with colour and comfort, all filled with soulings contentedly passing the time and evidently enjoying each other’s company.
Elanora skipped back to Ashden who was emptying his bag of new soulings. Must stop skipping, she noted to self.
“Go and pick up one of them,” he told her.
Spoilt for choice she went into the farm yard and chose the first pony she saw. It had an unexpected weight about it. The fur was firm as if supported by flesh and bone. She squeezed gently and was sure she detected a quiver of muscle. Its face was alert and bright eyed and its plush body was warm to the touch.
“It’s almost like he’s alive! I mean moving alive. Feel him. He’s solid. It’s like he’s ready to prance about.” Elanora laughed and galloped the pony through the air. And less galloping!
“I know, I know. Look out or he will!” Ashden picked up a nearby pig. “This guy could do with a serious workout.” He walked it back to its pla
ce in the farm and sat down on the lawn, legs stretched, leaning back on his hands, as if enjoying the fresh country air. “This is mad isn’t it?” he sighed.
Elanora sat beside him, resting the two ponies together on the grass.
“So what is this place really? Are we underground or something?”
Ashden’s nostril flared as he exhaled. “I wish I knew.”
“You really don’t know?”
“Well it’s not like I can ask anyone. I’m the only person here. I’m the only person I know who knows about it.” He crossed his legs and picked at a fingernail, frowning.
“Anyway, this is what I do. I spend as much time back home as I can, going as far as I can to rescue soulings and bring them here. All I know is that when I get them here, they’re happy. If they stayed out there, they’d be miserable. From what I’ve observed, when they get separated from the person who made them, they can never be happy. And nobody sees it. They’re a soul trapped in a body that can’t move. That has no way to express itself. How bad is that!”
Elanora wanted to put her arm around him. “And you do that all by yourself, for no other reason than that you want to?”
“Want to, have to. There’s no difference in the end. Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”
“So no-one makes you?”
He shook his head. “I could stop whenever I wanted.”
Elanora distracted herself from wanting to hug him by looking once again around the cavern. “What about the rooms? How did they get here?”
“I made them. The soulings spend so much time here that I thought it would be good to make it interesting. Stimulating. I mean, they are alive.”
“So for no other reason than that you wanted to.”
He shrugged. “I guess I’m best at making things. That’s the way I help.” His voice trailed off and he stared down at his shoes. “Come and I’ll show you some more.”
“Should I find a room for my pony to stay?” she asked, gazing wistfully at her souling, Peggy.
“No, she’s got you and she’ll be happier with you back home. But you can leave her here while we have a look around, if you like. She’d enjoy that.”
As they left the chamber, Elanora noticed a stockpile of books near the exit. She stopped and gleaned the weighty mix of titles. Classics, modern, nonfiction, poetry.
“Right, the reading,” he said.
“It’s a huge collection. Have you read all these?” she asked, picking up a copy of Great Expectations.
Ash nodded.
“It’s a mixed lot,” she said, running a finger down Dickens, Shelley, a plethora of modern writers. “Oscar would have a field day if he knew about these!” She glanced up at him to share the joke and was struck again by how tall he was. How strong.
“Come on, there’s more to see.”
Elanora followed Ashden further along the network of tunnels. There were no shadows anywhere as the light filtered warmly from all directions. Ahead came the gentle lap of water. Around the next turn another cavern opened up, spread with an embroidered blanket of water rippling peacefully to their feet. It was aquamarine and miniature beads of light sifted through it to surface like white stitching and lacework. At the water’s edge, tiny ripples lapped against the shore which, when Elanora knelt upon it, was completely and perfectly dry, like magic sand from a toy store that repelled the presence of water.
“Is it okay to touch? Can I drink it?”
“You must drink it,” he replied. “This water is all you need to live on while you’re here. Try it.”
Elanora scooped some into her hands. “It’s still blue,” she marvelled, allowing the first handful to fall in droplets back into the pool. She scooped again and drank till she was satisfied. “It’s really sweet,” she smiled, “like nectar.”
Ashden poured the water onto his cut, “That’s better.”
“Magic water, hey?” she said watching the angry taint leave his arm and the wound clear. He grinned at her.
“How did you do that anyway?”
“Oh, I...put my hand somewhere I shouldn’t have. My own stupid fault. Just a cut.”
She nodded but saw his face blanch.
“Listen, Elanora...”
“Does it lead anywhere, this lake?” she interrupted.
“I don’t know.” He tugged at his hair then pulled her up from the shoreline to continue the tour.
The tunnel angled upwards and before long they arrived at another cavern. An old wooden cart was propped at the entrance with a collection of backpacks and crates stacked alongside. Inside was a stained glass ceiling giving the room a reverent, inspirational air. A closer inspection revealed that it wasn’t glass at all but coloured cellophane carefully cut and fixed to the surface. The natural light from the roof made them shine in glorious colour as if the sun blazed behind. Wrapping around the room were rows of shelves dug into the cakey walls. Rings of soulings sat gazing up at the ceiling or at them.
Elanora stared suspiciously along the rows trying to catch the source of movement in the corner of her eye. She picked up one of the soulings, nearly dropping it in surprise. This warm blooded, heavy bodied bear lifted its paw and waved at her, smiling with its little stitched mouth. She swung round to face Ashden, eyes saucer wide.
“Yes, here it is a bit different,” he answered with a laugh, picking up one of the soulings which squirmed in delight. “These guys have been here for a very long time. Before I came. I think, the longer they stay here the more alive they become. They kind of change.”
Slowly Elanora let her eyes sweep the room and saw the gentle movements of the soulings. They couldn’t walk or crawl around but they could raise an arm or turn their head. Ashden was absorbed in them; shaking paws, rubbing ears. Maybe he would suit this place better if he still looked like the gangly Ashden, she thought. But now, as he is... He really doesn’t seem like the king of toyland. Yet there he was, intent on caring for creatures that couldn’t do anything for themselves. Rescuing them from loneliness, providing them with homes and entertainment. And now hanging around with a kid! I wish I would hurry up and grow.
They were some way through another tunnel when Elanora remembered to ask, “Your mother, Ash, what was wrong with her yesterday?”
“That? It’s the shadows. The darkness,” he said and his voice caught as in times past. “It was night when Dad disappeared and she still has nightmares about it. But she doesn’t have to be asleep. I make sure I’m always there from the afternoon on, just in case.”
“Is that why you’re always going through the gateway during school? Which is why you’ve got the toys with you! I was wondering why you didn’t just go after the bell.”
“Now you know,” he said. “And that’s why I need to tell you something else.” Ashden leant against the wall and clenched his jaw several times before continuing. “My mother really isn’t well. Before I found out about you I’d made a decision.”
Elanora’s stomach clenched as well.
“I decided to give this a break. I need to concentrate on getting Mum better.” He pushed off the wall and started heading back.
“But, now I’m here. I can help,” she responded in alarm, tripping over her feet to catch him.
“It’s crossed my mind. But there’s more to it.”
“Of course,” she said slapping her arms against her sides.
“Elanora, you are new to this. I’ve been doing it for years. I can’t give Mum all my attention because I’m always out collecting soulings or doing things to fix this place up.”
“Well, I’ll come by myself.”
“There’s one other reason I need to stop coming for a while and it applies to you too. Actually, I meant to tell you before we came, but with all that forgetting-you business it slipped my mind.”
The tunnel turned sharply and with sudden force, Ashden pushed Elanora hard against the wall. Elanora shrieked and clapped her hands to her mouth.
“Stay back!” he whispered as loudly as he
dared.