A model of Ratbridge.
chapter 7
WHICH HOLE?
He sat up and banged his head.
Arthur woke up with a start. He sat up and banged his head on the wooden shelf above him. Then he remembered where he was. Pale daylight filled the space between the counter and the wall behind it. A face popped into view and smiled at him.
“Good morning, Fish!” Arthur said, rubbing his head.
Fish gurgled in a friendly way and disappeared. He returned a moment later carrying the cocoa bucket. Arthur swung himself from under the counter and took the bucket—there were only a couple of inches of the rich, dark liquid in the bottom. Obviously, he realized, he must be the last one up. He lifted the bucket and drank the lot. Fish giggled, then took the bucket back. Arthur wiped his mouth on the hem of his string vest and burped.
He returned a moment later carrying the cocoa bucket.
“Thank you. I needed that.”
Willbury appeared behind the counter wearing a worn dressing gown of green silk.
“Good morning, Arthur. I hope you slept well! I think we had better get ready. It’s still early, but it’s market day, so the streets will get busy quite soon, and I know the underlings prefer it when there are not many people about.”
Arthur followed Willbury and Fish out from behind the counter and almost walked into a pile of books. A complex pattern of books covered most of the floor. The other creatures stood around its edges.
“We have made a model of the town.”
He handed them each a silver coin.
“What’s this?” asked Arthur.
“It’s Ratbridge,” replied Willbury. “My friends here don’t really understand maps, so we have made a model of the town with all its buildings and streets. This way we can plan our expedition.”
Arthur looked again at the books on the floor. There before him lay every street and building, defined by books and other objects from the shop. It was astonishing! He looked about and got his bearings. Then he pointed to a small dictionary. “That’s where we are!”
“Yes!” said Willbury, laughing. “It works quite well, doesn’t it?”
“Well, where have we got to go?”
The underlings started chattering, and each of them pointed at a different part of the “town.” There seemed to be some difference of opinion.
“Hmmm. There are more holes than I imagined, and it seems the underlings each has a favorite one,” said Willbury. He turned to them. “I will give each of you a six-groat coin, and I want you to place it where your hole is.” He handed them each a silver coin. The creatures carefully leaned over the model and placed down their coins. Willbury surveyed the positions of the holes.
The creatures placed down their coins.
“I rather like the idea of Titus’s hole. It’s nice and close,” he finally declared. The boxtrolls all laughed. Willbury looked at them, puzzled.
“What is it? What’s wrong with Titus’s hole?” he asked.
The boxtrolls squeaked and made signs at Arthur and Titus.
“Oh, of course,” said Willbury. “Titus’s hole would be too small for Arthur.” He turned to Titus. Titus reluctantly nodded.
Willbury turned back to the boxtrolls. “Well then, what do you suggest?” Fish seemed the most insistent. He kept pointing at his coin, which was placed among books that made the shape of houses and gardens near the edge of town.
Willbury’s eyes traced a route from the shop to Fish’s coin. “It seems to me that Fish may have a point. Arthur should have no trouble fitting down a boxtroll hole, and we could get there very quietly down these back streets.” Willbury indicated the route with a walking stick. “If we find there are too many people about, we can always divert and make our way to one of the other holes. We’ll set off right after breakfast.” He turned to Arthur. “I am sure your grandfather is anxious to see you again.”
Arthur paused. “But what about my wings?”
“Yes . . . well . . . ,” replied Willbury. “I told you I had an idea. Based on what you said about the man who took them, it occurred to me that he must be someone who knows about mechanical things and the like. I know a person who knows most people in that line. Finding her may take some time as I have not seen her about recently, so I think it better that we get you back to your grandfather first.”
Arthur’s heart sank. “But . . . if I go back without his wings, Grandfather will be so disappointed in me . . . .”
“Well, you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll go to the market this morning and get you some food. I have to go anyway as we are out of buns.” Willbury looked around indulgently at the creatures. He turned back to Arthur. “Come back tonight and I will have plenty for you to take back to the Underworld.”
Then Willbury gave Arthur a rather disapproving look. “Mind you, I don’t hold with taking other people’s things. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t helped yourself to that lady’s bananas. Now, everybody collect up these books and put everything away, and I’ll make breakfast.”
“I don’t hold with taking other people’s things.”
Arthur, the boxtrolls, and Titus set about tidying the floor, then hovered around the fireplace where Willbury was using the cocoa bucket to make porridge.
“I am afraid it may taste a little chocolaty,” apologized Willbury.
“I think I should rather like that,” replied Arthur, and the other creatures nodded in agreement.
Willbury grinned. “Well, then I shall add more cocoa and sugar. It will cut out the need to make cocoa afterward. Titus, would you be so good as to fetch the bowls and spoons?”
After finishing the cocoa porridge, which everyone declared a success, Willbury excused himself and reappeared a few minutes later, fully dressed. Then he unbolted the front door, and the little band set off through the deserted streets.
Willbury was using the cocoa bucket to make porridge.
The group made their way through the back streets of Ratbridge.
chapter 8
SEARCH FOR A HOLE?
The boxtrolls trotted ahead.
The boxtrolls trotted ahead as the group made their way through the back streets of Ratbridge. At each corner the boxtrolls checked for humans, then waved the group on. As yet they had the town to themselves. When they passed a carpentry workshop, Willbury pointed to some blue chalk marks on the cobbles.
At each corner the boxtrolls checked for humans.
“I think Fish has been here recently,” he said to Arthur. Arthur’s eyes followed the direction of the arrow drawn on the street. It pointed to a pale strip of brickwork where a drainpipe had once been fixed. “Yes, I really must have words with him,” Willbury added.
The group moved on. Within ten minutes they were approaching the site of Fish’s hole.
Fish stopped by a door in a garden wall.
Fish, taking the lead, stopped by a door in a garden wall. He signed to the others to keep quiet and follow him. He pushed at the door and they all made their way into an overgrown garden. It was clear that the house that it belonged to was deserted. They followed Fish up the garden path, carefully avoiding brambles. He led the way to a brick outbuilding, and opened its door. Then he let out an anguished squeak.
The others crowded around to see what had upset him. A large, rusty iron plate covered the floor inside. Dried black glue bulged from around its edges.
Dried black glue bulged from around its edges.
Fish started to make gobbling noises.
“Confound it!” said Willbury. Then he looked at the boxtrolls. Shoe and Egg were comforting Fish.
“Let’s see if we can lift it,” said Willbury. “If we get a large stick, we could try to force it under the edge.”
An old spade.
Arthur spotted an old spade in the brambles and hurried to fetch it. Willbury smiled. “Good thinking, Arthur. I think Fish is the strongest one here. Give him the spade and let him try.” Fish tried to push it unde
r the edge of the iron plate, but the glue was so hard that even after a great deal of effort, he made no impression.
He made no impression.
“I don’t think we should worry too much, Fish. The hole must have been found when someone was doing repairs on the house, and they just covered it up,” said Willbury consolingly. “Let’s try another hole.”
Fish frowned. He threw the spade down in a rather bad-tempered way.
“Fish! That is not the sort of behavior I expect from a boxtroll. Pick that up and leave it neatly against the wall, please,” Willbury said sternly.
Fish looked huffy but did what he was told.
“Shoe, I think your hole is the closest one to here. Let’s go there,” Willbury continued. Then he put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll have you back home before you can say ‘Jack Robinson.’ ”
The group set off again, this time following Shoe. Fish trailed behind, muttering to himself and kicking every pebble he found in his path.
The butcher’s shop.
They passed through a few more streets, then arrived outside a butcher’s shop. Shoe led them up the side alley next to the shop and into a walled yard. On one side was a derelict pigsty. Shoe looked about to check that nobody was watching them, then opened the pigsty’s gate and went inside. He came back out looking distraught. He took Willbury’s hand and led him into the sty. Arthur and the others followed. Old straw had been pushed up around the edges of the sty, revealing another large iron plate.
On one side was a derelict pigsty.
“Oh dear!” muttered Willbury. “This looks bad. Two holes both sealed up!”
“Three if you count mine,” said Arthur.
“You’re right, Arthur. This seems more than a coincidence,” said Willbury, sounding worried.
Arthur was also starting to feel worried. He moved forward and took a long look at the iron plate. “This is how the huntsmen sealed up my hole last night.” Getting home suddenly did not seem so straightforward after all.
Willbury rubbed at his chin. “I’m beginning to suspect these things could be connected. We had better go and check the other holes forthwith,” he said.
Egg now came forward and gurgled to Willbury.
“Yes, Egg! Let’s check your hole. Hopefully we’ll have more luck there.”
A few people were now out and about, pushing handcarts toward the market. The boxtrolls looked uneasy. Titus nervously tried to keep Arthur between himself and the humans.
Egg led them quickly to a rubbish heap behind the Glue Factory, where he immediately started pulling pieces of junk away from one end of the heap. After a few moments he stopped. Sunlight glinted off an iron plate . . . .
In silence Egg turned and looked back at them. The boxtrolls started to make an agitated mewing sound. Willbury walked over to the iron plate and stared. Arthur joined him, feeling increasingly alarmed.
“Why would anyone do this?” he asked.
“I am not sure . . . but I have a very bad feeling about it. We should check Titus’s hole to see if the same thing has happened there.” Willbury turned and spoke to Titus, who was trembling all over. “Can you show us your hole please?”
Titus nodded his head and the group set off again, this time at a real pace. The streets were now filling and the little group was getting a lot of stares. Titus was so concerned about getting to his hole that he hardly noticed the onlookers and even dared to lead them.
He hardly noticed the onlookers.
They went up and down so many streets that Arthur wasn’t sure where they were anymore. Titus moved more and more quickly. Then he disappeared around a corner into an alley. The others turned the corner to see Titus in the distance, running toward a drain. Before he reached it, he stopped.
The others caught up to find Titus whimpering to himself. This time, for several seconds no one said a word. They just stared at the large iron sheet covering the drain. Finally Willbury spoke. “I’m so sorry, Arthur, but I’m not sure what to do. This is terrible . . . and I don’t think we know of any more holes.”
Arthur did not know what to say. The thought of never going home again was too much to bear.
Willbury took Arthur’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Then Fish made a noise.
“GeeeGoooW!”
“GeeeGoooW!”
The other boxtrolls turned to look at him and repeated the noise. “GeeeGoooW! GeeeGoooW! GeeeGoooW!”
Fish turned to Willbury and started to jump up and down. The other boxtrolls joined in. Even Titus was nodding eagerly.
“What is it?” asked Willbury.
The underlings all pointed down the street.
Willbury grasped Arthur’s arm. “I think they know of another hole, Arthur.”
The underlings nodded.
“Well, let’s go!” said Willbury. And they began to run.
The wet dry dock.
chapter 9
THE WET DRY DOCK
A freshwater sea-cow.
Not far from the back of the Cheese Hall was a disused dry dock. This was connected to the canal by a short channel. It was no longer dry, as its huge wooden gates were open and hanging from their hinges. The hulks of several boats were partially submerged in the murky water, and the occasional bubble rose up and broke the weedy surface. If you listened very carefully, you might have heard a low, rumbling, mooing sound coming from its depths.
Willbury and Arthur looked expectantly at the boxtrolls. The boxtrolls peered into the water. Then some more bubbles broke the surface. The boxtrolls grinned and clapped their hands excitedly. Fish looked up and down the footpath and spotted a clump of grass. He pulled it up and tossed it into the water, near where the bubbles had emerged. It sank slowly. And just as slowly, something large moved under the water.
Arthur was startled. “Quick, Willbury! Did you see that?”
“Yes, I did . . . . I’m not sure what it is.”
Fish spotted a clump of grass.
Fish, Shoe, and Egg were now running up and down the bank, gathering vegetation. When they had a small heap, they nodded to one another, gathered it up, and threw it into the water. They all waited.
A large, hairy, pink muzzle broke the surface of the water, right in the middle of the floating vegetation.
“Oh my word!” said Willbury. “I have never seen one of those before.”
“What is it? What is it?” Arthur asked impatiently.
Something large moved under the water.
“I believe it’s a freshwater sea-cow!”
The boxtrolls nodded. The freshwater sea-cow lifted its head above the water, revealing two large, gentle eyes and a pair of short horns. The creature was huge. Arthur stared in awe at its enormous black-and-white body floating beneath the water. It began to vacuum up the greenery with its huge floppy nose. With a couple of breathy sucks the food was gone. The sea-cow sank back down till only its eyes and horns were visible above the water. It looked very sad.
A large, hairy, pink muzzle broke the surface of the water.
Fish crept closer to the water’s edge, crouched down, and held out some dandelion leaves. Slowly the sea-cow moved toward him, raised its head, and sucked in the leaves. Fish’s hand got covered in slobber, but he kept very still. Then very carefully he reached out with his other hand and patted the sea-cow’s nose. The group watched in silence.
Fish made gentle gurgling noises as he stroked the pink muzzle, and the sea-cow held still. Then it let out a deep sigh. Fish made a mewing sound and the sea-cow replied with another sigh.
Arthur tugged on Willbury’s arm. “I think he’s talking to it!”
Fish and the sea-cow continued to gurgle and sigh at each other, then the sea-cow sunk back into the water and vanished. Bubbles rose from the pool and then all was still.
Fish stood back up. He looked very upset.
“What is it, Fish?” asked Willbury.
Fish started to jabber. As he did so, Willbury leaned down so Titus could
whisper a translation. Willbury looked more and more uneasy. When Fish had finished, Willbury turned to Arthur, his face pale. “Something tragic has happened. That poor sea-cow!” he said, his voice trailing off.
“What is it?” whispered Arthur.
“Well, the freshwater sea-cows live in waterways under the town. They use a tunnel that extends from the dry dock to come out into the canal to feed. That sea-cow has three calves. A few days ago she left them here to play while she went off to forage in the canal. When she returned, the calves were gone, and the tunnel blocked.”
Fish held out some dandelion leaves.
Fish slowly nodded. The group stood very still.
“What can we do?” asked Arthur.
“I’m not sure, Arthur. I’m not sure,” said Willbury very quietly. Then he turned to the underlings. “Do you know of any more holes?”
The underlings slowly shook their heads.
Willbury gazed into the water for a while, tutting to himself, then said, “I really have no idea what is going on. I think it best if we all go back to the shop.”
Fish’s hand got covered in slobber.
He headed back up the path. The others followed in silence. As they trailed through the now crowded streets, Titus gripped Arthur’s hand. Things did not look good.
Willbury.
chapter 10
THE RETURN
“Grandfather! Are you there?”
As soon as they were inside the shop, Willbury told Arthur to call his grandfather. “He needs to know what’s going on.” Arthur nodded in agreement.
He reached under his shirt for the doll, wound the handle, and soon the familiar crackling could be heard.