Wisplurkers

038. You-know-whats

“Jeff, I can’t understand it.” Angela Dodd was in the usual flap on Wednesday morning. There was even more chance of her not being able to find her brief case, or her husband his car keys, in this tiny, overcrowded house.

Jeff Dodd was reading the paper at the small breakfast bar in the kitchen. He glanced up at the wall clock, with its pink pigs instead of numbers, he’d have to be moving soon if he was to meet that client before ten. Toby sat beside his Dad eating a bowl of cornflakes, and checking to see if the backs of his hands had started to sprout hair like his Dad’s yet. His Nan was in her minuscule garden, putting food out on the bird table in the centre of the lawn.

“What?” asked Mr Dodd.

“I definitely phoned Jones Services about our little trouble and left a message on their answer phone,” said his wife.

Toby wondered how his Dad could listen to his Mum, and still read about the Open Golf Tournament on the middle page.

“Give them time,” Jeff mumbled, biting into a piece of toast as a dollop of marmalade landed fair and square on the article he was reading. “They’re probably busy men.” He scooped the marmalade off the paper and put it back on his toast. “I had heard that we aren’t the only ones. Belches' Supermarket chain are having to close the Faffingly store ‘until further notice’ because of you-know-whats.”

That obviously wasn’t a good enough excuse for Toby’s Mum, because she smoothed her blonde hair and sighed, before adding, “Well that’s as may be, but we need something done, now.”

It felt as if it had rained for weeks, but actually the solid rain had continued for only three days. Today the sun was shining in a vivid blue sky. The gardens were soggy, with the summer flowers drooping and battered, and the paths and pavements glistened with puddles and pools. All this would swiftly change once the heat of the sun got to work. Toby caught the bus to school, it was too far to walk and there was nowhere in Nan’s place to put his bike. Something his Mum and Dad had been talking about over breakfast was niggling away at the back of his mind. He just knew that it was important, but he simply couldn’t recall what it was or why it was important. He’d remember in time.

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 44KB). Wisplurkers_038 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.

037. Carrots

Toby was beginning to think Nan was all right. With his parents working long and hard at their jobs, Toby was spending more time with his mother’s mother. Actually she was great the way she let him stay up to watch a film. At home he’d have had to watch it in his room, with the sound turned down really low so his Dad didn’t hear, especially on a school night.  Some of the films were definitely unsuitable for Toby, or so Dad thought. Some of the films his Nan watched were very violent and full of swear words, but his Nan didn’t seem to mind, and anyway Mum and Dad weren’t there.

She always had loads of things to eat, his Dad would have said they were unsuitable for Toby, and they'd sit together on the old, but comfy settee in her overcrowded room, stuffing themselves with crisps and Coke, and watching something really horrible and gory on a DVD, but really really good.

She didn’t nag at him about finishing his homework either and she was always interested in what he’d done at school, and who his friends were. She made the best chocolate cake ever and she didn’t keep telling him to take smaller pieces or ‘anymore and you’ll be sick’.

There was still the problem of the small bedroom and that awful stinky pot pouri stuff but he threw it out of the window, and filled the bowl with bits of twigs and soil out of the garden when she was at the shops. Nan didn’t seem to notice the difference.

And the carrots!

Nan boiled them, then mashed them or sliced them so they had carrots every day with their meals. “Eat them up Toby,” she’d say. “Eat up all your carrots, and then you’ll be able to see in the dark.” He wasn’t sure why it was so important. He could already see very well in the dark. He had his torch. But because he quite liked his Nan, she wasn’t half bad for an old wrinkly, he ate some of the orange carrot and swede mash on his plate.

All in all it wasn’t too bad stopping at his Nan’s for a short time, but that didn’t mean he’d rather stay than go back to their large house and his own large bedroom as soon as possible.

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 43KB). Wisplurkers_037 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.

036. Granite Warriors

Lloyd’s bedroom was large, as large as Toby’s own, but Lloyd’s was tidy.

He carefully explained the game Granite Warriors to Toby. He’d told his friend about it before, but didn’t think Toby had been listening.

“The Granite Warriors is played like this.” Lloydee pressed the Game On button.

Enter your name (Toby) as a Player. Toby then becomes a member of the Adventure Soldiers team. The game is played on three Levels to obtain the highest score. The Player can choose just one from three items that may help them through the Levels. There’s a choice of Fire - a Rope - or an Axe

LEVEL ONE: Toby, Adventure Soldier has to negotiate a number of obstacles and terrains.

The first is to scale a mountain and avoid sudden avalanches, snow drifts and bottomless chasms, to build up points. Points are deducted if Toby doesn’t complete them all in a given time. Points are carried forward to the next task.

As his friend played the game Lloyd gave a running commentary:

“And Toby the fearless Adventure Soldier has in just three minutes climbed the mountain and he has now to find his way through the snow drifts that might hide a bottomless chasm --- and yes, he’s done it, dodging the sudden avalanche that could have ended his game.”

The second is to navigate a river in a dinghy, riding the rapids, and avoiding the falls.

“Again Toby has secured the dinghy and is beginning the hazardous journey down the dangerous river. Oh, he was nearly tipped out of the dinghy by that unexpected white water, and only just managed to scramble ashore before the waterfall, although I’m not sure this Adventure Soldier’s choice of Fire was much use there”, shouted Lloyd getting excited, and nearly deafening Toby in the process. 

The third is for Toby, the Adventure Soldier to find a way through a jungle avoiding snakes, tigers and giant flesh eating plants.

“Now for the most dangerous part of all. The jungle, hot steamy and full of man eating animals and plants. But he soon eliminates the snakes and sees off the tiger --- oh very clever, he sets fire to the huge tooth-filled jaws of the plant. And another success. His score is high at this point.”   

For all three, the points are built up or lost on completion of all tasks within a set time limit. The score is carried to the next level.

LEVEL TWO: Toby now finds himself in a deep sided gorge, closed in on three sides. The ground is covered in large rocks and boulders. Some of these are the Granite Warriors and Toby needs to release them from their immobile state to fight against the Marauders when they arrive. He has only a certain time to do this, and awaken as many of the warriors as he can. Toby has to decide which are the warriors and which are just rocks and boulders. It is now a game of strategy. To pick the wrong boulder means he loses some of his points, to select a real warrior means a higher score.

“This is where it gets well good,” encouraged Lloyd. “You have got to get around and between some of the rocks and take out the correct ones or you’ll fail this test. There are clues as to the right ones, but just as many false leads. Play it very very carefully, Tobe.”      

Toby was really enjoying himself, “Hey this is cool, Lloydee”, and it seemed he was a natural player as his score rose into the thousands.

With a large number of Granite Warriors amassed for the battle, Toby enters the third and final level.

LEVEL THREE: A horde of Marauders ride into the gorge blocking off the exit to Toby and his army of Granite Warriors. The more of the Marauders that are wiped out, the higher the score.  If a Granite Warrior is smashed into pieces by a Marauder then Toby loses points. If Toby the Adventure Soldier is a casualty then Game Over.

The final score is determined by how many of the Marauders and how many Granite Warriors are left within the given time scale.

“Toby, the Adventure Soldier is leading his troops into battle. Oooh a nasty move there. Watch out for that Marauder --- ooops. Five of his Granite Warriors have successful broken down their defences --- and it’s a goal. Oh, sorry wrong game. That’s right Tobe smash them, --- now. Time is running out and there are still Marauders coming from all sides. Quick Toby there’s two behind you --- .”   

Toby’s score at the end of the game was even better than Lloyd’s or his brother Simon’s. Toby, Adventure Soldier became Team Leader. And the new team leader’s verdict? Wicked! 

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 46KB). Wisplurkers_036 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.

035. The Purple Tongue Plague

As Toby had imagined, living at his Nan’s was proving to be a disaster. The house was barely big enough for her large, old-fashioned furniture and collection of pottery and stuffed pigs on every shelf, cupboard and remaining spaces, without the added paraphernalia brought by Toby and his parents.

Toby was confined to the itty-bitty back bedroom, with hardly enough room for a bed and cupboard. There was no television or computer, there was no room, and it smelt of pot pouri. This was bits of twigs, leaves and petals in a bowl on the window ledge, supposed to give the room ‘a pleasant, scented ambience', his Nan said. The sweet smell just made Toby feel sick. No television or computer in his room. No satellite stations, not even a wide screen telly in the main room --- and carrots. Toby wasn’t sure how long he could stand the torture. He was glad to go to school on the bleak, rainy Monday morning just to get away. Toby Dodd actually wanting to go to school? That had to be a first.

His form teacher, Mr Lyon, looked amazed at his attendance.

“Well, well,” he said sarcastically. “You’ve decided to honour us all with your presence. What have we done to deserve it, Dodd?”

“D’know, sir,” muttered Toby, ignoring the sniggers from his class mates. He was used to Lyon’s remarks.

The day went slowly, in Toby’s opinion, as did any day spent doing boring lessons.

There was no Matt, but then Lloyd and Toby had not really expected him back. His mother might think he’d gone to his Dad’s in London, but they knew different.

Kylie was quiet and didn’t want to talk to anyone, so they left her alone.

“Do you think we’ll ever see Matt again?” asked Lloyd as they walked towards the school gates at home time.

Toby shrugged. Right this minute his attention was on the two figures slouching just the other side of the metal railings. Digbeth Yarby and Judith Lowe. They couldn’t be waiting for him, could they?

“Hey you.”

It was Toby they wanted, and they didn’t look very happy. Lloyd hung back, not too far away from his friend, but not close enough to be included in whatever they wanted Toby for.

“Yeah, you maggot.” The bully grabbed hold of Toby’s blazer lapels and shoved him, none too gently, against the railings. The steady rain had glued Denny’s hair to his head like a cap, and it made him look more menacing than ever. The rest of the school kids either crossed the road or hurried past. They all knew about Yarby and Co. and had probably had close encounters with the three at some time or other.

“What’dyer want, Yarby?” Toby struggled to get free.

“What’ve you done to Bernie the Hoodie? What was there in yer pocket that bit him?”

“Nothing.” Toby had forgotten all about Malcolm biting Bernie. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“He won’t come out of hith houth,” said Jude chewing fiercely. “Becauth of his tongue. Ith all purple and covered in warths”.

Toby stared at her. Bernie had a purple warty tongue just like Malcolm.

“And we think it’s all your fault.” Denny had his face, and mouth, so close to Toby’s that could smell the fried onions he’d had for lunch.

“Gerroff Yarby. It’s nothing to do with me. Perhaps Bernie’s caught the plague.” He thought fast. “It could be the dreaded Purple Tongue Plague”. Denny’s hold on his lapels loosened as he considered it. Toby knew the bully wasn’t so sure now. Digbeth Yarby was a burger short of a barbie, everyone knew that.

“Oh Denny ---” wailed Jude. “Poor Bernie. The Purple Tongue Plague. Do you think we’ll cath it too?”  She gulped in dismay and swallowed her chewing gum.

Denny was definitely looking nervous. He’d let go of Toby and was thoughtfully picking a big red zit on his chin.

“Let me think --- Purple Tongue ---. Yeah I’ve heard of it.”

“Den we thud go and thee a docthur .---- Oh Denny.” Jude had turned quite pale beneath her layer of thick make up. She didn’t think a purple warty tongue would go too well with her stud, and the colour would certainly clash with her new scarlet lipstick. She rooted around inside her bum bag and, finding a mirror, she carefully examined her own tongue. Satisfied she hadn’t got any of the symptoms, she located a piece of pink gum and popped it in her mouth.

“Yeah. --- Well --.”   Then as if Yarby had suddenly thought of it himself he said, “We’ll go and see the doc ---- now.” But he wasn’t going to let Toby off that lightly. “And you, maggot,” he poked him a couple of times in the shoulder, “I’ll be seeing you again.” With that Denny sloped off, his head down, with Jude trotting at his side. A few remaining children stepped to one side as they passed.

Once they were out of ear shot, and to save face, Toby shouted, “Right Yarby. Let that be a lesson to you.” Toby rubbed at the spot where he’d been prodded by the grubby-nailed finger.

Of course Lloyd Wong had been near enough to hear it all.

“What was all that about? And what’s this Purple Tongue Plague stuff?”

As Toby was going back to Lloyd’s house to play a game of Granite Warriors, Toby told him all about Malcolm and Bernie Aldiwinkle. At first Lloyd laughed and then, more seriously, asked, “But supposing a bite from your beetle really is dangerous? I mean --- not a plague, but something terrible?”

Toby thought for a moment, then shrugged. It was only the three bullies and they deserved it.

“Kylie looked it up on a web site, but couldn’t find anything about a blue and black speckled beetle with a long purple tongue,” Lloyd told Toby. “And right now I don’t think she cares.”

“The oldies, my parents and Matt’s Mum, think Matt’s in London,” said Toby.

“Yeah, so does mine. But we know he isn’t--.”

“Nah,” said Toby.

Thinking about their missing friend, they walked silently through the rain to Lloyd’s. Toby paused for a time in front of his own house, hoping that the white van of Jones Services would be parked outside indicating that the job was being done. There was no sign that anyone had been near. Even through the closed door could be heard a distinctive and steady murmur of a lot of high pitched voices.

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 49KB). Wisplurkers_035 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.

034. Pandemonium

“Where have you been?” asked Jeff Dodd. “No don’t tell me. Just come on and help your mother and me load up the car.”

Toby had arrived back at the house to, what could only be described as, pandemonium.

“Where are we going?” asked Toby as he stood his bike against the house wall and followed his father inside. His mother was struggling with a couple of cases down the stairs. She looked hot and flustered, and bizarre. She was wearing a thin summer dress and sandals. On her head, with designer shades, were the furry ear muffs she usually kept for their winter skiing holidays. It was then that Toby noticed the high pitched screeching and jabbering that seemed to fill every corner of their big house.

“The blithers are everywhere,” complained his Dad. “There’s at least ten in the kitchen and your mother has just found three in the bathroom, or should I say they found her when she was having a shower. I think it was her screeches that set them off.”

“Help Mummy with the cases, darling,” instructed Angela Dodd. “That’s right, take them to the car.”

Toby said something but of course she didn’t hear him.

“What? I can’t hear you.”

Toby dragged the cases to the boot of the Merc, where his Dad piled them on top of an assortment of boxes, carrier bags and even more cases.

“Dad, are we going on holiday?”

Wow this was great! A surprise holiday at mid term. 

“No son, not a holiday exactly. Your mother has decided we must get some one in to deal with ---,” his voice dropped to a hissed whisper, “the infestation. The odd looking cockroaches. She’s left a message on Jones Services answer phone. So, hopefully they can do something in the next couple of days. Meanwhile we’re going to stop with your Nan ---.”

Oh no! Carrots for breakfast, dinner and supper! Yuk!

“Dad do we have to ---- ? I mean, couldn’t we ----?”

“Now don’t argue. We’ll be fine for a few days. I know it’ll be a bit squashed at your Nan’s, but ----.”

Toby was running back into the house.

“Toby --- what? Toby ---- ?” But Toby ignored his Dad. He’d just remembered something. Malcolm. If Jim Jones and Ted Harris came to---- to --- do whatever it was they did to get rid of the bugs, then that would mean his pet ---. Oh poor Malcolm.

He raced up the stairs and to his bedroom, the general hubbub didn’t bother him. He must rescue Malcolm before the exterminators came. He pulled open the doors to his wardrobe and his heart nearly stopped. It was empty of most of his clothes, and his smelly old trainers were gone. One of them was Malcolm’s bed.   

Toby raced back downstairs.

“Mum. Mum.” But of course Mum, who was fussing about in the lounge, didn’t hear.

“Dad. Dad.” Jeff Dodd, who’d been ramming more cases into the boot, jumped at the cry and banged his head on the open lid.

“For crying out loud, Toby,” he rubbed the red, bald bit on the top of his head. “What now?”

“What’s happened to my trainers? The ones in the bottom of my wardrobe?”

“They’re there.” Jeff pointed to a carrier bag, balanced awkwardly on top of a box. “Why you need to keep those old things after we bought you a new pair just last week, beats me.”

Toby waited until his father went back inside the house and carefully opened the neck of the carrier bag, then peered into the right trainer. Malcolm the Mutterbug opened one of its bulbous eyes, closed it again and continued its snoring, and muttering. There didn’t seem to be any tasty crisps or pizza, so it might as well go back to sleep. Toby breathed a sigh of relief that Malcolm was OK.

Eventually, when they were sure they’d got everything they’d need for a few days away, they climbed in the car and Mr Dodd manoeuvred the car out of their driveway, and into the road.

“Dad,” asked Toby from the rear seat. “Have you heard of the Wisplurkers, the Dull, and Brack the Most Feared Redeye from the Dark Echo?”

“What’s it going to cost me?” asked his Dad with a resigned sigh.

Mrs Dodd, who by now had removed her ear muffs, turned round in the passenger seat. “Toby. It’s not another one of those computer games from Mr Wong’s is it?”

She swivelled back in her seat facing forward. “I do think they are a waste of money. You soon tire of them and want the next, and you have so many games already.”

“No it’s not a game.” Toby thought it most unfair. Sometimes his parents could be so not cool.

“The Wisplurkers are real, and they came from the old call centre. You know the one that got fired --- you know? There’s the Yelloweye, they are meant to be quite stupid, but they eat human shadows. Then there’s the Redeye and they’re not stupid, and they kill all the Yelloweye Wisplurkers. They live in dark corners and they’re scared of the Dull and Brack. He’s the Redeye leader.” He tried to explain.

Toby’s Mum whispered loudly to her husband, “What an imagination. Take’s after your Great-Uncle Archibald, the relative no one mentions – you know.”

His Dad peered at him through the driving mirror, narrowing his eyes.

“Toby, what are you talking about? You haven’t been sniffing something you shouldn’t, have you?”

Toby shook his head with exasperation. How could these be his parents?

“No Dad. Of course not. It’s the truth. Inspector Dalrimple was telling us all about them, me, Matt and Lloydee. Matt’s disappeared because of the Wisplurkers.”

“Stop. Stop, Toby”, his mother looked aghast. “Where do you get such strange ideas?”

“They’re not strange ----,” Toby tried, but it was no good.

“I blame all these films they show on telly. Some of them are enough to give you the heebie-jeebies ---,” said Mr Dodd.

“And when a child is as sensitive as our darling Toby, they can do such terrible harm. We are going to have to check what sort of things he’s watching from now on, Jeff.”

“Mmm. I agree.”

Is was as if he wasn’t there.

“Mum --- Dad.”

“Look, Toby”, his Dad had on that voice that meant he didn’t-want-to-hear-another- word-on-the-subject. “You are not having it, whatever it is. We spend enough money on your latest must-haves.”

“But Dad. I ---.”

“That’s enough, son. No more computer games.”

“It’s not a game.”

“I think somebody has been having you and your friends on. This inspector, I suppose he was a police inspector. He probably spun you a yarn to get you and your friends out of his hair.”

“I hope you checked his warrant card, I’ll not have you talking to strangers, what have I told you about that?” Mum added.

“Policemen are busy people, Toby. Anyway, as for Matt Jameson disappearing, his mother phoned us the other night. She thinks he may have gone to stay with his Dad who’s living in London now, and he’ll be back in time for school tomorrow. So let’s not hear any more of your fancy tales”.

Toby knew this was wrong. He knew Matt hadn’t gone to his Dad’s, he’d have said something, wouldn’t he? Toby shrugged and sat back in the seat. Parents! It was no good telling them anything important.

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 54KB). Wisplurkers_034 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.

033. “We need their shadows”

“Mr Myers, sir,” Derek asked.  “Where are we going?”

Derek, Myers and Sol were in the back of the Jones Services van. It was impossible to see through the grimy windows. The ride, very bumpy and uncomfortable, meant they were squashed in amongst untidy bits and pieces, strips of guttering, planks of wood, tool kits and dirty, oily rags.

“It doesn’t matter,” Myers said. That probably meant he didn’t know either.

“We got out before they fastened us in with their planks of wood, didn’t we?” He sounded bad-tempered so the others thought it better to keep quiet. Mr Myers did all the thinking and planning. He was their leader and so probably already had a very good plan of what they’d be doing next. Derek settled down as best he could amongst the clutter, and hoped his eyeballs wouldn’t suddenly be jigged out and take flight in this confined space, where they’d bounce off the walls like tennis balls. The very thought made Derek wince, and he quickly covered both eyes with his long, bony hands.

Sol, wedged between a box of tools and a collapsible work bench, said nothing. He didn’t altogether think the boss was right. They’d managed to escape from the house, that had lots of room, into this cramped van that was nothing more than a hot, dirty metal box on wheels. Where would they go to next? What would happen to them? Maybe he should have been made their boss? Could he have guided them and led them anywhere better? Somewhere they were safe from The Dull or Brack, and where there was an abundance of shadow food? Could he have done a better job? Sol pondered on all this as they sped along to an unknown destination and future. But his mind was slow, and he couldn’t have thought of a better plan, if it had been up to him. The reluctant Wisplurker had to admit that Mr Myers, Boss, was the best chance they had.

After what seemed like hours, but was only a matter of minutes, the van veered round a corner, sending the Wisplurkers tumbling around in the back, and came to a halt.

“Ssshh!” instructed Mr Myers. “Keep very still and don’t make a sound.”

The dark expression on his featureless face told the others they had better do as they were told, if they knew what was good for them.

They listened as Jim Jones and his mate climbed out of the front and stood talking for a few minutes, before both men strolled round to the rear doors.

Through clenched lips Myers hissed. “When they open the doors. Move”.

Derek and Sol nodded.

“We need their shadows. So you know what to do?” They nodded again.

As the doors opened a watery sun, through a thin patch of cloud, semi - lit the rough ground that was the Jones Services yard. The two humans, silhouetted against the light, couldn’t see the three Wisplurkers as they slid along the van’s floor and, effortlessly, joined Jim’s and Ted’s own shadows.

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 45KB). Wisplurkers_033 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.

032. “Don’t ever go near 35 Wood Street again”

Inspector Dalrimple glanced around as if, even out here in the open, he might be overheard. Everywhere was quiet, too quiet, shrouded in the grey dullness of an overcast day.

“That’s all I’m prepared to tell you about their evil, but what I can tell you is the name of the Redeye’s leader. He comes from the Dark Echo and his name is Brack. He’s known as ‘The Most Feared One’ and even his followers barely whisper his name except behind closed doors. To every Wisplurker, whether Redeye or Yelloweye, Brack is much worse than anything, even The Dull ----- he’s the very devil.”

While Lloyd and Toby, their eyes wide as they listened eagerly to Inspector Dalrimple's explanation, there was still something of more importance to Kylie Jameson. Even something as terrible as Brack couldn’t dim her determination.

“But what about my brother?” she insisted. “Shouldn’t we go back to the empty house in Wood Street? If these Yelloweyes have his shadow and are trapped in there --.”  She didn’t know if she believed this fantastic story, it all sounded too silly.

But her brother was still missing.

“Ah yes, Matthew,” the inspector took out a notebook and pen from a pocket inside his jacket. “This is a police matter so I am going back to Wood Street right now to check a few things out.”  He jotted something down, and then with authority said. “I want you to all go home and leave this to WICID We know how to deal with this”. Before any one could argue or object he spoke to Kylie. “I know how you must be feeling, you want to help your brother, but it would be better if you went home. If you give me your address and phone number I’ll call your folks when we know anything.”

Kylie said, “There’s only Mum - and me - and Matthew. Couldn’t I ---?”

But there was no point trying to make him change his mind. Inspector Dalrimple took all their names and addresses, and said he’d be in touch. Then with a final, “Don’t ever go near 35 Wood Street again. It could be dangerous for all of you. Understand?”, they all nodded, even Kylie, although she’d have liked to tag along. After all, Matthew was her brother.

“OK”, said the inspector before he climbed back into the old battered Ford parked close by and wound down the window.

“Mr Private Eye Toby Dodd, meet me back here, say Thursday next after school, and we’ll compare notes.” To Kylie he said, “Don’t worry.”

The three watched him drive off.

Kylie sniffed loudly and blew her nose on a tissue.

Lloyd shrugged. There was nothing more they could do. It was the police’s job and he was already late. He just knew he wouldn’t get home before his parents got back from the Garden Centre. He just knew he’d be in big trouble.

“I’ve got to go. I’m s’posed to be ---.” 

Toby interrupted unkindly. “Don’t tell me. It’s parent power. You’ve got to do what they say. Go where they want. Do this. Do that.  Lloydee I dare yer ---- .”

Lloyd grinned good naturedly. He didn’t care what Toby said. Better Toby Dodd’s sarcasm than disobey one of his family’s rules.

“No dares today, Tobe. I’m off.”

He rode his bike a distance away, and then stopped and turned, balancing his bike by the use of the pedals. “Kylie are you coming?”

Kylie nodded and raced to catch him up. Both knew Toby would go when he was good and ready. Toby Dodd was a law unto himself.

Toby stood astride his bike and watched them cycle away.

“I don’t care,” he told no one in particular. “I’m going to do some detecting here. This is where it all started and I’m going to have a good look round.”

Except there wasn’t very much to see.

Toby toured the ruins, looking carefully through the fence links at the pile of charred beams, fallen bricks and rubble. His nose wrinkled at the smell of burnt decay. Around at the rear, the corner of two walls and part of a scorched window frame still remained, but looked as if the first strong gale would bring the lot down.

Nothing. No clues. Toby was disheartened. How could he be a detective if there were never any clues to follow up? Not even a suspect footprint. He was disappointed.

As if a light had been switched on, a sudden beam of sunlight shone through the clouds and hit the ground around Toby, and the partially standing walls. Suddenly everything was bright and shade. Dark and light. Shadows and sunlight.

Nervously Toby gazed down at his own silhouette stretching along the uneven and dusty ground to his right, slightly elongated and irregular in shape. His eyes darted warily behind him, then to the left and again to the right. He had only the one shadow. Phew! He let out his breath with relief, but half wondered what it would feel like to have another, or even more shadows, as well as his own. Scary!

The part walls cast angled shadows, sharp and straight that cut across the higgledy piggledy shapes formed by the rubble. Supposing not all the Wisplurkers had perished in the fire? Supposing in that very dark corner, where the two walls met, more Yelloweyes hid watching him, ready to pounce? Toby squinted into the light, and swallowed, trying not to imagine he saw shapes moving and shifting.

The beam of sunlight thinned and faded, as the clouds bumped together again. The strange, unreal feeling that had plucked at Toby’s senses almost holding him fast to the spot, was instantly gone again.

His mobile trilled in his pocket. It was Dad. He glanced at his watch. Quarter to one. Now he was for it.

“Toby,” his father’s voice sounded high and cross. “Where the devil are you? Never mind. Get back here. Don’cha know we’ve got a crisis on?” He rang off before Toby could say a word.

Toby sighed and looked around once more. What was left of the old telephone exchange was just a pile of dusty rubbish, with the remaining walls holding the scorched frame, ready to collapse at any time. The ruins had lost that sudden mystical feeling and everything was back to normal. A bird sang in the sky and there was the low hum of a plane, as it flew overhead, hidden by the clouds. There was nothing left of the overwhelming menace that had cloaked everything for just a few moments.

With a last glance back over his shoulder, Toby cycled away and back to his home.

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 52KB). Wisplurkers_032 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.

031. Dark Echo

“Transformation?” Kylie was horrified. “What’s that?”

Dalrimple replied: “If the Wisplurker was attached to Matthew, or Matthew’s shadow, it would start to drain him of his energy. And if the creature took your brother’s shadow to eat, then without it, Matthew would slowly disappear ---- .”

Kylie gasped, “That’s awful.”

“Like the invisible man,” Toby said.

“Will Matt ever come back?” asked Lloyd. He suddenly remembered his friend’s skill at football. With Matt the team had a good chance of winning next term’s inter-schools tournament. Without him they might just as well hand the trophy over to Highfield Grange without playing a single match.

“That depends on whether the Wisplurker has already eaten his shadow, or whether he’s keeping it for later. Some have been known to hoard human’s shadows for weeks.” He paused, unsure if it was a good thing to raise their hopes. Inspector Dalrimple had seen much uncertainty since this whole extraordinary time began.

“You see. If Matthew’s shadow has been eaten, then eventually he will come back. But he’ll not be the same ----”. He put his hands up indicating it would be useless to ask him more. 

Lloyd Wong narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How do you know all this and no one else?”

“Because WICID has been formed to combat this menace, so I’ve learnt all I can about the Wisplurkers. I know that if Matthew’s shadow is still intact, and it can be attached to the boy’s clothes in time, then it’s possible he will reappear and be just like he was before. He’ll think he was just asleep and he won’t remember anything else.” He paused and studied the sky.

“If as this young man has said, he found a bus ticket that can prove Alf Grimley caught a bus days after he supposedly disappeared. That means he may or may not be OK. I’ve heard nothing. There’s been no report of him, or his wife, being seen recently or my department would have been informed immediately.”

Toby had been listening closely. This was fantastic. This was thrilling. Wisplurkers that ate shadows and changed people -- into what? Ghosts? Zombies? Ghouls?

Lloyd had a thought. It made him glance nervously around. Were there any dark places that could be hiding one of these creatures?  The sun was behind the cloud and the sky had changed almost instantly to a dull grey. No shadows were being cast along the ground or from what remained of the building.

“How many are there?”

The inspector pursed his lips. “Thousands I suppose. However many unanswered calls there were left in the telephone cables. Although many will have been lost in the fire. I have been trying to contain the ones we know about. That’s why I had Jones Services board up the windows at the Grimleys’. Something tells me the old couple’ll not want to go back to their place. Not now.”

“What about Matthew?” Kylie was getting worried, and angry, at the time wasted. “We’ve got to do something, to get his shadow back in time, like you said. But how do we do that?”

“It’s not going to be easy.”

“Is there anything these Wisplurker thingys don’t like?” asked Toby.

“They have two enemies. The first is The Dull -- .”

“What’s that?”

“This.” He spread his arms wide. “This is what they call The Dull. Look around, there are no shadows being cast. When there is no light, no sun, lamps or even moonlight then there are no shadows. If the Wisplurkers are caught out in The Dull then like your shadows, they simply disappear and become Non beings.”

“Wow”, Toby and Lloyd said together.

“And the second are the Yelloweyes' main enemies, the Redeye ---.”  This was becoming complicated, but the inspector tried to explain.

“It’s a case of evolution, and the survival of the fittest.”

Toby looked confused, but Lloyd nodded.

“Like humans evolved from apes?” asked Lloyd. “Remember Tobe, we learnt about that in junior school ages ago.”

“Yeah! Oh yeah! ‘Course.”

Toby couldn’t remember. It was probably one of those days when he was flicking bits of screwed up toilet paper at Lucy Evans sitting in the row in front.

“Mmm sort of.” The inspector was answering Lloyd’s question. “But it’s more than that.”

“So these Redeye are something more --- ?” asked Kylie interested, even though she was so concerned about the fate of her twin.

“Exactly. More advanced. One step further on the evolution ladder. Whereas the Yelloweyes are an intelligent species, the Redeyes are quick-witted and cleverer. They are not just extremely intelligent and inventive, but also cunningly wicked. They spend their time capturing the lesser Yelloweye Wisplurkers, intending to wipe them all out. There is no room in their world for anything that isn’t perfect.” He sounded angry to the point of being obsessive. “That’s why they must be stopped.”

“So let me get this right,” said Lloydee, “If these Yelloweyes are dangerous to human, because they eat our shadows, then the Redeye are on our side. Aren’t they, inspector?”

The inspector sighed deeply. “If only it was that simple.”

“What do the Redeye do to them?” Toby had to ask. “These Yelloweyes. What do they do to them?”

Toby’s eyes lit up with ghoulish delight.

Kylie pursed her lips and glared at him. “Toby Dodd you’re horrible. You would have to know all the gory details.”

But far from answering Toby, the inspector shook his head. “There are things you shouldn’t know. I ---- I’d rather not say too much to you young-uns. It’s --- it’s too terrible. I hope you never meet the really evil Redeye from the Dark Echo”.

Kylie shuddered but the boys, their eyes bright, mouthed ‘Dark Echo’.

“Wow.”

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 49KB). Wisplurkers_031 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.

030. Transformation

“Well what do we do now?” asked Toby.  He’d missed out on breakfast and he was beginning to feel hungry. He thought fleetingly about his parents chasing the blue and black bugs around the kitchen, and wondered if they’d still be going to his Nan’s for dinner. If his Mum and Dad had changed their minds because of their little problems, he didn’t mind. They just might decide to drive to a McDonalds instead.

“I don’t think there is anything else we can do,” stated Lloyd wisely, as they retrieved their bikes and stood, uncertain what to do next, in the middle of the road.

Lloyd’s parents had gone to a Garden Centre to get Mrs Wong some compost and plants for her hanging baskets. Lloyd had been told to stay close to home, and behave himself, until they got back. As if he’d do anything else.

His older brother Simon, due to go to University in the autumn, had gone out soon after to meet some of his friends. He didn’t care what Lloyd did, or got up to just as long as he kept out of his way.  But, time was ticking on. If Lloyd wasn’t home when his parents got back, it might mean no more Granite Warriors for a couple of weeks, as punishment.   

Kylie nibbled on her bottom lip as she considered their next move. Their Mum had been so upset. She’d heard her crying most of the night. If only Kylie could bring her some good news about Matt.

“It’s got something to do with that old call centre that burnt down,” said Toby suddenly knowledgeable.

That’s the very thought that had been going through Kylie’s mind. Her forehead creased as she considered it, “Right! We’ll try there. There might still be something we’ve missed.”

Toby hadn’t intended to give her the idea and with his stomach rumbling fiercely, wished he’d used his brain before he spoke. Once Kylie made up her mind there was no stopping her. Before the others could say anything she was cycling down the street, and they had no option but to follow.

What had once been the Telephone Exchange, a tall square building on the edge of town, was now no more than a mass of rubble and charred wood. Even the big, old tree, that had once brushed the side of the building with its branches, was nothing more than a scorched stump. A sign saying ‘DANGER! KEEP OUT!’ had been secured to a high, mesh fence that now completely surrounded the area.

Kylie, Lloyd and Toby stood astride their bikes in almost the same place as the three boys had months before. But they weren’t alone. A man, with his dark hair gelled and flicked at the front, was standing close by peering at what was left of the building. He half turned to face them, and they waited for him to say ‘what are you lot doing here?’ or ‘clear off’ or ‘do you want me to have words with your parents?’ the sort of palaver they expected if they were somewhere they shouldn’t be. He said none of these, but he did look stern however, until he spoke. “There was four of you. Where’s the other one?”

“My brother Matthew’s disappeared,” said Kylie fighting hard against the lump that suddenly formed in her throat.

“Disappeared? How?”

“Just like the Grimleys,” piped up Toby. “Just left his clothes behind”.

There was something in Inspector Ernie Dalrimple’s expression that made Lloyd ask. “Is it something to do with what you told us?”

The inspector slowly nodded his head. He stared at the ground as if trying to make up his mind.

“So there really are these things called Wisplurkers?” persisted Lloyd.

“Where do they come from?” Toby butted in. “Are they aliens from outer space? Where’s their space ship?” As if a saucer or a rocket could be near by, he stared hopefully around at the open fields and distant hills.

“No they are not aliens,” the inspector sighed. He knew he’d have to tell them. “They come from right here.” He pointed at the rubble that had once been the old Telephone Exchange.

Lloyd, Toby and Kylie listened as the man explained about the origins of the Wisplurkers, and how they had evolved from trapped voices inside the old disused building. Even Toby managed to contain himself without interrupting, not even once.

“And you think something happened to Matt when we were at that house in Wood Street last Friday?”  Lloyd was amazed. This time he didn’t think the policeman was spinning them a line.

“I think so.”

“But how did these shadow things get from here to Wood Street in the first place?” asked Toby. This was better than aliens from outer space.

“Alf Grimley must have taken them to his house, probably without realising what he was doing.”

“And you think he started this fire?” said Lloyd remembering their earlier conversation.

“He did.  But it was already too late for him and his wife.”

Toby knew, reluctantly, he had to mention the bus ticket, although he had got it by breaking and entering.

“I --- um. I found something when I was looking in the Grimleys’ house ---.”

“You’ve been inside,” Inspector Dalrimple raised one eyebrow, but apart from giving Toby a look, he didn’t seem all that bothered. In fact it was as if he already knew Toby had been inside the house. He nodded and a sort of smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Ah yes, a wannabee detective. So ---- what did you find?”

“A bus ticket”, answered Toby deciding not to mention that he found it in the old man’s trouser pocket. That just might be pushing his luck.

Toby went on to tell him the date and time of the ticket’s issue.

The inspector was thoughtful. “Interesting. Where is this ticket now?”

“It got screwed up, so I chucked it away. So that means ---,” said Toby with more confidence, and just to put this policeman right on a few things, “--- the Grimleys haven’t been murdered, or their bodies buried somewhere -- .”

“I never said they had,” said the inspector sharply.

“Where are they, then?” asked Lloyd. ”The Grimleys. They’re not here, so where are they now?”

“I suppose they could be anywhere,” Dalrimple added philosophically. “Or nowhere”.

“What does that mean?” asked Kylie who had been listening very carefully. “What about my brother?”

“Your brother will be OK --- I think.” Inspector Ernie Dalrimple sighed and rubbed his forehead with his finger tips. “This is what happened.  Matthew --- that’s his name?” Kylie nodded. “Matthew was looking in through the broken window of the Grimleys’ house the other day. You all were. But I noticed Matthew stayed at the window longer than any of you. One of the Yelloweye Wisplurkers, and I can imagine it was Myers, must have attached himself to your brother and was taken back to your home. I don’t suppose anyone noticed how many shadows Matthew had after you left the house?”

They shook their heads.

“No? Well I think if you had, you might have seen he had two or even more.”

Dalrimple asked. “Did he complain of feeling tired or dizzy? Did he seem different or was he acting strange?”

“Matt’s always a bit strange,” said Toby grinning. He was the other side of Lloydee, so out of Kylie’s pinching range. 

Kylie glared at him but said, “Yes. He went to bed very early and Mum thought he was sickening for something.”

“Then the transformation was starting to take place.”

“Transformation?” Kylie was horrified. “What’s that?”

“If the Wisplurker was attached to Matthew, or Matthew’s shadow, it would start to drain him of his energy. And if the creature took your brother’s shadow to eat, then without it, Matthew would slowly disappear ---- .”

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 65KB). Wisplurkers_030 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.

029. “We’ll be trapped in here, in the dark”.

“Let’s try round the back,” suggested Lloyd.

The back garden was as they remembered, overgrown with trees and bushes, and the old rickety shed. That was the strange thing about this particular garden – there was no bird-song, or the buzz of insects. It was silent, as if everything living was waiting and listening.

“They’re not here, are they?” Kylie was putting into words what Lloyd and Toby were thinking. “How am I going to find my brother now?” The twin was close to tears again. She had been so sure she would find Matt here, or some clue as to where he was. The three stood side by side looking up at the bleak house.

Behind them the garden was the same, but now all the broken windows in the house had been boarded up.

There was that time just before dawn. The few moments when the moon is setting and the sun is about to burst over the horizon, when all shadows are asleep.

It was very early on Sunday morning, when the two odd-job men had pulled up outside 35 Wood Street in their white van. The words, bold and black, were painted across the sides of the grubby van.

‘JONES SERVICES.   NO JOB TOO BIG.   NO JOB TOO SMALL’, and a telephone number, a mobile number and a message saying ‘Free Estimates’ across the two rear doors.

Jim Jones and his mate Ted Harris had quickly begun the job of nailing the strong boards across the broken windows in the back.

The Yelloweye Wisplurker called Derek had been having such a lovely dream wedged in his corner by the empty bird cage. He liked that corner. It was as if it belonged to him.

He’d been dreaming about a room, somewhere, piled high with dishes of raspberry ripple ice-cream. He’d found a carton of the ice cream in the freezer compartment of the small fridge in the kitchen. In the fridge there had been a bottle of sour milk, a piece of mouldy cheese, something so rotten it was unrecognizable, and a long-forgotten tub of margarine. He had tried them all. They’d tasted awful and he’d thrown them on the floor in disgust. But the ice cream, --- it was lovely. Of course hoomums’ shadows were infinitely more tasty in Derek’s opinion, especially the tangy, crunchy ones with just a hint of garlic, but raspberry ripple ice cream came a close second. 

A hammering coming from the kitchen woke him up and he opened first one yellow eye and then the other.

“Mr Myers, sir. What’s that noise?”

Myers in the corner opposite had also been woken by the sound. He had to prod Sol a few times before the third Wisplurker stirred himself.

“Wha --- whatssmatter, boss?” he asked still half asleep.

Mr Myers, always calm, always in control instructed them. “Wait here”. Quickly and soundlessly he slid down the wall, across the side table with its lace tablecloth and long-dead flowers arranged in a vase, and along the floor to the window.

He peered out. His large yellow eyes narrowed at what he saw.

Two hoomums. And they were -----.

“Quick.” He was not known for panicking, but this needed urgent action. “We’ve got to get out. There’s no time to waste.”

The other Wisplurkers were instantly alarmed. 

“It‘s Brack!  ---- Is it Brack?” screeched Sol. The idea that the dreaded Redeye could be outside, and waiting for them, made his flat knees bang together.

“Oooh it’s the Dull. It’s the Dull,” shrieked Derek, entering into the spirit of the moment and not wanting to be left out. He could never decide which was worst: Brack, ‘The Most Feared One’ who could do such dastardly things to a Wisplurker, or to be caught out in the Dull and become a Non-being. Either way wasn’t best favourite in his opinion.

“Quiet. They’ll hear you. Do as I say and come to the window,” ordered Myers. “The hoomums are shutting us inside. They’ll be coming to cover this window next --- .”

“We’ll be trapped in here, in the dark ---,” wailed Sol, he hated the dark, but he did as he’d been told and slid down the wall and across the floor.

“Oooh,” said Derek. He was quite enjoying all this excitement, but even so he was scared. He followed Sol.

It was, after all, a close thing. The Wisplurkers only just got out through the smashed panes of glass, before Jim placed the board up to the window and hammered home the first nail. Once outside the window, Mr Myers, Sol and Derek kept close together in the shade of the house wall. The two men didn’t notice them, they were too busy nailing a sturdy plank of wood, right across the kitchen door.

“That’ll do,” said one of the men standing back to admire their handy work. “That geezer told us to make sure no one could get inside.”

It never entered Jim’s head, there could be something inside that shouldn’t get out.

“Right,” said his mate Ted scratching his large belly. “Job done. Marvellous isn’t it? Getting us up at the crack of dawn and on a Sunday too. Just to nail a few boards to the doors and windows of this old house. There’s nothing inside worth nicking. I had a look.”

“Still he paid us well,” reasoned Jim.

Satisfied their work was done, the two men collected together the nails and the hammers, and placed them back in the tool box in the van. Climbing back into the cab, they drove off. They didn’t feel any different. Why would they? They were hungry for the fry-ups waiting for them at home. But that was all. Ted switched on the radio and whistled along with the song blasting forth through the open window and disturbing the still silent streets of the town. He didn’t care.

It would be sometime before first Jim began to feel tired then his mate Ted. Slowly their arms and legs would grow heavy, and their eyelids would close, unable to stay awake, because their shadows had been consumed. And all because they had picked up extra shadows from the house.

Jones Services drove down the empty street then turned into the road that would take them back to their builder’s yard near the centre of town. There, on that early Sunday morning they left their van, before going their separate ways back to their families, their breakfasts, then lunch followed by an afternoon of sport on the telly. Except the yard, with its portacabin office surrounded by stacks of wood, pipes, drains and odds and ends, was as far as they got that Sunday morning.

---
Download and share this episode as a PDF file (PDF, 59KB). Wisplurkers_029 
---
Maggie C. wants to hear from you with your comments, suggestions and ideas about this story before it is published as a book.
If your ideas are used, Maggie C. will acknowledge you with a credit in the book when it is printed.
Copyright © 2000-2007.