And Jack looked up and said, “Ah.”
They stood before the Golden Chicken Diner. It was a symphony of chrome and neon. A neon chicken on high flashed on and off, in profile, pecking up and down.
“It’s one of a growing chain,” said Dorothy. “They’re springing up everywhere. The chicken burgers are very popular and the coffee is good, but cheap.”
“Right,” said Jack. “It looks wonderful. Let’s go inside.”
And then Jack stopped. And then Jack stared. And then Jack said, “Oh no!”
And Dorothy looked at Jack, who now stared wide-eyed. And she watched as Jack took Eddie from under his arm and held him up before his chest.
And Eddie stared and saw what Jack saw, and Eddie Bear mouthed, “No!”
In the front window of the Golden Chicken Diner there was a garish sign. It was a big garish sign and it advertised the fare on sale.
But not only did it advertise this, it also advertised something else. It advertised special offers and what came free with these.
COLLECT ’EM ALL (said this garish sign)
FREE WITH EVERY FAMILY SPECIAL
A CLOCKWORK CLAPPINGMONKEY or
A CLOCKWORK BAND MEMBER or
A CLOCKWORK ORCHESTRA MUSICIAN
AND COMING SOON
LAUGHING POLICEMEN
AN ENTIRE SET OF TOY TOWN FIGURES
INCLUDING
TINTO THE CLOCKWORK BARMAN
AND
EDDIE THE CUDDLY BEAR
15
When Jack could find his voice he whispered, “What does it mean, Eddie, what?”
Eddie just stared and Dorothy said, “What is the matter, Jack?”
“It’s this … this sign.”
“Free toy figures.” Dorothy smiled. “Don’t thay have free offers in England? These are incredibly popular. They only started a day or so ago, with the clockwork monkey. Everybody’s collecting the figures now, not just kids, but grown-ups. There’s something about them, something –”
“Special?” said Jack. “Something special?”
“Yes, that’s the word. They’re not like ordinary toys.”
Eddie wriggled gently in the arms of Jack.
Jack said, “This needs thought, much thought.”
“Thought about what?” Dorothy was steering Jack into the Golden Chicken Diner.
Jack held back. “Let’s go somewhere else,” he said. “In fact, perhaps it would be better if I were to see you later on, this evening or something. I think I should be pressing on with my case.”
“I’m not letting you go that easily.” Dorothy clung to his arm. “At least let a girl buy you a cup of coffee. And I want to hear all about this case of yours.”
“No,” said Jack. “I don’t …”
But Dorothy tugged at Jack’s arm and Jack let himself be drawn into the Golden Chicken Diner.
It was within, as without, swathed in chrome and neon. A long chrome counter, behind which at measured intervals were mounted splendid chromium cash resisters, behind which stood personable young women wearing skimpy gold costumes. They sported golden caps and these in turn sported corporate logos: profiled pecking chickens. One of the girls said, “How might I serve you, please?”
“Two coffees, please,” said Dorothy.
“And a large glass of beer,” said Eddie.
Dorothy looked up at Jack. “How did you do that?” she asked, and she smiled as she asked it.
“Just a trick,” said Jack, but in a distracted voice, as he was viewing large posters that hung upon the walls to the rear of the serving counter. These were adorned with dozens of pictures of the special-offer free Toy Town figures. Jack instantly recognised Chief Inspector Bellis, and the cigar shop proprietor, monkeys and musicians, several of the laughing policemen that he had recently fallen foul of, Tinto the clockwork barman and …
“Amelie,” whispered Eddie.
“Sorry?” said Dorothy. “What did you say?”
“Amelie,” Jack pointed. “I know her, she’s my –”
“She’s your what?”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Jack. “Or rather it does, very much.”
Eddie set free a dismal growl. For Eddie could see, as indeed could Jack, Eddie’s own picture up there.
“I don’t understand it,” said Jack. “I don’t.”
“You are a very strange boy. Ah, here are our coffees.”
“And where’s my beer?”
Dorothy laughed. “That really is very clever.”
“Get him a beer, please,” said Jack. “He needs it and I need one, too.”
“I can’t get beer – I’m underage and so are you. Don’t be so silly.”
“Bad bad meathead world,” grumbled Eddie.
“Stop it now.” Dorothy paid for the coffees and carried them to a vacant table. “Come on, Jack,” she called.
With difficulty Jack tore his eyes away from the colourful posters and carried Eddie to the table. He pulled out a chair and seated the bear upon it.
“Horrible world,” grumbled Eddie.
Dorothy looked nervously at Jack. “You weren’t touching him when he said that,” she said.
“Just a trick,” said Jack.
“I’m not so sure.” Dorothy gave Eddie a close looking-at. “There’s something about this stuffed toy of yours. Something –”
“Special?” Jack suggested.
“Different,” said Dorothy. “Odd, perhaps.”
Jack stared into his coffee cup. He recalled his conversation with the cigar proprietor who had told him, “I have the special eye and I see trouble lying in wait ahead for you. Trouble that comes in the shape of a chicken,” and also his conversation with Eddie when they first went to Toy Town and had talked about souls being stolen and all of Toy City being under threat.
“Stealing their souls,” said Jack. “Taking their very essence. And for this?”
“Please tell me what you’re talking about.” Dorothy looked over at Jack. “You’re frightening me.”
“I’m sorry.” Jack shook his head. “I’d like to tell you, but I can’t. And even if I could, you wouldn’t believe me. You’d think I was mad.”
“This is California,” said Dorothy. “Everyone’s mad here. There was an Englishman like you, well, he was a Scotsman, but I think that’s the same thing. His name was Charles Rennie Mackintosh, and he said that if you turn America on its side, everything that is not screwed down rolls to California.”
“I’m sure that’s very profound,” said Jack, “but it means nothing to me. Is this California? I thought it was Hollywood.”
“It is Hollywood, but Hollywood is part of LA, which is in California. California is a state in America. But why am I telling you this? You know where you are, surely.”
Jack shook his head. “Hold on,” he said. “You said LA.”
“LA,” said Dorothy. “Los Angeles.”
“LA,” said Jack. “TO TO LA. To LA. It was a signpost.”
“I’m more confused than ever.”
“And so am I,” said Jack.
“You’re coffee’s getting cold.”
Jack sipped at it.
“Do you like it?” Dorothy asked.
“It’s fine, thank you.”
“Beer would be better,” Eddie said. “This is a nine-pint problem.”
“You didn’t do that,” said Dorothy to Jack. “You were sipping your coffee when it spoke.”
“I’m not an it,” said Eddie. “I am an Anders Imperial. Cinnamon plush coat –”
“Not now,” said Jack.
“He speaks by himself.” And Dorothy’s green eyes grew wide.
“It’s just a trick.”
“It isn’t a trick.”
“All right. It’s a small child in a costume.”
“Oh no it isn’t.”
“Let’s go to a bar,” said Eddie. “There’s bound to be one somewhere that will serve us.”
“It’s speaking by itself, it really is.”
“And I’m not an it! Get rid of her, Jack. We have to press on now, find our other selves, stop them doing what they’re doing and fast.”
“I agree,” said Jack. “This is bad, very bad.”
“It’s alive, Jack! Make it stop!” And tears sprang into Dorothy’s eyes.
“Listen,” said Jack, “please be calm. I’m sorry.”
“But it’s alive.”
“Will you please stop calling me an it?”
“Make it stop, it’s frightening me.”