Lizard's Leap: Chapter Twelve: Answers And More Questions

‘Oh, now, don’t start panicking again. You’ll be back at the cinema in good time to meet your folks.’

How did she know about that? Mark had the good grace to blush and look at his feet as Sylvia turned to him and winked.

They walked into a massive, circular room set deep within the heart of the house.

There were no windows but the room was fresh and well ventilated. It was clean, immaculately tidy, and really, very nice. They’d expected dungeons and prison cells, they hadn’t expected this. Spaced evenly around the room were six doors. She told them that these were her escape routes; though, why she would need to escape— and from whom or what—she didn’t say. The centre of the room was governed by two, curved, deep purple sofas with lots of bright cushions. They were enormous.

Behind them, three alcoves were set into the walls: in one was a modern, fitted kitchen, everything in it was top-of-the-range. Another alcove housed a luxurious bedroom and the last contained the bathroom with a sunken bath and steps leading into it. The taps and fittings were made of gold. Each of these rooms within the main room had a louvered door that had been pushed open. Emma felt that the crazy woman had been expecting them and that the doors had been opened on purpose to—what—show off her home to them? It was very strange, but then, so was the woman. Everything was strange these days and although she was still very frightened, nothing would surprise her anymore. That’s what she told herself.

There was a flat-screen television that curved with the contour of the wall, a music station, lots of books arranged around in elegant bookcases and ornaments and knick-knacks galore. But the focal point of this amazing circular room was a massive grandfather clock, its hands positioned at twenty past one.

Sylvia took off her hat and hung it on one of the hooks of an ornate mahogany coat stand. They gaped at her in surprise. No wonder she always wore the floppy hat. She had a broad stripe of bright purple hair across the top of her head. It made her look like a punk badger.

‘I know, I know. Weird, isn’t it? I get it from my father’s side. Typical, really, Mummy has a lovely figure and Daddy has wacky hair, and which do I get?’ She pointed at her funny hair with a comical expression on her face.

If they hadn’t been so terrified they might have laughed, but there was nothing funny about this situation and the crazy woman was clearly deranged. They didn’t know of any other adults who called their parents Mummy and Daddy. And the way she said it, too, in a voice that was like a little girl, it made her more sinister.

She told them to sit and went into the kitchen area. They watched her, not knowing what to expect. Vicki twisted her hair around her finger and hummed, Kerry rocked and Mark’s eyes were agog, but Emma was alert, her mind working on a means of escape. They were stupid to have come together; one of them should have stayed at home to call the police when they didn’t return. But they’d thought they were dealing with an old lady. She wasn’t that old and there was nothing granny-like about her like the old ladies that sat on the bus. Emma was going to run for help at the first opportunity.

A tray was already laid with five glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. On a plate were a mouth-watering array of cakes and biscuits. The crazy woman dropped a dozen ice-cubes into the jug.

Then, from the kitchen drawer she took a huge, knife with a square blade the size of a book. She turned on them, holding up the cleaver and moving slowly forwards. Kerry screamed and started to cry. They tried to dissolve into the plush velvet of the soft cushions as the sinister woman with unusual, green eyes and demonic, purple hair advanced towards them. The knife was raised above her head. Its blade glinted in the harsh fluorescent lighting that spilled through from the kitchen. She took two more steps.

They were trapped.

She smiled.

‘Lemon?’ she asked, sweetly.

She held up the lemon which had been concealed in her other hand.

They relaxed, gulped and nodded. Mark managed to croak out a weak, ‘Yes, please.’

The crazy woman deftly chopped thick slices of the bitter fruit and dropped them into the jug of lemonade. She brought the tray over and made a show of pouring the juice. Emma tried to make eye gestures to the others not to eat or drink anything but that would be like asking Mark not to breathe, he was already eyeing the strawberry tart, the top half of his body leaning towards the plate as though it was magnetic.

The crazy woman offered the plate to mark and he took the tart.

‘Stop,’ Emma screamed, ‘don’t eat it.’

There was silence in the room. Mark had frozen with the cake halfway to his lips, a glob of cream wobbled on the side of the pastry case threatening to fall onto his knee at any moment. Their host thrust a side plate towards him and caught the cream before it landed.

She laughed and it sounded evil, ‘You think they’re poisoned?’ she said, looking at Emma, ‘Which one do you want me to eat?’ She pointed to the cakes in turn and Emma, unable to speak after her initial bravery, nodded when she got to the apple puff. Sylvia picked it up and took a bite, leaving a cream moustache on her face.

Mark couldn’t hold back any longer and sank his teeth into his tart. ‘Good,’ he said around a mouthful of cream, ‘Nuffink wrong wiv it. I can’t taste no poison.’ The cakes looked delicious and when the crazy woman and Mark didn’t fall over dead the girls had one each. Emma reasoned that they didn’t know when they might get fed again.

When they’d finished eating and their glasses had been refilled with more lemonade, the crazy woman turn on Emma. Her eyes blazed with an almost unnatural green light. This time there was no mistaking the anger within the stare.

‘So, young lady, you gave yourself a nasty fright, didn’t you? Where would Vicki be now if you hadn’t changed that note?’

Emma’s first reaction was astonishment. The crazy woman knew things that she couldn’t possibly know, but then, she hung her head in shame and her eyes brimmed with tears that she tried to keep contained. She failed and one made its way slowly down her cheek; it dripped off the end of her face and plopped into her glass of lemonade.

‘I’m sorry to frighten you, child, but it had to be said.’ The crazy woman’s expression softened and the anger went out of her eyes.

‘There, there, lass. It’s all right, no harm was done. I’ve handled all this very badly. I never wanted to frighten you, you know, but the frame is not a toy. Now maybe you see why I was so desperate to get it back. In the wrong hands that frame could cause trouble the like of which the world has never before seen. It’s not a free pass to Disney World. You children were cursed the day you saw that piece of wood. The responsibility on you all is enormous.

I could so easily have taken it back, and, believe me, it would be better for you if I did. I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought of nothing else. But you can take that worried look off your face, young Kerry. For now, at least, it’s going to be safer with you. I’ve thought and thought, wracked my brains to come up with another solution but I’m afraid, I have to protect the frame. That’s my purpose, you see. I am one of the keepers of the frame. It is my duty to protect it and keep it from harm and from falling into dangerous hands. I wish there was another way. But we’re all stuck with it.’

‘What do you mean?’ Emma asked, her curiosity finally outdoing her terror. ‘One of the keepers of the frame? You mean there are others? Who are they? Will they try to come for it?’

‘Absolutely, he will, and, when he does, we’ll be ready for him. But I’ll get to all that later. I have so much to tell you and so little time. How much do you need to know? How much is it safe to tell you? What is better left unsaid?’

She shook her head. They assumed that she was talking to herself and that she wasn’t expecting any answers from them. She sat on the corner of the sofa mumbling to herself, trying to decide just what to tell them. The children were tingling with anticipation and nervousness.

‘However,’ she continued, her voice had changed in an instant and was hard again and commanding. ‘The frame can stay with you but there have to be rules made and guidelines set. We’ve had one near catastrophe, and that’s nothing to what could be done with the frame. Firstly, and this is the single most important rule, the frame must never be used to change the course of history. This is going to be a difficult one for you to come to terms with. With one spell, you could end war, famine, disease, everything that’s wrong with this ridiculous world of yours—but it would be disastrous.’

‘How could that be bad?’ Vicki asked, confused. She wiped her nose on a soggy tissue.

‘Because, girlie, the world is on a set course. Destiny decides what is to be, not four snot-nosed,’ she looked pointedly at Vicki, ‘Kids in a little English backwater. This world is a bad place and that’s why I’m here. Lord knows I’d rather not be, I’ve never known a place like it. Still, it’s my duty and I had to undertake it. I’ve been sent to learn the ways of your world so that my people will never make the same mistakes.’

Vicki opened her mouth to ask another question but the crazy woman held up a hand to silence her. Vivki sneezed instead and glared at Emma for inflicting the runny cold on her. Mark jiggled on his seat with unasked questions. It was no good, he couldn’t contain himself. He had to know.

‘Are you an alien, then?’

She looked at him, her eyes hard. ‘I’ll answer all of your questions soon. For now, listen and try to understand. This is far more important than who I am. I will tell you anything you want to know, but first, you must listen.’

She waited for each of them to calm down and settle. She said that they had a busy afternoon ahead, with a lot of information to take in and she wanted to make sure that they understood each point before moving on to the next.

‘Rule 1.’ She began, ‘You must never use the frame to alter the course of history. Man is making a terrible mess of this planet, and he has to be allowed to get on with it. One day he’ll look at the mess he’s made and he’ll want to put it right. If something magically makes the world a wonderful place, he’ll just make exactly the same mistakes again and all the hundreds of years of learning that you’ve already gone through—as a race of people, you understand—,’ they nodded but they didn’t have a clue what she was on about.

She continued, ‘will have to be repeated. Now, that doesn’t mean that you can’t use the frame to help individual people. It’s going to take time to learn how to use it wisely. And that’s if I decide to let you use it at all after the last fiasco.’ She held up her hand to stem Vicki’s defence of Emma. ‘You can pick at little problems to make someone’s day better, but you must not try to change the world. Do you understand?’

They all nodded.

‘Any questions?’ she suddenly had a pair of glasses on the end of her nose and she peered over them. They’d been looking at her. Kerry, still terrified, hadn’t taken her eyes off her once, and yet she hadn’t seen her put the glasses on.

‘Any questions?’ She sounded just like Miss Jameson.

Mark’s hand shot up.

‘Yes, Mark.’

‘Are you an alien?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Any questions about rule one?’ They all shook their heads.

‘Good, we can continue. Rule 2: You must never use the frame to cause harm to another living creature. This one is self-explanatory and I don’t think any of you will be trying that one again. I know,’ she held up her hand at Emma’s coming protest. ‘I know, child, you had no idea what you were doing and never wanted any real harm to come to Vicki. I don’t think we need to dwell on rule two any longer, do we?’

They shook their heads.

‘Rule 3: You must not use the frame to further your own selfish desires. What that means is that you may use the frame and enjoy it. That, amongst other things, is what it was made for. But you may not, for instance, use it to win the lottery. During a leap, you may take advantage of whatever comes your way, but you may not ask the frame for ridiculous material goods. Is that understood? Are all my rules understood?’

Emma, Kerry, Vicki, and Mark all agreed that they did.

‘Before we leave this subject, I must tell you that I am going to have to do something to ensure that you stick to the rules, otherwise it’s like leaving a bunch of five year-olds with a box of matches.’ Kerry and Emma both resented this remark. Kerry went into a huff and folded her arms across her chest, looking exactly like a five year-old and Emma glared at her.

‘When you arrive home you will see that the frame has changed. Count the berries. Overnight one will be taken. This is the first penalty against the frame being used badly. Everytime you misuse the frame, one berry will be taken until none remain.

When the last berry has gone, the frame will be useless to you. It will be just an old piece of wood used for the decorative storage of pictures. At this time it must be returned to me. This may seem like a punishment, and to some degree it is, but it is also a guide for you to learn from. You might not be sure of your actions, but if a berry is taken you’ll know that you have done wrong. Do you understand?’

‘Not really,’ Vicki said, bold now that the cleaver had been put away. ‘What are the berries? And who’ll take them?’

‘You’ll see, all in good time. That’s not important. You really need to learn to ask the right questions. What is important is that you understand that if you waste the berries, the frame will lose its magic and must be returned.’

They nodded.

‘Now you may ask your silly questions. I bet none of them are the right ones.’ She exaggerated a sigh. ‘Fire away.’ As she settled back into the cushions and waggled her left slipper, the bell on the end of the curl tinkled.

‘Are you an alien?’ Mark asked, before the others could jump in with stupid girl stuff. He hoped the answer was yes. He’d never met a real, live, alien before. Maybe she would take her skin off to show them how hideous she really was.

‘No, Mark. I’m not an alien.’ She wiggled her foot impatiently.

Mark’s face fell and he made no attempt to hide his disappointment. Before he could press the point and try to persuade her that she actually was an alien but just didn’t realise it yet, Vicki jumped in.

‘Who are you?’