Lizard's Leap: Chapter Seven: Run

Mark was still teasing Vicki, he was in no immediate danger of receiving a Chinese burn, and as they bickered, Kerry was jolted back to the present. She had spent the morning cleaning the print, cutting it down and fitting it in the frame. Now she put it in place on the mantelpiece. They all admired the new, complete picture.

‘It’s really pretty and I can’t wait to be in it,’ Vicki said. She was right; it was a very pretty picture. They’d talked about what they needed before Emma and Kerry had gone to the auction. Something in England would be a start in case anything went wrong. They were wary of the sea in case they landed in it, and, as they didn’t know what to expect, this picture looked quietly perfect. They couldn’t be sure that it was in England, of course, but it looked very British.

A hill sprinkled with buttercups and daisies carpeted the foreground. On the top of the hill, looming over the landscape like a giant overseer was a massive oak tree. Its boughs spanned to give shade from the bright sunshine and, mottled from the reflection cast by the leaves, a magnificent horse sheltered beneath the overhanging branches. If the picture gave accurate perspective, he was big, shiny and svelte like a racehorse. Behind the animal and tree, in the background of the print, an impressive manor house tried to change the focal point from the horse.

‘Wow, look at the horse. Isn’t he a beauty?’ Mark said.

‘I want a horse,’ Vicki was daydreaming, ‘I’m going to ask for one for Christmas.’

‘Yeah, good luck with that,’ Emma goaded. ‘The closest you’re ever going to get to a horse is having your very own copy of My Pony annual.’

The one thing that Mark and Vicki did agree on was their love of animals. They had a knack for finding abused, neglected and unwanted creatures. They’d plead and cry to keep them and Karen Forest, would say, ‘No, you can’t have the cat and its nine undernourished kittens advertised as free to a sucker with a good home.’ Or, ‘No, that unwanted dog and its five hundred fleas aren’t coming into this house. You can tell it that I don’t want it either.’ Or, ‘No we won’t take the school hamster for the holidays. It will chew through a pile of laundry as fast as Mark could chew through a Big Mac, and anyway, what if it died?’ Where animals were concerned, whatever the request, Karen’s reply always began with the word, ‘No.’ Vicki, the drama queen, would threaten suicide and Mark would wind her up, gloating about getting her share of pudding at tea-time. But then, seeing that she wasn’t serious, he’d go back to sulking over the latest stray or unloved animal that would not be taking the Forest surname.

****

Over the previous two weeks, while a search was in progress for a new picture, they’d been to Liberty Island several times. They’d needed to learn more about how the magic worked and, amongst other things and with some trial and error, they’d worked out important stuff, like the time laws. One hour leap time was equal to five minutes real time. It never changed.

They’d learned that the leap force only took them all if they were standing close together; otherwise it only took the chanter. This had proved useful for sending one of them back to check things were all right at home. They had been careful to plan the time difference so that they had always leaped when the Island was closed for the night. They’d become expert at leaping backwards and forwards and were used to the extraordinary feeling of zapping through time and space.

They joined hands as they’d discovered it was safer that way. On their second leap back home, Kerry had been too far from the rest of them and was left behind. Finding herself alone on the Island, she panicked and couldn’t remember the trigger verse. The others had to go back and felt sorry for her when they found her hysterical and traumatised. There had been no sign of the crazy woman since the day they saw her on the ferry but, in the five minutes that Kerry was alone and terrified she’d been convinced that the woman was going to appear and capture her. They’d all memorised the trigger verse and had taken turns to leap alone so that if they were stranded they wouldn’t be scared.

They were ready to leap into the new picture and were caught up in the excitement. They didn’t even know if it was going to work, ‘I mean,’ reasoned Kerry, ‘What’s the chances of…’

‘Well? Should we do it?’ Emma’s eyes were shining.

They all nodded.

‘Let’s do it,’ Mark shouted making Kerry jump.

Each of them could feel the excitement pulsing through the next one’s hand as they stood in front of the picture. They chanted in unison:

Here is an image for you to keep:
Follow where the lizards leap.
Move with caution, take a peep,
Beware! Do not get in too deep.

Repeat the words inscribed below,
Take a breath and off you go.

Sand Lizard. Sand Lizard, cautiously creep.
Shim. Sham. Shally wham. Lizards leap.

When the world stopped spinning they were in for a surprise. They clearly hadn’t learned all of the frame’s secrets yet.

Staring at each other, they couldn’t believe what had happened to them. The girl’s leggings and tops were gone. Instead they wore frilly dresses that stopped halfway between their knees and ankles. And they had on long white stockings and black boots with buttons up the front.

Mark looked even more ridiculous. His jeans and Berok top had vanished, too, and he was wearing a floppy, wheat coloured shirt and beige trousers that stopped just below his knee. He had long white socks and black shoes with buckles on the front.

Emma, for the moment forgetting that she looked just as stupid, was the first to burst into hoots of laughter. ‘Look at Mark. He looks like Dick Wittington. Where’s your talking cat, Dick? Did it run away after it told you how stupid you look?’

‘If I’m Dick Wittington, you’re Little-Bo-Peep. Huh, you can’t even look after a few old sheep without losing them.’

‘Look at me. Just look at me.’ Vicki had a face like thunder.

‘She’s not happy,’ said Emma.

‘Seriously dis-chuffed,’ agreed Kerry.

‘Miffed as a muffin,’ said Mark.

Then a look passed over his face, one they all knew. The girls braced themselves for what was coming next.

‘I’m…,’ Mark began.

‘Starving.’ the girls said in unison.

Mark was ready to elaborate about just how hungry he was when his attention was redirected. In the distraction with the clothes, they had completely forgotten about the horse.

But the horse was more than interested in them. His head was lowered and he was pawing at the ground. Vicki knew a lot about horses; she subscribed to My Pony, a magazine all about them. She’d been saving up to buy a horse for years but whenever she had more than a pound saved, something else came up and she spent it, meaning that she had to revert to plan B and ask for one for Christmas.

‘It’s going to charge,’ she said confidently.

Nobody saw any reason to doubt her, including the horse. He made a furious noise and he wasn’t saying, 'How nice to meet you. Welcome to my field.' It was a long field with a big hill but even from a good distance they could see that he was angry. He set off at a gallop down the hill.

‘Run,’ Mark shouted unnecessarily.

They already were. They tore down the field with the sound of the horse’s hooves making up ground behind them. At the bottom, running parallel to the tall hedge was a wide ditch full of muddy water.

Emma was behind the others. She was running so fast that her body couldn’t keep up with her legs. ‘Steady on, legs,’ she panted, it one of her favourite sayings. Risking a look behind her she saw that the horse was not only going faster than she was but it was also getting closer. ‘Scrap that, legs. Go, go, go.’ She was frantic and managed to pump a fraction more speed out of her burning legs to catch up with the others.

‘Quick, into the ditch,’ Mark yelled. The horse was gaining on them and if the field had been shorter, they’d have already been tramped.

‘I am not going in that dirty water,’ whined Kerry, running towards the water nonetheless.

‘Just do it, Kez, or you’re going to be horse mush,’ Mark rasped at her.

‘Mash,’ Vicki rasped.

‘What?’

‘Horses,’ Vicki gasped, ‘eat mash, not mush.’ She pumped her arms up over her chest to gain more speed.

‘Don't be ridiculous. I’ve never seen a horse eating potato.’

The horse was almost on top of them. They launched themselves into the stinking muddy water in the ditch, ducked and pressed themselves against the hedge behind them. They were just in time to see the horse's fawn belly sail over their heads and heard him land safely on the other side of the fence and gallop off across the next field.