Bran Hambric: The Farfield Curse (7 page)

"At least we’ve got those black boxes to keep us safe when we’re watching television," Sewey said as he fluffed his paper again. The year before, he had come home with a set of black boxes and plugged one into the back of each television in the house. He proclaimed they were for the preservation of the household’s decency, so that channel zero, the Mages Entertainment Channel, would be nothing but static.

"Under the rule of the Imperial Countries," Sewey went on, "Dunce has a legal right to make up its own rules, as long as it doesn’t go against the orders of the Queen or the Senate, and they haven’t made any address making magic or gnomes legal or illegal anywhere." His voice grew louder. "Gnomes are animals like dragons and duggins and ogres. Those all live far away from civilized towns, and gnomes should just as well join them." He slammed his fist on the table yet again, making Baldretta jump. "We’ve gotten along just fine without them!" he roared, and seized with a sudden fit of anti-gnome zeal, he leapt upon his chair and pointed toward the sky.

"No gnomes!" he shouted. "No mages! And no ETCETERAS!"

"Hear, hear!" Mabel and Balder chanted, raising their glasses of milk, and Baldretta looked at them as if they had all gone mad.

Sewey stood in that position for a whole minute, looking very patriotic, until he looked down and saw Mabel and Balder cheering for him. He bowed, but lost his balance and came crashing to the floor.

Everyone gasped. His head popped from under the table, an envelope stuck in his hair.

"Ahem…" he stammered. "Well then…I’m off to work!"

He stood and stretched, reaching into his coat for his pocket watch. His hand came out empty.

"Hmmm," he said suspiciously. He went on to search through every pocket in his shirt and pants, and then even in his shoes. No pocket watch.

"Rot," Sewey said. "Where’s that bloody watch?"

"Maybe a gnome took it," Bran said with a fake gasp. Sewey crossed his arms.

"You’re right!" He kicked the pile of bills in fury. "Filthy gnomes! Can’t escape them!"

Sewey left his dishes behind and went downstairs, taking his briefcase and coat. He rushed to his car, only to find that his keys were nowhere to be found.

"Rot," he breathed. Then he remembered his emergency key. However, after checking under the car, he found that he had taken it inside with him the night before. "Double rot." But then he remembered he kept
two
emergency keys, and walked to the other side of the car and reached above the wheel. He kissed the key and slid it in. He noticed Mr. Swinehic outside, tossing birdseed to the pigeons. An etcetera if he’d ever seen one.

"Makes too much money for his own good," Sewey murmured. Then, turning the ignition, he noticed something else: a curious new vehicle parked down the street. "A black van?" he said aloud, wondering who was visiting. He kept tabs on every Bolton Roader’s vehicle, because he was nosy and abhorred parties. Any time there was a gathering of new cars at a house, it meant a party. It also meant a courtesy call from Sewey to the police department the moment he heard a peep of their awful party music. However, he shrugged and decided not to let it bother him…yet. He turned his dial to the Radio Dunce morning show as he passed the van and continued on his way.

"
You’re listening to Dan the Man on Radio Dunce!
" the announcer said over a jingle that Sewey abhorred. He turned out of the neighborhood and onto the major road, crowded with cars and trucks heading for downtown. He abhorred them too, each and every one.

"
Hello, I am Dan the Man,
" the familiar voice of Sewey’s favorite talk show host came on.
"You’re just in time for your morning Dash of Dunce news, and this just in: Mr. Parget’s cow is loose down on Eggsworth Street!
"

"Oh joy, a cow loose in Dunce," Sewey snorted. "That will
surely
drive up property value."

"
Cows in the city! The idea!
" Dan agreed. "
Here’s another news item: Reports of sleezebirds migrating early next month. That means no more firecrackers or sky shooting."

"Even
worse
than cows." Sewey sniffed. Every year, the sleezebirds would migrate north over Dunce after fattening themselves to the size of cars on atom rats in the Chubbie Wastelands. Last year, the city had tried firecrackers to scare them off, but then the birds only landed to watch the show, denting the car roofs and snapping the power lines they perched their weight upon.

"Speaking of loud noises,"
Dan went on.
"Last night, a madman was reportedly shooting on Bolton Road, as heard by twelve witnesses!
"

"Imagine," Sewey said, shocked "That was on
my
street!" He came to a red light but ignored it, sending cars swerving to avoid him, honking their horns. "Quiet down, I’m trying to hear!" he roared, turning the radio up to cover their awful racket.

"
And,
" the radio went on, "
there was reportedly the same madman causing a disturbance in the alley next to Crab, Nab, and Hawkin Law Firm, where he was boxed in by a police officer.
"

"I can’t believe it. I was there yesterday!" Sewey scolded himself for not keeping a sharper eye out for the madman. He wished he had been there to catch him and be featured on the news.

"
Since there’s nothing going on here
…" A stack of paper was thrown across the room in disgust, "
I might as well go on to international news, and, surprise, surprise: the Activists for Gnome Equality are on the move again with marches in capitol Hildem.
"

"Gnome equality, my foot," Sewey growled. Even though laws outside Dunce allowed gnomes, many outsiders were still vastly prejudiced against them, causing much controversy.

"
They stood outside for hours, waving ‘Gnomes are People too’ signs. Thankfully, resident senators from Dunce took care of the matter, and promptly set their dogs loose on the picketers.
"

"A perfectly sensible idea!" Sewey nodded with satisfaction, proud that his senators were doing such a good job protecting his freedoms.

Dan gave a giant guffaw. "
Looks like the gnomes’ beards and pointy caps can’t help them this time! I can’t believe that creatures so small could cause such big problems!
"

"Small?" Sewey echoed, not sure he had heard Dan correctly. "Pointy caps? Beards? Well, the gnome that came to
my
house was certainly not small."
Dan and the officer must not know their gnomes,
he thought
.
He was so glad he was one of the smartest men in town, knowing all he did. He decided that there must be two types of gnomes—the tall and the small—and that Dan, the officer, and the rest of the world for that matter, were just confused.

In fact, his wisdom was so distracting, he ran another red light. A car nicked his rear fender, sending the Schweezer soaring into a crosswalk and through oncoming traffic. An old woman leapt to safety, leaving her cane and wig behind; however, at just that moment, a gigantic ice-cream truck hurtled in Sewey’s direction.

"Dah!" Sewey yelped, pulling on the wheel. Both vehicles swerved from each other in the nick of time. The truck teetered and rocked, tipping over so far that entire canisters of Vanilla Vonsway and Tattered Da-Chocolate tumbled into the street.

Sewey swerved the Schweezer back onto his side of the road and weaved into the highway, turning Dan up even louder to drown out his overworked engine.

"
And for the top Mage-news story today!
" Dan went on. "
The Mages Council announced they would allow Mr. Tomstone, a
gnome
, into the Guild of Historians! Can you believe it? I do—that’s what those mages are coming to these days…little, creeping, garden-planting rats!
"

Sewey and Dan both broke out into peals of laughter. Between chortles and chuckles, Sewey managed to glance at his rearview mirror.

Suddenly, he went stiff. He took a second look at what was following him.

"That’s odd," he said with a hint of fright. "It looks
just
like the black van I saw earlier!"

Chapter 6

Secret Letters

The black van lurked behind Sewey’s car in the flow of traffic, on the side. Its windows were tinted darkly and he couldn’t see inside.

He continued to drive, trying to ignore it. However, it appeared to be overtaking his mirror, as if it might run him off the road, chariot-races style. No matter how he weaved through the cars, the black van always seemed to be right behind him. Sewey’s first thought was that it might be an undercover police car, so he immediately looked away. But then he figured the driver of the van was probably in league with the gnome on the roof of his house last night.

"The rude pig," Sewey sniffed. "As if ruining my evening wasn’t enough!"

His revolver was in his briefcase, so while swerving through traffic with one arm, he used the other to dislodge the gun from one of the pockets, in case it might soon be needed.

"Wait until Adi hears of this!" he snarled as he drove, keeping a cautious eye on the van.

Sewey worked at the Third Bank of Dunce, sometimes simply known as the TBD. It was the only bank nearby, as the First and Second Banks of Dunce had already gone bankrupt. It sat in a row of buildings in the old downtown— one of many large and crumbling establishments, with a plain brick front, a plain wooden door, and a pair of plain columns. The gigantic clock above had been stuck at 3:14 for half a dozen years, but the building was so boring anyway that no one had bothered to fix it, because hardly anyone even noticed.

Luckily, that was just the way Sewey liked it. When he had parked in his usual spot at the NO PARKING: TOW AWAY ZONE sign, he opened the car door very slowly and looked down the street. The very second he did, the black van passed.

"Rot!" he yelped, frantically swinging his door shut again. His eyes followed the van as it passed, going to the end of the street and turning. Sewey clutched his revolver close until the van disappeared.

"Good." He stepped out, examining the passersby warily.

There’s probably more disguised gnomes mixed in with the lot of them,
he thought bitterly as he went up to the bank.

It was chilly indoors. Adi Copplestone, his secretary, was at her desk.

"Good morning," she greeted him, not looking up from her computer.

"Bad morning!" he retorted loudly.

Adi looked up and jumped. "Mr. Wilomas!" she gasped. "Whatever are you doing with that gun?!"

"Well…" He waved it around and then shoved it into his pocket. "I’ve only just had the
worst
twenty-four hours of my life, thank you very much."

Adi seemed relieved the gun wasn’t intended for its usual purpose when wielded by a person walking into a bank. She tore her gaze away from him and started to type again.

"Come now, Mr. Wilomas, it’s only morning," she said.

"And it’s already started off as a bad one," Sewey snorted. "I chased a gnome all the way to Officer McMason last night, and I was chased
by
gnomes all the way to work today!"

Sewey tossed his coat onto a hanger next to the brooms. Adi just nodded. She was used to Sewey’s escapades. She had thin glasses on a chain around her neck, shoulder-length, light blond hair, and green eyes, and was in her mid-twenties. She was the type of person who knew practically everyone in town, and no one could ever expect her to do anything wrong simply because she was Adi. To them
Adi
spelled
normal.
But even though she was very popular among the townspeople, to Sewey, she was just his secretary.

"Catch any burglars last night, Soo?" Ben Baggeater asked, coming out of his office with a cup of coffee.

"DO NOT CALL ME SOO!" Sewey roared. "That bloody burglar got away, and hopefully for good—or so I thought, until this morning he chased me to work."

Ben shrugged. Sewey, seeing no one was listening, spun off for his usual inspection of the vault, grumbling curses at Ben as he did. Ever since the Accident, Sewey had been wary of approaching that big, round metal door. Madame Mobicci and the Board of Directors would certainly not be happy if a second orphan was found in there, so Sewey made a point of pressing his ear to the door before opening it, just in case.

Inside was a long, tube-shaped room, the floor and shelves littered with everything from safe deposit boxes to antique furniture dumped by the board members. Most of the money bags were filled with sawdust to throw off would-be burglars, but the trick worked on bank examiners just as well.

Sewey took a glance, then slammed it shut. "Wonderful. The burglars in this town are too busy bothering
me
to even think of the vault."

He started for his office, when his eye narrowly caught a disappearing shape in the front glass.

"There it is again!" Sewey gasped, pointing toward the window. Adi jerked her head up.

"What?" she said. "Where is it?"

"I just saw it pass," Sewey said, rushing to the window. "It was a black van, the same one that chased me to work this morning."

Adi arose from her desk to take a look, and Ben rushed to Sewey’s side. But unfortunately, by the time they had all reached the window, the van had already disappeared. Sewey looked both ways, but it only made him appear more like a fool. Adi looked at him strangely.

"Well, it was
right there,
" Sewey insisted. "They’re following me, I tell you!"

"What herbs did Mabel give you this morning?" Ben asked with the slightest hint of a snicker.

Sewey, utterly infuriated, threw his hands into the air and went to his office, and refused to speak to either of them for the rest of the day.

Meanwhile, back at the house, Baldretta had finally surrendered the remote to her brother.

"
Welcome to the Bean Bag Show!
" the television speakers boomed into the living room. Bran let his shoulders drop. Balder’s eyes were firmly glued to the biggest screen in the house.