Howzat! (22 page)

‘Come on, time to go,’ I said, leading Jimbo and Scott up the main central aisle of the stand. We arrived at the turnstile room.

‘We’re going to do one last check of this Godforsaken place,’ the suited man announced. He and three others headed back out.

‘Guys, I’m going back to the scoreboard,’ I said.

‘I’ll come too, Toby,’ Jimbo said. ‘Scott?’

‘Sure, man. I’m in.’

‘No, I have to do this alone,’ I said.

‘Rubbish, Toby. You don’t have to do anything alone. Come on.’ We headed back upstairs, only to be stopped by the suited man.

‘It’s all clear,’ he said. ‘You boys can go—’

‘John,’ a man interrupted, joining us. ‘There’s an old guy up the back corner.’

‘Well, why isn’t he here?’

‘He’s passed away. Maybe a heart attack. But there’s something—’

‘Oh no,’ I groaned, suddenly rushing back out. Was it Jim? My heart pounding, I charged up the stairs. ‘Where is he?’ I shouted. The others were just behind me.

‘Over—’ The man’s voice froze. We looked in the direction of his pointing finger.

‘Good Lord,’ someone else breathed. As we watched, the guy who was slouched in the seat was slowly changing form. ‘What’s happening to him?’ His body was fading in and out, disappearing then reappearing, but fainter each time.

‘He’s turning into a Grubber,’ I said, finally turning away. ‘Come on. There’s nothing we can do.’

‘Hey, where are you going?’ the man asked.

‘Leave him,’ I heard the man in the suit say. ‘That kid has saved everyone here today. He knows what he’s doing.’

My thoughts turned to Jim and Georgie. What could I do to help them?

Monday—afternoon

With the others close behind me, I headed down the main stairs and onto the walkway that would lead us back to the scoreboard.

‘What’s that noise?’ Jimbo asked, stopping suddenly. There was a strange banging and clattering coming from the scoreboard. I stopped dead too. It was only then I noticed that on the grass below, there were just a few pieces of wood and other material. There was no body.

‘She’s gone!’ I cried, running towards the scoreboard.

‘Who?’ Scott asked, sprinting after me. We ran up the incline. A loud cry came from above.

‘Toby!’ Jimbo called. He had recognised Georgie’s scream. We looked up as she appeared at one of the rectangular windows.

‘Quick!’ I yelled, rushing up to the scoreboard’s edge as Georgie fell through the opening. The others joined me, instinctively reaching their arms out as
Georgie plummeted through the air. She fell into our arms, the weight of her body sending us crashing to the ground. I heard someone groan. Slowly I opened my eyes, dazed and aching all over. Her foot had connected with the side of my head.

‘Toby? You okay?’ I watched through blurred eyes as Jimbo got up onto one elbow. ‘Scott?’

‘Bloody hell,’ he said.

‘Toby? Is that you?’ Georgie whispered.

I tried to sit up but fell back, a bolt of pain surging through my leg. But I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face, and when Georgie pressed her hand into mine, I finally let the tears come.

I don’t know how, or how long it took, but when I opened my eyes I was lying in my bed at home.

‘Well, well. The hero awakes.’

‘Jim?’ I cried, sitting up. My head hurt and a wave of nausea swept over me; I slumped back down again.

‘I’m afraid not, lad. It’s only your father.’

‘Dad? What happened?’

‘Now that’s a question that a lot of people are asking,’ he said softly, running a hand gently through my hair. ‘Every newspaper, news show and radio station wants a piece of you.’

‘The cricketers have returned?’

‘Every one of them plus all the other kids and babies that disappeared at the same time.’ I closed my eyes and smiled. ‘We did it, Jim,’ I said under my breath. ‘What about Jim?’ I asked in a louder voice.

‘No sign of him. I think you should—’

‘Dad, I need a
Wisden
,’ I said, slowly trying to sit up again. The pain in my head wasn’t quite as sharp as before.

‘Toby, now’s not the time—’

‘Dad, please. There’s someone I want you to meet.’

‘Toby, just lie back down—’

‘The
Wisden
, Dad. It’s just over there.’ I pointed to the bookshelf.

‘There’s something you haven’t been telling me, isn’t there?’ he said softly, getting up off the bed.

‘How long have I been back?’

‘Back?’

‘Where was I? How did I get here?’

‘Well, you and Georgie were found in Rahul’s garden. You were unconscious and Georgie wasn’t much better.’

‘And the others? Jimbo?’

‘They’ve all called. Even Scott.’ I leaned back against the pillow and sighed.

‘Dad, I’m going to explain everything,’ I said. ‘I promise. But first, you’ve got to open the
Wisden
.’

‘Which one?’ It sounded like he was playing along with my game, humouring me to keep me happy.

‘Any one. It doesn’t matter.’

‘Okay. You want me to read to you?’

‘No. I want you to open it up to a scorecard.’

‘Any scorecard?’

‘Yes. Find a zero.’

‘Well, there’s plenty of those. Look at them all.’ Dad held the book open for me.

‘I can’t see them, Dad.’

‘What do you mean you can’t see them? Is there something wrong with your eyes?’ He came back to sit next to me, looking from me to the open page.

‘Nothing, it’s just that I can’t ever see the writing in a
Wisden
.’

‘Why on earth not?’

‘Well, that’s another thing I’ve got to explain to you. Where’s the zero, Dad? Can you put my finger on it?’

‘Sure, Toby.’ He took hold of my hand and slowly guided my finger into the mysterious cloud of black and white.

‘Dad, don’t let go,’ I said quickly, as a zero rose from the page.

The first thing I felt was warmth on my bare arms. For a fleeting moment I thought I must have come to the wrong place, but there in front of us, only 50 metres away, was the cricket oval. I’m not sure who was the more surprised. Dad just stood there, his mouth wide open, staring at the scene in front of him.

I was gawping too. The cold, grey, desolate place that had been the Timeless Cricket Match was now green and beautiful. There was a small scattering of people, sitting in the sunshine watching the game out in the middle.

Quickly I looked over to the scoreboard. It still looked old and run-down and had obviously been patched up in places, but there were no broken
pieces of wood lying on the lush green ground below.

‘Come on, Dad.’ I took his hand and we ambled slowly away to our left.

‘T-Toby, what’s going on?’

‘I’m going to let Jim explain all that,’ I grinned. Gentle applause broke out around the ground. The batter had just stroked the ball neatly through the covers. I looked closely at the fielder chasing the ball, recognising him straight away. He was the old man whose body we had seen transform into a spirit. I glanced up into the stand; the place where he had been sitting was empty.

The thought suddenly occurred to me that at some long distant point in the future, I might be playing out there. Glancing at Dad’s pale and anxious face I quickened the pace, hoping desperately that Jim would be where I left him; and alive too.

Ignoring Dad’s gasps of surprise and wonder, I climbed the steps into the first level of the scoreboard.

‘Jim?’ My voice echoed around the bare wooden room.

‘Toby?’ Jim’s voice rang out from the level above.

‘C’mon, Dad,’ I shouted, dragging him across the room. I let go his hand and flew up the stairs, rushing into Jim’s outstretched arms. ‘You’re okay,’ I said, as he held me close.

‘As good as gold,’ he beamed, looking me up and down. ‘Peter!’ Dad looked from me to Jim, astonishment written all over his face. ‘Toby, why
don’t you score here while I take Peter upstairs and show him the sights?’

‘Where’s the old scorebook?’ I asked, looking around for the table it had been on last time I was here.

‘Ah, we have official scorers now,’ he beamed. ‘Over in the main stand. There have been a lot of changes around here, as you probably saw.’

‘It’s certainly a nice spot to be,’ I agreed, turning to sit on a small chair. I looked out through an opening onto the ground below. Jim led Dad up the next flight of stairs. I had plenty of my own questions for Jim, but they were going to have to wait.

It must have been almost an hour later when Dad finally emerged, carefully descending the metal stairs.

‘Of course I knew all along,’ he said, walking slowly towards me. Jim was just behind him.

‘Knew what? That I could time travel?’

‘No, no. That you’ll play Test cricket one day.’ I glanced at Jim. He was smiling.

‘Nothing is certain, Peter.’

‘You can say that again,’ Dad said. The three of us stood there for a moment in a comfortable silence.

‘All the Grubbers have gone?’ I asked Jim, looking back out the small opening towards the stand.

‘All the bad ones, yes. And we have spectators slowly arriving so the Timeless Cricket Match is safe again.’

‘And Father Time? He’s gone too?’

‘Thanks to you, Toby. He made a terrible mistake. His arrogance destroyed him.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You remember up here in the scoreboard? He regressed you. I could see it happening through my own eyes yet I was powerless to do anything to stop him. But then he
aged
you, Toby. And that was his mistake.’

I recalled my gnarled and wrinkled hands and arms and the painful effort required to throw the cricket ball.

‘Why?’

‘You are a Cricket Lord, Toby, but a very young one. Your powers are nowhere near developed to their full potential. But when he aged you, suddenly he was confronted by all those years of wisdom and knowledge. Between the two of us, in those brief few minutes, we were able to overwhelm him.’

‘But why didn’t he just age me to death?’

‘You are a Cricket Lord, Toby. It’s not quite that easy.’ I thought about the weird dreams I’d had as I’d moved forward and backwards in time. I mentioned them to Jim.

‘Have I really been into the future?’

Jim smiled, slowly shaking his head. ‘It is a future you won’t recognise, Toby.’

‘So it won’t happen the way I saw it?’

‘No, I believe not.’

‘And Georgie? I thought she was dead.’

‘For a little while there, she may well have been. But I waited.’ Jim took out one of the wooden pieces, replacing it with another board.

‘Waited?’

‘I waited for you boys to return.’

‘You mean Scott and Jimbo? You knew we’d come back?’

‘Oh yes. When you’ve travelled around time as much as I have, Toby, you come to know all sorts of things that have happened or are going to happen.’

‘And the Grubbers?’

‘They wouldn’t have harmed anyone.’

‘But they attacked me and you.’

‘That’s true. We are Cricket Lords, and they knew that. As Cricket Lords we are also time travellers. We were vehicles for them to escape the Timeless Cricket Match and return to real cricket.’

‘So that’s why they didn’t attack anyone else?’

‘No. They were never meant to return.’

‘But why didn’t the Grubbers destroy the turnstile?’

‘Because it never existed until you answered those questions.’

‘From the guy in the grey coat?’ I asked. Jim nodded. ‘But—’

‘Enough for now, Toby. It’s time for you to take Peter home again. There is as much to do there as there is here.’ Dad moved away from the opening.

‘Will you come back with us?’ I asked, already knowing the answer.

‘Soon, Toby, but not yet.’ He rested a hand on my shoulder, sensing my disappointment. ‘Soon.’