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Authors: Jon Berkeley

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BOOK: The Hidden Boy
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B
ea Flint sneaked a biscuit from a plate that sat in the center of the table. She had not had a moment to look for worms to give to Nails, and she knew he must be hungry. Worms were among the meerkat's favorite dishes, but the mere idea of feeding them to him made Bea's skin crawl. Biscuits were not nearly so good for him, but at least she did not have to imagine them silently screaming as his sharp little teeth crunched them up.

She opened the zipper on the backpack just enough to fit the biscuit through. Unfortunately a gap that will just fit a large biscuit will also just fit a small meerkat. Nails was tired of being cooped up in the dark, and when he heard the zipper opening he grabbed his chance. He was out of the bag and running across the moon-striped floor before you could say “escaped meerkat.”

“Ndah!” said Bea. It was one of those meaningless words that come out when you are taken so much by surprise that your tongue gets ahead of your brain. Out on the lamplit verandah Granny Delphine looked around for a moment and frowned into the darkened living room before returning to the conversation.

Phoebe stared after the fugitive meerkat in astonishment. “That's Nails!” she whispered loudly.

“I
know
that!” said Bea. She grabbed another biscuit from the plate and crept across the floor, following the direction that Nails had taken. Through the open back door she could see him running along the edge of the back porch, looking for a route to the ground. “Nails!” whispered Bea, making kissing noises with her lips. “Come here, Nails. I've got bikkies. Nice bikkies.”

The meerkat stood up and looked back at her. His head ducked up and down as he examined the biscuit. He had been too busy escaping to eat the one that she had posted into the stuffy backpack, but his hunger made this one look particularly biscuity, and escape didn't seem so urgent now that he was in the open air. He turned and took a few steps back toward her, but at that moment Phoebe appeared on the porch. Nails knew an ambush when he saw one. He ran back along
the porch and took a flying leap at a slender branch that stretched out from a neighboring tree and ended several feet away. He scrabbled for purchase among the dancing leaves; then he was off along the branch and down the trunk in the blink of an eye. Biscuits were all very well, the meerkat was thinking, but his usual boy gave him worms and beetles. He had no idea where Theo was, but he had a good sense of direction and his priorities were clear. Worms and beetles would be back on the menu if he had any say in the matter.

Bea sat back on her heels on the back porch, fifteen feet above the ground. “I almost had him,” she hissed.

“But how did he get here?” asked Phoebe. She held the Squeak Jar under one arm, and the end of the listening horn poked out of her pocket.

“How do you think?” said Bea. She was too annoyed to worry about trying to keep her secret. “He came in Theo's backpack.”

“I thought we weren't supposed to bring pets,” said Phoebe.

“We couldn't very well leave him with…” Bea looked at Phoebe and stopped herself. “…on his own,” she finished. She turned quickly and looked down into the moonlit clearing. Nails was looking back over his
shoulder from a little way along the path. He knew if he stopped and waited Bea would come after him. He was not about to be caught just yet, but he didn't want to get lost either.

“We have to go after him,” said Bea. They lowered the ladder—another jointed one like the one that Mr. Miller had called down from the front verandah—being careful not to make any noise. Bea put the jar and the horn into Theo's backpack.

“We'd better put the ladder back up,” Bea whispered when they reached the ground.

Phoebe shook her head. “They might hear us.”

“They're too busy arguing.”

“Except your pa. He's too busy snoring.”

Bea put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing, which made snot come out of her nose instead.

“Mr. Miller seemed pretty worried about pulling it up after us when we arrived,” she insisted when she had recovered herself.

Phoebe shrugged. “Okay.” She ran silently back up the ladder and began to haul it up after her.

“Yes, but how will you—,” began Bea, but Phoebe had already stowed the ladder and launched herself into
the air. She landed on the soft earth with a thump—a small one—and sprang back up like a gymnast ending her routine.

“Let's go!” she said. They followed Nails along the path that led back toward Cambio Falls. The meerkat kept his distance, but he stopped every now and then and looked back to make sure they were following him. The moon hung near the horizon, as fat and blue as a tropical fish, and their shadows stretched out behind them like slender marionettes.

They passed between the dark silhouettes of houses perched like angular bird nests in the trees on either side of the path. Lamps burned outside some of them, but there was no sign that anyone else was awake.

“What do you think they're afraid of?” said Phoebe.

“Who says they're afraid?” said Bea.

“Look at all those thornbushes.”

Bea peered into the shadows beneath the tree houses. “What about them?”

“They're always right below the windows.” Phoebe saw most things in terms of the opportunities they presented for jumping, climbing or dangerous feats of acrobatics. She had noticed right away that it would be difficult to do any of those things around these houses,
unless you wanted to end up looking like you had sat on a porcupine.

“Maybe they get a lot of burglars,” said Bea.

The path was sloping gently downward now. The number of houses dwindled to nothing, and the trees grew closer together. The meerkat stayed ten leaps ahead, his tail standing up like an antenna. The night did not get quieter as they left the town behind. On the contrary, the farther they got from Bell Hoot the more it sounded like a miniature metropolis was hidden among the trees. On all sides there was a symphony of squeaks and clicks, coughs and whistles, hooting and hissing and the occasional distant howl. Dry leaves rustled with the passing of little claws and the swishing of tails, and nightbirds floated silently through the darkness, flapping only when they had to.

Phoebe stopped and grabbed Bea's arm so suddenly that she almost jumped out of her skin. She pointed into the shadows beneath the trees, and Bea caught a glimpse of a pair of large round eyes staring out at them. The eyes blinked, and for a moment she thought she saw the shape of a boy slipping away into the darkness.

“Someone's spying on us,” said Phoebe.

“Maybe it was just a monkey,” said Bea doubtfully.

Phoebe laughed. “Monkeys don't wear hats!” she said. She plunged into the bushes where the boy had been a moment before. “Let's follow him,” she called.

“We can't,” said Bea. “We'll lose Nails.” She looked along the path and saw the meerkat lolloping along toward the falls. Phoebe had already vanished among the trees. “Phoebe!” she called urgently. “We have to go. And we don't know who's in there.”

“You go ahead,” came Phoebe's voice. “I'll catch up.” The nocturnal racket had intensified around her as birds scolded, and the ground shook with what sounded like startled rabbits thumping their alarms.

Bea was torn between the desire to follow Phoebe into the thick of the teeming forest and the urgency of following Nails. There was no real choice, of course. All they had left of Theo was his disembodied voice and the rapidly receding meerkat, and if she lost sight of Nails she might never see him again. “Don't go far,” she called after Phoebe. She rejoined the path. She felt nervous now on her own. The path seemed less welcoming, and the leaves muttered in the night breeze.

Nails was far ahead now, and she had to hurry to catch up with him. She kept her ears open for any sign of Phoebe. After a while she noticed a soft hum
behind all the noise. She could not tell what it was, but it brought to her mind's eye a picture of sunlight, put to rest somewhere for the night but never quite sleeping. She took some comfort from it, but no matter how she strained she could not hear it more clearly. As she approached the falls the sound was drowned out by the growing roar of the water.

Where the path emerged from the trees Nails paused and stood up straight like a miniature security guard. His whiskers twitched and his pointed nose turned from side to side as he surveyed the area. The Blue Moon Mobile stood silently by the water's edge as though it hadn't moved in years. The meerkat ran toward it. When he reached the busmarine he stood and placed his front paws against the curved metal hull.

“Theo's not there,” said Bea quietly.

The meerkat looked back at her, and Bea could have sworn he jerked his head as though beckoning to her. She rubbed her eyes and crept closer to where Nails stood. She was afraid that he would run away if she got too near, but his eyes seemed to be fixed on the Blue Moon Mobile's painted hull. As she neared the busmarine she could see a black line between two of the metal panels below the level of the busmarine's floor. It looked as if a luggage compartment had been left
slightly open. She could not be sure in the dim light of the moon, but it seemed the gap was getting gradually wider.

She held her breath and leaned in for a closer look. Two of the screws that held the panel in place were turning by themselves. There was no doubt about it. She could see another couple of screws glinting in the grass beside her, where they had already fallen out. She took in a sharp breath and grabbed Nails just in time. The heavy steel panel fell outward with a dull thud, narrowly missing them both.

A wave of hot stuffy air escaped the dark compartment, and a gasp came with it. Bea's heart missed a beat. “Theo?” she said. There was a scrabbling sound from inside; then a hand quickly emerged. It was a large hand with long articulate fingers. It was certainly not Theo's. Bea's heart plummeted. The hand grasped the top edge of the panel and tried to pull it back into place, but without success. The panel was heavy, and became heavier still when Bea planted her foot on it. The hand withdrew.

“Who's there?” said Bea. “And what have you done with Theo?”

“Theo?” echoed a voice from the darkness.

“Come out where we can see you,” said Phoebe
from behind Bea, making her jump.

A head appeared, followed by a long thin body in a pair of dirty overalls. A greasy rag was stuffed half into the breast pocket, and a set of wrenches clinked in a tool belt. The man got to his knees, then straightened up stiffly. His face was round and open. He wore an impressive handlebar mustache that swept up to join a set of thick graying whiskers. His hair was long and slicked back. He looked at the two girls with a befuddled expression. “Am I late?” he said.

“Late for what?” said Phoebe.

“I just came to,” said the man. He spoke slowly. “I was fixing the ice-cream machine, but I got my head stuck in the freezalizer. Knocked me out cold.” He got slowly to his feet, creaking like a frozen deck chair. “Again,” he added ruefully.

“So that's why it wasn't working,” said Bea.

The man nodded. “You can only get at it from underneath. It needs a new freezalizer unit, but it has to come from Japan. I keep fixing the old one until it comes. It's a long way from Japan, you know.” He looked at Bea and smiled; then his eyes opened wide as he spotted the meerkat struggling in her arms. “Nice doggie!” he said, and his smile grew even wider.

“He's a meerkat,” said Bea. She did not know what to make of this man. It was impossible to tell how old he was. He might have been forty or seventy. His face was lined, but there was a childlike innocence in his expression.

“Nice meerkat,” said the man. “Nice doggie.” He reached out to stroke Nails.

“Careful,” said Bea. “He bites strangers.” To her surprise the meerkat did nothing of the sort. He stopped wriggling. He pushed his head against the man's hand and allowed himself to be tickled under his chin.

“I'm not a stranger,” said the stranger. “I'm Arkadi. Everybody knows Arkadi. I fix things.”

“Except when you get your head stuck in the freezalizer,” said Bea.

The man nodded again. If he had taken offense he didn't show it. “I only woke up because it thawed out. Lucky I…” But he got no further. He caught sight of the moon and the simple smile left his face at once. His jaw dropped open and he stared wildly about him.

“Where are we?” he asked in a loud whisper.

“I think it's called Bell Hoot,” said Bea.

“That's the town,” said Phoebe.

“Bell Hoot,” repeated the stranger, and to look at
him you would think he had just been told he was in a tank of hungry crocodiles. “Uh-oh. I'm in trouble. Big, big trouble.”

“I don't think they'll hang you for nearly getting your head turned into ice cream,” said Bea.

Arkadi sank down to the ground and sat there cross-legged, his knuckles pressed to his mouth. “I'm not supposed to be here,” he said.

“I'm sure it will be okay,” said Bea. “We'll bring you back to the Millers' house and…” She was about to say she was sure that Captain Bontoc would arrange to have him sent back, but she remembered the conversation on the verandah, and she had a feeling it would not be that simple.

The stranger shook his head violently. “Don't tell anyone,” he said. “I'm only supposed to fix the machines.”

“It wasn't your fault,” said Bea.

“That won't matter,” said Arkadi. He stared wide-eyed at the two girls. “Promise you won't tell anyone.”

Bea looked at Phoebe. Her arms were scratched and her T-shirt was torn. Phoebe shrugged. “I promise,” she said.

Arkadi looked at Bea. “Promise?” he said.

“I promise,” she said. She felt sorry for the shivering stranger.

A look of relief came over his face. “Someone must have locked me in,” he said.

BOOK: The Hidden Boy
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