Von Gobstopper's Arcade (17 page)

The veins in Fritz’s neck throbbed and he lunged at Dr Illustrious. He was intercepted by Mince and Wince who shoved him back against the wall. Dr Illustrious looked mildly entertained.

‘Have you learned so little from our encounters, children? Have you not seen that strength is rewarded and innocence punished? The golliwogs soon realised that—they work for me now.’

‘Only because you did something to them!’ shouted Milli.

‘Now, now,’ Dr Illustrious chided. ‘A tweak here and there never hurt anybody. We all have a dark side—all I did was tap into theirs.’

‘This is the saddest you’ve ever been,’ taunted Milli, ‘vandalising toys to make yourself feel powerful.’

‘Oh, but you are quite wrong. It isn’t power that motivates me these days. I’ve moved on from that to something infinitely more satisfying. Can you guess what it might be?’ Dr Illustrious allowed the silence to expand before answering his own question. ‘Revenge, of course. Did you think I would endure public humiliation without trying to settle the score?’

‘You think you’ll get revenge on us by ruining toys?’ Ernest asked in disbelief.

‘Not exactly. Allow me to show you the method behind the madness. As a fellow scientist, I think you’ll appreciate this.’

Dr Illustrious glided from the room, indicating that Tempest and the trio of bodyguards should follow. The thugs gripped Fritz and the children roughly by the arms and hauled them off down the passage too.

Milli noticed that as soon as Dr Illustrious had left the room, the doctors snapped shut their clipboards in relief and resumed their conversations about snow sports and home renovations.

There was a smell like burning rubber throughout the tunnel-like passages. Milli and Ernest tried to take in as much as they could of their route for future reference but were hampered by the low-flying bats that kept swooping over their heads. They could hear the hum of machinery and clattering from the pipes that ran along the length of the ceiling. In the walls were mausoleum-like compartments and Milli wondered what they contained. At one point they heard shuffling sounds and saw that it came from the padded slippers of the surgeons who scuttled through the passageways like rats in a maze. Their groups parted respectfully on sighting Dr Illustrious, allowing him room to pass.

Finally Dr Illustrious stopped at a large wooden door heavy with giant hinges and bolts. There was tinsel draped above the lintel, the
handles were in the shape of antlers and a Christmas wreath hung from one. Most baffling of all were the words written in Christmas lights:

Santa’s Workshop

The children and Fritz looked at one another, puzzled. What possible connection could there be between the jolly man in a red suit whose arrival was eagerly awaited at the end of each year by children across the globe and the deadly Dr Illustrious?

Dr Illustrious flung open the door to reveal a large room filled with the smell of burning. A great open furnace with a stone hearth stood in one corner, and inside it was a huge Christmas tree, blazing so fiercely the children had to shield their eyes from the heat. The tree was reduced to a pile of ash so quickly they knew it must be an enchanted fire. A group of small trolls appeared hauling another tree, which they threw in to reignite the blaze. They were hideous-looking creatures with flattened faces and tufts of coarse black hair sprouting from
their nostrils and chins. Their ears were bat-like, they had swollen potbellies, and their arms and legs were lumpy with queer-shaped growths. Their green eyes were bright and round, and they grumbled and cursed as they worked. The children realised they were a horrible distortion of Santa’s helpers.

In the middle of the room was a half-finished version of what looked like Santa’s sleigh. Trolls clambered over it like insects, applying paint and lacquer where needed, stitching the seats and polishing the headlamps. A group of six reindeer were harnessed to the sleigh, but they weren’t the sort of reindeer children fantasise about seeing the night before Christmas. These are usually gentle-faced and friendly-looking. The reindeer in Santa’s Workshop had matted coats, their antlers appeared to have been sharpened into spikes and their eyes were large, bloodshot and mad-looking. The biggest of them, presumably the much celebrated Rudolph, was the grumpiest of all. His red nose was badly inflamed from a cold and flies buzzed around his ears, which were moth-eaten like a wool coat that has been too long in storage.

The trolls not tending the fire or preparing the sleigh were busy packing toys, their actions synchronised like those of workers on an assembly line. On the floor was a huge pile of striped gift boxes. Troll one handed a box to troll two, who randomly selected a mutant toy from the rows on the benches and packed it snugly between layers of tissue paper. Troll three sealed the box and decorated it with ribbon. Troll four (white-haired and wearing spectacles) dipped his nib into an inkwell and wrote names on tags, which troll five attached to the gifts. The children immediately recognised the names on the gift tags—it appeared that every child in Drabville was to receive one of these horrible gifts.

Some younger trolls scampered around in aprons, cleaning up, and they sang a little song as they worked:

What do you want for Christmas, little girl, little boy?

Fancy a scarred, slashed and mutilated toy?

A clockwork sprouting giant moths?

A teddy with a nasty cough?

A dolly impaled with a metal probe?

A Barbie with no earlobes?

Put in your orders, come on, don’t be shy, Thoughtful Saint Nick will always comply!

As they sang, the children noticed that the trolls’ teeth had started to rot from a diet made up entirely of mince pies. Their dental hygiene was not helped by their aversion to toothpaste. The children could not know this but the trolls had a taste only for sugary preparations and used only liquid liquorice as a mouth wash.

In another corner of the workshop, two trolls were testing Christmas crackers that, when pulled apart, spurted a greenish liquid that smelled of rotten eggs. Others were decorating a charred tree, not with shiny baubles but with bits of old bone and balls of fur. The bells grunted instead of tinkling, and the tinsel was thick with thorns. The worst thing was the ornament that crowned the lifeless tree. In my house (as I’m sure is the case in yours) we have a gold star or an angel at the pinnacle of our tree, although one year there was a digression from this tradition in order to proudly display an angel
made from a toilet roll and cotton wool, constructed by me at pre-school. Perched at the top of the trolls’ Christmas tree was a stuffed bat, its wings spread like an umbrella.

‘Precious, isn’t it?’ purred Tempest Anomali. ‘Christmas redefined.’

Milli and Ernest were horrified by the sights before them, but they didn’t understand their purpose. Dr Illustrious had succeeded in ruining many of Von Gobstopper’s beautiful creations, the children of Drabville would be taken aback to receive his hateful gifts, and Von Gobstopper’s name might be forever blackened, but parents could easily buy their children toys from other companies like Harrowsmith or Fluffball. So what had Dr Illustrious really achieved?

‘This won’t change anything,’ Ernest said smugly. ‘Christmas isn’t even about presents.’

Some trolls who overheard him glanced at each other and rubbed their blotchy hands together. ‘Wrong!’ they jeered. ‘This Christmas is
all
about presents.’ A dark look from Dr Illustrious silenced them.

‘Little Pustule, you are too cocky,’ the transformed wizard told Ernest with calm
disgust. ‘Do you think I would go to so much trouble without an inspired plan? But like everyone else, you will have to wait to see it in glorious action.’ He paused to scratch his chin thoughtfully. ‘On the other hand, you are special people with whom I have forged a strong bond. I would be honoured if you would come along for the ride.’

‘They’re not going anywhere with you, you demented monster,’ Fritz warned.

‘Silence!’ snarled Dr Illustrious. ‘I have little patience for heroic types.’ He signalled to Tempest, who in turn snapped directions at a troll.

‘Let’s give them a sneak preview,’ she said.

The troll snapped off a prickly finger from one of the cacti plants in the shape of human hands that grew from the walls, and sniggering, tossed it on the fire. The children and Fritz sprang back as a wall of flames erupted inside the grate. The room was plunged into darkness and the furnace formed a kind of blazing stage. Figures moved inside the flames, as they might on a television screen with faulty reception. The figures seemed to be set on
fast-forward and three scenes appeared in rapid succession.

The first was what seemed to be a playroom—the floor was littered with building blocks and board games. A small boy was sitting cross-legged in front of a large painted toy box. He stuck his hand inside, in search of something, then withdrew it instantly, shrieking and waving his arm. The children could see that a toy dinosaur had sunk its razor-sharp teeth into the boy’s hand. A second scene began to take shape. This time it showed a cosy kitchen where a child was sprinkling sugar on her bowl of porridge whilst her mother busied herself making a pot of tea. On the table sat a rag doll with thinning wool hair and one eye suspended from a thread. The girl dropped her spoon and as she bent to pick it up, the doll withdrew a tube labelled
Ground Glass
from her apron pocket and emptied the contents into the porridge. The final scene was a brother and sister fast asleep in their nursery. A bear, who had been lying on the chest of drawers face down, got up and tiptoed over to the sleeping children. He withdrew a pouch from
beneath his waistcoat and, with an evil leer, released a family of hairy-legged poisonous spiders under the children’s bedcovers.

A feeling of helplessness washed over Milli and Ernest as they stood transfixed by the scenes of betrayal they had just witnessed. Fritz’s face was burning with fury.

‘As you see,’ gloated Dr Illustrious, ‘traitors in your very midst. An ingenious plan, if I say so myself. Now, get out of my sight!’

Led by Tempest, the trolls roughly escorted Ernest, Milli and Fritz to a narrow underground cell. It was dank and airless and they felt like animals trapped in a cage. It was difficult to breathe and the only sound was that of water dripping from a pipe nearby.

‘No one takes on Dr Illustrious and wins. You of all people should know that,’ said Tempest in triumph, and marched off.

The three captives sank onto the damp floor and contemplated a future that seemed entirely without hope.

‘I can’t believe it’s happened again,’ Ernest moaned quietly. ‘Is it ever going to be over?’

‘At least this time we were better prepared,’ said Milli.

‘You think so?’ said Ernest. ‘Then how come we’re in here?’

Fritz slapped the walls in frustration. He was not accustomed to being rendered useless and didn’t know how to react. The physical strength he had relied on up until now was inadequate in this situation. He paced the cell, clenching and unclenching his fists and glaring into space.

Several hours passed. Milli and Ernest wondered what time it was and what their parents would think when they discovered the children’s second disappearance in as many days. Their legs grew cramped and their bodies stiff. They tried to sleep, but couldn’t doze off no matter how hard they tried. A wave of panic surfaced every time they almost succeeded in relaxing; they were afraid of what might creep up on them and take them by surprise.

Dr Illustrious had mentioned them accompanying him on a ride. If the journey he had in mind was a real one, where was he planning on taking them?

I
n an attempt to distract Milli and Ernest, as well as calm his own frayed nerves, Fritz withdrew from his pocket a Spinning Rascal—a gadget you and I know better as a Spinning Top. This was a variation on the original design—once it started spinning it went looking for grumpy adults to trip up. There is nothing that exasperates adults more than stumbling over toys children have failed to pack up, and Spinning Rascals have been known to lie in wait for parents to come home before spinning into a frenzy right at their feet and sending them sprawling. The children took turns whirling the Spinning
Rascal, which spun randomly around the cell in search of adults lurking in corners. They wished they could use it to trip up Tempest or Dr Illustrious long enough to make a getaway.

It seemed an eternity before a muffled thumping finally broke the silence. They listened intently, and there it was again, this time a little closer. When a troll cracking a whip did not appear, they dared to believe that in one form or another help was coming. The noise had now become more of a clack than a thump, and whoever was making it seemed to stop from time to time, as if to get their bearings. All three prisoners held their breath in anticipation, and soon the familiar face of Loyal the rocking horse appeared outside the bars of their cell.

Loyal peered in at the children who had to keep from crying out in relief.

‘Loyal, I knew you were coming,’ said Milli, throwing her arms around his neck through the bars. The hug was rather awkward, but his slightly coarse coat felt reassuring under her fingers.

‘Thank goodness you’re all right,’ Loyal said to all three of them. ‘You had us worried for a while.’

‘We’re OK,’ Milli replied, but then looked around miserably. ‘Apart from being trapped with no way out.’

In reply Loyal turned side on and they spied a rope hanging in a neat coil from his saddle.

‘Loyal, you’re a legend!’ cried Ernest, which caused the modest rocking horse to flush with pleasure.

Fritz lost no time in tying one end of the rope to the cell door and Loyal clamped the other end tightly between teeth that looked as tough as granite. The rocking horse gave the rope such a heave that the cell door was dislodged. A second wrench and it was pulled clean off its hinges and rattled to the ground. They waited some moments to check if the noise had alerted the trolls, and relaxed when they heard nothing.