Chapter 4: A discovery…
Father drove, and Mother sat beside him. They’d taken a train straight back, and found the car. They had hardly spoken after Christy had told him. For a moment Father had looked like he would be sick, then he had held her in his arms. Things will be ok. He wished he could have told her that. But he knew they could not be ok. They would not.
Mother kept her eyes on the road as they crawled through traffic. When Ron had turned up at her door, and worse, when he had snuck into the house, up the stairs, preparing to surprise her, she had seen him as a ghost. The door had opened and he had been there. He couldn’t be. Then he stepped towards her, touched her, spoken. And the door had opened again. Not a ghost this time, but her husband. Father had seen them, and run. “I can’t,” Christy had said, stepping back. “No, I can’t. You’re not real.” And she had broken away, down the stairs. She’d stood at the door as Father drove away, and she’d dialled for Miss Mingostone.
Ron had come down after her. He had seen the expression on her face, and known she wasn’t ready for him. He must have recognised that man, a flash of recognition had hit him. He wouldn’t have understood, why was Moppet here? Ron had stood on the bottom step, watching her face, and Mother had been shaking her head so slowly, stepping away, moving back.
And Ron had passed her, out the door, across the porch, the drive, the road, and been gone once more. Swallowed into the night.
Father slammed on the breaks, jerking Mother forward against the seatbelt. Blinking, she looked out at the road, where the Boy-Next-Door, Kyle, and his pet Yak were crossing. Kyle waved, grinning. Happy as ever. For him, life was normal. For the Moppets, life had exploded in their face.
Father drove on.
She remembered Ron’s last words, back on the ship many years ago. “Now, now no use crying for me.” And he was dying, run through by the pirate Hevej. “Go escape and create a good life for you and the boy.” And she had. She’d done just that. Not a soul suspected her past. Vic enjoyed his friends and his school. Only Father knew the truth, except, now, the truth was a lie. Ron was back. And she didn’t know what to do.
Father parked in front of the house, and got out, moving around the car to open her door. They walked up the drive, together, but apart.
Miss Mingostone stood in the doorway. “You’re back,” she said.
“Yes. Yes, we are.” Mother replied. A flash of a smile crossed her face, a fake smile. “I hope the twins behaved themselves, you know how they can be.”
“Yes.”
“Did Vic get to school?” Father asked, his voice almost ordinary.
“In the end. He took the Dog.” She stepped aside as they came into the house.
“Had any visitors?” Mother asked, keeping her voice light, her face masked in a smile.
“Jack visited for a few minutes,” Miss Mingostone answered.
“I’ll put the kettle on,” Father called, stepping into the kitchen. “For some tea. Would you like lemonade, Mangostone?”
“No. I shall go now if that is alright with you.”
“Of course,” Mother said brightly. “An unexpected days work for you.”
“It was no trouble.”
“Good.” Father clasped his hands together behind his back tightly. “Good.” He nodded. “Yes, good.”
“Where are the twins?” Mother asked.
“I put them down for a nap after lunch.”
“Good,” Father said again. He wanted to hit himself in the head. Couldn’t he think of any other word to say?
“I’ll go check them,” Mother said.
She hurried upstairs, and Father paid Miss Mingostone. After she left, he joined Mother in the twin’s room.
The room was a mess, but two bundles lay still under their covers. “They are quiet,” Mother said.
“Yes. Very quiet.”
She moved into the room, lifting toys, straightening and tidying softly. She stopped beside Viq’s blue cot. The baby-sized bundle was wrong. The ear of a teddy stuck out of the quilt. Mother pulled it back. More toys were stuffed underneath.
Father started forward. He yanked the cover from Vibs’ pink cot. Again, toys. The twins were gone.
*****
“Yes, sir. No, I won’t do it again. Yes. No. Yeah, he’s not home right now. Yeah. No. Yes, Mr Principle. I promise. Good day, Sir.” Vic pushed open the door from the Principle’s office and escaped fast down the shiny floors of the school. He broke outside into the sun.
The Dog sat waiting for him, tied to the gate. He wined as Vic came running up. “Hey, boy. I can let you go now,” he bent down to stroke the Dog’s head. “That mean ol’ principle doesn’t scare me.” He looked up, at the Principle stood beside him. “Er…much…” he said. Dog growled. The Principle snorted, and walked away.
Vic unhooked the lead off the gate, and started away from the assorted school buildings. As he walked, another man stepped into pace with him. Vic glanced at him. Average height, nice face, dark glasses. Dog yanked at the lead, trying to race ahead.
Vic guessed that Kyle and his Yak had left school early, and gotten home by now. He turned a corner, and headed up the sloped roads that lead towards his house. The man kept pace, just to the left and just behind him.
Vic looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Ted, ol’ boy. Let’s go the park route.” He dashed through the park gates, and unclipped Dog’s lead. Ted the Dog sped across the grass chasing pigeons.
Vic walked under the row of trees. He stopped beside one, and propped himself against it. The man paused a short distance from him. Vic scowled.
“You’re Vic, right?”
Vic’s head jerked up at the sound of his name. “Yeah,” he answered warily. “What’s that to you?”
“I used to know your Mother.”
“So?”
“So, nothing. I just thought I’d say, hi.” The man stepped towards Vic, and extended his hand.
Vic took it gingerly, and felt a spark pass between them. The man held Vic hand firmly. “You’ve no idea how long I wanted to do that,” he said.
Vic snatched his hand away. “Right, ‘Hi’ time is over, dude. Head back to where you came from.”
“Who is your father?” the man asked.
“What?”
“Just that. Good night, laddie.”
He walked away, and Vic watched him leave. Dog came running back, sniffing Vic’s feet. Vic knelt and rubbed his hands through the Dog’s fur, a bolt of confusion twisting his face.
*****
Jack knocked on the thick oak door, and waited. He noticed the large gold letters, “D. C.” had been recently shined. “Come.” Jack pushed the door open, and stood in the office of Don Canolli. A gigantic desk sat in the centre of the room, mahogany, with an expensive computer, and a large ashtray. The back of a leather rotating chair was to him, and he saw drifts of smoke from a large cigar. “Jack. Come in. Sit down.”
Jack did as he was told, finding a chair the other side of the desk, and dragging it closer. “Mr, er, Canolli.”
“That would be me.” The chair swirled around to the front, and Don Canolli peered at him through a haze of smoke. “What can I do you for?”
Jack licked his lips. “I got a scheme,” he said. “We’re talking big bucks, but I’m gunna need your...er...”
“Assistance?”
“Your computer bank. And, bank, um, bank.”
“Money and equipment. What do I get out of this?” Don asked. “What’s my cut?” He lent forward chewing on the cigar.
Jack laughed nervously. “You know me, man. What’s mine is yours. But the details, I gotta keep ‘em to me. You see...that’s how big this is.”
“How big?”
“Big.”
Don took the cigar from his mouth in thick fingers. “Alright,” he said. “You got the use for now, alright. What help else do you need?”
“None. That’s all I need, Mr Canolli. That’s all I need.”
Jack had never lied to Don Canollia before. But he thought he’d done rather a good job of it.
*****
Miss Mingostone walked quietly along the street from the bus station. It was only one short bus-route to the stop near Mr Moppet’s workplace. Stopping before the sign to Wilson’s, she looked up at the building. Square shaped, with curious extensions, and extra corners, unnecessary windows, and a high loft area with a balcony, the workplace gave an air of both self-sufficiency and eccentricity.
Miss Mingostone pressed a bell by the door. She had been here before, of course. To find the twins, or help Mr Moppet. Once she got locked in and attacked by a horde of dancing Barbies. But then she had been here with an official reason. Now though...
No one answered the door, so she pushed it open and stepped into a small reception area. It was scattered with pieces of Pepperoni, and an assortment of cheeses were piled on the desk. She remembered the sign outside had suggested something about pizza’s, but she hadn’t expected this kind of a mess. Still, this was Wilson’s, so anything could happen.
“Can I help you?” A friendly face appeared around a door. The face was topped with a chef’s hat, and below, he wore a suit that was streaked with flour.
“Hello, I am Miss Liza Eewopp Mingostone, the Nanny Mr Moppet called for.”
“Ah, yes. Of course you are.” The man came fully into the room. “Mr Harvey, nice to meet you.” He nodded at the mess of spiced meat on the floor. “That was what the delivery men said, except not the Mr Harvey bit.”
“I see.”
“SuZan!” Mr Harvey yelled. “Put a kettle on. No, take it off again. It doesn’t suit you.”
Miss Mingostone folded her arms over her chest. “Can I talk to you?”
“I imagine so,” Mr Harvey said. “Most people can manage it.”
“Is there an office?” Miss Mingostone asked.
“Certainly, through here is the base of our operations, and the bases for the pizzas too. And, er, the office.” He unlocked a glass and plastic door that lead into an office area. One wall was obscured by a stack of newspapers, and the rest held trophies of past successes of the various tributaries of Wilson’s. From Left Handed Marbles, to a Chilli-Con-Cardigan, and a cereal-frosting machine.
Miss Mingostone sat down in the only chair. Mr Harvey set himself down on the corner of the desk. “What can I do for you?”
“It is hard to begin,” Miss Mingostone said.
“Well, why not finish and work your way back?”
The line of a frown appeared once more. “What do you know about Mr Moppet?”
“Not much, actually,” Mr Harvey said. “He has a wife, children, and apparently a Nanny he called for.”
“Yes.”
“He was a part of the business before me.”
“Long before you?”
“I never asked. Why would I?”
SuZan tapped on the door, and waved her hands. Mr Harvey got up, and opened the door. “Yes. I see. Well, start clearing up the place then. What? Oh, where to begin. Well, I’d suggest you start from the topping and work your way down.” He closed the door again. “Note from management,” he said. “Sorry, gotta fly. We’re doing kite testing.”
He walked out of the office, and started talking to Suzan. Miss Mingostone leant back in the chair, checked he was occupied, then stepped up to the desk. She ran a finger along the wooden top, then slid open a drawer. Files. Lots of them. P for potatoes. W for wrestling. M, for Moppet. She fingered the file. Just what she was looking for. B for Bingo.
She slid the file out of the desk. Looked up. Saw Mr Harvey, stood right there in front of her.
A flush ran up her neck into her checks. “Is this the file?” she asked quickly.
“Which?”
“Mr Moppet’s employment files.”
“That is the file of his personal details, certificates. Birth, marriage, death…Well, not death, but the others I presume.”
“Oh. Good.” She smiled suddenly. “You don’t need them to test kites do you?”
“No…I…”
“Good. Then I’ll borrow them. Goodbye Mr Harvey.” She shook his hand with a firm grip.
Mr Harvey nodded. “Good day to you Miss Nanny Mingostone.”
As she walked out of the Wilson’s building, a smile crept across Miss Mingostone’s face. Now she was getting somewhere.
*****
A snail crept across Aunt Dan-Dan’s face. Now she was getting somewhere.
*****
Viq crawled in the road after Vibs. “Hey, slow down!”
“If we slow down, we’ll loose him,” Vibs called over her shoulder.
“Meanie!” Viq cried.
The dark green pick-up truck they were following rolled close to 60 miles per hour along the tarmac road. Viq and Vibs scooted behind it, matching speed with a little help from the abilities they were born with.
They had tracked down the weird man with the dark glasses a couple of minutes after Nanny had put them to bed and after they’d designed their toys into baby shapes and hiddenthem as lumps under their covers. They had watched him wait outside the school, and talk to Vic.
Now they were following. Vibs, slightly ahead of Viq had dressed herself in a streamlined jumpsuit. Viq struggled behind in trench coat and hat. “You be the spy, I’ll be the super hero,” Vibs had said.
The truck swerved, avoiding a pothole in the badly maintained road. Vibs leapt agilely over it, and Viq fell in.
He caught up with Vibs ten minutes later beside the parked truck in the drive of a foreboding looking house in the wide countryside. “Where’d DG Man go?” Viq asked quietly.
“DG Man?”
“Dark Glasses Man. I thought we’d better have code names just in case. I’m gunna be Viq-torious, you can be Vub-Scrubber.”
“What!” Vibs shrieked. “You be Vuq-yuck, I’ll be Queen Vib-toria.”
“No fair!”
“Is too!”
“Look!” Viq pointed to an upstairs window. The glass had fallen out some time ago, and the curtains blew in a breeze. A single light bulb hung from a wire in the ceiling. On an unmade bed, D.G. Man lay staring at the peeling plaster of the walls. Viq gazed into the room, then suddenly looked down and realised they were floating up outside the window. He dropped five foot, and then floated back up again. “Oops, sorry. Got a bit excited.”
“Get any more excited and you’ll need a new diaper,” Vibs whispered.
Inside the room, a door opened, and a tall dark man with a ancient beard stepped into the pale light. The swinging bulb played with the shadows of his face, shifting them back and forth. “How are you feeling?” the man asked, his voice deep.
DG Man, or Ron, shrugged. He scrambled up to sitting, and leant against the wall. “I wish I knew,” he said. “Physically, I am well. Mentally, I am confused.”
“Mentally you are freaky!” Viq said, and he must have said it a little loudly, because Ron and the dark man looked at the window. Viq gulped, and grinned. “Er, hi,” he said, landing on the windowsill.
The dark man’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
To be continued...
Welcome to the Muppet Central Forum!
Jim Henson Idea Man
Back to the Rock Season 2
Bear arrives on Disney+
Sam and Friends Book
