Читать книгу The Keeper. Part 1. An Invitation - Craig Speakes - Страница 5

Papa

With his father on his way back, it had been agreed that they would leave the day after next. The general, on his way out, had taken Arthur to one side for a private word and had told him that he was confident that it wouldn’t be for long. Despite this though, Arthur couldn’t shake off the feeling that it wasn’t going to be as simple as just helping them open the box and then being able to leave again, especially when he remembered the contents of the letter.

Things at home had remained tense after the general and the others had gone. One minute his mother would be angry with him for having found the box in the first place, and the next she was hugging him, telling him it would all be OK. His stepfather, in his turn, had taken it upon himself to keep reminding everyone that because Arthur was going to a special government division, that it meant that he’d have to be on his best behaviour at all times. Even his baby sister, sensing that something was up, kept crawling past his room, popping her head in, and screaming out until she found him. Fortunately, by evening they had managed to calm down a bit. The day after tomorrow still seemed far enough away to be able to push it to the back of their minds.

Arthur, for his part, had been trying his best not to think about it at all. Ironically though, the more he’d tried not to, the more his mind kept conjuring up dark images of mad-looking scientists deciding that it was going to be a matter of national security to keep him there for the rest of his life.

‘I don’t know, Cat,’ he said, as the cat came and curled up next to him on the bed. ‘Don’t you think it’s really kind of strange that the government needs my help? I mean, it can do almost anything, right? Build nuclear missiles, space weapons, cool tanks and stuff. I don’t get why they can’t figure out how to open it themselves.’

The cat stretched out a paw and rested it on his arm.

‘I really wish we could still talk,’ he sighed, tickling him behind his ears.

The following day, Arthur decided to try and find out more about the T8 facility and what he could expect to find when he got there. Curiously however, not only did it not appear on any maps but after searching for hours, all he’d been able to come up with were a few broken links and occasional references to it being a government facility, location unknown. One link though, which he had been able to open, was to a conspiracy theory blog in which the writer had said that whilst knowledge of the existence of T8 wasn’t exactly a secret per se, it was rather strange that it couldn’t be located on any satellite photographs, especially given their general availability these days. The writer had also gone on to say that, in his opinion, it had to mean that there was more to it than it just being a UK government facility and questioned whether it was even in the UK at all.

The afternoon of their departure, the general had arrived with his father at the appointed time.

‘Papa!’ shouted Arthur, rushing to greet him as Sasha opened the door for them.

‘Hellooo, you!’ cried his father, hugging him. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Fine!’

‘So, I hear we’re being sent somewhere, but no one wants to say exactly where that somewhere is. What did we do to deserve that, I wonder?’

‘Ha ha, very funny. It’s a restricted facility called T8. But it doesn’t exist on any maps—I checked!’

‘Did you now? Well, don’t you worry yourself, I’m sure they know how to find it.’ He winked. ‘And anyway, a few days off from school is never a bad thing, right? Are you all set?’

Arthur nodded and pointed to the bulging backpack at the foot of the bed and grinned.

‘Your mum packed that, did she? I bet there’s enough food in there to keep you going for weeks.’

‘And you’ll thank me later for it,’ she replied, appearing out of the kitchen. ‘I’ve heard enough stories about the standard of army food.’’

‘But Mum, I don’t think we’re going to an army base.’

‘Maybe, but as General Hammond here refuses to say anything much about where you are actually going, it can’t hurt to be prepared, can it?’

‘Oh I don’t think you need worry,’ grinned the general. ‘You can be sure that we’ll take good care of them. And, speaking of which, I’ve just been informed that our plane is already waiting for us on the tarmac, so I suggest that we get our skates on.’

‘What, right now?!’ asked Arthur, panicking that he was about to forget something important.

‘Arthur, come on,’ called his mother when he suddenly darted into his room and didn’t reappear again. ‘Everyone’s getting ready.’

‘Yes, yes, I’m coming,’ he called back. <<What is it that I>>’<<m forgetting?>> He wondered, looking about his room. But there was nothing that stood out.

‘Ah ha! Of course!’ he exclaimed as the cat happened to wander in at that exact moment and meow at him. ‘Cat—it’s you!’

Hurriedly removing the sandwiches and other provisions his mother had packed for him, he laid the pack on the floor in front of him.

‘What? Don’t look at me like that. I know you understand why the general’s here.’

The cat meowed.

‘Yeah, yeah, come on, quickly,’ he whispered, pushing it closer to him.

Meowing again, the cat got in.

‘Okay, now whatever you do, remember to stay quiet and stay hidden, got it?’

‘Arthur!’ called out his mother, again. ‘Come on, whatever are you doing there? We’re all waiting.’

‘I’m coming, I’m coming!’ he shouted and heaved the backpack onto his shoulders.

Although it was understood that they weren’t going to be gone for long, he still felt bad about saying goodbye to his mum. She was looking tearful again.

‘Now just do as you’re told and don’t get up to any mischief,’ said Sasha, shaking Arthur’s hand.

‘I will.’

‘And please call us when you get there,’ said his mother.

‘Of course. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,’ replied his father, patting Arthur on the head.

And with a wave, they turned and followed the general to the lift.

Outside, three large, blacked out SUVs were parked in a line near the entrance. As they emerged, men dressed in black uniforms got out and stood between them and a small crowd of onlookers that had gathered to see what was happening. Recognising several of his neighbours, Arthur couldn’t help but wonder what they must be thinking, seeing him coming out with the general.

‘Quite the little show we’re putting on for everyone, eh?’ said his father, putting his things into the boot. ‘There’s plenty of room in here, you know,’ he added, looking puzzled as to why Arthur was still clutching his pack.

‘Yeah, I know, but I might need something.’

‘You can’t be hungry already, surely. Your mum said you just ate before I arrived.’

‘Yeah, I did, but not much.’

‘Fine. Suit yourself.’ He smiled and opened the door for him.

Getting in, Arthur gazed up at the windows of his flat, which all faced that side. He could see his mum peering out, holding his sister. They both waved.

‘It’ll all be okay,’ said his father softly, as Arthur turned to watch them out the back window. ‘Sometimes life throws us curve balls and forces us to do things we don’t necessarily want to. Just try to think of it as a little adventure—nothing more, nothing less.’