Mo
Mum and Spencer came home later that evening. We told them Lorelai had dropped us off when they were on their way back, and Mum was in too much pain to ask many questions. She was just bruised, though – she would get better. We lied about what a great time we’d had and why I’d swapped my costume and when she was too exhausted to stay up any longer, we gave her a hug and went upstairs to talk. Schrodinger was curled up on my bed, sleeping. Sadie sat next to him and then pulled the other junking cuff from down the back of her pants.
‘Your dad might be alive, Mo,’ Lottie said. ‘You might even get to see him one day. Aren’t you happy?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘The whole thing is awful – it’s hard to be happy about what is only a teeny tiny chance.’
‘You’re looking at it all wrong,’ Lottie said.
‘How’s that?’ I said. I felt quite cross with her – she couldn’t possibly understand what I’d been through.
‘Mo, your dad was drugged by an evil ice cream man and transported, fighting every step of the way, I expect, to a hellish junkyard in an apocalyptic future. He didn’t want to leave your mum and I’m certain he wouldn’t have wanted to leave you.’ Lottie looked at the floor. ‘But my mum… Let me show you.’ She ran out of the room and came back a minute later with a box.
‘What’s this?’ I said.
‘My secret box,’ she said.
‘Yes, I know that, but why are you showing me it?’
‘I’m showing you what happened to my mum,’ she said, pulling it open.
‘I thought your mum was digging up dinosaurs, or inventing a cure for tonsillitis or something,’ I said.
‘My mum is in Luton.’ Lottie tipped the contents of her box onto my bedroom floor. ‘She lives with her new husband, Dirk, and their baby girl, Annabel. These are all the cards and letters she’s sent me since she left.’
There were loads of them, all in different coloured envelopes, with the same curly writing on the front. None of them were opened.
‘Why haven’t you read them?’ I said.
‘I don’t know, really,’ Lottie shrugged. ‘I wanted to think she’d be coming back. I didn’t want to hear about her enjoying her life with her new family.’
‘But you have a new family, too,’ I said, putting my arm around her.
‘That’s true.’ She sniffed. ‘And they’re kind of great.’
‘I never thought I wanted a sister, but I’m glad I have you and Sadie. And, if you like, you can share my mum. She really is the best.’
‘She is. She smells like strawberries and pancakes,’ Lottie said. ‘Thanks, Mo.’
Lottie
The next day we stood at our open front door, looking over at number 79. The Junker house was dark, the curtains open, the rooms empty. They had gone. We walked to school feeling happier than we had for weeks.
‘What’s going on?’ Mo asked, as we approached the main road to the sound of honking horns and angry shouts.
‘Hector!’ we said simultaneously, running to the crossing.
‘We don’t want you here!’ A mum was shouting in Hector’s face. ‘We all saw you being taken away by the police.’
‘No charges were brought,’ Hector said.
‘No smoke without fire, they say,’ she yelled, waving her arms around.
‘Madam, your face is terrifying, especially up close, and you’re spitting on me rather a lot. Please back off.’
‘How dare you?’ she said, swinging her arm at him and knocking his hat off.
‘Look at his hair,’ I said, nudging Mo hard with my elbow. ‘LOOK AT HIS HAIR!’
His hair was bright ginger and it stuck up in all different directions.
‘He has your hair,’ I said, gazing at him with her mouth open.
‘There was no need for that,’ Hector said to the mum. ‘But as it happens, today is my last day, so you won’t be seeing me again.’
‘Thank god for that,’ she said over her shoulder, and she walked over to the school, dragging her daughter behind her.
Hector picked his hat up and shoved it on his head, then turned and spotted us in the crowd. He smiled.
‘I’ll walk you home after school,’ he said. ‘We can have a good chat.’
We spent the day speculating about Hector. Or at least I did, while Mo fretted about the results of the Discovery Competition, which were going to be announced later that day. I wasn’t worried at all – I knew we’d win. Our winners’ certificate can be found in the evidence box – Exhibit P. We were super-proud.
After school, we waited for Hector to finish at the crossing, and then he walked with us towards home.
‘Very happy to see you’re both still here and in one piece,’ he said. ‘Or two pieces, rather. Not two pieces per person. A piece each? I’m glad you’re OK.’
‘And we won the competition,’ Mo said, waving the certificate at him. He hadn’t put it down since we’d been presented it in a special assembly. ‘Now we have to improve the design and make another, better, prototype for the next stage.’
‘You’ll do a fantastic job, I’m sure,’ Hector said.
‘We were worried about you,’ Mo said.
‘I’m fine. Man of steel. They only choose the toughest people to be school crossing guards, you know.’
I couldn’t hold back the questions any longer. ‘What’s your real name?’
‘Hector.’
‘We know that,’ I said. ‘I mean your real last name?’
‘I can’t tell you without breaking a lot of rules.’
‘Tell us!’
‘But the ripples!’
‘Now that we’ve seen your hair, we’ve guessed anyway – you might as well just say so.’
‘I don’t think you’ve guessed correctly,’ he said. ‘If you’d found the clues in my notes, you wouldn’t be asking me these questions.’
‘What clues in your notes?’ Mo said. ‘There were clues in your notes?’
‘I thought it would be fun,’ Hector said. ‘And, also, it was a way of telling you without breaking the rules and telling you. Technically speaking.’
‘You’re Mo’s grandad,’ I blurted.
‘That’s so stupid, Lottie,’ Mo said. My granddads both have brown hair. I know them. One lives in Ireland and the other one in Clacton. He is definitely not my grandad.’
Hector was laughing really hard. ‘Ha! Yes, I am definitely NOT Mo’s grandad.’
‘Who are you then?’ I said. ‘You must be related to Mo – that kind of hair should only really come around once in a lifetime. And once would have been too often, IMHO.’
‘What?’ Hector said.
‘In my honest opinion, obviously. Everybody knows that.’
‘I thought it was humble opinion?’ said Mo.
‘There is nothing humble about my opinion, Mo,’ I said.
‘That’s true.’
‘Seeing as you’ve half guessed,’ Hector interrupted, ‘maybe I could tell… but, if I do, you absolutely cannot tell the authorities in the future that I did, or they won’t let me come back again. And you might need me.’
‘JUST TELL US!’ I yelled.
‘My name is Hector Appleby…’
‘You are related to Mo! I knew it!’
‘Actually, my last name is Appleby-Button. I’m related to both of you. I’m Mo’s brother, and I’m your brother. Your baby brother! Surprise!’
*Lottie is interrupted by Mo’s very loud laughter*
Lottie:
Shut up, Mo.
Mo:
But it was the funniest thing! Lottie was so shocked – you should have seen her face.
Lottie:
Well, neither of us were expecting that answer, were we? It was absurd.
Mo *still laughs*:
It was awesome.
Lottie:
We looked back at Hector’s notes and found the clues.
Mo:
They were really obvious when we knew to look for them.
Lottie:
I bet nobody else spotted them either. What kind of nut job hides clues in bits of writing?
Mo:
Er, Lottie – we’ve just hidden…
Lottie:
Anyway – just a few more ends to tie up here before we go. I’m starving and I think we’re getting Domino’s for dinner.
Mo:
Ooh, Domino’s. Let’s hurry.
Lottie:
You’re probably wondering what Jax’s last words were – the ones he shouted to us through the giant tesseract before he died.
Mo:
He didn’t die, Lottie, he time-jumped to the Junkyard.
Lottie:
Same thing.
Mo:
Not the same thing at all.
Lottie:
Anyway, what he told us was a clue – a clue to the location of the Junkyard.
Mo *gives Lottie a harsh side-eye*:
We’ve hidden it amongst the evidence in this box. Have a look – see if you can work it out. And if you find it, keep it safe.
Lottie:
So, we have the cuff and the clue…
Mo:
…And we’re going to use them to try to work out where the Junkyard is so we can find my dad. We know the Junkers will come back for us…
Lottie:
…But thanks to Sadie, we have a list of the solar flares, so we also know we have some time.
Mo:
This vlog and these documents might be the only record of everything that happened.
Lottie:
So, if we disappear…
Mo:
You hold the key to finding us.
Lottie:
If the Junkers know you have it, they’ll probably come after you, too. So stay alert and trust no one.
Mo:
Don’t say that, Lottie. We never would have made it this far if we hadn’t trusted each other.
Lottie:
OK, not no one. But read through the info about how to spot a Junker again. Memorise the poem: Jumbled face and body parts, they’re masters of disguise; Unhealthy sugar cravings for biscuits cakes and pies…
Mo:
Never be alone with them; Kandy is their bait.
Lottie:
Equip yourself and RUN or The Junkyard is your fate.
Mo:
Repeat it to yourself until you know it back to front…
Lottie:
…And keep it in your head at all times.
Mo:
Because if you forget…
Lottie:
Or get yourself caught…
Mo:
We’ll be seeing you at The Junkyard.
*The tense silence is broken by the arrival of a young girl, who flings the door open and bowls into the room like she’s leading a parade.*
Mo *huffing*:
We weren’t finished, Sadie. Now we’re going to have to do that bit all over again.
Sadie:
Perowt mewl prew.
Mo:
Maybe you do have the right to be here, but it’s not about that. It’s about getting across the seriousness of the situation to the people watching.
Sadie:
Mrow.
Mo:
It’s my room and I get to choose who comes in.
Lottie:
Mo!
Mo:
Can I not have any privacy anymore?
Sadie:
Hiss.
Lottie *jumping up and down and tugging Mo’s arm*:
Mo!
Mo *his face getting redder by the second*:
Argh! What is it, Lottie?
Lottie:
You did it! You understood Sadie!
Mo:
Oh my god. I did. I understood her.
*There is a moment of silence. The three children stare at each other and a smile creeps across Mo’s face.*
Lottie:
We have to celebrate! Who wants ice cream?
Mo:
You’re kidding, right?
*Mo, Lottie and Sadie leave the bedroom and the sound of their footsteps can be heard clattering down the stairs. A moment later, one set of footsteps returns, and Mo’s face appears as he leans over the camera. He smiles and reaches for the off button.*