The Keeper. Part 1. An Invitation

‘So, do I take it that you’re planning on keeping it, then?’ asked the cat.

‘Too right I am! This one’s for the frying pan. Aunty M will have a fit. She’s always laughing because I never catch anything big. Now let’s see what she’s got to say!’

‘Right you are, then.’

‘Just look at it! Why would you ever think I wouldn’t want to keep it.’

‘Oh, no reason, really,’ purred the cat. ‘Only it seems pretty desperate to try to make a deal with you, that’s all.’

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

‘A what?! Oh, come on—you’re having me on?’

Arthur stared at the fish and then at the cat and back at the fish again.

‘Honestly?’

‘Yep, it’s true.’

‘What sort of deal?’ he asked, bewildered. ‘And why can’t I hear it?’

‘No idea, but it keeps going on about some kind of box thing. It’s quite hard to understand him, actually—he has a really strong fishy accent. Apparently, this box fell into the lake last night during the white light, and hundreds of men came looking for it afterwards. If we agree to let him go, he’ll take us to it.’

‘The white light? You mean the fish saw it, too?’

‘What did I just say?

‘Well, yeh, but…’

‘So, you have to decide and decide quickly because he says that he can’t breathe.’

‘Oh right,’ said Arthur, suddenly feeling terrible. ‘OK, fine—I guess.’ And gently placing the fish back in the water, they watched it floating lifelessly in front of them.

‘God, you don’t think that it’s…?’

‘No idea.’

‘Well—go on, ask him then!’

‘What, ask him if he’s dead?’

‘Yes!’

‘Don’t you think that’s a strange question to ask someone?’

‘No!’

‘Fine!’

‘Also, why can’t I hear you talking to him? Is this why you don’t like fish? Because you can speak with them?’

‘Me? No! I don’t like them because they taste like mud. And actually, I’ve never talked to a fish in my life. Well, at least not until this one started just now.’

‘Cat, there’s something really strange going on, isn’t there?’

‘Really strange!’ agreed the cat. ‘And it says it just needs a moment to get its breath back.’

Before long, the fish wiggled its fins and began to swim in little circles. Finally turning in their direction, it poked its head out of the water.

‘He says he’s ready. And that the box isn’t far. Apparently, we’ll find it under an uneven stone in the middle of some long water grass, which isn’t very deep.’

‘What do you reckon? Do you think it’s really telling the truth?’

‘No idea, but good luck finding it because I’m not going down after it.’

Arthur grinned. The cat absolutely hated getting his fur wet, and he remembered how he’d showered him several times with the garden hose when he was younger.

‘OK, but you know you’re going to have to come with us all the same.’

‘Me? But I just told you: I don’t do swimming!’

‘Who said anything about you having to swim? Wait here, I’ve got an idea… And tell the fish to wait, too!’

Leaping down from the jetty, he ran back along the path to where he recalled having recently seen a large piece of discarded Styrofoam. It was still there, and apart from a few chips in it, it looked ideal for the job. Returning with it, the cat stared at him in horror.

‘No, no, that’s no good at all. I’ll get seasick for sure.’

‘It’s a lake, Cat, not the sea.’

‘Then I’ll get lake-sick. Either way, listen to what I’m trying to tell you.’

‘Sure… Now don’t worry, you’ll be just fine.’

‘I’m serious!’

Arthur placed the Styrofoam into the water and got in. Pushing down on it to make sure that it would float OK, he distracted the cat, grabbed him, and placed him on top.

‘Argh! Now look what you’ve done—all my paws are wet!’

‘Yeh, well, don’t worry about that. Just think what a hero you’re being. Anyway, I’m the one who’s going to be doing all the work. All you have to do is sit there.’

‘Said the captain to the rest of the Titanic!’

With a fin visible above the surface and keeping to the edge of the reed beds, the fish led them out deeper than Arthur had ever been before. The water, which had been warm near the shore, soon began to feel cold, and discovering that the jetty had disappeared from view, he began to panic.

‘Cat, how much further?’ he asked nervously.

‘Actually, we’re here already.’

‘Really?’

‘Apparently. And all you need to do is dive down and look under a stone inside the reeds below us.’

‘OK, but that sounds a bit vague. It’s going to show me exactly where, right?’

‘I’m thinking not.’

‘What! Why?’

‘He said that it wasn’t part of the deal.’

‘Of course it was part of the deal! Tell him!’

‘I would but it’s too late. He’s already gone.’

‘Blast!’

Tempted for a moment to just forget it and swim back to the shore as fast as he could, Arthur gazed across the lake at the people swimming.

‘Come on, you can do this,’ he mumbled to himself. ‘It’s not that deep.’

‘That’s right, champ—you’ve got this,’ purred the cat. ‘Now, please hurry up before any of those pickle fish decide that I look like a tasty snack.’

‘Pickle fish? I think you mean pike, and I doubt they’d be interested in you.’

‘Maybe, maybe not, but I bet there are plenty of other monsters lurking in here.’

‘Cat, relax, will you?’

Glancing into the murky water, and unable to see any further than his waist, Arthur took a deep breath and dove down. Although it was only a few metres, the water pressure made it hard for him to reach the bottom, always pushing him back towards the surface. In the end, he had to make half a dozen attempts before he finally found it.

‘Ouch!’ meowed the cat, as Arthur burst out of the water, gasping and tossing something on to the Styrofoam platform.

‘I found it.’

‘Yeah, you don’t say. I swear you just aimed it right at my nose!’

‘No I didn’t. C’mon, what do you reckon, then?’

‘I reckon it looks like a piece of junk.’

‘Noooo, Cat, don’t say that. The fish seemed to think it was important though, didn’t it?’

‘Or did he? Maybe he just said the first thing that came into his little fishy head, to escape a good frying.’

‘OK, but you know he could’ve just lied and swam off.’

‘Doesn’t mean anything. I have a funny feeling that fish might be tricky, like birds.’

Back at the jetty, Arthur hauled himself up and set about examining what he’d found. Jet black and about the size of his fist, at first glance, the box had seemed to be exactly that—just a box. It even occurred to him that perhaps the cat might have been right, after all. But, as he rubbed it clean with the bottom of his T-shirt, a faint edge appeared around the sides of it. Giving the impression of being a lid, there were words written above it.

‘Hey, this is weird,’ he said, showing them to the cat. ‘It says, “To open what is both known yet unknown, speak this word times three.” What do you think that means?’

‘Not a clue, just open it already.’

‘I’ve tried, but it won’t budge. Look.’ And holding it so the cat could see, Arthur tried to pull the top off.

‘My turn, then. Give it here, weedy.’

‘To you?’

‘Well, I don’t see anyone else asking.’

‘All right, keep your whiskers on.’

Placing the box down, Arthur watched as the cat dexterously held it down with one paw and attempted to cut around the faint line of the lid with the other.

‘Yow!’ he hissed, breaking a claw.

‘See! What did I tell you?’

‘But I was close, I reckon.’

‘Sure, you were, Cat. Come on, this is useless. We need some real tools.’

Stuffing the box into his pocket, and gathering his things together, they headed back to the cottage. The big cranes, which had been removing the twisted wreckage from the railway tracks, had gone. Now, with only a few men and machines left to finish up, it was clear it would soon look as though nothing had happened.

‘See that?’ he said, without really meaning for it to sound like a question.

Halting by the garden gate, Arthur peered through a crack. Spying that the coast was clear, he slipped through, darting between apple trees, until he reached the tool shed about halfway down the slope. The key, as always, was under the rusting watering can.

‘Come on, come on!’ he mumbled, trying to coax the old lock whilst at the same time keeping a wary look out. After a rather unfortunate incident a few years ago when he’d almost, accidentally, demolished it, he’d been banned from ever entering again. The door swung open with a click.

‘Cat—quickly!’ he whispered, closing and barring it behind them.

Built about the same time as the cottage, the shed had gradually become lopsided over the years and now resembled an old barn. Doubling as a storage area, there were pieces of furniture, planks of wood, tiles, and all manner of bits and bobs that someone had once thought might one day be useful, piled up against two of the walls. In the centre was a large, heavy, wooden work bench. Arthur placed the box on top of it.

‘Ready?’ he asked, rummaging about in a rusty toolbox and producing a hammer and chisel from it.

‘Only if you’re sure you know what you’re doing,’ said the cat, jumping up next to him.

‘What’s that supposed to mean? I thought you wanted to open it?’

‘I did! I do! I definitely did, for sure!’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I don’t know. What if it’s just not meant to be opened? Maybe there’s a reason that it fell into the lake and all those men came looking for it.’

Arthur frowned at him. Placing the sharp end of the chisel into the faint line, he picked up the hammer. ‘OK, here goes nothing,’ he said and struck it gently but firmly. When nothing happened, he struck it again a little bit harder.

‘I don’t get it. I’ve hit it twice and there’s not even a mark on it.’

‘See. That’s what I was saying. Maybe it’s not meant to be opened.’

‘No… not a chance! It just needs a bit more effort, that’s all.’

And raising the hammer high into the air, he brought it down with such an almighty whack that he lost his grip completely, allowing it to fly out of his hand, narrowly missing his head and ricocheting off the roof. The chisel, launching in an entirely different direction, embedded itself into the far wall with a loud cracking sound.

‘You okay?’ Arthur whispered, having thrown himself on to the floor.

‘I think my whiskers have gone grey,’ meowed the cat, poking his head around the corner of the wood pile in the corner.

‘Really?’

‘Could be. Shocks like that can definitely age a cat!’

Taking a deep breath, Arthur raised his head up to see what had happened to the box. But it was just sitting there in the middle of the work surface, exactly where he’d put it.

‘But how? That’s not possible. I hit it really hard—you saw me, right?!’

At that moment, the latch on the door rattled, followed by a loud banging.

‘Arthur! You open this door immediately, do you hear me?!’

‘O-o, Cat!’ he said. ‘Now we’re in for it.’

‘No, not me, my friend, I’m just an innocent cat. And don’t forget to hide the box!’

Quick as a flash, Arthur stuffed it into the little pack which he always took fishing with him and put the hammer back. Attempting to retrieve the chisel from the wall, he found that it was in too deep and was forced to leave it.

‘Arthur! Open this door right now!’

With a last look around, he straightened his T-shirt and unbarred the door.

His mother was even more cross with him than he’d expected. Not only because going into the tool shed was expressly forbidden; but also, because, as luck would have it, she also spotted the chisel. The fact that he couldn’t give her a reasonable explanation as to how it’d gotten there only made matters worse.

‘So, you’re telling me that you have no idea how that chisel came to be stuck so far into the side of the tool shed wall that it can’t even be pulled out?’

‘Yes, Mama… I must have fallen over, and it flew out of my hand, I guess.’

‘You guess?’

‘Yes, Mama.’

‘And what were you doing with it in the first place?’

‘Trying to fix my backpack.’

‘Your backpack? With a chisel?’

‘Yes, well, I thought…’

‘Just you wait until Sasha hears about this. And what do you think your grandfather is going to say when he learns what you’ve done to his chisel, not to mention his tool shed. Again!’

‘I don’t know,’ said Arthur hanging his head, catching sight of the cat, who he was sure was grinning at him.

‘I don’t know, either! Now, get out of my sight while I decide what to do with you.’

And without needing to be told twice, Arthur grabbed his things and hurried back to the house.

‘So maybe you were right, Cat. Maybe it really can’t be opened,’ whispered Arthur, having crept up to the attic to avoid being seen.

‘A box that can’t be opened. It doesn’t sound very likely, or very useful, does it?’

‘What? You’ve gone and changed your tune.’

‘I never said it couldn’t be opened. I said that maybe we shouldn’t be trying to open it. Also, the more I think about the inscription on it, the more I think it sounds like a riddle.’

‘A riddle?’

‘Yep. And as you know, there’s nothing us cats love more than a good riddle. Especially when it’s raining and a small group of us have gotten together to pass the time.’

Arthur glanced at him in amazement.

‘What? Don’t tell me that you didn’t know that.’

‘Um, well I…’

‘See—just goes to show how much you don’t know about cats.’

‘Actually, I always thought that cats didn’t like each other much,’ said Arthur, recalling all the times he’d watched his cat seeing off the neighbours’ cat.

‘Ah well now, there’s an interesting theme for a discussion. I’m guessing that it also never occurred to you that we’ve had to come up with ways to amuse ourselves over the years? No offence intended of course, but you humans aren’t exactly the most interesting creatures to be around most of the time. I bet, for instance, you never knew that cats just adore theatre; re-enactments of legendary battles between cats and dragons, or the exploits of the great Catiators of Roman times. And yes, thats right, it was us cats who invented the whole gladiators idea and all that stuff. You just copied us as usual.’

Arthur stared at him, more than a bit confused.

‘Catiators? …So what about that big ginger next door, then?’

‘Fluffy? What about him?’

‘Fluffy? He’s not called Fluffy. He’s called Brutus.’

‘You call him Brutus, yes, but his name is actually Fluffy. Fine fellow, actually.’

‘Fluffy!’ repeated Arthur, trying not to laugh.

‘Sure, what else would it be?’

‘What, and he’s really your friend?’

‘Of course he is, and a very fine riddler, too.’

‘Woah! Hang on a second. If the cat next door is called Fluffy by other cats, what do they call you?’

‘That my dear fellow, I will never tell!’

‘Oh, come on! It can’t be that bad.’

‘No, it’s not at all bad, but it’s my business, and my name is private to me.’

‘Oh, come on, Cat. You can’t be serious. You’re really not going to tell me?’

‘Nope—not for all the roast chicken in China!’

‘Fine, suit yourself, then,’ Arthur said, not even trying to disguise how offended he felt at that moment. ‘I’m sure it’s very silly, anyway. I bet they call you Biffy, or Mini Mouse or something.’

‘Ha! Nice try, but no.’

‘Whatever, not that interested anyway.’

‘Yeah, sure you’re not.’

‘So, anyway, if you’re so good at riddles, what do you think this one means? “To open what is both known yet unknown, speak this word times three.”’

‘Well,’ replied the cat, stretching himself out full-length on the floor. ‘I didn’t exactly say that I was really good at them. I mean, I’m not bad, and now that you mention it, I’m pretty good, but not the best… No, probably not the best.’

‘Soooo?’

‘So, hold your horses. These things take time. I need to think about it.’

‘Oh, Cat!’

‘Arthur? Who are you talking to?’

His mother’s head had just appeared at the top of the stairs. She was still looking angry, her long dark hair tied back, only serving to emphasise her stern look even more.

‘Hmm?’ he asked, not having a clue how he was supposed to answer that.

‘I asked who you were talking to? The cat again, I suppose?’

‘I guess.’

‘Right, well, that settles it then. I’m going to call your friend Lizzy’s mother and invite them over at last. You’ve really been spending too much time running wild by yourself this summer. I always thought she was very sensible for her age.

‘Wild?’ he mumbled after she’d gone. All he ever did was go fishing at the lake. There was nothing wild about that. As for Lizzy though, well, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. She was smart. She might even be able to help them figure out this box thing.

‘So, what about Lizzy, then?’ he whispered.

‘I know what you’re thinking, but we don’t need any help.’

‘But I thought you liked her? You always sit with her when she comes.’

‘That’s because she’s warm and scratches my ears very nicely. Which, incidentally, is something you could learn to do better. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and see a cat about a riddle.’

And getting up, Cat sauntered off in the direction of the stairs.

3

Speak This Word

When Arthur awoke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was that the cat wasn’t anywhere to be found. Guessing it probably meant that he was still ‘riddling’ with the big ginger next door, and having caught wind that Aunty M was readying a long list of things for him to do, he’d fled upstairs to the attic to try and delay the inevitable.

Hiding in a part of the room that couldn’t be seen from the stairs, he placed the box on the floor in front of him and sat staring at it.

‘You know, I bet you turn out to be a whole lot of nothing,’ he said, finally picking it up. The longer he gazed at it, the more foolish he started to feel for wantingto believe that it could be anything more than just some ordinary little box. Feeling annoyed with himself, he was about to throw it in a drawer but stopped.

No, wait! What about everything that has already happened?… It can’t all be coincidental, can it? That weird white light; my hands; suddenly being able to talk to the cat; the hole in the tracks; the fish; the box; the reports of the men looking for it.

‘They’ve all got to be connected somehow. But how?’ he asked out loud.

‘You do know, right, that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness?’ meowed the cat, strolling into the room at that moment.

‘Ha ha, where’ve you been?’

‘Busy solving the greatest riddle that never actually was.’

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You’ll see when I tell you the answer. Fluffy and I have solved it. Well, it was more me than Fluffy. I’m sure even he would agree.’

‘So?’

‘Well, it was really just staring us right in the whiskers the whole time.’

‘Great, but I’ve been staring at it all morning, and I didn’t feel it staring at my whiskers.’

‘That’s because you’ve been looking without really looking.’

Arthur rolled his eyes. ‘Brilliant! OK, and…?’

‘Hmm?’ asked the cat, distracted by a small beetle scurrying across the floor.

‘C’mon, what’s the answer?’

‘Oh, that. Just say “open” three times.’

‘What—that’s it?!’

‘I told you it was simple.’

‘Just a bit!’ Could it really be so simple? he wondered, shaking his head. ‘Well, I guess we should try it, at least.’

‘Yep, right—off you go then!’ said the cat, forgetting about the insect all of a sudden, and beating a hasty retreat towards the stairs.

Watching him from the corner of his eye, Arthur cupped the box in his hands and held them out in front of him.

‘So, I’m just going to say “open” three times, then.’

‘Yep. Three times ought to do it.’

‘OK, here we go. Open!’

The cat had reached the top.

‘Open!’ he said again.

Arthur could feel his hands beginning to shake with excitement and his heart racing.

‘Open!… Cat! Why are you—’

Suddenly, the little box shot into the air, freezing halfway between the floor and the ceiling. Snapping open, a bright white light like he’d seen the night of the storm spilled out of it, filling the room instantly. Coloured spheres began to materialise everywhere. And between them, countless shining points. Arthur, mesmerised by what was happening, ducked as a small green-and-blue sphere appeared just above his head.

‘Cat…’

‘I’m here… I see them!’ he meowed dreamily.

‘What are they?’

‘I have no idea. But they’re soooo pretty.’

A moment later, the room was plunged into darkness. The coloured spheres, the points of light, continuing to shine, now appeared to be grouped into clusters.

‘Cat! I think I’ve got it! I know what this is! They’re planets, suns, and stars. I saw something like this when I was at the planetarium. It’s got to be a map—a star map! And look over there, there’s some kind of writing near one of the groups. See?’

‘Yes, yes, I see. What’s it say?’ he whispered, coming closer and trying to catch one of the spheres with a paw.

‘I don’t know, but they look like symbols of some sort. I reckon it must mean that there’s something special about those planets.’

‘You mean like a warning not to ever go there.’

‘That’d be weird, don’t you think?’

‘Not really.’

‘But, if it is a map, then where did it come from? And how did it get to Earth?’

‘And who put it at the bottom of a lake?’

‘Or on that weird train that blew up?’

‘If it really was on that train!’

‘What? Of course it was on the train. Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence that it fell into the lake exactly on the night of the bright light, which was also when it looks like it blew up?’

‘Maybe. Or perhaps it actually fell out of a passing aircraft blinded by that exact light.’

‘An aircraft?’ laughed Arthur. ‘And I suppose that whoever it was who happened to be flying it also happened to be holding the box out of the window at that exact moment?’

‘Why not? Or maybe it also blew up. And before you say it’s not possible, don’t forget that I talked to a fish yesterday.’

‘Sure, but it definitely came from the train.’

‘Or a plane which blew up.’

‘Train!’

‘Plane!’

And whilst they were arguing, the slow spinning planets and otherworldly symbols began to fade. Snapping shut, the box fell with a thud to the floor, making them both jump.

Prodding it to make sure it wasn’t hot, Arthur picked up the box just in time to catch a faint pattern of light visible around its edges.

‘I wonder what we should do with it. It looks like it might really be important. What do you reckon?’

‘I vote that we give it to your mum. We can say that it’s magic and that its hers if she agrees to start feeding me better.’

‘To my mum—are you mad? We’d be in trouble for having found it in the first place.’

‘Rats!’

‘Listen, we need to find out who that train belongs to and give it to them, maybe.’

‘Yeah, well, good luck with that. You do remember the size of that hole, right? I’m not liking our chances of still finding anyone who was onboard.’

‘Oh c’mon, we don’t know that. And anyway, someone came looking for it afterwards. Remember what the fish said? That has to mean that somebody knows something.’

‘I guess.’

‘So, let’s get out of here and come up with a plan. I can’t be made to be doing chores before we’ve sorted this out.’

Creeping down the narrow, ladder-like stairs, Arthur stopped at the bottom and peered round the door frame. He was in luck. His mother and aunt were talking in the kitchen, which meant he’d be able to leave unseen. Opening the front door and just about to make a run for it, he suddenly turned and dashed back up into the attic.

‘Hey, where are you going?’ meowed the cat, scampering after him. ‘I thought we were going out?’

‘No way… It can’t be!’ exclaimed Arthur, running over to the window. ‘Cat! There—look!’ he cried, as three helicopters flew into view just over the tops of the trees. ‘You don’t think they know, do you?’

‘What are you on about?’ the cat meowed, jumping onto the window sill and standing on his hind legs to get a better view.

‘I’m on about them! It can’t be a coincidence, can it? They’re coming right for us. They must know that we opened it – But how!?.’