Twice Upon a Time, page 15
‘Yes?’
‘You said it again, just now, in the shop: Come along, Badger Boy …’
‘I’m not sure that …’
‘But there’s more, just before that you called me Ginny-Flower …’
‘I know, but …’
‘Digger Dagger, Badger Boy is Pop’s name for Badger. No one else calls him that … And nobody but Pop ever calls me Ginny-Flower. He’s called me that ever since I was a little girl. It’s his pet name for me …’
Digger Dagger stared at Ginny.
Then she said, ‘Digger Dagger, why are you channelling Pop?’
‘Channelling Pop?’
‘Why are you?’ Ginny sounded agitated.
Digger Dagger tried to calm her. ‘I don’t know, I don’t know. I’m not aware that …’
Ginny gazed at him wonderingly.
‘Digger Dagger, who are you?’
He stared at her equally wonderingly.
‘I’ve told you. Digger Dagger …’
‘But who is Digger Dagger?’
There was a long pause as Digger Dagger struggled to find the words, and then discovered there weren’t any.
‘What did Mr Nod just shout out?’ asked Ginny.
‘That we were on the right track,’ said Digger Dagger.
‘What did he mean?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘We thought that Sod and Nod were one and the same …’ said Ginny.
‘So?’
‘Remember, you arrived in the garden and Pop disappeared at the same time,’ said Ginny.
‘So I did. And I thought that must be because I was there to help you find him.’
‘I thought so, too, but …’
‘But what if some very wicked storyteller changed Pop into Digger Dagger and then sent us both on a wild goose chase just to tell a stupid story?’
Digger Dagger’s big brown eyes widened. ‘Then?’
‘One and one make one,’ said Ginny wonderingly.
‘Digger Dagger and Pop are one and the same?’ asked Digger Dagger. ‘You mean that I’m really …?’
‘There’s only one way to find out!’ said Ginny. ‘Back into the shop!’
They rushed back into Nod’s Diary.
Catching their excitement, Badger was barking enthusiastically.
To their surprise the shop was empty, just as it had been when they had first found it. Mr Topper and Dotty had somehow vanished, leaving behind only the racks of diaries.
Ginny seized the bell and rang it, shaking it as violently as Aesop Sod had only a few minutes before.
There were several moments of suspense before they heard footsteps. They were not surprised when Aesop Sod, rather than Mr Nod, came through the door and then stood behind the counter.
He did not seem surprised to see them, either.
‘You have solved the riddle?’ he asked flatly.
Ginny nodded. ‘We’ve got it.’
‘That fool, Nod, gave the show away,’ said Aesop Sod crossly. ‘I should really disqualify you for cheating.
The trouble is, I myself am very much in favour of cheating.’
‘Mr Nod meant well,’ said Ginny. ‘Anyway, we still had to work it out.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Aesop Sod. ‘You know, I’ve tried to help him, but he’s just so infuriatingly good.’
‘Perhaps you should try being good sometime,’ said Digger Dagger. ‘It might be a new experience!’
‘Some experiences I can do without,’ said Aesop Sod. ‘Well?’
‘One and one make one,’ said Ginny, ‘we believe means that Pop and Digger Dagger are one and the same.’
Aesop Sod remained impassive. For a moment Ginny thought he hadn’t heard her properly, or had not understood.
She tried again.
‘Pop is one and Digger Dagger is one and together they equal one.’
Aesop Sod stared at them and sighed. All the superiority seemed to seep out of him like air from a punctured tyre.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I do concede. You win.’
‘Well?’ demanded Ginny.
‘Well what?’ asked Sod.
‘Where’s Pop?’
Aesop Sod smiled, pointing at Digger Dagger. ‘You’ve just told me. There he is. Right there!’ he said. ‘Now if you three will all excuse me, I have a particularly vicious story to write.’
Without another word, he turned and strode into the storeroom, slamming the door behind him.
Digger Dagger and Ginny stared at one another.
‘Oh dear,’ said Digger Dagger.
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Ginny, dejected again. ‘I mean I like you a lot, Digger Dagger – I really do – especially now that I know you’re really Pop and all. But we’re still trapped in this place and, even if we get back, I don’t know that Nan will cope with you looking like that. I’m not even sure Mum will manage it.’
‘If I’m Pop,’ said Digger Dagger sadly, ‘I don’t know how I’ll cope looking like this either.’
‘What’ll we do?’
Digger Dagger looked about the empty shop.
‘I don’t really know,’ he said. ‘I don’t feel like staying here, though. This shop, the whole place is giving me the creeps. Come here, Badger Boy …’
Badger bounded happily up to him and he bent down to attach the little dog’s lead. Then he stood up, resting on the walking stick, which was several sizes too big for him.
Ginny smiled.
‘You know,’ she said, ‘with Badger right there and with the walking stick, I can almost imagine you as Pop – if you were much taller, thinner and had white hair and a white moustache and …’
‘As you said, though,’ said Digger Dagger, ‘I don’t think Martha and Marian would be very happy if …’
Ginny stared at him. ‘Do you realise that you called Nan and Mum by their names. Something must be coming back!’
‘Did I?’ asked Digger Dagger. ‘Curious. Let’s get out of here!’
In which Pop pops into the dairy
With a final backward glance, Ginny led the way out of Nod’s Diary.
When she reached the footpath, though, she paused in surprise.
The trees on the street were autumnal once more.
Yellow leaves, orange leaves, brown leaves. Some were already bare.
It also seemed to be late afternoon because the lights were shining in Don’s Dairy across the street.
‘Hey,’ she whispered.
She looked up and down the street. It was a familiar street. Down one block, turn right and then left and they would be home.
She turned to tell Digger Dagger.
The little man wasn’t standing behind her.
Instead, there was a tall, slightly stooped man, with white hair and a white moustache. He held a silver-topped walking stick in his right hand and his left hand held a dog’s lead. Badger sat contentedly beside him.
‘Pop!’
‘Yes, Ginny.’
‘You’re back!’
‘I wasn’t aware I’d been away.’
‘But …’
Ginny’s Pop looked up and down the street as if renewing a fond memory. Then he took in a deep breath and slowly breathed out again. ‘Lovely,’ he murmured.
Ginny grinned. It was lovely.
She reached for Pop’s hand but he shook it away.
‘Look after Badger for a few moments will you?’ he said. ‘I want to pop into Don’s for a little surprise.’
‘For Nan?’
‘No, for you, actually.’
Ginny, confused, watched as her grandfather crossed the street. Before he entered the shop he gave her a cheerful little wave.
She looked about her, shivering a little and not just from the suddenly chill, autumnal air. Just to be actually sure, she glanced over her shoulder.
As she suspected, there was no Nod’s Diary. There was just an ordinary suburban house with old-fashioned Venetian blinds in the street-facing window and a roughly tended lawn in front.
She heard footsteps coming along the footpath and she looked around.
To her astonishment and sudden apprehension, it was Mr Topper, although he had lost his top hat and his chequered suit. He had the same face, though, and the same gingery hair and ginger moustache.
‘Oh, hello,’ he said. ‘Any sign of your granddad?’
Ginny stared again. Topper’s face seemed to lose focus and then reassembled.
With a flood of relief, she saw that it was really the younger policeman who had visited Nan, the smart one whom she hadn’t warmed to.
‘Yes,’ said Ginny. ‘He’s back.’
‘Back?’
‘In a funny way,’ said Ginny, ‘he was never really lost.’
The ginger-headed policeman looked at her. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said.
Ginny said, ‘It’s a very complicated story.’
She felt a little uncomfortable as the police officer waited, clearly expecting her to tell him all about it. She was then relieved to see Pop emerging from Don’s Dairy, a package under his arm.
‘Here he is now,’ said Ginny, as Pop crossed the road.
‘Good evening, sir,’ said the policeman, as Pop reached them. ‘I’m glad you’ve been located.’
‘Located?’ asked Pop.
‘You were reported missing.’
‘Missing?’
‘Your wife …’
‘Oh, Martha … you know,’ he said confidentially to the policeman. ‘She – like all of us really – she’s getting a little forgetful in her old age. She must have forgotten I had a bridge tournament …’
‘A bridge tournament?’
Pop nodded cheerfully. ‘That’s it.’
‘Oh,’ said the policeman, confused. ‘I suppose that’s all right, then. Well goodbye, Mr …’
‘Rogers,’ said Pop, ‘and you are?’
‘Topper,’ said the police officer. ‘Detective Constable Topper. Nuisance of a name for a policeman, isn’t it? Topper the Copper and all that.’
‘I suppose it is,’ said Pop. ‘Goodbye, then.’
‘Goodbye, Mr Rogers.’
As the policeman walked away, Pop took Ginny by the arm. ‘Let’s go home, Ginny-Flower,’ he said. ‘You know, I’m feeling rather hungry.’
‘Did you buy something to eat at Don’s?’ asked Ginny.
‘I certainly did,’ said Pop, swinging his walking stick jauntily. ‘I bought a packet of lamingtons. Somehow I had a feeling you’d really enjoy them.’
James Norcliffe has published a collection of short stories, nine collections of poetry and several award-winning novels for young readers, including the bestselling The Loblolly Boy and its successor, The Loblolly Boy and the Sorcerer. His most recent books for young people are Felix and the Red Rats and The Pirates and the Nightmaker.
James has edited anthologies of poetry and writing by young people, notably the long-running ReDraft annual anthologies, which he co-edits with Tessa Duder. James has been awarded writing fellowships both in New Zealand and overseas, including the Burns Fellowship, the IWP/Iowa Residency, and residencies in Hobart and at Massey University and Otago University College of Education.
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First published by Penguin Random House New Zealand, 2017
Text © James Norcliffe, 2017
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ISBN: 978-0-14-377068-8
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James Norcliffe, Twice Upon a Time
