Dirtier, part 10
Dec. 5th, 2008 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rabidsamfanSam swallowed hard. "Who? How?"
For all that the man must have been as old as Sam's father, he seemed suddenly much younger. "That's the trouble. I don't remember."
Sam caught a chapped piece of his lip between his teeth and worried at it, trying to think of the right question to ask next. It wasn't much comfort to think that after fifteen years there couldn't be much of an emergency -- the problem felt urgent, and that was enough to be worrisome.
"Sam! Sam!" Annie and Orly came trotting up, festooned with everyone's satchels and jackets. "Lookit what Peanut's up to!" Orly added, nodding the direction he meant since his hands were full.
Sam looked. "Bloody hell!" Tinpot was still searching the sidewalk and gutters industriously, but Peanut was creeping up behind the man by the van, his hand reaching for an overcoat pocket in what the little idiot probably thought was just the way that the Artful Dodger would do it, even though he looked a lot more like Oliver about to fall on his arse. Cursing all movies on television and his mother's love of musicals, Sam raised his fingers to his lips and whistled as loudly as he could. "PEANUT! TINPOT! GET OVER HERE!"
Tinpot unfolded himself from his crouch and waved, and Peanut immediately put on an air of innocence and began sauntering back to the schoolyard. The man in the overcoat, however, quickly turned away and stepped back, the way he had the first time that Sam had noticed him, which was funny and not in a ha-ha-ha kind of way. Sam frowned, and Peanut and Tinpot, misinterpreting his glare, began to babble explanations as they reached the bench.
"I've only found two bottles, but I'm still looking," Tinpot got out first, pulling out his prizes from a pocket and passing them to Peter.
"I told you, that man's taken it." Peanut shrilled.
"You don't know it was a pill bottle he picked up," Tinpot's disgust was plain. "He said he found a coin."
"You don't know it wasn't a pill bottle," Peanut said, balling up his fists.
Sam took a shoulder in each hand and shook them both, hard. "Shurrup. You want half the school to know our business?"
"I saw him put it in his pocket!" Peanut insisted, but much more quietly. "Whatever it was."
Orly nudged Sam's elbow. "He was watching. And Peanut's right, he did put something in his pocket."
"He's been following me," the injured man said grimly. "I don't know why."
"Maybe he's a cop," Annie suggested. "Cops follow people."
"If he was cop, he'd have chased us off. A bunch of kids? No. And besides, you're not a bad'un." Sam was certain of that, somehow, and felt rewarded by the sudden pleased glint in the injured man's eyes. He held out a hand. "My name's Holmes."
"As in Sherlock?"
"Yes. No. I mean, it's Sam, Samuel. It really is Holmes, though. Samuel Holmes." Sam knew his ears were scarlet. "But my friends call me Sam."
"My friends call me Gumby," the man answered, taking the hand at last, and giving it a grown-up kind of shake. It wasn't a real name, Sam recognized, and wondered if that was because of the amnesia, but he couldn't help but feel pleased at the thought of being worthy of friendship.
"Because your brain hurts?" Tinpot chirruped, interrupting Sam's train of thought, and he and Peanut made themselves go stiff and started shouting in slow syllables, "My...brain... hurts..." until Florrie clouted them.
"There wasn't any Monty Python in 1961," she pointed out.
Tinpot rubbed his ear. "Who said anyfin about 1961?" he muttered.
Gumby looked genuinely baffled but he smiled at Florrie. "The name's nothing to do with snakes. Just a little clayboy on the telly, gets into all kinds of trouble."
"And you're in trouble now," Sam said. "What do you need most, do you think?"
"A chance to think things through; a way to get home." Gumby answered simply. "Answers." He didn't look towards the watching man, but it was clear enough that he also wanted to go without being followed.
"Where's home?" Peter asked.
"The Isle of Dogs. Leastwise it was."
"Why go there, if it's not home anymore?" Florrie wanted to know.
"It might still be, for all I know. And I have a feeling that if I can just... follow the memories I do have, go to the places where I know I was... I might remember more."
"The Isle of Dogs." Sam felt a rush of excitement as he suddenly thought of a plan. This was better than any game he'd ever come up with. "That's on the river, isn't it? By the East End?"
"That's right."
"Then I know how to get you there. We just need to hide you for a little while first." Sam marshalled his troops. "Annie, tell Toad we're going to need him over by the coal chute, Peter, go home and then take the secret passage over to meet us. Tinpot, you'll be lookout. Orly, you'll help me and Toad get him down the chute. Florrie, in five minutes the parent teacher conferences are meant to be over and there'll be a gazillion grownups out here. You and Peanut come up with a way of distracting them, and see if you can't do it between him," he jerked his head toward the watcher, "and the chute. Peanut?"
"Yes, Sam?" Peanut bounced gleefully, clever enough to tell that he'd just been given a license for mayhem.
"Try not to break anything expensive, hey?"
"Sam, what are you thinking?" Florrie protested.
"Thinking about the Handy." Sam answered.
"But we're not allowed to take her out without... " Florrie's eyes widened, as she realized what Sam was up to and he grinned at her. He could always count on Florrie to think ahead. "Without a grownup."
"And Gumby's a grownup." Orly finished the thought. "Sam, that's brilliant."
"What are you talking about?" Gumby asked, looking worried.
"Talking about getting you home." Sam crouched down so that Gumby didn't have to look up at him for their eyes to meet. "You can't walk from here, it's too far. And if we put you in a cab, or take you down to the Tube, you'll be followed by The Watcher, right?"
"Right."
"But this is Kingston upon Thames. The River's right down the street from us. And we've got something The Watcher doesn't have." Sam could feel the sheer exhilaration of adventure taking over his soul, knowing from the grins around him that the other kids had fallen into the plan too, as soon as they'd figured it out. Absolutely the best plan, ever. "We've got a boat."
For all that the man must have been as old as Sam's father, he seemed suddenly much younger. "That's the trouble. I don't remember."
Sam caught a chapped piece of his lip between his teeth and worried at it, trying to think of the right question to ask next. It wasn't much comfort to think that after fifteen years there couldn't be much of an emergency -- the problem felt urgent, and that was enough to be worrisome.
"Sam! Sam!" Annie and Orly came trotting up, festooned with everyone's satchels and jackets. "Lookit what Peanut's up to!" Orly added, nodding the direction he meant since his hands were full.
Sam looked. "Bloody hell!" Tinpot was still searching the sidewalk and gutters industriously, but Peanut was creeping up behind the man by the van, his hand reaching for an overcoat pocket in what the little idiot probably thought was just the way that the Artful Dodger would do it, even though he looked a lot more like Oliver about to fall on his arse. Cursing all movies on television and his mother's love of musicals, Sam raised his fingers to his lips and whistled as loudly as he could. "PEANUT! TINPOT! GET OVER HERE!"
Tinpot unfolded himself from his crouch and waved, and Peanut immediately put on an air of innocence and began sauntering back to the schoolyard. The man in the overcoat, however, quickly turned away and stepped back, the way he had the first time that Sam had noticed him, which was funny and not in a ha-ha-ha kind of way. Sam frowned, and Peanut and Tinpot, misinterpreting his glare, began to babble explanations as they reached the bench.
"I've only found two bottles, but I'm still looking," Tinpot got out first, pulling out his prizes from a pocket and passing them to Peter.
"I told you, that man's taken it." Peanut shrilled.
"You don't know it was a pill bottle he picked up," Tinpot's disgust was plain. "He said he found a coin."
"You don't know it wasn't a pill bottle," Peanut said, balling up his fists.
Sam took a shoulder in each hand and shook them both, hard. "Shurrup. You want half the school to know our business?"
"I saw him put it in his pocket!" Peanut insisted, but much more quietly. "Whatever it was."
Orly nudged Sam's elbow. "He was watching. And Peanut's right, he did put something in his pocket."
"He's been following me," the injured man said grimly. "I don't know why."
"Maybe he's a cop," Annie suggested. "Cops follow people."
"If he was cop, he'd have chased us off. A bunch of kids? No. And besides, you're not a bad'un." Sam was certain of that, somehow, and felt rewarded by the sudden pleased glint in the injured man's eyes. He held out a hand. "My name's Holmes."
"As in Sherlock?"
"Yes. No. I mean, it's Sam, Samuel. It really is Holmes, though. Samuel Holmes." Sam knew his ears were scarlet. "But my friends call me Sam."
"My friends call me Gumby," the man answered, taking the hand at last, and giving it a grown-up kind of shake. It wasn't a real name, Sam recognized, and wondered if that was because of the amnesia, but he couldn't help but feel pleased at the thought of being worthy of friendship.
"Because your brain hurts?" Tinpot chirruped, interrupting Sam's train of thought, and he and Peanut made themselves go stiff and started shouting in slow syllables, "My...brain... hurts..." until Florrie clouted them.
"There wasn't any Monty Python in 1961," she pointed out.
Tinpot rubbed his ear. "Who said anyfin about 1961?" he muttered.
Gumby looked genuinely baffled but he smiled at Florrie. "The name's nothing to do with snakes. Just a little clayboy on the telly, gets into all kinds of trouble."
"And you're in trouble now," Sam said. "What do you need most, do you think?"
"A chance to think things through; a way to get home." Gumby answered simply. "Answers." He didn't look towards the watching man, but it was clear enough that he also wanted to go without being followed.
"Where's home?" Peter asked.
"The Isle of Dogs. Leastwise it was."
"Why go there, if it's not home anymore?" Florrie wanted to know.
"It might still be, for all I know. And I have a feeling that if I can just... follow the memories I do have, go to the places where I know I was... I might remember more."
"The Isle of Dogs." Sam felt a rush of excitement as he suddenly thought of a plan. This was better than any game he'd ever come up with. "That's on the river, isn't it? By the East End?"
"That's right."
"Then I know how to get you there. We just need to hide you for a little while first." Sam marshalled his troops. "Annie, tell Toad we're going to need him over by the coal chute, Peter, go home and then take the secret passage over to meet us. Tinpot, you'll be lookout. Orly, you'll help me and Toad get him down the chute. Florrie, in five minutes the parent teacher conferences are meant to be over and there'll be a gazillion grownups out here. You and Peanut come up with a way of distracting them, and see if you can't do it between him," he jerked his head toward the watcher, "and the chute. Peanut?"
"Yes, Sam?" Peanut bounced gleefully, clever enough to tell that he'd just been given a license for mayhem.
"Try not to break anything expensive, hey?"
"Sam, what are you thinking?" Florrie protested.
"Thinking about the Handy." Sam answered.
"But we're not allowed to take her out without... " Florrie's eyes widened, as she realized what Sam was up to and he grinned at her. He could always count on Florrie to think ahead. "Without a grownup."
"And Gumby's a grownup." Orly finished the thought. "Sam, that's brilliant."
"What are you talking about?" Gumby asked, looking worried.
"Talking about getting you home." Sam crouched down so that Gumby didn't have to look up at him for their eyes to meet. "You can't walk from here, it's too far. And if we put you in a cab, or take you down to the Tube, you'll be followed by The Watcher, right?"
"Right."
"But this is Kingston upon Thames. The River's right down the street from us. And we've got something The Watcher doesn't have." Sam could feel the sheer exhilaration of adventure taking over his soul, knowing from the grins around him that the other kids had fallen into the plan too, as soon as they'd figured it out. Absolutely the best plan, ever. "We've got a boat."
