As Miguel and I strolled home to the apartment at 6 Sumac, we sang Anti Smolkin's gruesome lyrics to Scarborough Fair and tried to figure a way to fit drool, mule, ghoul, gruel and fool into the song.
As soon I opened the apartment door, Pacman greeted us with his harness trailing from his mouth indicating his desire for a walk.
'It that a dog?' Miguel asked incredulously as Pacman sniffed at his credentials and welcomed him as an honorary member of his wolf pack. 'He has teeth like a piranha.'
I grinned. 'Pacman thinks he's a wolf but he's really a sabre tooth gerbil.'
'The board's fixable,' Miguel pronounced after a quick inspection of my broken skateboard. 'Why don't we take it to my place? We've got some epoxy adhesive.'
I stuffed the parts of my skateboard into my backpack and we set off with Pacman trotting in front. On the way, we stopped by the Galactic Fruit and Deli, the local corner store. Miguel needed more chocolate chip cookies and I could forage for freebies.
I tied Pacman's leash to the bike rack outside the store as Miguel swung into the glass doors and smashed his nose into the glass. 'Houston, we have a malfunction,' he announced rubbing his nose. 'Technically speaking, the automatic door is on the fritz.'
I pointed to the sign on the door, Exit - Do not enter, as I looked up and grinned at the infra red detector above the entrance.
Miguel rolled eyes. 'Klutz. That's not a camera.'
I gave him a triumphant grin as the door slid aside. 'I know that. We blonds don't emit enough heat from the top of our heads. I have to look up and open my mouth to trigger the detector.'
'Grab a basket,' Miguel instructed, 'and pretended you're not with me. They know me, here.'
The store appeared almost empty except for the checkout clerk, an overstuffed gorilla wearing a greasy ball cap backwards. He was listening to his MP3 and humming tunelessly. He didn't look like a galactic refugee. He seemed like any other Canadian. Hard to tell these days.
His small, black beady eyes watched us, without interested, as we each collected a basket and sidled along the produce counter. I recognized tomatoes, bagels and baked beans but everything else was clearly not of this world. Withered roots and shrivelled sea slugs shared shelf space with fossil fish bones packed in plastic. Salted entrails and freeze dried fungus seemed popular.
I looked around but Miguel had disappeared so I looked for the freebies. My heart lurched as I saw the extra-galactic butcher standing motionless behind the counter. He looked like the checkout clerk's twin and he glowered at me suspiciously.
'Er, um,' I stuttered. 'Ex- excuses me. Are there any free samples?'
The extra-galactic waved a meat cleaver. 'Over der,' he growled. 'Oi 'ave cheese a' cake but der's not much lef' o' der cake.'
He was right about the cake. There were only a few crumbs on the plate. There wasn't much cheese either, just two tiny pieces impaled on giant tooth picks. My stomach rumbled.
Mom had given me ten dollars for emergencies and I figured imminent starvation qualified as an emergency so I looked for Miguel in the cookie aisle. I didn't find him but I caught a glimpse of a small man as he passed the end of the racks. He was furtively dragging an aluminum briefcase on wheels. Mr Bragg.
He was probably only shopping for a jug of milk but I was curious. The store was dark, deserted and overheated and the checkout gorilla looked bored. He had abandoned the MPE player but his head was still jigging up and down in time to a wailing falsetto coming from a CD player on top of the cash. Galactic music? His beady black eyes followed me without interest until I was lost in the maze of boxes and racks.
I was soon surrounded by what appeared to be racks of dried and canned food but all the labels were in Arabic or Chinese. Nothing looked like something I could eat. The racks were set up at odd angles and offset so the narrow, congested aisles twisted around and doubled back on themselves like a maze. It seemed to get gloomier the further I went into the store. I had a weird feeling it was a Möbius strip. I couldn't find Miguel or Mr Bragg. I was lost in hyperspace at the back of a grocery store. I looked around feeling dizzy.
Mr Bragg's voice brought me back to reality. It was coming from a partially open steel door behind a carton of dusty rubber overshoes. I was about to knock on the door and ask for directions but then a voice boomed impatiently.
'So you brought zde radio-isotopes, goot, but you haf been vurkink at VongTime for months. I do not pay for no information.' The voice was harsh, like a rasp grating over a tin sheet. He sounded angry. 'I VONT RESULTS, SOON! '
'I need more time,' Mr Bragg's begged. 'Please, Murga.'
Adrenalin surged into my blood stream. Murga! I couldn't decide whether to run, so I stood there listening nervously.
'So, Erich,' Murga asked impatiently. 'Vot about Ziff Dion?'
My chest heaved as my heart seemed to stop.
'He's at Silverwood School,' Mr Bragg mumbled. 'He knows nothing.'
'Ein shtupid kid,' Murga ageed contemptuously. 'But, I don't vont to lose him.'
'I promise,' Mr Bragg babbled nervously. 'I will not lose him.'
After a moment Murga hissed, 'Vun ozder matter. Did you see zdat verdammt käseschnitzer, Onderdonk?'
Mr Bragg mumbled something then Murga added, 'I find out he is a Time Agency spy. Zo I haf no choice. He is curtailed definitively . . . Pity, I ruined a good suit.'
'His suit!' Mr Bragg exclaimed. 'What if the police find the body?'
'Har, har.' Murga laughed. 'Not his suit. Mine suit. Har, har. His body decorates a pingo in Nunavut. If police find it, zdey vill tink he is vell preserved, six hundert year old man. Har, har.'
My knees went weak with shock. Murga had killed Triple Oh!
Murga's voice had dropped to a menacing hiss. 'I must finish zdis kronog, zo I can get back, Erich. Don't vaste anymore of my time, Aay?' The final "eh?" was a parody of a Canadian accent, as if he had rehearsed it to deceive an immigration officer.
I ducked behind the overshoes as Mr Bragg stumbled through the door and scurried toward the checkout. He looked terrified. I would have felt sorry for him but I was horrified about Onderdonk's death.
A sizzling noise started up behind the partially open door and a brilliant blue light cast flickering shadows among the racks of produce. A part of my brain was telling me to get out of the store fast, but curiosity won. I stumbled through a clutter of empty boxes and looked through a gap in the door.
It was a walk-in freezer lit by a fluorescent lamp illuminating several animal carcasses dangling from an overhead conveyor. A strange odour filled the air, a mixture of freezer smell and chlorine. There was no sign of Murga. The intense flickering light came from behind a partition making everything seem sharper, brighter, surreal. I had a feeling I ought to know what it was.
I stepped into the room and almost tripped over a man curled up in the corner. I recoiled in horror thinking he was dead but he moved slightly and then I saw his arms and legs were tied. He wore a dirty, torn parka, padded trousers and well-worn boots. The parka hood covered his head and tape had been wrapped around his heavily bearded face covering his mouth. I reached out gingerly and put two fingers to his neck. He had a strong carotid pulse and seemed to be breathing normally. I shook him gently. 'Are you all right?'
He turned his head as his eyes flickered open and looked at me vaguely. I stood up so fast, I almost fell over in shock. The dirty, scruffy man was my missing father.
'Dad,' I gasped, 'it's me, Ziff. How did you get here?'
He tried to speak but the tape prevented him. I looked around until I found a box cutter and carefully cut through the tape and his bindings. He sat up painfully, rubbing his wrists as he pulled the tape away from his mouth. 'Ziff,' he croaked hoarsely, 'I was escaping from Murga but he caught me.'
I tried to help him stand up but he pushed me away and fell back. 'I can't walk. Drugs.'
'Dad. You've got to tell me what is happening.'
'I shifted the nexus location,' he mumbled indistinctly. 'Murga had to fix it. He'll be back any minute. Go. Get help.'
I ran to the check out counter clerk. He was still arguing with a customer. 'Please call the police. 911,' I panted. 'There's a man in the freezer. He's been attacked.'
The checkout gorilla lifted one earphone away from his ear and glared at me. 'In duh frizzer?' he asked suspiciously. 'Vot is wrong? Vee don't 'av' men in duh frizzer.'
'Please call,' I pleaded. 'It's urgent.'
He reluctantly picked up a cell phone and tapped 911. 'Oy vont police. Galactic Deli on Bonk Street . . . Da . . . Bonk Street . . . Da. Ottawa . . . Da . . . Capital of Canada. Man is attacked.'
I ran back, looking around for Miguel, tripped over a carton of frozen fish and crashed through the freezer door just as a side of beef slid aside and an enormous figure appeared outlined against the light. It was wearing a bloodstained white coat over a pink jump suit. It looked like a man but in place of a head there was a black cylinder with a black window in the front, a welder's mask. A large gloved hand shoved the mask up to reveal a close-cropped, bullet-shaped head with a wide jaw on a thick neck. I couldn't see the eyes. They were hidden by a slot of black light that writhed as if there was something inside trying to get out. I shivered, and not because I was cold. It looked like a cartoon. I searched for a more descriptive word. Alien.
'I - I was looking for the checkout?' I stammered hopefully.
Murga was twice my height and three times heavier but he moved toward me like a dancer. 'Zo, Ziff Dion,' he hissed ominously. Timing ist sehr goot.'
I darted for the door but he swept me up, like a doll, in a bear hug. It was not a friendly gesture. His huge head loomed above me and there was a stench of rotting fish.
And then, something weird happened. The front of my brain tingled inside my skull and in some strange way I felt as if Murga was tossing me into the air.
But he grunted in surprise and tightened his grip as I slid up through his arms. My brain slowed down as my head came level with his round ball-like face. Then I did what my soccer coach taught me. I slammed the top of my forehead into his nose, hitting just below the black slot. There was a crunching sound as his head snapped back, his grip slackened and I fell to the floor.
I must have been stunned for a moment for the next thing I saw was the ugliest face I had ever seen. It was black and hairy with a flat turned-up nose and two wicked looking fangs . . . No! Tusks. The wide spaced eyes gazed at me with amused indifference.
Murga puffed smoke into my face and my body began to feel numb, I could move only with great effort and then I couldn't move.
He pulled off his welder's mask and slipped a weird helmet of wires over my face. I couldn't see properly. My head was full of images that flashed and changed and my stomach lurched unpleasantly. Murga adjusted something and the images became sharper. Flashes of barely remembered childhood memories, places and faces I could not name morphed into abstract shapes like three-dimensional bar codes. Murga was recording my brain wave activity. A familiar face appeared in my mind, a nice woman with long blond hair. The image was replaced by another and the horror grew as I realized Murga was scrolling through my thoughts looking for something, stealing my memories. I was losing pieces of my mind, literally. I could not let him win. I resisted with every fibre of my being.
The image of the woman reappeared in my head. She had a loving smile. I felt safe. I knew who she was but I couldn't remember her name. I struggled to stop her memory leaving but she was gone and tears streamed down my face. For a moment I almost gave up but I knew she was still inside my head. I desperately need to escape . . . I had to find her.
Suddenly my brain was running at high speed and I jumped up without noticeable effort as in a dream. I tore the helmet off my head as I ran and instantly I was at the checkout counter wondering how I had got there.
I glanced back at the thunder of heavy feet. Murga was moving with astonishing speed after me. I watched him hurdle a carton of tomatoes and side step around a case of baked beans but he was moving too fast to make the last turn and he hit a rack. Incoherent curses filled the air as the rack fell on him, triggering a series of secondary crashes as two other racks fell over.
Miguel showed up, with Pacman sniffing behind and we tried to look like innocent bystanders as a police officer walked into the store.
By the time I had given the officer an abbreviated explanation and we got to the freezer, Murga was gone. He had disappeared completely and taken Dad with him. There was nothing in the freezer except the carcasses. The door and the light was gone and only a slight odour of ozone lingered.
The cop examined the freezer for hidden doors or any sign of criminal activity but found nothing. Eventually he decided that I was the only witness and he could do nothing without evidence. He made some notes, talked to the check out clerk (who knew nothing), wrote my name and address in his note book and finally left.
I was still shaking as Miguel continued our walk to his place. I told him about finding my father with Murga but I didn't mention Triple Oh or about the conversation between Murga and Mr Bragg or the horrible black face with tusks. It was too incredible and I was afraid he would think I was making it up.
When we reached Miguel's garage, I made him lock the door behind us. He went looking for the epoxy adhesive while I wondered how I had got away from Murga. How had he escaped with Dad? The strange freezer smell lingered in my nostrils, perhaps the drug had affected my perception. My knees were still shaking. I sat down on an old, wooden Coca Cola crate. The details were slipping away from my memory like an old dream. Who was the friendly woman in my memory? Had Murga been only a nightmare? Or, I was going crazy. I couldn't think of another explanation.
When Miguel returned, I was looking up at a narrow, boat-shaped object suspended from the ceiling. It was painted bright orange with turquoise stripes of varying widths. 'What's that?' I asked. 'It looks like a giant bar code.'
'How did you guess the name?' Miguel asked with surprise as he squeezed a thick fluid from two tubes onto a piece of cardboard and mixed them together with a wooden stir stick. 'That's my uncle's ice boat. He calls it a coffin on three skates with a sail on top that will go up to 100 km/h. If you like, you can come sailing with us. The lake usually freezes over just before Christmas . . . The epoxy is ready. It's the quick setting type so we have to work fast.'
We spread epoxy liberally on the broken edges of my skateboard using wooden stir sticks and we stuck the bits back together, covered them with plastic wrap and clamped them between two pieces of wood.
'That should be as good as new in two days,' Miguel declared. 'But I must warn you the wheels won't work too well in the snow. Maybe you should take them off and turn it into a snow board.'
Pacman growled softly and the hair on his back bristled like a porcupine. My panic returned with a rush of adrenaline. Murga? I peered through a gap in the garage door.
Outside, a Canada goose was moon-walking up and down like a demented sentry on guard. I let the air out of my lungs with a gasp. 'Miguel check this out.'
Miguel pressed the garage door button and, as the door opener raised the door, Pacman launched himself at the goose, yapping madly. The goose reared up in a threat posture, its huge wings ready to strike, but Pacman was not deterred. He leapt into the air and grabbed a wingtip between his teeth. The goose staggered around in a circle, flapping its wings, trying to shake him loose. Pacman was enjoying the ride.
Finally, the goose honked. 'Guluk oik, Ziff laddie, would yeh no call off yehr hoond before he breaks ma cover?'
Miguel's eyes were like saucers and his mouth was open but no sound came out for some moments. 'Holy granola!' he gasped at last. 'Did that goose just speak?'
I started breathing again. I wasn't delusional. I yelled at Pacman. 'Stop bugging Dunc!'
Pacman dropped to the ground looking pleased with himself.
'Dunc?' Miguel gasped in amazement. 'You know each other? Did that . . . goose speak? '
I grinned. 'Miguel, this is my Uncle Dunc.'
Miguel's jaw dropped further. He looked quite funny with his mouth open. 'Your uncle?'
'By way o' adoption o' course,' Dunc hooted cheerfully. 'Duncan MacPhun, undercover goose, at yehr service. Pleased tuh meet yeh.' He held out a wing tip as if to shake hands.
'Dunc,' I stammered, 'do you know what happened to my father? Is he still in Ottawa?'
Dunc looked at the ground. 'Ah'm sorry Ziff. Murga took him away. He's not in Ottawa. Ondy is trying to locate the place and time where they might be.'
Suspicious of a trick, Miguel was walking around Dunc looking at him from all angles. 'This is incredible, a life-like computer generated goose. It's better than the movies. How does it work?'
'Laddie,' Dunc said scornfuly, 'ah'm no a computer generated goose. Ah'm real, but enhanced a wee bit.'
'Way cool!' Miguel gulped. 'Can you fly?'
Dunc peered at Miguel doubtfully. 'O' course ah can fly . . . May ah speak freely?'
'Yeah, speak freely,' I answered. 'Pacman, you can quit growling.'
'Yeh set off a lot of alarms at the office when yeh triggered that gravity shift at the Galactic Deli. Ondy wanted to know if you were okay?'
It was my turn to gape. 'I triggered a gravity what?'
'Yeh being there set off Murga's time nexus, so Ondy knew where it was. Murga must ha' left in a considerable hurry.'
'Uh, that's why he didn't come after me,' I said.
'Who's Ondy?' Miguel asked skeptically. 'And what's a nexus?'
'Agent Onderdonk,' Dunc said, 'mah best friend. He got me this job with the T.A. An' a nexus is a connection between two time points.'
'Murga said Triple Oh was dead,' I blurted.
Dunc bobbed his head. 'Ah heard naught aboot that. Nay, laddie, Ondy is in good health ah can assure yeh.'
What's the T.A?' Miguel asked.
Dunc glanced both ways. 'The Time Agency.'
'Tell me why Murga tried to kidnap me,' I snapped angrily.
'Dinna disturb yehr sporan,' Dunc said. 'He wants to find out how yeh can fly.'
I stared at him dumbfounded. 'I, I can't fly,' I stammered. 'Not without an aircraft . . . and anyway I don't know how to fly one of those either.'
'Well, ah also dinna understand how yeh could fly on account yeh dinna have wings. If yeh had wings, ah could gi' yeh flying lessons. But, tha's what Murga thinks.'
'Time Agency? What is that?' Miguel asked but Dunc was turning away.
'Well, yeh seem to be okay,' Dunc said. 'So I'll be off. Ah have to keep track of Kozak. Ah'll be seeing yeh.'
'Wait!' I snapped. 'You know Kozak? What's he got to do with this?'
'Well, ah think Kozak is just a wee bit upset with Murga just the noo. Murga hired him to track yeh down and, now that he's found yeh, Murga won't let him go back to his own place-time. But ah hafta go, Kozak is just aboot out o' range.'
'Guluk oik,' he honked goodbye and with that he padded down the street and launched himself into the air. Within a minute, with steady flaps of his huge wings, he was gone.
After that I had to tell Miguel everything about the close encounter with Murga and all that had happened to me before I arrived in Ottawa. He seemed impressed. 'This is hard to believe but I can't wait to see Licia face when you tell her about Dunc.'
'She will never believe this?' I sighed.
Miguel grimaced in sympathy. 'Nobody's gonna believe we were interfacing verbally with a spooky goose! Except Licia.' He grinned wickedly. 'She's interested in the paranormal. She'll believe anything.'
'Paranormal? Did Dunc look like a ghost goose, to you?'
'Now you mention it, no,' Miguel admitted.
'You really think I should tell her?'
'Why not?' Miguel grinned. 'She's got more brains than most of us. Maybe she can figure out what's going on.'
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