War of the World Records by Matthew Ward

Author:Matthew Ward
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-11-05T16:00:00+00:00

The Final Day

Arthur sat on his bed, surrounded by blankets and pillows and wooden knife blocks.

The thought of his upcoming event had left him unable to sleep, so he’d decided to get in a few practice runs before the rest of his family had risen. Because he didn’t want to wake anyone, however, he was forced to practice the thunderous, lightning-paced sport of knife-block speed stocking rather gingerly.

“Ahem,” came a hushed voice from the far side of the chamber.

Arthur turned his head toward it. The plump silhouette of Mrs. Waite filled the doorway. In her arms, she held Arthur’s baby sister, Ivy, who, in turn, held her stuffed bear, Mr. Growls. Dressed in the same frilly pink nightgown as his owner, Mr. Growls did not look pleased.

“So sorry to disturb you, Master Arthur,” whispered the housekeeper, “but—er—well, your presence has been requested in the garden.”

“Oh,” Arthur replied. He climbed over his knife blocks and staggered out of bed. As he stretched an arm through the sleeve of his shirt, he asked, “By whom?”

“Shhh,” Ivy whispered, holding her finger to Mr. Growls’ mouth. “It’s a secret. . . .”

Mrs. Waite gave an uneasy smile, then simply motioned Arthur to hurry.

• • •

Arthur followed Ivy and Mrs. Waite through the dim, silent house and out onto the terrace. Swirls of early morning mist revealed the first glimpses of the approaching dawn.

When they had reached the edge of the garden where the grass gave way to forest, the housekeeper halted.

“There,” she said, pointing to one of the larger trees. “Your visitor awaits.”

Arthur gave a quizzical look to the housekeeper, then stepped past her toward the tree in question. When he was within ten feet of the trunk, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness beside it.

“Hiya, Arthur,” said the visitor.

“Oh,” said Arthur, stumbling backward. “It’s you. Ruby.”

“That is my name, yes,” said the girl.

“Right,” said Arthur. “What I meant to say is: it’s good to see you—I mean, to see you and to hear you saying words to me at the same time. Do you know what I mean?”

Ruby paused. “It’s good to see you too.”

“All right,” Mrs. Waite interjected. “I’m glad you two are talking again—but I’d better get back. Mr. Whipple would have me skinned and mounted to the trophy room wall if he found out I’d let a Goldwin onto the estate on the final day of championships.”

“Champ-in-ships!” chirped Ivy.

Mrs. Waite patted Ivy’s head and turned back to Ruby. “He’d only take you for a spy, I’m afraid. Perhaps I should be more wary myself, but something tells me you’re no spy, are you, dear?”

“You needn’t worry about me, ma’am,” Ruby replied. “I’m no fan of the Goldwins either. In fact, I’m very nearly convinced I was adopted, actually—so my surname is really nothing more than a seven-letter lie. I’m only stuck with it until I can find my real family.”

“Oh, my my. You poor thing,” said the housekeeper. “I’m sure they’re not far off, dear. You’re bound to find them soon enough if you just keep looking.

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