6: Now THEY Know

DUN DUN DUN…

His mother, at work most likely, was nowhere to be seen. The interior of the house lay in wreckage. Nothing appeared to be stolen – Logan knew it wasn’t, because the article that the ran-sackers were looking for was in his backpack. Logan ran up to his room.

His bed was in shreds. The covers had been mauled, and pieces of the mattress covered the floor. Pieces of paper, odd wooden bits of his desk, crinkled under Logan’s feet.

Had he honestly thought it was over? No, Logan quipped, trying to defend himself – after all, it wasn’t his fault. But, he though again, I’d practically passed the danger. It had been quiet for so long… And now… Now they know.

The first real cold dread and fear clutched at Logan’s heart. He was stalk still, like a deer in the headlights. He had assumed there was no danger left when he saw the ruins of what used to be the inside of his house when he stepped in after school; what if the intruders were still in here, hiding? Heart pounding like a gong, Logan ran out of his room and jumped down the stairs, and fell with a sickening crash onto the floor, right on his Pitchy-Clarinet. He’d cracked part of it, but it was evident enough to see that it had been mutilated already.

He flew out the door and down the street. Where would he go? Obviously not back to school. He’d never been to Flo P’s house, but he knew where it was after walking past it with the gang on the way back from the café. He ran all the way there.

Despite his fear, Logan nervously rang the doorbell. There was a faint ‘bing’, then the sound of feet pounding down the stairs.

Flo P opened the door. “Logan!” she said. “Do you… er… need anything?”

Logan asked nervously: “Can I come in? It’s got to do with the you-know-what.” He stepped over the threshold and Flo P closed the door behind him. From upstairs, a voice yelled,

“That’s not Logan, is it?” Ji-Ji bumped down the stairs on her behind, closely followed by Saraha, who pretended to vomit behind Ji-Ji.

“I need to talk to you,” Logan almost sobbed. Flo P looked at him, heavily concerned, and even Saraha had to listen. “It’s about the Walrus Document – they know I have it. I got home, and my house was in ruins; I have it here, but… but… But what do I do now?”

Flo P put her arms around him, and Ji-Ji handed him a tissue.

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” asked Saraha, rolling her eyes. We have to go away. Run away. We can’t let them get it.”

Logan looked up. The fact was: he wasn’t scared to run away. Fine, he WAS, but that wasn’t what was bothering him. What if they got killed? What if they got lost? What would happen if someone found out they’d gone? And worst of all, what would happen to Flo P?

Saraha stomped her foot. “You’re SUCH scardy cats. Didn’t you realise this from the beginning?”

Ji-Ji nodded her agreement. “Yeah. What else are we going to do? C’mon, we have to get ready NOW.” She immediately fell into her director-role. “We’ll leave tonight – not too late, not too early – but giving us enough time to catch a train and be safely in or on our way to Andersbad by morning. When the does latest train leave – 12:00 am? How about eleven-thirty at Logan’s treehouse? That gives us thirty minutes to walk to the station.

“Next, bring a rucksack of stuff. Maybe wear a short-sleeve shirt and a sweater, with a jacket, and pack a long-sleeve shirt? Also, wear a pair of thick pants and then pack another pair, along with some thick socks.”

“Oh, and sturdy shoes to walk in!” added Flo P. Her eyes were set and hardened.

Logan almost laughed at himself internally. What a fool he’d been! They may have looked like random girls, but he found himself looking at them like goddesses.

Logan decided: it was his fault he’d brought them in: he’d take more control. He had to shed his timid skin. It was time for Logan the Brave to dominate! He said, “Don’t forget, a good Evan-branded water bottle is key, lots of money, keys, and anything else that might come in handy, like non-perishable food items. Cans of soup, beans, nuts, and dried fruit.”

“Like a knife of some kind. A Freedom’s Army Knife, many if you can, and maybe one of those heavy-duty ones that fathers keep in the garage, if it comes down to heavy fighting,” Saraha said boisterously.

Logan furrowed his brow. “There we go, then. 11:30 pm, my treehouse. See you there.”

5: The Fifth Instalment

Logan had decided to hide the Walrus Document in his house, in his schoolbooks. Nobody would ever think of looking in his schoolbooks, Logan reckoned. Flo P, Saraha and Ji-Ji hadn’t been over since they’d found it… Logan found himself pining for interaction with them. They, after all, were the only friends he’d ever had.

Suddenly, the phone rang, and jerked him from his sad stupor. “Hello?” his mother asked downstairs. “Yes, yes, oh, hello! One moment, Flo P, I’ll just give you to Logan.”

Logan felt his heart beating, almost as much as when Commander Brack had confronted him, but it was a lot more alive, like hot chocolate was pumping in his veins. He grabbed the phone, and was so nervous he squeaked, “HELLO!”

“Oh, hi, Logan!” Logan marveled at how smooth she was – he was so nervous his hands were shaking, and he almost dropped the phone. “I was wondering if we could get together and talk about ‘the whale-fish pages.’”

“Yes, of course,” Logan said, his voice squeaking again. He felt like he was a door that needed oil on its hinges.

In the background, he heard a loud voice yell, “I FEEL LIKE SUCH A GOOSEGOG! I WILL NOW GO TO THE BATHROOM SO YOU CAN ROMANTICALLY ASK TO SNOG LOGAN ON A PRE-ARRANGED TIME PERIOD. Saraha audibly stomped off. Logan could almost feel her grinning, and he felt himself blush.

“Sorry about Saraha, the big chump,” Flo P said. “I was saying – I think we should discuss it. What do you think? I don’t want to sound paranoid, as I’ve found myself becoming lately…” She paused, thinking, then said: “But I think it should be in a normal environment, so it doesn’t attract attention.”

“GOOD IDEA!” said Logan, then carefully lowered his squeak and volume. “How about we meet at the café tomorrow at 3 o’clock?”

“Sure thing!” said Flo P.

“HEY, YOU PRE-ASSEMBLED SNOGGERS, JI-JI’S HERE!” boomed a voice in the background. “SHALL I LET HER IN? NAH, SHE’S TOO MUCH OF A BARNACLE.”

“Sorry, Logan! I have to control my friend – she’s eaten too much raw sugar!” said Flo P, and abruptly hung up.

Logan felt shivers run up his spine. He’d just had a phone conversation with a girl, and for his standards, it had gone quite normally. Now there was something for the books!

Later, the four friends met up at the local café. The problem was, Logan was too scared to read the Walrus Document, and besides being chicken, he also felt as if it was going to bring bad things.

“Hello, all,” said Saraha, last as usual. She went to the counter and ordered a hot chocolate, the came back to the table, where her friends were chatting idly. “The problem is,” Saraha said, bringing them back to the pressing issue, “we don’t know what that Document is, but that’s because Logan’s too scared. Although, I do agree with him.”

Flo P gaped.

Saraha narrowed her eyes. “Why are you so surprised? We could be tortured for information or something, and then it’d be all Logan’s fault. If that’s not overly melodramatic. ANYWAY, I think we should get ready. Nothing may happen, but I just know it will.”

“Get ready?” asked Ji-Ji.

Logan spoke up. “You know, pack.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What if we have to leave? What if they try to get at it?”

Flo P looked alarmed, Ji-Ji looked like she was planning already, but Saraha and Logan looked like they had expected it all along, though Saraha looked slightly disgusted by this.

“I can’t believe it’s come to this. Don’t you think we’re overreacting?” asked Flo P.

“No, it is entirely thought out. I have been brooding on it for days,” Logan confessed. “It is the only way.” He nodded, grabbed his mug, and took a heart swig, banging it back down on the table. It was settled.

4: The Lunk Tree

The next installment of ‘The Creativity of Logan Manchester’! And ha, ha, ha, I’ve just figured out how it’s going to end. Hang on and find out, or I’ll be away laughing on a fast camel.

The next day, the four met up at the local café to go over to Logan’s. Saraha was still angry that the ‘crap document’, as she had insisted on calling it, had wrecked her flute. The tree house was going to be searched thoroughly for any inkling of where this sketchy report could be.

They walked over to Logan’s house, on 28 Elm Lane, and promptly went into the backyard. The tree house was small, and for Ji-Ji, Saraha, Flo P and Logan, it was a tight squeeze. To search it was harder, so they agreed that they should search in shifts. Because Logan knew the tree house best, he went first, but nothing was found.

Saraha rolled her eyes; “We’re going off on a whim – nobody knows where the crap document is, and never will. Your father was humoring you, face it, Logan.”

Flo P who had taken up to standing up for Logan, who couldn’t for himself, said, “Of course it’s in here, Saraha – don’t be so mean. Can’t you see what Logan’s going through?”

“No, I can’t,” she grumbled, and watched Flo P climb the ladder for her fifteen-mintue shift.

Alas, nobody found anything. The problem was – there was not much area to search. They tried looking down cracks and under the windowsills and under the shingles on the roof, but this yielded nothing, at least until it was Ji-Ji’s turn. Instead of searching, she sat in thought.

“Alright,” said Ji-Ji’s soft voice from the tree house. It was situated in a large Lunk Tree, the most common type of tree in the town, and it was very, very old, and very, very big. “There’s a way to do this. We know where we’ve searched, and that’s all the obvious places. I think I should try the unobvious places. Where would be an unobvious place? The tree itself…”

“But that’s not the tree house. Mr. Manchester specifically said the tree house,” called up Flo P.

But Ji-Ji wasn’t talking to them, she had been talking to herself. They could still hear her in the growing darkness.

“I’ll go get a flashlight,” whispered Logan, and scurried off.

Ji-Ji’s voice was still talking. “…Then the only other place could be the floorboards. In the floorboards? That’s a place.” Ji-Ji began knocking around. Finally, the knocks stopped, and Ji-Ji said to her friends, and Logan, now returned with the flashlight, “I may have found it! Run; get a hammer and a crowbar or whatever plies off wood! Oh – and a saw!”

Logan ran off to find the tools, and Saraha and Flo P stuck their heads in the tree house to see what Ji-Ji had found. Ji-Ji was triumphantly pointing to a board.

When Logan got back, the crew hammered and pulled and wrenched at the board, until it finally sprang loose (though this took an inordinate amount of time, as Logan was very inept at using tools).

They had just managed to get it off and bring the small board down to saw it in half when Mrs. Manchester came out. “Logan!” she said, surprised, as he had brought friends home for the first time in his life. “Now who are you three?”

“I’m Flo P,” said Flo P. “And this is Saraha – ” she indicated to Saraha “ – and Ji-Ji – ” she indicated to Ji-Ji.

“Hello, Mrs. Manchester! I’m pleased to meet you! I’m the director of Tongues of Acid,” Ji-Ji said, leaping to her feet.

Mrs. Manchster looked pleased with Logan’s friends, after Ji-Ji’s usual overly enthusiastic greeting. “Can I get some dinner for you?” she asked.

“I have to go home, soon,” said Saraha. “But thank you.”

“Us as well,” Flo P said.

“I hope to see you around,” said Mrs. Manchester, and went inside the house.

“Alright,” said Saraha, back to her brisk manner. “I do have to go home soon, it’s not like I didn’t want to eat your gross food, Logan, so let’s continue. I’ll saw.” She grabbed the saw and began to saw the board in half, and they saw Ji-Ji had been right; it was hollow.

Finally, when it was done, Saraha took a rolled yellow envelope, the size of an ordinary large yellow envelope in which you keep important documents. She handed it to Logan.

Logan unrolled it, and undid the clasp at the top. He reached in and pulled out a thin booklet of light-blue colour. On the front was labeled the words, ‘The Walrus Operation.’

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR MORE LOGAN MADNESS… 

3: Logan Delivers the Truth

This is my third chapter. I’m not really dedicating it to anyone this time, but I just forgot to say in the beginning that every chapter really is dedicated to Logan, because he’s the whole reason this book is able to exist. Thank you, West-Band Logan, if you ever read this!

It was band practice again. A week had elapsed, and still Logan Manchester was confused. What had the men wanted, exactly? Logan knew who the Walrus was – he though he knew, anyway. He wanted to go to Tongues of Acid to be with his (so-called) friends one last time (even though everyone could easily agree that he was only the uncomfortable Pitchy-Clarinet player in the background) and then he wouldn’t put anyone in danger, even Saraha.

One may say Logan was being gallant, but Logan was not a gallant person. You see, pixies cannot be gallant. He was merely wanted to keep anyone from harming Saraha, because the lanky pixie knew that if Flo P were to be threatened, Ji-Ji and Saraha would step in harm’s way to protect their friend.

Ji-Ji began the band meeting by calling everyone to order. “Please settle down!” she cried. “I know we’ve all be shaken,” she said to the attentive room. “And we can’t find out who they were – the police said nothing – they refused to speak of them, actually. That strengthens my hunch that they may have been from the government, or somewhere official, working for the country.

“What they want, we still don’t know, but it seems like they were wrong. Commander Brack must have made a mistake, and gone off on some sort of far-fetched idea that one of us knew something. But I don’t want to that to get in the way of our music. So, in that case, please take out your James Blunt and let’s begin…” Ji-Ji finished her announcement. Logan assembled his Pitchy-Clarinet, and the rehearsal began.

At the end, Logan approached Ji-Ji. He said quietly, in his usual manner, “I need to quit the band.”

She stopped drinking and looked up. “Why’s that?” asked Ji-Ji, concerned.

“I have – I have family issues,” he said.

However, Ji-Ji still looked suspicious. “It doesn’t have anything to do with those men, does it, Logan? If that’s the reason, honestly, don’t think it’s connected to you.”

“Psh, no, no, that’s not it,” Logan said, attempting to be nonchalant, but pixies can’t pass things away by being nonchalant, so Logan stopped. “It’s just… I don’t want to talk about it,” he lied.

“Alright, but we’ll be sad to see you go. Goodbye then, Logan.”

Logan nodded, and took one last look to the music room, then walked lankily out. However, as he marched home, a terrible idea struck him. What if Commander Brack eventually found out that he was connected to the Walrus, and he tortured Flo P in the process to get information about him? This was the last straw. Logan decided: he was going to tell Flo P everything.

Logan turned around and ran back. He dropped his Pitchy-Clarinet by the entrance, and scrambled into the music room where Flo P, Andrew, another Screech player, Saraha, and Ji-Ji were all clearing away the stands and packing up.

Andrew, Saraha and Flo P looked surprised to see him, but Ji-Ji smirked as if she’s expected it all along and gave him a knowing look. “I need to talk to you, Flo P, and Ji-Ji and Saraha too, if you want,” Logan said urgently. They went out into the hall, Andrew looking upset, as he was not being included.

“Look,” Logan said in a straight forward manner, most unlike him. “When you said that the men weren’t look for me last week, you were wrong. They were right. I do know who the Walrus is – or I think so, at least. And it’s not fair if I leave now, because then they’ll come looking for you when I leave, and they will find me eventually.

“Anyway, the Walrus is my father. Well, part of the Walrus is, anyway. I really don’t know much, but I’m almost certain I’m correct. My father was named Walter Manchester. He worked for a secret lab. I remember before he left he was working on a project, and the file was on his desk once while he had gone to the bathroom. It was labeled, ‘The Walrus Operation.’”

Saraha and Ji-Ji and Flo P looked astonished.

“Are you fooling me? You’re sure you’re not… pulling my leg or something?” Saraha asked. “So, in the end… They broke my flute because of some crap document!”

Flo P gave her friend a piercing look. “Do you know what the document’s about, Logan? Do you know where it is, too?” asked Flo P.

“No. Though I have one idea. I knew it was top-secret, though, and I’m pretty sure the government wasn’t behind it. Before he left, my dad told me that if I was ever bothered or there was a crisis, I should look in my tree house, and give the secret up. He said no more. I don’t know if it’s connected, but I’ll check; it’s worth a shot.”

THE PROBLEM GROWS… WHAT IS ‘THE WALRUS OPERATION’? THIS TIME NEXT WEEK, “THE LUNK TREE”!

2: The Walrus

Anyway, here comes the first REAL chapter, or at least the first kind of long one. Okay, then, this chapter is dedicated to Ji-Ji – the ORIGINAL Ji-Ji – who DOES have raven black, silky hair, despite her protests.

Logan was brushing his messy, mousy hair. He looked in the mirror and sighed. “Flo P, today I may see thee,” he said to himself. He picked himself up, and went downstairs to get his Pitchy-Clarinet and sheet music. Then he got in the car, and Mrs. Manchester drove him to his Tongues of Acid band.

When he got there, he searched for Flo P, without making it seem obvious. But there she was, in all her shining glory, and his eyes feasted on her like maggots feasting on a dying cow.

“Attention everyone!” Ji-Ji called from the front of the hall. “Please get into your seats – we’re starting our first new piece…” As Ji-Ji talked away about key signatures and tuning, Logan was seized by a strange feeling.

“STOP!” he cried violently. “I mean, stop!” he said, quelling back into his usual awkward self.

“Yes, Logan? Is there something you’d like to say?” Ji-Ji prompted in a motherly way.

Logan stood, and walked to the podium. He could feel all eyes on him, and a shy voice at the back of his head said, ‘No, Logan, don’t do it!’ But it was trumped by another voice, far stronger, booming, ‘Do it for Flo P! Claim her for your own, or all the others will flock to her!’

“I would like to speak,” said Logan. He gathered his thoughts, and looked round the room, where he finally locked eyes with Flo P. She was looking admiringly up at him.

“I didn’t know how to express myself before,” said Logan, staring into Flo P’s eyes. “And I wanted to say this before I lose the only girl I… well, who I –”

But that was all cut off when the glass bay windows of the music room shattered, and bullets sprayed the room. Twenty or so black-dressed men stormed in. They trained their guns on movement, while all the kids ducked under their fallen stands and chairs. Glass and music sheets littered the floor.

“Where is he?” shouted one of the men. “WHERE IS THE WALRUS?”

Logan looked up, surprised, and desperate to get to Flo P to see if she was all right, but then he attention was taken from that when he saw a gun barrel inches from his nose. “What’s your name, son?” said the man holding the gun menacingly.

“Lo – Logan,” he said.

“Logan what?”

Logan couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think because his brain was screaming for him to run and duck, and he could feel the blood pumping in his ears. There was something wet trickling down from his scalp, where he knew glass shards must have landed. A petrified voice came across the room:

“His name is Logan Pratz, and leave him alone!” she lied. Flo P was standing up defiantly, quivering from shock and fright, but she still glared at the man. “And may I ask what your name is?”

The man laughed a terrible, cold laugh. “I’m Commander Brack. These are my men. Now, let me ask again – WHERE IS THE WALRUS?” He stared at Flo P, and then turned to Logan. “I have a feeling you know.”

“I don’t know who the Walrus is.” Logan tried to sound rebellious, too. He tried to keep his voice steady, and not to wipe away the blood that was still trickling down and tickling his forehead. He forced himself to look into Commander Brack’s eyes.

They were steely, like cold iron, and glared down at Logan. Just by looking at him, with his receding grey hairline and tall, rippling body, he could feel this man was full of hate. But he drowned these thoughts.

“Please, sir, we don’t know what you’re talking about!” said Ji-Ji, who had bravely spoken up. “We’re just kids – this is a band we’ve created – I’m the director of it, and I don’t know anything about Walruses.”

Commander Brack gave Ji-Ji a withering look. “Very well then,” he said. “But I’ll be keeping my eyes on you kids, and don’t you forget it. ONE of you is hiding something, and I will find out and track you down if it’s the LAST THING I DO! TROOPS, OUT!” he said.

The men turned and duck-marched out, their guns hanging at their sides. The blood in Logan’s ears was pumping even harder after his narrow escape. He heard several people breathing slowly, and someone whistled through their teeth.

“No!” cried Saraha. “My Uteflay – it’s broken! Oh, damn them! How much will I have to spend to buy another? And this one was so expensive.” She turned to Ji-Ji. “Is your Screech broken? I can’t believe this. I wonder who they were.”

Logan’s eyes met Flo P’s. He looked at her sadly, but knew he could not go on making his announcement. It was too close. He had to get home, and think. If he wanted to spare Flo P from the strange men, he had to never talk to her again. Not now… Not yet…

WHO IS THE WALRUS? WHO IS COMMANDER BRACK? FIND OUT NEXT WEEK IN, “LOGAN DELIVERS THE TRUTH”!