Edsel Grizzler by James Roy Page B

think.’
    â€˜In my workshop? What are they doing there?’
    Edsel shrugged.
    â€˜You’re sure that’s where you saw them?’
    â€˜I think so.’
    â€˜Where were they?’
    â€˜Next to the thing,’ Edsel replied.
    â€˜What thing?’
    â€˜You know, the … the thing with the stuff.’ This was going much worse than Edsel had planned. In fact, had he known that he’d have to endure this kind of interrogation, he felt sure that he’d never have tried telling this particular lie to begin with.
    â€˜I’ll go and get them,’ Edsel said. ‘I’ll be back in a second.’
    â€˜You’re not letting him outside again, are you, Barry?’ Mum asked. ‘It’s been a big night already. Is he wearing something warm?’
    â€˜Go on, be quick. And you’re still grounded,’ Dad said, as Edsel pushed the white plug deeper into his pocket and hurried downstairs and out the front door.
    But he didn’t make his way to the workshop at the back of the garage. There was no point since he’d never seen his father’s sunnies out there anyway. Instead, he hurried to the Egg and lifted the dome. It took him barely a couple of seconds to slot the plug into place. Again, just as they had when he’d attached the dome, his fingers tingled.
    â€˜Edsel!’ Dad was calling from the just inside the front door. ‘Have you found them yet?’
    Startled, Edsel spun around. His father was still inside the screen door, a dark shape against the light.
    â€˜No, I couldn’t find them,’ he replied. ‘Weird – I was sure I’d seen them there.’ He bounded up onto the front porch and went inside. ‘Sorry, Dad, I guess I made a mistake.’
    â€˜Oh well, thanks for looking. Go on, upstairs you go. And think about what you did tonight.’
    â€˜Yes, Dad,’ Edsel answered, but he knew that he’d be thinking about a lot more than how badly he’d been treated. Added to the excitement of the Egg, and all the money he’d been making from it, was the new mystery of the white plug in the dash. But it wasn’t all good. There was also the looming horror of tomorrow, and having to face Kenny, Mikey and whatever other kids were in that quadrangle when his parents stomped all over his sense of dignity.
    Yes, he had a lot to think about as he climbed into bed and flicked off his lamp.
    He was drifting into warm, cosy, dozy sleep when he was jerked back to full consciousness by a strange blueish flash of light, bright enough to see through his closed eyelids. He stirred and, getting out of bed, pulled back the curtains to look down into the front yard.
    What he saw made his breath catch in his chest. The Egg still stood in position in the middle of the front yard, but within the dome was a kind of greenish-blue glow, like a very weak neon tube.
    Edsel frowned and rubbed his eyes, and after pulling on his dressing-gown, he slipped silently downstairs. He could hear his parents in the living room. His father had given up on the search for the sunglasses, and having settled down to watch TV, was laughing in an annoying, snorty kind of a way, while his mother tsked away about something one of the actors had just said.
    Grimacing as he eased the front door open, he slipped out onto the front porch, and from there down onto the lawn itself. He approached the Egg slowly. It was still glowing, although the light seemed to be dimming now.
    Holding his breath, Edsel reached out with one hand and touched the outer shell. It was cold, so icy cold that Edsel immediately pulled his hand away. Odd, he thought as he absent-mindedly reached down to pick up the SPACESHIP CLOSED sign, which had fallen over. Even odder, he thought, as he noticed that one leg of the Egg was resting on the edge of the sign, as if the sign had been laid on the lawn and the Egg deliberately placed on top of it.
    Especially odd, he thought