Tin Jimmy - Chapter Three

Port Glasgow Air Raid Shelter

Another bit from a book I'm messing around with. If you haven't already, you can also read Chapter One and Chapter Two.

Megan's Gran has died, leaving her a mysterious map of her home town. Megan and her friend Cam spot the first location on the map during a school visit to a local shipyard to watch some public art being made. When everyone else has gone, Megan and Cam here a strange, angry tapping coming from inside the Phoenix Egg sculpture...

Chapter Three

The lights flickered back on, silencing the tapping instantly. Startled, Megan and Cam turned to see Mr Finn at the doorway, staring.

'Your class are leaving,' he said, 'you had better go and catch them up.'

'Dropped my phone,' said Cam by way of explanation.

'Yes. You should really be more careful.'

Mr Finn stood, waiting for them to leave. Both of them were only too happy to get out.

It took Megan all day to convince Cam that following the map into the old air raid shelter behind the supermarket was a good idea. Probably because it wasn't a good idea. It was a terrible idea. A terrible idea with a very good chance of rats.

'Hah! You aren't scared of rats are you Cam?' she'd said, not even fooling herself.

'No. I'm scared of black death and lymes disease.'

Megan had to google that.

It was pretty scary. So many scabs.

Eventually she gave up trying to convince him and announced she was going alone. That's when he agreed to come. Megan made a mental note to remember that for next time.

The old air raid shelter was a series of interconnected tunnels hollowed out under a cliff. Cam said it ran down underground for miles. It had been built especially for the workers of a nearby munitions factory which had just been turned into very posh flats.

Officially of course, it was now a hazard to health and safety, all blocked off and locked up. Unoffically, you could squeeze in behind the dodgy garages.

Cam was tucking his waterproof trousers into his welly boots for the third time.

'Cam honestly, you're fine.'

'What about leeches?'

'I don't think you get leeches here. Or pirhana.'

'You might. No one's been down here for years. It's an undisturbed ecosystem. Anything could be living there.'

'Velociraptors under Port Glasgow?'

'No. But there's that Big Cat people are always seeing on the hills behind the town.'

'And with miles of moorland to run across, it lives behind a supermarket? An urban puma.'

'Puma, velociraptor, pirhana...if I get eaten, you'll have my mum to deal with.'

Megan was actually a bit scared of Cam's mum - she was a nurse and not really one for nonsense. One time she found out he'd been trading all the fruit in his packed lunch for sherbet and wham bars and he was only allowed to eat raw vegetables and porridge for the rest of the month. That had been a really tough month for everyone.

'Okay? Ready to go?'

Cam nodded glumly.

The two splashed into the darkness. The water was deeper than Megan had thought it would be, and she was starting to wish they hadn't bought their torches in the pound shop.

‘My gran wrote a story about a place like this…maybe the old railway tunnels that people hid in during air raids?’

‘Was it a funny story with a happy ending?’

‘Not really. The end of the tunnel had collapsed as people were running in to shelter, and for years after there were always these wee sad grey figures who would try and get kids to come down and play on the tracks with them. Every so often, someone would go down to play, and they would be found later, people just thought they had been hit by trains or electrocuted on the tracks,  but actually it was because the blitz children had dragged them off into the tunnels with their wee cold hands.’

The dark seemed briefly darker, and colder too.

‘Great story Meg. Thanks for sharing. She was always a right laugh your Gran.’

‘I know a few more…’

‘Do they have clowns in them? Or rats? Because those stories can wait.’

Megan stopped suddenly and gestured for Cam to stop too.

‘Shh. What’s that?’

There was a distant splash which echoes through the empty dark. Then another. And another. The unmistakeable splish splash of something else, walking through the tunnels towards them.

Cam looked around, trying to get his bearings, ‘Which way is that coming from?’ Megan shushed him again.

More splashing, faster now, and nearer.

Cam reached for Megan, taking her hand to run back the way they had come.

‘No it’s coming from that way. Go this way!’

Cam turned his torch towards the nearest junction in the tunnels, two eye beamed eerily back at them, reflecting the faded torchlight. They both screamed as the creature splashed quickly towards them, its startled eyes dancing ever closer through the black. In a moment, the terrified deer had run past them both and back out into the streets above.

Cam was still screaming long after it had gone.

‘Cam? Cam it’s away now. It was just a deer.’

‘Did you see those eyes? It looked evil.’

Cam fumbled through his pockets, finally producing a packet of chewing gum.

‘Evil.’

The two friends stood in silence for a moment.

‘See,’ said Cam, ‘there could be a puma down here.’

‘Maybe that’s why the deer was running,’ said Meg, it was supposed to be a joke, but it was too soon.

‘Can we go yet?’ Cam scowled.

‘Just five more minutes. My gran wanted me to come down here, I’d really like to know why.’

Steadying one another as they went, they wandered through what felt like miles of tunnels, past the rotted bench and bed frames where families must have huddled together as the bombs fell, past the tiny cubicles people used as toilets and down towards the huge machines which stood at the tunnels end.

‘What are these?’

‘Maybe for air conditioning. Or water pumps?’

The torchlight illuminated a face amongst the rust, startled, Megan stumbled back into Cam.

‘Look at this!’

It was a figure, a person, sculpted and built from metal. The head was a near perfect sphere, studded with rivets. Two eyes, large hexagonal bolts, stared vacantly into the shelter and a wide rectangular gap, like a broken letterbox, was the figures mouth. It hung open as if in surprise, or perhaps, silently screaming.

‘Cam, it’s…it looks like a robot.’

In the low light of their pound shop torches, steel still gleamed through all the grease and dirt.

'It looks a bit like one of those new Waterworx statues.' said Cam 'What do you think its doing down here?'

'I've no idea. Looks like it's been here a long time though. This must be what Gran wanted me to find.'

'But how did she know it was here? Did she build it do you think?'

'Doubt it. She couldn't even do lego.'

Cam tapped it gently. At once, the robots eyes flared an angry orange and it grabbed Cam's arm.

'Unnnnnderaaaaaattack. Ehhhhhnnnehmeee.'

'Run!' shouted Cam.

Chapter 4

Tin Jimmy - Chapter Two

Comet Rebuilt 

I've been really rubbish at doing the blog this year, been busy doing other stuff. However, I did get a right positive response for the first chapter of a book I posted in January. So here's a draft of Chapter Two. You can still read the first chapter here.

So far...Megan's grandmother has exploded on holiday, leaving Megan a mysterious package and letter. The letter reveals that Gran knew the secret Megan has been hiding for months...she can fly...

Chapter Two

It was true. Megan could fly. Properly fly. Out of windows and up through clouds.

It had started happening about 3 months ago – she had woken up with her nose squashed almost flat against her ceiling.

At first she thought there must have been an earthquake, there had been a few rumblings and tremors earlier in the year, but then she realised everything else was still where it was supposed to be. Only she had moved. Megan spent a few moments not falling, and gently moving about by pushing her hands across the ceiling. Then she pushed away, floating horizontal and happy in the middle of her room.

The best bit, the strangest bit, was how it all seemed so easy to work out, how good she got at it so quickly, like it was something she had always known how to do - not at all like riding a bike. Megan had dented 3 cars, knocked over a shed and broken a leg learning to ride a bike. It wasn't even her own leg. Poor wee Mr Graham had been really understanding about that.

Megan continued reading her Gran's beautiful old fashioned handwriting

I really want to be able to explain it all to you, but if you are reading this, it's because they finally caught up with me. I can't risk writing it all down. But Megan I need you to find out for yourself. Follow the map. Then you'll know what you have to do. All my love sweetheart. Fly safe.

That was it.

Next, Megan carefully unfolded the map, laying it out on her bed. Greenock, Port Glasgow and Gourock and Surrounding Environs 1953 Ordnance Survey. Megan stared at the map, at street names and places she did not recognise, avenues and parkland from long ago. There were five red circles on the map, each one of them numbered. None of them in any places that she knew.

'Right. Gran wanted me to go to these places,' thought Megan, 'so maybe she's left things there for me to find. Maybe more letters.'

The letter and the map made some sort of sense to Megan, but the newspaper page was a complete mystery. There was a story about new schools being built, an advert for Golden Syrup and a big photo of a ship launch from the yards. She folded it back up and put it with the letter in her China print keepsake box in the space under her bedside cabinet. The map she put in her schoolbag.

'So. My dead Gran knows why I can fly, she was trying to get away from someone, and she's left me a treasure map.'

Excited, she did her best to fall asleep, because unfortunately, none of those things were going to stop her having to go back to school tomorrow.

A pale thin man in a suit stood at the front of the class beside Miss McCue. He was completely bald, in that really shiny way, and the fact that you could see his whole head meant you could see how bumpy it was.

'Maybe he's got a really big brain or something.' said Cameron, not even all that quietly.

Cameron was Megan's best friend, they sat together in most classes and had done since Primary 3. Even then he was the tallest in class. He pretended he wasn't though, always hunching up or curling in on himself, like some massive spindly legged spider constantly trying to hide under the nearest rock. Except there were no rocks big enough. Sometimes though, when he said rude things far too loudly in class, Megan really wished there were.

Miss McCue looked at Cameron, very briefly, before beaming her award winning smile across the class.

‘Well class, today we have a real treat for you. Mr Finn is here from Waterworx, the people who are building all the new offices, shops and houses at the riverside.’

Miss McCue was used to the awkward disinterested silence which followed the news of a ‘special treat’ which clearly wasn’t all that special, so she bravely soldiered on.

‘Waterworx are also making lots of new sculptures and statues to brighten up the town, and they have come along today because they want us to help.’

Cameron had his hand up, always a potential pitfall when a visitor came.

‘Yes Cameron,’ said Miss McCue, trying very hard to send Cameron a telepathic message along the lines of, ‘Best behaviour. Please remember how upset that fireman got last time’.

‘Are they going to pay us to help?’ asked Cameron.

Miss McCue did her best charming laugh. ‘No Cam, we’re helping design a statue because we’ll all learn something and it will be good fun.’

Cameron had his hand up again, even though Megan had just elbowed him.

‘Yes Cameron,’ smiled Miss McCue, very seriously.

‘It says in the paper Waterworx have millions and millions of pounds.’

Miss McCue smiled nervously at Mr Finn, who thankfully seemed to be taking it all in his stride.

‘That’s actually true Cameron,’ said Mr Finn, ‘but most of it is to spend on new buildings, I tell you what though, I’ll do you all a deal. You all want to make a deal?’

The class perked up a bit, instantly more interested now there was a potential opportunity for gambling and free stuff.

‘This is an old building you have here. Your head teacher was telling me you have a very leaky roof…is that right?’

Stacey's hand went up this time.

‘Yes.’

‘There was a big bulge in the ceiling in French class and it burst and all this water poured out onto Steven Barclay and there were drowned pigeons in it.’

Everyone laughed.

‘Dear me. Well, if you help us with a new sculpture, we’ll make sure your leaky roof is no longer a problem. How does that sound?’

Miss McCue could tell they were unimpressed, and hoped Mr Finn had something other than that up his sleeve.

‘And of course the person with the winning design will get a new playstation.’

Result.

‘Okay everyone,’ said Miss McCue, ‘I think we all agree that sounds like an excellent opportunity, so now Mr Finn is going to take us to see one of the new sculptures being built at the shipyard in Port Glasgow. Yes Cameron.’

‘How much are we allowed to make our sculpture cost? Can ours be made out of platinum?'

'No.' said Miss McCue, ‘In twos, downstairs to the bus.’

Megan and Cam sat in the middle of the bus, far enough away from the snogging at the back, but not near enough the front to be involved in rehearsing songs from the school show. It was the first time they had properly talked since Megan’s Gran died.

‘She left me a letter.’

‘That’s nice. My gran left us lots of out of date catfood and an old handbag full of fivers and raffle tickets.’

‘It had a map with it,’ explained Megan.

‘I got fifty quid and bought a new game,’ said Cam, drifting off.

‘Cam are you even listening?’

‘A map. Your gran gave you a map.’

‘Yes. A map of round here. It’s marked with numbers. I think she wanted me to find something.’

‘What? Treasure you mean?’

‘I don’t think so. She already left us quite a bit of money. This is something else, just for me.’

‘Right.’

‘And I want you to help me find it.’

Megan saw a smile flicker briefly across Cameron’s face. Right now, she wasn't totally sure how she was going to get Cam to help her find the secret of why she could fly without actually telling him she could fly, but she knew she wanted someone with her she could trust.

‘Let’s see it then,’ said Cameron.

Megan took the map out of her bag and unfolded it, ‘Careful though. It’s a bit old and damp.’

Cameron peered at the map. ‘This is like the street maps you can still get in the newsagent. It’s just from years ago.’

‘There’s five places she’s put a circle at. The first one is in Port Glasgow.’ Megan pointed to the tiny red circle numbered "1".

'Do they join up into a mysterious symbol?' asked Cam, who had read the Da Vinci Code.

'Nope. Not even a pentagon. They're all over the place.'

Cam traced his long fingers across the streets. ‘Some of these places aren’t there anymore.’

‘But I bet you know where to find them?’

‘Maybe. I’m pretty sure that one is the old hospital, and that’s the entrance to the railway tunnel – that track doesn’t get used now either.’

Megan smiled, ‘See. I knew you’d be able to do it. What’s number one?’

‘Behind the new flats in the ropeworks? It’s just a supermarket I think. Wait…’

Cam took out his phone. ‘Map app,’ he explained and started tapping and swiping.

The coach pulled up outside the shipyard

'Right. I've added the other four as locations as well, got them all. Number one is the hill behind the supermarket. It's an old bomb shelter apparently. Just over there.'

Megan grinned.

'No,' said Cam, 'absolutely not. We're here to appreciate some rubbish art, I was grounded for a month after we got caught skidging last time.'

'But how good were those monster trucks?'

Miss McCue shuffled everyone off the bus and Mr Finn led them into a big warehouse. There were bits of scaffolding and old boats in the far corner, random traffic cones were scattered around, presumably warning the unwary against some unseen health and safety issue. In the centre of the floor, there was an enormous metal egg. Mr Finn was pointing at it, looking very proud.

‘This sculpture is called Phoenix Egg. It’s going in the new town square,’ said Mr Finn, ‘Can anyone guess why we've chosen the name Phoenix Egg?'

'Do you really like eggs?' asked Scott Malcolm.

'I do really like eggs,' said Mr Finn, 'but that's not the reason.'

'Could you just not think of anything better?' asked Cam, pretending not to understand symbolism.

Mr Finn was a very quick learner, and so was already ignoring Cam, ‘The phoenix is a very symbolic bird. The sculpture represents rebirth and the new future for the town.' said Mr Finn, 'Because a Phoenix rises from the ashes and ruins to live again.’

Mr Finn paused dramatically, as if he was waiting for a round of applause.

‘Our town isn’t in ruins. Or on fire.’ said Megan.

‘No,’ smiled Mr Finn, ‘of course it isn’t. Shall we take a closer look at the sculpture?'

Cam took out his phone.

'Sorry,' said Mr Finn, 'no photos yet. We don't want to spoil the surprise for everyone.'

The class quickly wandered around the sculpture not touching, and off towards the other sheds. Megan and Cam, slipped outside.

Megan peered through the drizzle. There was a steep slope behind the supermarket, entirely covered in untidy bushes and trees.

'Is that it over there?'

'Think so. I'll check the phone to be sure.'

Cam rifled through his pockets.

‘Not here. I must have dropped it back in the shed.'

Down by the riverside, the rest of the class trooped past a large ship in for repairs, Miss McCue and Mr Finn out in front.

'Come on then,' said Megan.

The lights were now out in the shed.

'Here it is,' said Cam, 'must have dropped it when he tried to censor me.'

'Shh!' said Megan, 'What's that?'

'What's what?'

There was a tapping and hissing from inside the egg, and between tiny gaps in the riveted plates, a red glow, more obvious now in the darkness. It was as if there was something inside the metal egg, waiting to come out.

Chapter Three

Tin Jimmy - Chapter One

I'm not going to spend the year blognovelling at ye, tried that once, got fed up. But this is the nth draft of a first chapter from a childrens story I've now written quite a few wee bits of. Not enough to call it a book or anything, still footering away. Its my resolution this year to finish it. So I thought sharing the start here at the start of the year, would be a good way to make that more of a real commitment... 

There was something strange about the way Megan's gran had exploded. It wasn't that she was on holiday at the time, it wasn't that it was really unlucky because she had won the holiday in a competition, it wasn't even that she was waterskiing. No. It was that before exploding on faulty water skis on her unexpected holiday, she had not phoned Megan when she said she would. Gran always phoned. Always.

Megan's mum suggested that was "maybe because of all the sangria", but still, it didn't feel right. None of it felt right. Everyone made a sad understanding face when Megan said this, so she decided to stop talking about it.

Now, weeks later, she sat on her bed, holding a letter her gran had left for her. Megan brushed her dark curls out of her eyes and stared at the envelope some more. Not quite ready to open it yet.

The week that followed the explosion was very strange. Exploding on holiday is clearly quite an inconvenient thing to do; serious black suited people kept turning up at the house with forms for Mum and Dad to fill in. Newspapers and a television crew wanted to speak to them as well, because it was such a "tragic" and "unusual" story. Megan was pretty sure her gran would have been delighted to be tragic and unusual.

Then they started getting the letters. Lots of people still remembered Megan's Gran from when she wrote scary books, and sent them emails or cards or flowers to say how sad they were, some even sent little cuddly knitted toys of her monsters. Mum really didn't know what to do with those, even though they were woollen, some of them were still pretty terrifying. Gorskyn had always been Megan's favourite creature, so she took one of those ones to keep in her room, its little tentacles had tassles on the end.

She and her brother Lewis had not been allowed to go to the funeral, because dad said it would be, "too sad", which Megan sort of thought was the point. Even clown funerals must be sad. There were no sad understanding faces when she said this though. She was pretty sure Mum quietly phoned the doctor.

Instead, while everyone else went up to the hillside cemetery, Megan and Lewis had gone to the cafe in Gourock with an elderly aunt, Grans's cousin. Lewis got an ice cream and Megan got a cappuccino just for the foam and sprinkles.

Outside, the river splashed gently against the pierhead, there was not a cloud in the sky. 'It should be stormy on a day like this,' thought Megan, 'there should be lightning and trees blowing over. Not sunshine and ice cream.' The sun just carried on shining regardless.

To take her mind off the fact that she wasn't getting to say goodbye to Gran properly, Megan tried to talk to the elderly aunt about her, but elderly aunt just wrinkled her already wrinkly nose, so that it ended up looking like a walnut, and said 'Best not. Lovely lady. But a strange one. All that sad business when she was wee.' Megan made a mental note to send her a cuddly monster and continued staring out the window onto the river. Seagulls dipped and dived in the breeze. Elderly aunt bought them some strawberry tarts, and then they went home.

Almost dark enough now. Megan stared at the envelope. It was from the stationary set she had made Gran for Christmas last year. It had taken ages, but everything had been handmade, from the paper to the little wooden box it all came in. The letter smelled of Gran's perfume.

Megan thought again about the last time she saw her Gran. It was the day before she went on holiday. Gran had suggested they go for a walk round the dam to feed the swans. Megan had thought she seemed a bit sad for someone who had won a free holiday, but had just assumed it was one of those strange grown up things.

'It's a shame you didn't win another ticket. I could have come with you.' she said.

'Och it'll be all bingo and karaoke, not your type of thing at all.' smiled Gran.

'You don't play bingo.' said Megan.

'There's usually nothing else to do on these old people holidays. I'm taking my nintendo.'

There were baby swans this year, and they fed them some of Gran's fairy cakes.

'Are you okay?' asked Megan eventually.

'Hmm? Ach fine. Whenever I'm stuck, I come and have a bit of a sit in the park.'

'When do you get stuck?' asked Megan, 'You always know what to do.'

Megan's Gran smiled quietly for a moment, watching the family of swans flapping happily across the dam, dancing in the last of the summer sunshine.

'Do you remember when I used to read you the ugly duckling?' said Gran.

Megan nodded, hoping this wasn't her Gran's attempt to start talking about growing up.

'You always did a funny duck voice.' said Megan.

'Well...it's a load of rubbish. No such thing as ugly ducklings. People spend years waiting to be beautiful swans. What a waste of time. Just be a beautiful duck and get on with it.' Gran turned and grinned at Megan, then steadied herself with her walking stick. 'Come on, you can help me finish packing.'

Megan had wanted to tell Gran her secret that day, she knew she would understand, know what to do. Instead, she walked her home, stayed for tea and spent the evening discussing who the best looking vampires were.

'I'll phone you 6 o'clock tomorrow night, once I've had a chance to check out the handsome barmen.' said Gran with a cheeky wink.

Megan laughed, kissed her goodnight and went home.

It was too late to tell her now. All too late.

It was yesterday that dad had taken her to the lawyers office to get the letter. Her letter. Mum and dad had already been to see the lawyer about Gran's will - she had left them a bit of money, not millions of pounds or anything - any money Gran had made, she enjoyed spending while she was still alive, taking them all on holidays or out for dinner and laserquest. Gran always cheated at laserquest. But there was still some there. Enough for them not to worry for awhile. The most important thing though, was her Grans final instruction, that a letter be personally handed to Megan, that no one else was to open or read. The letter was waiting for her at the lawyers office.

The office was not far from the town centre, in one of the bits that was being rebuilt, or demolished. It was sometimes hard to tell the difference, the whole town seemed to be scaffolded, like it was being held up in case it fell over.

Megan was hoping the lawyers office would be all wood panels and old green leather chairs, but it looked a bit more like an opticians, all shiny glass and chrome.

'Your grandmother lodged the letter with us 6 months ago,' said the Lawyer. 'It has been in the safe since then. A few weeks ago, she visited us to give us two further instructions. First, she made it very clear to us that we are to advise that you open the letter alone.'

Megan nodded.

'Secondly, she asked that you return here next year, with the contents of the letter on the 23rd May. Is that clear?'

'That's her birthday.' said Dad.

'Those were the instructions. Can you do that Megan?'

Megan nodded again, feeling suddenly very grown up and serious.

The Lawyer handed her the letter and, surprised by her own shaking hands, Megan took it and put it inside her jacket pocket, holding it carefully, as if it were full of diamonds and gunpowder.

Mum had been really nosey about it, wanting to know what it said, and Dad had told her that if it was a cheque she had to tell them about it. It was Megan's letter though, and she insisted on waiting until everyone else was in bed before opening it. Alone. Just like Gran had asked.

She pulled gently at the envelope, trying to take her time over it. Inside, was a very small piece of paper, some of the vellum parchment Megan had made by flattening out wood pulp.

'There can't be much written on that.' thought Megan, just a little disappointed.

There were two other items in the envelope; a piece of old newspaper and one of those foldout street maps of the town. For now though, Megan was only interested in her letter. Sure enough, it was very short, but the first line said almost everything Megan hoped it would.

'Dear Megan, I know why you can fly.'

Chapter Two...