Lionboy Part 9

That evening, as the mad activity of restocking a boat with so many people and animals on board began to wind down, Charlie joined Maccomo in the dining room and drank hot chocolate with him, being friendly and listening to tales of the lion trainers of old. He made a point of thanking Major Thibaudet for taking him on board and giving him the job of lionboy. He chatted with the twins, with Hans and Julius and some of the Italians, who after supper sang and played the mandolin, and everyone joined in. Later he curled up in the ropelocker. Through it all he thought and thought about what would be the best way to handle the job with which the lion had charged him.

All the while, Claudine slept on.

Just before dawn, the engines started to shudder and rumble, and the tide turned that would carry the Circe Circe up the great, broad, gleaming Seine to Paris. Charlie smelled the bacon frying in the galley, and heard the gulls cawing in the pale first light. With cries and calls and a great churning of water, up the great, broad, gleaming Seine to Paris. Charlie smelled the bacon frying in the galley, and heard the gulls cawing in the pale first light. With cries and calls and a great churning of water, Circe Circe pulled out into the river. pulled out into the river.

Behind them, a fat little cat rushed to the waterside. Seeing the great s.h.i.+p moving inexorably upriver, a look of great guilt and sadness appeared on her face and she started to cry. Beside her, a scrawny, moldy-looking black dockyard cat, with bald patches on its bottom and sharp blue eyes, told her rudely to stop her yowling.

"Don't you talk to me!" she said prissily. "The likes of you shouldn't talk to the likes of me."

"Well, the likes of you shouldn't be screeching the whole bliddy place down," said the rude cat. "Why don't you just go back to your palace, Madame de bliddy Precious?" Whereupon she stopped yowling, started sniveling instead, and told him at great length and with a lot of repet.i.tion that she had every right to be there-which was more than could be said for some who by rights wouldn't exist at all-and she'd promised to get a message to the boy with the missing parents, and he was sailing away on that boat right there, and if the rude cat had done such a thing he too would be yowling and screeching the place down, and she was so upset about it that she didn't know what to do.

Then the moldy-looking cat screeched.

"It'll be them! them!" he exclaimed. "It'll be that that boy. We've to get that epistle to him at once! You dingwit! How bliddy stupid can yer get! Gimme that!" boy. We've to get that epistle to him at once! You dingwit! How bliddy stupid can yer get! Gimme that!"

Once he had taken the letter from her he was no longer interested in her. He looked after the s.h.i.+p, estimated her speed, looked around at the early-morning traffic, and raced straight to the bus station. With the letter in his teeth, speared on one of his canines, he leaped onto the roof rack of the first electrobus heading south, where he sat and complained without ceasing to the other cats up there about how incompetent the French were. His French was execrable-he was a north of England cat, on his travels-but at least he made the effort to be rude to them in their own language.

Charlie, with no knowledge of any of this, had decided what he had to do.

When Maccomo fed the lions that morning, Charlie watched closely, without being observed, to see what he did with the medicine. Five drops in the oldest lion's water, three for each of the mothers, one for Elsina, and five for the young lion. He watched closely where Maccomo put the medicine (in a small locker in the lionchamber), and he watched closely where Maccomo put the key to that small locker. Then when, after lunch, Maccomo lay down with his crimson cloak around him to smoke his cigarette and doze, Charlie silently tiptoed into the chamber. Once he was certain that Maccomo was asleep, quietly and with great fear in his heart Charlie took Maccomo's own water flask from where it stood on the floor beside him, emptied it out, and refilled it from the oldest lion's water bottle-the bottle with the most medicine added. He replaced the bottle by the lion trainer's side, then he tipped out the rest of the medicined water in the lions' bottles. The low gurgling sound as the water poured out made Charlie start, but Maccomo didn't stir.

Most of it went on the floor-it couldn't be helped. He just hoped Maccomo wouldn't notice-and he might well not, because it was Charlie who cleaned the cages. Swiftly and silently, he refilled the lions' drinking bottles with fresh clean water. All the while the young lion and Elsina watched him, and they purred quietly, and Elsina growled gentle phrases of encouragement.

Then they all just had to wait and see what happened. Charlie lay back on his bale of hay and despite everything, began to doze a little himself.

It wasn't long before Maccomo woke up, thirsty, reached for his flask, and took a long swig. So far so good! Disturbed by the noise, the oldest lion woke up, also thirsty, and took a long swig of his own water. Neither of them seemed to notice any difference.

Julius had said they expected to reach Paris in six days' time. That meant there were six more opportunities to make and keep Maccomo dopey, and six more days to clear the mind of the oldest lion. If Charlie could pull off this trick again and again, and if the young lion had been right about what was in the medicine, then by the time they reached Paris, the oldest lion would have his spirit back and Maccomo would be constantly tired and dull.

Charlie grinned at the young lion. The young lion whisked his whiskers at Charlie. Step one had been accomplished.

Maccomo yawned, rolled over in his cloak, and went back to sleep.

"Yay!" whispered Charlie, in triumph but trying to be very quiet.

Maccomo began to snore gently. Charlie and the younger lions began to relax. (The lionesses looked on, silently.) "Charlie," said Elsina. "Why were your parents taken away? Have they been taken to a circus, like us?"

"Don't be stupid," the young lion began. "Humans join circuses because they want to, not because anyone makes them."

"But, in a way, it's the same," Charlie said. "Someone wants them to work for them, perform tricks they don't want to perform, to hand over their specialness and their skills . . ."

Elsina looked shocked. The lionesses blinked. They understood this, and they felt for Charlie.

Charlie didn't notice. He had just thought of something.

"Ahh," he sighed.

The young lion c.o.c.ked an ear.

"I know what it is," said Charlie. "At least-I don't know exactly what it is, but I know . . ." But he stopped himself from telling the lions. He'd twice let his mouth run away from him: giving his name to Major Tib and calling Rafi to be rude and proud. He very much wanted a friend to confide in, but it was too dangerous. Only if he needed to would he tell the lions about the series of letters and numbers written in his mother's blood. It wasn't that he didn't trust them. He just had to be self-controlled about this.

"If you know," said the lion, "won't they come after you too?"

Charlie felt cold.

Could Rafi know that he had the formula? Could Rafi know what it was for?

Surely not.

But Charlie knew so little about what was going on . . .

And if Rafi knew, maybe he'd think it was easier to get it out of Charlie than out of his parents.

Why would Rafi want it? He's just a-no, Charlie, he's not just an anything. He's in this up to his ears. Probably he thinks he can sell it or something. He's your enemy.

Rafi hadn't called again since the young lion had roared at him-so in that sense, the roaring had worked. But Charlie really had to keep his head down. The circus was a good place to hide, and he should never have risked it by making that phone call!

"You need to talk to a cat," said the young lion. "Find someone coming the other way and see what's being said."

"I can't go and start yelling in Cat over the side of the s.h.i.+p to some pa.s.serby," said Charlie. "The circusguys and the sailors will think I'm crazy."

"True," said the young lion. "Wait till we pull in for the night at Rouen, then you can go and sniff around."

Charlie nodded, and went back to the ropelocker. He wanted to try the telephones again, just to see if by some miracle someone had called him. But he didn't. In case Rafi had. "c.o.c.ky Slimy Git," he muttered, but it didn't work.

He felt very alone.

"My only friends are lions," he said, trying the idea on for size, and liking it, but finding it quite scary. He wondered if he could confide in Julius, or Hans. He'd like to. Nothing against the lions, but sometimes a boy just wants to talk to another boy. But he couldn't risk it.

Everyone was banned from both the big top and the rehearsal cabins when anybody else was rehearsing, so Charlie hadn't seen any of the other acts yet, and he longed to. Hans's kitten apparently did a parachute jump. Whatever plan developed for the lions' escape, Charlie decided, it would happen after after the big show in Paris. He might never again have the opportunity to run away with the circus, and he absolutely insisted that he was going to get to see the Show at least. the big show in Paris. He might never again have the opportunity to run away with the circus, and he absolutely insisted that he was going to get to see the Show at least.

Of course, what he really wanted was to be in in it. Flying through the air on the trapeze; topmounter in the Lucidis' human pyramid, or human cannonball even, in a little velvet suit, landing way over yonder with his face covered in soot and his ears ringing. He wanted to see the Learned Pig being learned. And Madame Barbue-did she just walk in and be bearded? Or did she do tricks too? Tricks with her beard? Julius and Hans and the twins had made it clear that there was a big difference between Acts-people with skills, who did amazing things, and belonged to the circus-and what they called Freaks-people who just sat there looking weird or strange, like a three-legged calf, or the fattest person in the world. If a freaky-looking person had an act, then that was great, they could-and should-be with a circus. But not if they were just there for people to stare at. "It's easy to feel alone and weird when people are just staring at you," said the twins in unison. "But if you're doing something to amuse and amaze them, then you feel good." it. Flying through the air on the trapeze; topmounter in the Lucidis' human pyramid, or human cannonball even, in a little velvet suit, landing way over yonder with his face covered in soot and his ears ringing. He wanted to see the Learned Pig being learned. And Madame Barbue-did she just walk in and be bearded? Or did she do tricks too? Tricks with her beard? Julius and Hans and the twins had made it clear that there was a big difference between Acts-people with skills, who did amazing things, and belonged to the circus-and what they called Freaks-people who just sat there looking weird or strange, like a three-legged calf, or the fattest person in the world. If a freaky-looking person had an act, then that was great, they could-and should-be with a circus. But not if they were just there for people to stare at. "It's easy to feel alone and weird when people are just staring at you," said the twins in unison. "But if you're doing something to amuse and amaze them, then you feel good."

There was so much that Charlie wanted to see. He wanted to watch the audiences' faces when the ring cage came down, as he scurried from one hole to another, pegging it safely into place so the lions couldn't escape. He wanted to hear the Calliope whistling and droning down the ca.n.a.l, and through the streets of Paris, so that all the Parisians would be saying "What is that?" and widening their eyes and dropping their shopping bags.

For a moment, Charlie seriously thought that perhaps he should not help the lions to escape after all.

Then he thought about his parents, and about the Ruins Cats, and about Rafi and his sneaky mother, and about lions lying around under the African sun, being free and happy, and he sighed.

It's 234 miles from Le Havre to Paris. They would be pa.s.sing through six locks, and the journey would take six days. It could be done quicker, but because the Circe Circe was so huge, she had to move quite slowly once they were past Rouen. If they went too fast, their wake could capsize smaller vessels, or wash away the banks of the river. There were speed limits to respect, and the locks took time to pa.s.s through . . . But this first section of the journey had to be done as fast as possible. They had actually set off just before the tide had turned, because there was a low bridge at Honfleur, and they had to get there during low tide so the s.h.i.+p could pa.s.s under it. was so huge, she had to move quite slowly once they were past Rouen. If they went too fast, their wake could capsize smaller vessels, or wash away the banks of the river. There were speed limits to respect, and the locks took time to pa.s.s through . . . But this first section of the journey had to be done as fast as possible. They had actually set off just before the tide had turned, because there was a low bridge at Honfleur, and they had to get there during low tide so the s.h.i.+p could pa.s.s under it.

"We're on the road to Rouen!" cried Julius, giggling. "There's no hope for us now!"

"What?" said Maccomo, who didn't have a sense of humor.

"Rouen," said Hans. "You know, like Ruin. The Road to Ruin."

Maccomo still didn't get it, or if he did, he didn't think much of it.

They soon left the open bleakness of the estuary behind, and were moving quickly past pretty wooded cliffs that gave way to swampy-looking sandy banks. Stuck on one of them, a little way ahead, Charlie and Julius could see a small boat at a strange angle. It looked as if it had been washed up there and just left hanging. There were some people on it, shouting and waving. They could just make them out.

"Oh, hang on," said Julius. "This'll be good!"

"What?" said Charlie, and as he said it he felt a strong, firm increase in the rumble of the Circe Circe's engines, and a sudden forceful surge in her power. They were speeding up.

It was a bit like the moment before an airplane takes off-though of course Julius and Charlie had never been in an airplane. It was a moment of pure power, and it thrilled the boys.

"What's happening?" yelled Charlie. "We're going to drown that boat!"

"Quite the opposite!" cried Julius, grinning and hanging over the side. "Look! Look!"

The people in the boat had stopped waving. As the Circe Circe drew nearer, Charlie could see that they were very busy: They were up on deck, facing the sh.o.r.e, and they had poles and boat hooks. A couple of people were on sh.o.r.e too, also holding poles out, as if they were expecting something. And so they were. drew nearer, Charlie could see that they were very busy: They were up on deck, facing the sh.o.r.e, and they had poles and boat hooks. A couple of people were on sh.o.r.e too, also holding poles out, as if they were expecting something. And so they were.

As the Circe Circe came careening past, she steered dramatically in toward the bank. Charlie thought she was going to collide with the boat. "What are they doing?" he yelled, but then, rather later than Charlie found comfortable, the came careening past, she steered dramatically in toward the bank. Charlie thought she was going to collide with the boat. "What are they doing?" he yelled, but then, rather later than Charlie found comfortable, the Circe Circe swerved suddenly back out into the middle of the river. The great wave of her wake spread in a huge V behind her, whoos.h.i.+ng toward the bank, and the little boat that hung so precariously upon it. swerved suddenly back out into the middle of the river. The great wave of her wake spread in a huge V behind her, whoos.h.i.+ng toward the bank, and the little boat that hung so precariously upon it.

"Alley-oop!" came a shout from the Lucidi family, who were hanging off the rails like Julius and Charlie, watching the action.

Charlie was terrified for the little boat, but as the wash came upon it, a cry went up aboard and ash.o.r.e, and there was suddenly a great pus.h.i.+ng and shoving with the poles and boat hooks, as those ash.o.r.e tried to push the boat into the river, and those aboard tried to push off from the riverbank. And with the arrival of all that extra water underneath them, it worked-the Circe Circe's wake s.n.a.t.c.hed the little s.h.i.+p from the muddy bank where she had been stranded, and pulled her back into the main flow of the river-right side up, shaky, its occupants cheering.

"Wow!" cried Charlie.

"Ai ai ai ai ai!" cheered the Lucidi family.

"Caramba!" yelled Julius.

The circus s.h.i.+p gradually slowed down again. Capsizing the little boat she had just rescued was not part of the plan.

"Do you often do that?" asked Charlie.

"Hardly ever," said Julius. "I've only seen it done once before, by another s.h.i.+p, and it didn't work. The little boat got shoved even farther up the bank, and on its side too. This was fantastic. Fantastic."

Charlie and Julius careened around the deck, pretending to be small boats stuck on mudflats and big boats rescuing them, until Julius suddenly found that he was was stuck in a mudflat: a big pile of Learned Pig poo. Charlie got the giggles. Julius, however, was annoyed-he felt Hans should pay more attention to where his pig p.o.o.ped. So he went and jumped on him, which annoyed Hans-he felt Julius shouldn't jump on him and wallop him when he hadn't even known that his pig stuck in a mudflat: a big pile of Learned Pig poo. Charlie got the giggles. Julius, however, was annoyed-he felt Hans should pay more attention to where his pig p.o.o.ped. So he went and jumped on him, which annoyed Hans-he felt Julius shouldn't jump on him and wallop him when he hadn't even known that his pig had had p.o.o.ped. p.o.o.ped.

Charlie left them to it, and went quietly back on deck to think about the lions.

That night when Maccomo had gone to dinner, Charlie said to the young lion: "What I don't understand is why you you aren't affected by the medicine. It was in your water too, but you're not dopey and tired. You haven't given up." aren't affected by the medicine. It was in your water too, but you're not dopey and tired. You haven't given up."

"He's been sharing my water," said Elsina quietly. "I get fewer drops because Maccomo is hoping I will have cubs one day, and the drops are bad for a young lioness's health. So I get one drop just to calm me down a little. Of course one drop had hardly any effect on him him because he's much bigger than me." She gestured to the young lion, who smiled and looked rather pleased with himself. because he's much bigger than me." She gestured to the young lion, who smiled and looked rather pleased with himself.

Charlie nodded. He was glad that these creatures he had fallen in with were intelligent. It was rea.s.suring.

Later, just as Charlie was preparing to sneak off the s.h.i.+p and find a cat, Maccomo said: "Don't imagine that you are going ash.o.r.e. Tonight you sleep here and guard the lions. Do not leave them alone. French people are not honest."

Charlie was torn between anger at not being able to leave and the urge to say: "That's stupid. You can't say people aren't honest just because of where they come from-some are and some aren't, like everybody." Instead he just sat there, fuming, in the lionchamber. He made himself angrier still by calling his dad's phone over and over, even though it had been un.o.btainable for days now. He was furious that he had to do as Maccomo said, to avoid making him suspicious. He had had to be sensible and keep out of trouble. If it hadn't been for that, he would have been over the side in a second, no matter what the old bigot said. He was getting desperate for news. to be sensible and keep out of trouble. If it hadn't been for that, he would have been over the side in a second, no matter what the old bigot said. He was getting desperate for news.

He didn't feel like being sensible. He felt like doing doing something, running somewhere, punching someone, throwing something out the window. something, running somewhere, punching someone, throwing something out the window.

He looked at his phone.

He looked up c.o.c.ky Slimy Git.

Before he could stop himself, he'd pressed the b.u.t.ton.

Voice mail.

"Hi, Rafi," he said in an insolent way. "I hope my trip to the zoo amused you. And what a shame it is you haven't called again. I'd be so interested to learn how you sleep at night-" And then he hung up quickly, because in his mind the sentence was continuing "you greasy bully slimeball . . ." and his purpose was not to make Rafi angry again. It was to put him off the scent.

There. Done it.

Charlie smiled dangerously.

It worked-for about five minutes. The zoo, eh? thought Rafi, gliding along in the silver car. Which zoo, he wondered, and why?

Then he thought: And why would he be telling me-calling me especially to tell me-that he's been on a trip to the zoo? . . . Because he hasn't!

Here, for the moment, Rafi took a wrong turn. He wants me to think it was just a trip. He's at a zoo now! He's staying in a zoo!

So he called his research villain, and as a result wasted another couple of days and quite a lot of money having him locate and visit all the zoos in the country reachable by water.