Mister Monday: Chapter Three

[pangolin20]

Chapter Two | Table of Contents | Chapter Four

Corneille Blanche: A good day, everyone, and welcome back to Mister Monday. Last time, we learned about Arthur’s family, we saw him get to meet Ed and Leaf, and various magical things happened.

Let us see what happens this time.

 

Arthur leaves for home on “Friday afternoon”, with the Key and the Atlas wrapped in a shirt in a plastic bag. Ed and Leaf have not returned to the hospital “[f]or some reason”. Yes, this will be plot-relevant soon. He thought of trying to call them up, but he does not know their last names, so that “ha[s] proved impossible.” Huh. I would think that “Leaf” would be distinctive enough as a given name. Then again, she might not be listed, given how young she is.

He has also asked “Nurse Thomas”, who I think is the nurse who appeared last chapter, about them, but she did not know and “the hospital had gotten busier and busier through the week.” Very ominous. Arthur thinks he will see them at school on the next Monday.

Bob picks him up and drives him home, “humming a tune under his breath as they cruise[] through the streets.” Arthur looks idly out the window, but he is still thinking about the Key, the Atlas, and Monday, as he has been doing the entire week.

They are almost at home when Arthur “[sees] something that snap[s] him straight out of his reverie.” They are apparently coming down “the second-to-last hill before their street” when this happens. He sees in the valley ahead “an enormous, ancient-looking house” that encompasses an entire block. My, this book does not hold back with its supernatural elements.

It is made of “stone, odd-shaped bricks of different sizes, and ancient timbers of many kinds and colours.” “It looked as if it had been extended and added to without thought or care, using many different styles of architecture. It had arches, aqueducts and apses; bartizans, belfries and buttresses; chimneys, crenellations and cupolas; galleries and gargoyles; pillars and portcullises; terraces and turrets.”

Well, that is certainly messy! It also seems like a nightmare to navigate. I do like the alliteration in the description here; it is such a fun little touch to have in this book, though I admit I had to look up some of these words.

Arthur notes that it looks “totally out of place”, and he says that there is a reason for that: it was not there on Monday. The book uses three paragraphs to convey this. Also, I think that it is also out-of-place because it does not mesh with the style of the surrounding buildings. I will not exactly yell at this, but it is written quite clumsily.

Arthur points and asks “What is that?” Bob asks what it is, and slows down to look through the windshield. Arthur says it is a “place”, and that it is huge and was not there earlier. Bob asks where, scanning the houses. He says that they mostly look the same to him, at least qua size. He explains that that is why they went to live out of the city. After all, if they want to have a garden, they need a “real garden”. He then notes a house “with a Jeep out front” as the one Arthur indicates. He notes that the “garage door” was painted recently and it might look different because of that.

Arthur nods. He notes that Bob obviously cannot see the strange house, and can only see those “that used to be there.” He then thinks that maybe the houses are still there, and he is “seeing into another dimension or something.” He says he would have thought he was mentally ill, but he has the Atlas and the Key and his conversation with Ed and Leaf to back him up.

Hmmm… This section is not what I would call badly-written, but it could do with some improvement. For one, we do not need to be told that Bob cannot see the house, and the speculation about whether or not the houses are actually there is not particularly relevant, either.

Anyway, they go along, and Arthur notes that there is a wall around the house. In an awkward parenthetical, he decides to call it the capitalised “House”. It is a “slick, marble-faced wall about ten feet high, that look[s] smooth and very difficult to climb.” That is one way to keep out intruders. He can see not gate, at least not on the side they are going past. And then the book skips to talking about Arthur’s house. Yes, I think this transition could have been more fluid.

I will sum up what happens next:

- Their house is only about a mile away, behind the next hill.

- It is in a “transition area” between “the suburbs and the country.”

- His family has a large block, which is mostly “a fairly out-of-control garden.” Bob says he loves gardening, but he loves planning more than doing.

- He and Emily have bought the ground some years ago, but they have only moved in recently.

- The house is brand new, has only been finished “a few months before”, there are still “plumbers and electricians” coming along from time to time, it has been designed by a “famous architect”, and it has four levels and is “cut into the hill”.

- The first floor has the “garage, workshop, Bob’s studio and Emily’s home office.”

- The second floor has living spaces and a kitchen, the next has “bedrooms and bathrooms.” The bedrooms are Bob and Emily’s and two guest rooms.

- The top one is smallest, and has bedrooms for Michaeli, Eric, and Arthur, and a bathroom that they are either fighting over or locked out of.

When they arrive, no one is home. There is a futuristic screen on the refrigerator that shows “the latest posts and emails from the various members of the family.” Emily is held back at the lab, Michaeli is out and will be back later, and Eric is doing basketball.

Bob asks if Arthur wants to have dinner with him. He is humming again, which is “a sure sign of imminent song composition.” We are told that offering to go out when he wants to compose a song is a “sacrifice” for him.

Arthur says “no, thanks”, as he really wants to be able to study the Key and the Atlas. He says that he will take a snack later, and he wants to check his room, to make sure that “the others” did not mess it up while he was away.

We are told that they both know that Arthur is “being kind” and letting Bob work on his song, but they are also okay with this. And I think we did not need all this spelled out for us.

Bob says he will be in the studio, and Arthur can call him if he wants to. He asks if Arthur has his inhalator, and Arthur nods. Bob offers, as he leaves, that they might take a pizza, but they should not tell Emily.

Arthur goes upstairs to his room, taking his time on the stairs. He can breathe fine, but he is quite weak after lying around for five days, and even “a few flights of stairs” is not easy. He locks the door in case his siblings return, and then puts the Atlas and the Key on the bed. “[W]ithout knowing why”, he turns off the light.

It is quite dark, even though moonlight shines into the window. So it was night? I did not exactly get that impression. It would have been darker, “but both the Key and the Atlas glow[] with a strange blue light that shimmer[s] like water.” Oooh, magic! That is quite nice indeed! Arthur picks both things up, the Key in his left hand and the Atlas in his right.

Without Arthur doing anything, the Atlas “flip[s] open”. He drops it on the bed in surprise. It stays open, and he “watche[s] in amazement” as it grows to be as large as his pillow. I presume that is for ease of reading.

The open pages are empty for a moment, but then “lines [begin] to appear, as if an invisible artist [is] hard at work”. More and more lines appear, and they come faster, too. Within a few seconds, the picture is complete, and Arthur realises it is a picture of the House, “so well drawn that it [is] almost like a photograph.”

A “handwritten note” appears next to the picture, which reads: “The House: An Exterior Aspect as Manifested in Many Secondary Realms.” So the Earth is apparently a “Secondary Realm”. Good to know.

Some more words appear, in a much smaller font. Next to it, an arrow appears “that point[s] to an inked-in square on the outer wall.” The label reads “Monday Postern”. Arthur does not know what a “postern” is, so he takes a dictionary from the bookshelf above his desk. He keeps an eye on the Atlas if anything interesting might occur. And that does. He has to put the Key down to pull the dictionary out, as it is jammed between other books, and as soon as he does, the Atlas slams shut and shrinks to its usual size.

Arthur deduces that you need the Key to use the Atlas, and he looks up the definition of “postern”. The dictionary glosses it as “a back door or gate” and “any lesser or private entrance”. He puts it back and thinks it over. He thinks that the picture and the indication of the gate are “an invitation of sorts.” He wonders if he can trust the Atlas. He is quite sure that Monday and Sneezer are enemies, or, at the least, not friends, but he is not sure about the “whirling type”. He supposes that they’ve given him the Key, too, but he does not know what their purpose is.

He decides that there is only one way to find out: he will take a look at the House as soon as he can, either on Saturday or on Sunday, and he will try to go in through Monday’s Postern. And depending on what he sees there, he will tell Ed and Leaf and get them to help, as they can see the supernatural phenomena. Yes, that will go entirely well, for sure.

He decides to hide the Key and the Atlas for the meantime in “the belly of the life-sized ceramic Komodo dragon” on the balcony above his bedroom. Arthur’s family certainly has style! Too bad Fumurti is not here; she might quite enjoy the coming segment… The statue is hollow, but its mouth is open too little for anyone larger than Arthur to reach in. And the book clarifies that is actually a “huge lizard”. Which is what dragons are, so I am not sure why this ought to be clarified.

Once he is done with this, Emily comes home, and the place “transform[s] from a quiet retreat into a family home.” She checks on Arthur, and then coaxes Bob into coming out for dinner. Emily is “happy and relaxed”, because Arthur is fine, and because “for the first time in ages”, she does not have to develop a vaccine. Winter is nearing, but it seems to be a calm season for sickness.

Arthur’s plan is immediately foiled, as Emily tells him to take it easy for the next few days. There is a missing quotation mark here, not that I immediately noticed this. Arthur frowns at this, but he knows better than to argue. He knows he will have a hard time just waiting, but if he tries to sneak out, he will be grounded for a month, or maybe a whole year.

Emily says that she knows it is hard for him not to do anything active, as she hugs him. She tells him it is only for a while, and says he needs to give himself a chance to get stronger. She thinks that going to school next Monday will be tough enough for him.

The weekend drags for him, as he cannot do anything useful. Eric and Michaeli are busy with “their usual mysterious activities”, Bob is composing, and Emily is called to work “to check out some strange admissions at the local hospitals.” Ominous. We are told that she is usually called when there is a rise “in patients exhibiting unusual symptoms”. He is always very relieved when she comes home and says it is nothing serious, as he very aware of the “potential tragedy” in every such report.

Cue Sunday morning, as Arthur gets the Atlas and the Key out. Once again he holds the Atlas and the Key, and once again there is the picture of the House. There are no further details, but Arthur still spends hours looking at it, and wondering how the House is composed and how it must look like from the inside. Finally it is Sunday night. He puts the Key and the Atlas back, and goes to bed early, hoping that he will fall asleep quickly so he does not have to wait all that time. But, naturally, that does not happen. He simply cannot fall asleep. He even reads “most of a book”, and then simply lies thinking.

When he does fall asleep, it is not for long. He is woken up by something, which he cannot place at first. When he turns his head, the digital clock indicates that it is “12:01.” “One minute after midnight, on Monday morning.” My, Monday is seriously set on getting the Key back, is he not? Arthur notes that there is a “scratching noise, like a tree branch scraping”, at the window. But there is no tree that is tall or close enough to reach the window.

He sits up and puts on the light, his heart pounding. His breathing becomes more difficult, and he tells himself to calm down and breathe slowly. Then he decides to look at the window. When he does so, he jumps back, and “fall[s] down behind his bed.” And what has him so spooked, exactly? This is it:

“There was a winged man hanging in the air a few feet from the window and easily fifty feet above the ground. An ugly, squat man with a jowled face like a bloodhound. A dog-faced man. Even his rapidly beating wings, though feathery, looked ugly and unkempt, dirty grey in the light that spilled out from Arthur’s room.”

Yes, that is quite unsettling indeed. Especially since they now can fly, too, apparently. I do wonder what, exactly, this being is supposed to accomplish. Grab the Key back? If so, he’ll have a hard time of it, because he wouldn’t be able to reach far enough into the dragon to get it. And anyway, we have seen the Key return to Arthur before now, so I do not really know how Monday thinks this will work. I get the feeling he just threw something at it without even bothering to think about it. Still, he is powerful enough that this could be quite dangerous.

We get some more description of the man, namely that he is wearing “a very old-fashioned dark suit” and carries a “bowler hat”, which he is using to tap on the window. He then tells Arthur to let him in. We are told that his voice is distorted, but “it [is] low and husky and full of menace.” He tells Arthur again to let him in.

Arthur whispers “no”, as he thinks back to “every vampire film he ha[s] ever seen”. He says that this is obviously no vampire, but since the man asks to be let in, the same principle might apply: he can’t get in unless invited. But in the films, he thinks, they usually hypnotise someone to let them in… And then, “[t]he bedroom door opens.” The tension is very good here, I must say.

Arthur feels as though his heart has stopped at this. He immediately assumes that someone has been hypnotised already and that they will let the man in.

Then a “long forked tongue” appears around the door, tasting the air. Arthur grabs the dictionary, which he has left by the bed, and raises it over his head. I do not think that will do much, but he does not exactly has much else to fight with.

A “scaly head” then appears, and a “clawed foot”. Arthur partially lowers the dictionary as he sees that it is the ceramic dragon from the balcony. Arthur does not know whether it is still ceramic, but it is “alive and moving swiftly.” He slowly climbs onto the bed and presses himself against the wall, keeping the dictionary ready for throwing. He wonders whose side the dragon is on.

The man again demands to be let in. At that, the dragon hisses and sprints ahead, “shockingly fast, to rear up in front of the window.” It opens its mouth and a beam of “brilliant white light” shoots out, like a searchlight. The man screams as it hits him and throws up his arms, his hat flying through the air. He “hurtle[s] backwards, wings thrashing”, and disappears in “a coiling puff of coal-black smoke.” Well, that was very effective, thankfully!

The lizard closes its mouth, and the beam disappears. Then, it slowly steps back from the window, and walks to the end of Arthur’s bed, where it stops and “assume[s] its usual stance.” Its skin ripples, and then it is still. “Totally ceramic once more.” Presumably this was the Key’s doing, by the way.

Arthur drops the dictionary, picks up his inhaler and takes some puffs. As he goes to shut the door, he is surprised that he can barely stand on his legs. Well, considering what he just experienced, I would think this is only to be expected. He goes back, and pets the dragon on the head. He briefly considers getting the Key and the Atlas out, but decides he should better do that in the morning.

Once he is in bed again, he looks at the clock. He is sure that “it [is] no accident that this ha[s] happened first thing on Monday.” He thinks that it will be an interesting day. He turns away from the window, so he will not be tempted to look, and closes his eyes.

The chapter ends with noting that he leaves the light on. Well, that was nice! It might be a bit quicker, but I still do not have any problems with this book.

Next chapter will be with Vermaanti. See me in chapter 9!