Read Online Tales From The Wyrd Museum 1: The Woven Path by Robin Jarvis - Free Book Online Page B

ain't no kindergarten story!’ he snorted. ‘What, you think on the stroke of midnight, when the grown-ups have gone out, the nursery comes to life? The only one here visited by the pixies is you, kid. You been watching too much Hollywood crapola. Plug in your brain. I'm gonna say this once and for all, there ain't no Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny's a load of hooey, cartoons ain't real life, I don't care who says so but Eddie Cantor just ain't funny and you're lookin’ at the one and only bear with a hankerin’ for Betty Grable this side o’ Mars. Before you think it—I ain't no alien either! Christ but you're dumb.’
    He folded his arms and waited for the boy to respond but the only remark Neil could manage to utter as he fought to accept the strange sight before him was, ‘You’ve got a foul mouth, whatever you are.’
    ‘Hey, I ain't no Joan of Arc either.’
    Neil chewed his bottom lip. ‘Have you got a name?’ he asked.
    The bear seemed taken aback by this and the stitched mouth opened as if he was about to tell, then he checked himself and with a self-conscious cough said, ‘You er... you just call me Ted, OK?’
    'Ted?’ Neil repeated. That's not very original.’
    ‘Best I can do, kid. Now, you finished asking the damn questions?’
    ‘Not really,’ the boy replied, “you still haven't explained anything...’
    Shrieking at the top of his voice, the bear flew at the glass in a rage of frustration, but he immediately reeled backwards when one of his stumpy feet gave the pane an impotent kick. A soft thud vibrated the cabinet as the toy fell amongst the papers, where he remained still and motionless.
    ‘Are you all right?’ Neil eventually asked when there was still no sign of movement. ‘Are you hurt? Hello?’
    The bear remained absolutely still and the boy's concern mounted. Taking a step closer, he stared into the case, but Ted looked like any ordinary stuffed toy and he began to think he really was going round the twist.
    ‘Hello,’ he said again. ‘Can you hear me, what's wrong?’
    The limp body gave a jerk as a mournful laugh burst from the bear's mouth.
    ‘What's wrong he asks!’ Ted cried, sitting upright and gazing sorrowfully out at the boy.
    ‘Can't you see?’ he muttered with a forlorn sniff as he waved a paw around the display. ‘How'd you like to be cooped up in here year after year? I'm goin’ stir-crazy, kid—if I have to spend one more week locked up, I'll go bananas.’
    The anguish in the bear's voice was unmistakable and genuine. Neil had heard it once before when his mother left home and this unpleasant memory flustered him.
    ‘You listening to me, kid?’
    Neil blinked then nodded. Well... well why don't you get out of there?’ he murmured.
    The bear pulled himself on to his feet. “Tain't that easy,’ he admitted, looking the boy squarely in the face. ‘I can't do it on my own, I need help. So, I'm asking you, let me outta here—please.’
    ‘You want me to do it?’
    ‘I'd prefer Veronica Lake but she ain't available. C'mon, lemme out.’
    Neil ran his hands over the cabinet, searching for a catch to release the front panel. ‘How does this thing open?’ he asked. ‘I can't find...’
    ‘What the hell you doin’?’ Ted shrieked impatiently. There ain't time fer that—those dippy broads keep all the keys and there's no way they'll give them to you. Just break the goddamn glass!’
    Neil stared in at the bear for a moment then backed away. ‘Oh, I couldn't do that,’ he said, ‘my dad's the caretaker here, I can't go smashing things.’
    ‘Oh brother!’ Ted cried. ‘I must have the only responsible kid in the world here. Who made you so old? Look, if you knew what I was goin’ through you wouldn't be stood there gawkin’—this glass'd be spilled all over the floor and yours truly'd be gone.’
    ‘Where would you go?’
    Ted hit a woolly fist against the pane and hung his head. ‘Mebbe you should ask me when,’ he muttered darkly.