Return to Roar, page 2
“Arthur, come and look at this,” says Rose. She’s found a trunk full of our old toys. I pull out a ninja costume that looks just like the robes Win wears, a bag of pirate Lego, and then a red plastic dragon.
“I thought you’d taken all this to the charity shop,” I say to Grandad.
He shrugs. “It seemed a shame to throw it out.”
I know what he means. It was playing with these toys that led to Roar appearing inside the cot. We don’t know how it happened, or why some games came to life in Roar while others stayed firmly in the real world, but these toys are where it all began.
Rose carefully folds a mermaid’s tail and puts it back in the trunk. She looks around the attic. “I love it all, Grandad!”
“You’ve not seen the best bit yet,” he says, then he bends down and flicks a switch. A string of fairy lights starts to flash over one of the eaves, and I see that tucked inside, covered in Nani’s silky sari, is the folding cot. Its boxy shape makes a shiver run through me.
Grandad smiles proudly. “I thought a magical portal deserved a special place to live,” he says, and then, like a magician, he whips off the sari.
I stare at the cot’s familiar flowery mattress and rusty springs. The plastic headboard reflects the twinkling fairy lights. I run my hands over the words I scratched into the headboard years ago—ENTUR HEER FOR THE LANED OF ROAR!!!—and my stomach knots with excitement. Soon we’ll be crawling into the mattress. Soon we’ll be in Roar!
“I polished the headboard and oiled the wheels,” says Grandad, pulling the bed into the middle of the room.
“But you haven’t opened it, have you?” asks Rose. She’s always believed that opening the bed will make everything inside disappear. We don’t know if this is true, but it’s not something we ever want to test out.
“I’ve not opened it, or even put my head in there,” he says. “I’m only crawling into that cot if you two don’t come back next Sunday.”
I don’t blame Grandad for not wanting to go inside the bed. It was only a few months ago that Crowky dragged him out of my hands, through the bed, and into Roar. Crowky took Grandad to the Crow’s Nest, where he stuffed him by pressing his twiggy fingers down on his body and squeezing the life out of him. Grandad would have stayed like that forever—a lifeless scarecrow—if Rose and I hadn’t gotten to him in time.
Just thinking about Crowky makes the excited tingle in my stomach turn into a knot of worry. I take a step back from the bed as if I’m expecting Crowky’s hand to appear and grab hold of me, or worse, grab hold of Grandad.
“You all right, Arthur?” says Grandad.
I force myself to smile. “Yeah . . . just excited.”
“No he’s not,” says Rose. “He’s worried about the T-shirt.” My sister can read my mind. It’s a twin thing. She knows when I’m happy, sad, worried, or lying. It’s really annoying.
Grandad pats my shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about that old thing, Arthur. It was falling to bits before Crowky got his hands on it. It was my painting T-shirt, remember?”
“Plus Crowky hasn’t got a clue what it can do,” adds Rose. “As far as he’s concerned, it’s just an old T-shirt, not some key that will magically let him out of Roar and into this world!”
Her words don’t reassure me. If anything, they make me feel worse. “But there’s still a chance that Crowky could crawl into the tunnel wearing it, isn’t there?”
“Arthur, it’s a tiny chance,” says Grandad. “It’s not worth worrying about.”
“Great!” says Rose. “In that case, can we get going?”
Grandad laughs. “No way. You two aren’t going anywhere until I’ve given you a bit of advice.”
“Seriously?” says Rose, but he’s already pulling out an old blackboard and waving us toward the sofa.
Once we’re sitting down, he finds a piece of yellow chalk and writes “Grandad’s Top Tips” along the top of the blackboard. “Don’t worry,” he says. “This won’t take long.”
He’s right. It doesn’t take long, because he only has three top tips to share:
1) No running on the dragons. Ride them SENSIBLY.
2) Be home by three p.m. Sunday or I’ll come looking for you. (Seeing as Mum and Dad are supposed to be picking us up at four, this is pretty relaxed.)
3) Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!!
Number three seems to be giving us permission to do absolutely anything we want because Grandad is a man with very poor risk-assessment skills. He once actively encouraged me to jump out of the cherry tree onto the trampoline, and he believes no hill is too steep to cycle down “if you’ve got the right attitude.”
“Grandad, are you saying we can climb tall trees?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says, nodding seriously.
“Have bonfires?”
“Of course! Have as many as you like.” (Grandad loves bonfires.)
Rose sees where I’m going with this. “Can I gallop fast on Orion, swim in the mermaid lagoon, and go to bed whenever I like, and possibly not at all?”
“Yes, yes, and YES!” Grandad laughs. “Just don’t run on the dragons. That’s dangerous. Oh, there is one last rule.” Grandad selects a new red chalk and writes:
4) Avoid all unnecessary winding up of Crowky—he’s unstable.
“Well, obviously,” says Rose. “Now can we go to Roar?”
“Yes!” says Grandad, and Rose is so happy that she does something totally unexpected: she throws her arms around me and gives me a hug.
It doesn’t take us long to get ready. Grandad makes us eat some cheese and pickle sandwiches and then insists that we have a “journey pee.” Then Rose changes into her leopard-print onesie and I brush my teeth because I know it’s going to be a while before I see a toothbrush again.
We meet back in Grandad’s kitchen.
“Have you got the map, Arthur?” says Rose.
I pull it out of my back pocket. I’ve put it in one of those waterproof plastic wallets because we always get soaked in Roar. “But this is all we’re taking, right?” She nods and we start emptying our pockets into Grandad’s fruit bowl. Rose puts in her phone, some hairbands, and a fluffy Tic Tac, and I add a stubby pencil and some loose change. We’ve agreed to do this so we don’t leave any other “magical keys” behind in Roar.
“Please can you give this to Win,” says Grandad, holding out a package wrapped in a paper towel. “It’s rocky road. I told him about it when we were at his cave and he said he wanted to try some ‘so bad it hurt his brain.’”
“Sorry, we can’t take it,” I say.
But Grandad insists on tucking the package into the pocket of my jeans alongside the map. “It’s fine: totally consumable. After Win’s eaten it, you can burn the paper towel. I promise Crowky won’t be using my rocky road to get out of Roar!” Grandad chuckles at his joke, but I only manage a weak smile. “Now are you two going to Roar or what?”
“Yes!” cries Rose, and I follow her as she bounds up the stairs two at a time. Grandad follows. The closer we get to the attic, the more my stomach squirms, and when I see the cot, I actually feel dizzy. Am I feeling excitement or fear? It’s really hard to tell.
“Are you sure it will work?” I ask Rose, eyeing the mattress. “It took me loads of tries to get to Roar last time.”
“Course it will work,” she says, confidently. “Just think of Roar and you’ll find your way there.”
“What about underpants?” I blurt out. Suddenly, I want to delay the moment I put my head inside the bed.
“What?” says Rose.
“Well, we can’t wear one pair of underpants for the whole week, can we? It’s disgusting!”
Rose shakes her head. “Arthur, you do realize how bad it will look if Crowky escapes from Roar because you need clean underpants?”
Grandad chuckles and draws a banner in the air. “Arthur Trout’s Fresh Underpants Obsession Destroys Humanity! Don’t worry about your under-crackers, mate. You can wash them in the waterfall. Now who’s going first?”
“Me!” says Rose, and then she gives Grandad a big hug before kneeling in front of the bed. We watch as she pushes her head and arms into the mattress, then starts wriggling forward. For a moment she looks like she’s stuck, but after a bit more twisting she manages to pull her legs and feet up behind her. Now her body is completely hidden inside the folded mattress.
Grandad and I stand next to each other and stare at the Rose-shaped bulge. At first nothing happens. Then the bed shudders, there’s a squeak of rusty springs . . . and Rose is gone.
“Blimey,” says Grandad, circling the bed. “I’ve never actually seen it happen. You must have gotten the shock of your life when I disappeared!”
“Something like that,” I say.
He looks at me. “Don’t you think you should get going, Arthur? I want you two to stick together in there. I don’t want Rose going into Roar on her own.”
“No,” I say. “Right. Here I go.” Only I don’t go. I stand there, staring at the bed, my heart thudding.
“Come here,” says Grandad, pulling me to him.
I press my face into his slightly wheezy chest and smell coffee and his sweater. “I think I’m scared, Grandad.”
He squeezes me tight. “Good, because that’s how some of the very best adventures start.” Then he turns me toward the bed. “Now go and have your adventure, Arthur Trout, Master of Roar!”
Taking a deep breath, and one last look at Grandad’s smiling face, I get down on my hands and knees and push my head inside the mattress.
The damp, dusty smell of the mattress hits me first, then the dark. It’s a thick, velvety darkness that wraps itself tight around me. I pull the rest of my body inside the bed until I’m curled up in a ball. Then I think about Roar.
I try to picture the mountains and Win’s cave, but my mind keeps jumping back to the fact that Grandad and the attic are on the other side of the cot. So I focus on one thing that I’ve stared at for hours: Win’s campfire. I picture the flames and hear the crackle and pop of burning wood. I see sparks drifting up into the dark sky. Bright orange sparks . . . Sky the color of the deepest water . . .
And then Roar washes over me like a wave from the Bottomless Ocean. I see trees and lakes so bright they could come from a cartoon, and a river that’s a rainbow ribbon. The smell is . . . sunshine . . . and woodsmoke and apples. I picture myself riding a bike through a forest, leaves snapping against my face. Cycling ahead of me is Win, his cloak flying out behind him. Wait for me, Win, I think. I’m coming! And I start to crawl.
I don’t notice when the mattress becomes rock, or when I start to breathe fresh, cold air, but I do notice the light. It begins as a spot of green, and it gets bigger as I crawl toward it.
Soon I reach the trailing leaves that cover the opening of the tunnel. I’m about to stick my head through them when I realize that the ledge outside is empty.
Where’s Rose? Has she gone into Roar and left me on my own? Then I have another thought . . . What if Crowky’s got her? I shrink back from the opening. He’s been in this tunnel before. It’s how he grabbed hold of Grandad!
I hold my breath and I listen. Silence . . . then something soft brushes against my ear. A feather! I scream, smacking my head on the roof of the tunnel.
Laughter rings out, and Rose wriggles out of a small hollow in the rock. “It’s me, you idiot,” she says. “Well, me and a feather.” She waves it in front of my face. It’s black and tatty and I know who it once belonged to.
I grab it and crumple it in my fist. “Rose, that is one of the scariest things you have ever done to me!”
“Thank you,” she says, grinning, “but, Arthur, you’re focusing on the wrong thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re here, in Roar!” she says. “And I’ve got the best feeling about Mitch.” Rose’s voice is bursting with excitement. “She’s back. I know she is!” Her last words are drowned out by water from the On-Off Waterfall crashing past the opening of the tunnel. The leaves tremble and a fine mist drifts over us.
I smile. Rose is right. We’re here, in Roar, and I’m not going to waste a second worrying about Crowky. “Then let’s go and find Mitch,” I say, and together we crawl out onto the ledge.
“That has got to be the best view in the world,” says Rose.
Late-afternoon light floods the valley and the Rainbow River slips between forests and lakes. It glows from the crystals that line its bed and leads all the way to the Bottomless Ocean, which, right now, is a band of dark blue. My eyes jump greedily from the sea to the trees that hide Win’s cave to the Tangled Forest where the Lost Girls used to live.
“Look at the Archie Playgo!” says Rose, pointing at the horizon. Light is gleaming on the hundreds of islands making them glow pink and orange. Rose can’t take her eyes off them, and I know why. That’s where Mitch lives.
“Shall we go and find Win?” I say. Rose might be desperate to go looking for Mitch, but Win lives closest to the waterfall and he’d never forgive us if we didn’t see him straight away.
Rose nods, tearing her eyes away from the Archie Playgo.
“Can you remember how we climb down?” I say, looking at the rocks sticking out from the side of the cliff. They lead to the ground, only I don’t know which ones are safe to step on.
“I say we jump,” says Rose, getting to her feet. “It’s the quickest way.”
“Really?” I inch forward, eyeing the drop. “Or you could call a dragon?”
“No,” she says. “We made this world and we put that pool there for a reason: so we could jump into it. Let’s go!” Then she takes a deep breath, pinches her nose, and steps calmly off the ledge.
I watch as she drops through the air, her hair flying out behind her. Rose might be moody and bossy and occasionally mean, but she’s very brave. She shoots into the water, barely making a ripple, then bursts back up to the surface. She waves and shouts, “Come on, Arthur. It’s easy!” Then she swims to the side and pulls herself out.
“Rose!” I call. “Wait for me!” But she’s already wandered off into the trees.
I get to my feet and inch forward until I’m standing on the very edge. I take a nice deep breath and . . . I stay exactly where I am. I’ve never been good with heights, and this is a whopping big height. Dizziness sweeps through me, and I remind myself of Grandad’s words: that the best adventures start with feeling scared. My heart thuds as I hold my breath. If he’s right, I’m about to have the biggest adventure of my life.
I jump.
I don’t land with a neat plop like Rose. I land with an almighty splash that gives me a colossal wedgie and a stinging slap to my entire body. I tumble around and around under the water, then bob to the surface.
Rose has reappeared and watches as I clamber out. “That was one seriously big scream,” she says. “I thought Crowky had gotten you!”
“It was more a yell,” I say, shaking my head to clear the water from my ears. “You know, from the adrenaline rush.”
“Well, get ready for another one,” she says, turning and walking into the forest. “There’s something you’ve got to see.”
I follow her until we reach a shadowy clearing. For a moment I can’t see anything, but then my eyes adjust, and, like magic, the forest bursts into life.
Fuzzies drop from the trees, then whiz between us, their tiny voices crying out, “Arthur, Arthur, Rose, Rose!” Then birds start singing. Well, they shriek and squawk, and when I look up I see that the trees are full of them. There are some yellow ones with silver beaks, but most are bright red with black feathers around their eyes. They look like they’re wearing masks.
“Superbirds!” I say.
Rose laughs as butterflies settle on her arm. They’re bigger than the butterflies at home and covered in velvety fur. She strokes one with her fingertip. “These were mine,” she says.
So were the fuzzies, I think as one of them dive-bombs toward me and starts to burrow into my hair. Everything in Roar began as something Rose or I loved or hated when we were little. Usually the things we loved appeared in the Good Side of Roar—where we are now—while the things we hated went to the Bad Side.
I shake the fuzzy from my hair, and Rose lifts her arms and the butterflies take off. “Come on,” she says, “let’s find Win.” And we set off for Win’s cave, a chattering group of fuzzies zooming alongside us.
It turns out that since we were last in Roar, Win has booby-trapped his cave. Luckily for us, he’s done it really badly.
I’m so keen to see Win that I run ahead of Rose, shouting out, “Win, we’re back!” As I dash across the rock outside his cave, something pulls tight across my legs, knocking me to my knees. Too late I realize I’ve run into a trip wire. I look up and see a bucket tip upside down. A single apple rolls out of the bucket and bounces off my head.
There is a cry from the cave and Win shoots out on a rusty bike. He does a wheelie through the embers of his fire, jumps off the bike, and tackles me to the ground. “AAAARRGHH!” he screams.
“Win, it’s me, Arthur,” I say, gasping, as he squeezes me tighter and tighter. “Stop fighting me!”
“I’m not fighting you: I’m hugging you. I really missed you, mate!”
After a final rib-crushing squeeze he jumps to his feet and throws his arms around Rose. She disappears inside his cloak. “Rose Trout, Master of Roar!” he says. “I thought you’d never come back!”
She wriggles away from him. “It’s only been two months, Win.”
“I know, but last time you went away you didn’t come back for more than three years.”
“Well, we’re here now,” she says, “just like we promised.”
“And it’s so good to be back,” I say, looking around. Everything about Win’s cave makes me happy: the smell of the fire, the mess of toys and weapons, the wheel that’s still spinning on his rusty bike. I feel like I’ve come home.
“Where did you get the bike?” I say. “I thought both the bikes were washed out to sea.”
