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For an instant, the world went black. He hadn’t knocked himself out. He hadn’t even hurt himself very badly, apart from feeling as though all the air had been sucked out of him. But somehow all the light around him vanished, and he was falling through an empty void. Empty, that was, apart from distant white points that looked at first like stars, but soon revealed themselves as eyes, rushing rapidly closer —
‘Jack!’ Jaide was crying out as she knelt down next to the fallen pogo stick. ‘Jack! Where are you . . . oh!’
‘I’m here,’ answered Jack crossly. ‘Where else would I be?’
Jaide shook her head in bewilderment. She was sure that Jack hadn’t been there, that he’d disappeared as he hit the floor, vanishing into the shadow of a chair. The fear that he somehow might have gone for good slowly ebbed, but the memory of that sharp stab of fear remained. He was her brother. Sure, he annoyed her sometimes – but what would she do without him?
A sudden gust of wind made the window rattle like a drum, and both twins twisted around, startled by the noise.
‘I think that’s enough bouncing for now,’ said Grandma X, helping Jack up.
‘Are you sure you’re all right, Jack?’ asked Jaide.
Jack glanced at the mirror and saw himself, perfectly visible again, as he should have been. But he was distracted by a sound from outside, something rising above the sounds of the rain and wind.
‘What’s that noise?’ he asked. ‘Is that someone shouting?’
Jaide squinted through the rainswept glass and gasped. There was a man being blown like a leaf up the drive, his feet never quite touching the ground, his mouth open and bellowing.
‘Oh, dear,’ said Grandma X. ‘That isn’t right.’
THE TWINS FOLLOWED GRANDMA X as she rushed to the front door, threw it open, and ran outside. The wind howled and roared almost loudly enough to drown out the shouts of the man who was caught in its grip. He was in his fifties, heavily moustachioed. He wore jeans and cowboy boots very similar to Grandma X’s, and was waving an umbrella around and around his head.
He spun and tumbled toward them, somehow managing to always get back upright despite the intensity of the wind around him. It swept him right up to the front door, spun him around in a tight circle, and dumped him in the gravel by the steps. He landed on his bottom with his legs in the air, but he was still waving his umbrella.
‘Yee-ha!’ yelled the man, and only then did the twins realise that his shouts were of excitement, not fear.
The small tornado rushed back toward him, whipping up a cloud of wet gravel as it came. But before it could get hold of the man again, Grandma X stepped out and raised an admonishing finger.
‘Stop this at once!’ she commanded.
The hair on the backs of both the twins’ necks stood up at the whipcrack of her voice, and they felt a strong compulsion to stay completely still.
The wind must have felt it, too, for the tornado fell apart. The gravel dropped straight down, and the air was suddenly quiet and still, apart from the rain, which continued to fall in a steady stream.
The man picked up a handful of stones and threw them over his head like confetti.
‘That was great!’ he cried. ‘Just delightful!’
‘Are you okay?’ Jack asked, hesitating only slightly before rushing forward to help him up, with Jaide a step behind him.
‘Better than all right, young fellow, young lady – why, thank you. I feel quite enthused, as a matter of fact. That doesn’t happen every day.’
‘It shouldn’t happen at all,’ said Grandma X in a warning tone, coming up beside the twins with her arms folded. ‘How did it start?’
‘Well, I’d just ducked out of the shop to see where Kleo had got to when the wind snatched me up. I’ve never felt anything quite like it. A most amazing ride!’
‘Weren’t you frightened?’ asked Jaide, gazing up at his ruddy, beaming face.
‘Not at all. Why would I be?’
Because it isn’t normal, she wanted to say, but the words died on her lips. Very little about Grandma X, her home, and now her friends struck Jaide as remotely normal. That they seemed to like it that way only made them weirder.
The man thrust out his hand to her.
‘David Smeaton’s the name, but you can call me Rodeo Dave.’
He shook hands with both of the twins as they introduced themselves in turn. His hand was calloused and very strong, and his good mood infectious. Jack, who was normally reticent around strangers, found himself laughing at a slightly off-colour joke about wind.
‘You’re obviously all right, then, David,’ said Grandma X, not quite smiling. ‘Kleo is here, so the wind brought you to exactly the right place. Shall I call her?’
‘She’ll come home when she wants to, I expect. I’m just glad she’s found a safe port in all this weather, and some new friends to play with, to boot. Better get inside before you’re soaked right through,’ he added, his moustache dripping. ‘Come and visit any time you want, young Jack and Jaide. Adieu!’
With that and a brisk wave over his head, Rodeo Dave walked back along the drive to Watchward Lane. A steady chuckle was audible in his wake.
Despite her earlier misgivings, Jaide found herself wishing that she had been caught up in the wind, too. It did look like fun, and a lot easier than walking everywhere.
That reminded her of something from the night before – something about flying . . . or something like flying – which in turn reminded her that there was something else she had been trying to remember, something important . . .
‘Why is he called Rodeo Dave?’ asked Jack. ‘I thought you said Kleo’s owner ran a bookshop.’
‘I did. He does. But he didn’t always run a bookshop.’
‘Was he a cowboy before that?’ asked Jack, his imagination full of wild horses and lassoes.
‘I’ll let him tell the story when he’s ready,’ she said. ‘Now, I must confess I am curious to visit your school. I don’t believe I have been inside since your father was a student there.’
Grandma X turned to Kleo, who was peering warily out from the drawing room. ‘As for you,’ she said, ‘make yourself useful and catch me a mouse.’
The schoolteacher, Mr Carver, was a towering beanpole of a man, with a kindly smile and just a fringe of hair around his otherwise bald head. He smelled faintly of incense, wore his linen shirt untucked, and had plastic sandals on his feet.
‘Call me Heath,’ he told the twins, shaking each of their hands enthusiastically in turn. ‘I’m sure we’re going to be marvellous friends.’
‘Uh, thanks,’ said Jack. At the twins’ old school, the teachers wore suits and ties and were called ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ – the concept of teachers and students being friends would have been met with more than surprise on both sides. Jaide was struck dumb by the man’s overbearing good nature. She simply didn’t know what to say to this kind of adult.
Grandma X had done her hair up in a tight grey bun before leaving the house, and it had made her look quite severe – even before she saw the changes at the school, like the cushions on the floor instead of desks, and a motto on the blackboard in rainbow chalk that read Harmony, Sharing, Discovery.
‘My daughter-in-law would like to know what materials Jackaran and Jaidith will need for their first day, Mr Carver,’ said Grandma X.
‘Oh, do please call me Heath!’ exclaimed the schoolteacher. ‘And, of course, Mrs Shield, if you —’
‘I’m not Mrs Shield,’ said Grandma X.
‘Oh, I do apologise, I presumed . . . your son being one of our past top pupils, his name on the old honour board . . .’
‘My name is —’ said Grandma X, but whatever word she said was simply incomprehensible to the children’s minds, and obviously to Mr Carver’s, too, because he goggled at her for
a moment before resuming what seemed to be his trademark half smile.
‘Indeed, Mrs Xantho . . . er . . . Xeno . . . Xerxes . . . that is . . . ma’am . . . regarding materials, there’s no need to worry about anything like that. Here at the Stormhaven Innovative School of Portland, we help students through the educative process by encouraging them to study at their own pace, in their own special way.’
‘What exactly does that mean?’ asked Grandma X. Her lips had become surprisingly thin and her eyes had narrowed.
‘That we don’t treat our children like battery hens,’ explained Mr Carver. He clasped his hands together and leaned down to look directly into the twins’ faces. ‘Bring as much or as little as you want, Jack and Jaide, and we’ll make of you what you will.’
The jelly baby that Jaide had been chewing dissolved in her mouth, forgotten. ‘We don’t have to bring any books?’
