“You can bait me, fake me / But I keep on comin' at ya / Just break me, shake me / I ain't movin' backwards / Shake me, take me, yeah I keep goin' 'til I hold you in checkmate once more…” From: "Checkmate..." (N Hendryx); Dusty Springfield, It Begins Again, 1978.
Horner opened his eyes and instinctively knew it; Skin-Time was finally over and done with. He had shed his skin and was now once more in human form! No more scratchy scales like autumn leaves – just fresh pink skin…
A new Horner…
He stretched his hands; flexed his arms, wriggled his toes. He’d expected things to feel different this time; expected some trouble. Expected to be some half human/half amphibian mutant hybrid – but no – he felt fine and healthy… Except…
There was no-one in the room – nobody was close by, it appeared. Slowly Horner sat up straight and dangled his legs over the side of the bed. His legs hung down and dangled just short of the floor; his modesty draped in a loose-fitting hospital gown.
He was shorter than he had been…
“Looks like I’m going to have to wear stilts…,” he teased himself, “although that’ll be no use if I’m being pursued by mad witches – I’ll never get away!”
It was only as he let his gown slip to the floor in a sudden urge to see quite what his finished appearance was, that he fully understood what had happened to him…
“Well this is different…!” he murmured to himself, shocked at first, but gradually getting used to his new form. “Wait until Katrina sees this!” he chuckled.
**
Meanwhile, down at the hospital reception, Katrina and Simon had arrived, and were trying to find out where Horner was ensconced. They were not, however, having much luck – in fact, they were meeting with active objections from the hospital staff.
The lady on the desk was an old woman by the name of Mavis, and she was assisted by an equally elderly lady called Edie. “They must be at least 120 years old each!” growled Simon as they stood at the desk and waited to be served.
Katrina raised an eyebrow. “Older, possibly!” she observed. “I’m 137 and I don’t look half as addled as these two do!”
Simon frowned. He wasn’t so sure. “Are you sure you’re only 137, Katrina?” he asked. “You look at least twice that age!”
It wasn’t exactly a very flattering thing to say to a lady; but for Katrina, to be considered ugly was quite definitely a compliment, and she smiled inwardly. Just then, Edie the desk receptionist came across to them carrying a clipboard. “Sorry dears!” she croaked, with a certain relish that suggested that she was anything but sorry, “I’m afraid Mr. Horner isn’t allowed to receive visitors at the moment….”
“Why ever not?” Simon exclaimed crossly and added a disapproving growl for good measure.
“Somebody has been trying to kill him, that’s why, dear,” the lady named Mavis replied curtly, turning from her filing work and eyeing them suspiciously.
Katrina looked as if she was about to cast a spell on the two women, but Simon held her back. “Well yes! We’re painfully aware that someone has committed this appalling crime, dear lady, and that’s why we’re here – to ensure our friend is okay!”
Edie put her clipboard back beneath the counter and sat down next to her co-worker. “Well sir, I’m not sure who you are – but the thing is…”
Mavis took over at this point. “The thing is that your companion here exactly meets the description of the lady who has been trying to kill the patient…”
Simon visibly did a double take at hearing this. “Katrina, is this true dear – or do you have an identical, evil twin!?” he whispered, suddenly wondering if he actually had the full story.
“I did have a sister once…” she replied, “but not anymore.” This didn’t really help answer his question, but she refused to elaborate further, and merely scowled a terrible scowl that put the yeti right in his place.
“Sorry…” he mouthed, and then stepped forward to the reception desk again. “My dear ladies, I’m quite sorry, I realise we’re causing you an inconvenience,” he apologized. “We’ll come back another time”.
“Don’t bother!” snapped back Mavis, “Not unless you come back without her!” she added, before returning to her filing.
“Quite! Now would you kindly leave!” said Edie, giving a curt little smile and wandering off in search of a cup of tea.
Much to Simon’s amusement, the expression on Katrina’s face had turned from a scowl to a look of fuming rage – but before the witch could say anything, the handsome yeti had raised a claw to his lips to urge her to be quiet.
“Wait…” he advised quietly, guiding her away from the desk so that it appeared that they had given in. Once the women had returned to going about their business, however, he bid Katrina to stand by the candy machine and remain quiet whilst he tiptoed back to the desk – quite a feat in itself for a yeti of his size. Katrina watched with dawning pride as the great shaggy beast simply cast a long furry arm over the reception desk and reached beneath the counter. He quickly picked up the clipboard Edie had looked at, which held the hospital’s confidential patient list. Speedily he flipped through the pages, and then smiled, replaced the clipboard, and tiptoed silently back to Katrina.
“Drew Horner – Floor 2, Ward 7, Room B!” he chuckled. “There you go, dear – easy when you know how!!”
“Oh Simon!” cackled Katrina, rather at a loss for words as she took his furry arm and led him towards the lift. “Floor 2, you say?” she smiled, and pressed the button. “Shall we go!?”
**
It was literally only a couple of minutes later that Tula reached the hospital. She’d been surprised how quickly she’d made it there; knowing the roads were horribly congested at that time of day, she’d opted to try hitching a ride on a passing badger. The journey had actually been surprisingly smooth, and she’d never before realised that badgers gave such good piggybacks, let alone could run so fast! She entered the hospital nervously, slightly uncertain what the protocol for such a visit was. However, once she reached reception, she found much to her surprise that she recognized the two old ladies behind the desk as being friends of her Aunt Fatima.
“Mavis! Edie! I didn’t know you two worked here…”
“Ah yes, Tula dear!” beamed Edie, pleasantly surprised to see her. “Well – only two afternoons a week. We’re here undercover, it’s all very hush-hush!” she continued, causing Mavis to raise a finger to silence her indiscreet friend. Still, Tula got the message and didn’t need to probe the issue further – she knew that the two ladies had long been involved in all sorts of Top Secret Government work.
“Here to see Horner, are you, dear?” enquired Mavis, pushing across a piece of paper with his whereabouts transcribed on it in invisible ink. “We have to be careful; certain undesirables are after these details. We’re only able to pass it over to people we know can be trusted – and even then, only in a covert manner! You’ll need to hold the paper up to the light!” she added, seeing Tula scrutinising the blank page with a perplexed look.
“Undesirables…?” enquired Tula nervously, concerned at the thought that there could be another attempt on Horner’s life.
“You’re lucky we don’t blindfold you!” Edie interrupted.
Tula nodded, feeling a little confused, but she thanked the ladies and hurried towards the lift; holding the paper up to one of the fluorescent strips as she waited for the lift to arrive; Floor 2, Ward 7, Room B…
Once in the lift, Tula soon wished that she had simply taken the stairs. Not only was the lift incredibly slow, but the only other passenger was also incredibly strange. For a start, he was almost eight foot tall and as skinny as a runner bean. He wore an outfit that could best be described as being a cross between the clothes of a Viking and a cheerleader – topped off by the sort of hat a bishop might wear, which added another foot to his height. The hat looked even more preposterous as it was badly squashed, the lift being only about eight and a half feet tall.
Tula tried not to make eye contact. She was definitely not in the mood for conversation. However, after five minutes had passed, in which time they still hadn’t managed to reach the 2nd floor, she decided that she really had to ask a question of the man.
“Excuse me…” she began nervously. “Do you know if the list is usually this slow, or do you think it’s stuck?”
The absurdly tall man looked up from where he had apparently been admiring his toenails. “It’s always as slow as this…” he replied, in a tone of voice that can be best be described as funereal. “You caught the slow lift…,” he added. “There’s a slow lift and a fast lift, and you happened to catch the slow one…” he continued matter-of-factly. “I mean, I personally always get the slow lift…,” he continued slowly, “because I like to take my time…”
Tula nodded politely. “I see…” she sighed and then asked. “Are you visiting someone here?”
The dull-sounding man shook his head and began picking his nose rather too earnestly for Tula’s liking. “Oh, no…” he replied, “I’m a patient,” he explained. “They let me wander about ‘cos it does me good – but the doctor has told me to take things slowly, which is why I always take the slow lift. The doctor said that even the slightest bit of fast or exciting living might well kill me…,” he said, breaking off from his dirge to nod thoughtfully at Tula. “Between you and me, I’m a very sick man. I have been diagnosed with terminal dullness,” he said, with the slightest hint of a proud flourish in his tone, “and that, I’m afraid – although not contagious and in no way dangerous to you – might very soon be the death of me, I fear!”
**
Meanwhile, up on Floor 2 – having caught the fast lift – Katrina and Simon had managed to find their way to Ward 7, Room B with very little trouble at all.
"Listen Simon…” began Katrina, once they had found their way to the door marked D. HORNER, “I’m so grateful to you for coming all this way with me – but if you want to leave me here then I will quite understand… You’ve done quite enough to help me as it is; we can catch up when I get back to my flat?”
Simon gave her a look that suggested he thought her to be undoubtedly pretty mad. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear lady!” he replied curtly, “I didn’t come all this way to see you walk into the lion’s den on your own! Now knock on the door and announce our presence before you have second thoughts!” he demanded.
Katrina sighed – strangely enough, she was feeling a little nervous at this point. She hadn’t really planned quite what she was going to do next, and was a little frozen by indecision.
Simon knocked on the door for her…
Silence.
Simon knocked again and this time they received a reply:
“Come in!”
Simon stood back, indicating that Katrina should go in first, which after a moment’s pause she did, turning the handle and allowing the door to swing wide open.
“Oh… I’m sorry…,” she gasped. The words, quite unfamiliar to a habitually rude witch such as Katrina, slipped from her lips almost automatically. She had stepped into the room only to find herself facing a rather ravishing blonde woman wearing a seductive smile and exposing her quite hypnotic bosoms beneath a loosely wrapped pale pink dressing gown. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, taking an embarrassed step backward, “we must have the wrong room…”
Katrina was turning to leave, pushing Simon out with her, when the woman laughed. “Where are you going, Katrina!?” she called. “How lovely it is to see you here! But, I suppose it’s only right you should come and check up on me, since it was you who put me here in the first place! I’m sorry to disappoint you, but as you’ll see, I’m still very much alive!”
Simon could see the blood draining from Katrina’s face as she turned back to the blonde woman, her mouth gaping. “HORNER!” she gasped. “HORNER, IS THAT YOU!?”
The woman smiled and pouted her lips. “Yes, darling,” she replied playfully, “it’s me! How d’you like the new look?”
How will Katrina cope with the fact that Horner is now a luscious lovely? Will Simon ask for beauty tips? Can Tula escape from a fate worse than boredom or will she be trapped in the lift forever?
Find out in the next thigh-slapping instalment of Dusty Acres – an everyday story of weirdoes, loonies and other animals…
Mood music for this episode: "Checkmate..." Dusty Springfield, It Begins Again, 1978.
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