Mr Wallop finished securing the Entry to Aletheia office and they all began to walk up the hill towards the centre of the city of Aletheia where the Wallops had their home. Timmy was preoccupied and didn’t say much. Jack saw Timmy constantly scanning the sky around him. Timmy was searching for an elusive glint of golden money flying through the air and he hardly seemed to see the sights of the city at all.
The wide road seemed to grow steeper with every step they took upwards, and massive, ornate stone buildings towered impressively above them. There was a huge fortress with stone columns and towers, at the top of which was a flag showing a white cross. The fortress looked very strong and secure.
“That’s the Academy of Soldiers-of-the-Cross,” explained Mr Wallop. “My oldest son, Harold, is training to be a Rescuer there.”
“A Rescuer of what?” asked Timmy, stopping his eager search of the sky and looking momentarily interested in the fortress.
“A Rescuer of those who are astray,” said Mr Wallop.
“I expect they’re like Police,” Timmy said to Jack. “They probably give people directions when they get lost and stuff.”
Mr Wallop didn’t comment on Timmy’s conclusion about Rescuers but Jack didn’t think that Timmy could be right at all. Jack was watching the people that were coming and going to the Academy of Soldiers-of-the-Cross, and to his astonishment there were people among them actually wearing armour!
“I don’t think they look like Police,” said Jack. “They’re more like soldiers, like warriors actually. Look at their armour!”
“Armour!” echoed Timmy. “What armour?”
“I expect they’re going out into Err on missions, or else returning,” explained Mr Wallop. “That’s why they’ll be wearing their armour.”
“There is no armour!” said Timmy.
“But…” began Jack.
“He can’t see it,” said Herbert.
“Can’t see it…!” spluttered Timmy.
“Only Christians can see another Christian wearing the armour of God5,” explained Herbert. “Apart from our weapon the Bible of course, that’s the exception. Anyone can see the Bible.”
“Oh, of course,” said Timmy sarcastically. “Anyone can see the Bible!”
“Real armour,” said Jack in awe.
“For real enemies,” said Mr Wallop soberly.
“And what kind of weapon is a Bible anyway?” scoffed Timmy.
“The Bible is the sword of the Spirit which is the Word of God6,” said Mr Wallop. “But don’t worry,” he added to Timmy, “there’s plenty that we can teach you during your time with us to help you understand what it means to become a Christian.”
“I am…” began Timmy indignantly, but he was interrupted by Mr Wallop greeting two men who stood at the side of the road outside of the Academy.
“Captain Steadfast!” said Mr Wallop, and he shook hands with a tall man in armour who looked every inch a Captain.
“A Captain!” said Timmy, but he didn’t sound so doubtful; even if Timmy could not see his armour, it was clear that he was impressed by the big man.
Captain Steadfast looked keenly at the two boys.
“Captain Ready Steadfast is the Deputy Chief Rescuer of Err,” said Mr Wallop.
It all sounded most impressive and even Timmy did not mock the title which really meant nothing to him or Jack at all.
“This is Mr Wonky Dollar,” said Captain Steadfast, and he drew forward the man next to him. Mr Dollar appeared very odd beside the tall, smart Captain. He was a shabby man, he stooped towards the ground, and he shuffled his feet as if he was unhappy to be there and anxious to get away.
“We’ve been trying to persuade Mr Dollar to stay a while longer in Aletheia,” said Captain Steadfast.
“I’ve been here quite long enough,” said Wonky Dollar. “I was told it would benefit me but there are no opportunities for me here, and it seems money flies away as easily here as anywhere else! I lost one Erona earlier when I was carrying out an experiment with my new treasure boxes!” and when he put his hands into his pockets there were strange jangling and clanking noises there.
Captain Steadfast shook his head. “It isn’t money that can benefit you here, Wonky,” he said, but Mr Dollar interrupted.
“I’ve heard all I want to about what Aletheia can do for me,” he said, “and now I must be on my way to try my fortunes elsewhere!”
“It isn’t Aletheia that can help you as such,” said Mr Wallop, “although Aletheia is the place that stands for the Truth. But it’s the message of the cross that is the answer. Because of what the Lord Jesus has done there, anyone who trusts in Him…”
But Mr Dollar didn’t want to know, and when he could, he drew closer to the two boys and away from the others as Mr Wallop and Herbert and Captain Steadfast talked together.
“Did you say you lost a small coin earlier?” asked Timmy, eyeing Mr Dollar with interest.
Mr Dollar nodded. “I was experimenting with ways of slowing down the flight of riches,” he said. “I’m sure it can be done, and one day I’ll be the one who finds out how to clip their wings!”
“I found your coin!” exclaimed Timmy. He looked at Mr Dollar as if he was sensing a sudden opportunity. He wasn’t impressed with Wonky Dollar’s appearance, but he was more than interested in his lost riches.
“Did you catch it again?” asked Mr Dollar. “It was only a one Erona piece but if you caught it then it means I might have slowed its flight after all!”
“Yes,” said Timmy, “I caught it but then it flew away again.”
“A pity,” said Mr Dollar, “but still, that’s an improvement. It means that they can be caught!”
Jack looked at Mr Dollar with his scruffy clothes and frayed, patched jacket (which wasn’t even as good as the jacket that Grandad wore for feeding the cows!). Whatever Mr Dollar was inventing to catch and keep his riches, it hadn’t worked yet. Did all his riches just keep flying away?
“Do you have anything you’d like to invest?” Mr Dollar asked the two boys with a hasty, concerned glance at Captain Steadfast whom he evidently didn’t want to overhear him. “What do you have in your pockets?”
Timmy hesitated. He was very careful with his money even though he generally had a lot of it, but he was reluctant to share it with this scruffy stranger. “I might have some ideas for helping you catch money,” he said cautiously.
Mr Dollar did not immediately attend to Timmy. He was looking eagerly at the contents of Jack’s pockets as Jack removed his spy watch, a five pence piece, and a red piece of lego. The piece of paper was gone. Herbert had kept that for Jack’s ‘Aletheia File’. And the biscuit crumbs must have disappeared the last time he emptied his pockets.
Mr Dollar looked with some mistrust at the watch and the small five pence piece. Then he picked up the piece of lego and his eyes gleamed. “Curious,” he said examining it closely, “very curious! I wonder… Do you mind if I borrow this, young man?”
“It’s not exactly money,” said Jack. “I don’t think it will make you rich.”
“It’s a piece of lego!” said Timmy. “It’s nothing at all!”
But Mr Dollar shook his head in a most determined way. “If you’ll lend this to me,” he said, “I’ll turn it into gold!”
Jack was extremely doubtful but he felt very sorry for Mr Dollar. “You can have it if you want,” he said, and watched Mr Dollar hastily secure the piece of lego with locks and chains in one of his many clanking treasure boxes.
Timmy was looking at Mr Dollar in disbelief. “Is there a way of turning…umm, completely normal things into gold?” he asked in a hushed tone. He drew closer to Mr Dollar, trying to avoid the others overhearing his whispered discussion with him.
Jack was alarmed. He was glad that Timmy had calmed down and was inclined to be reasonable about their adventure, but he didn’t think things were going in the right direction with Timmy taking up with someone like Mr Wonky Dollar. He tried to hear what they were saying, tried to catch Mr Wallop’s or Herbert’s eye where they stood talking with Captain Steadfast. Whatever the murmured exchange between Timmy and Wonky Dollar involved it did not seem likely that it would lead to Timmy being helped to see his own need of being saved and becoming a Christian.
Uneasily Jack watched as Mr Dollar at last hastened away, slipping through the lengthening shadows, taking the easy slope downwards and out of the city of Aletheia, into the land of Err.
They made one further stop on their journey through the city to the Wallops’ home. Mr Wallop announced that he thought they had time to stop and see someone he referred to as ‘Grandpa Able’. They left the crowded buildings of the city behind them and crossed neat, lush parkland to the large Rest Home which was part of the Run-the-Race Retirement Complex. Herbert explained that Grandpa Able was Mr Wallop’s Grandpa, which Jack thought might make him hundreds of years old. But when they saw him, in a large lounge where lots of older people sat in big, comfy armchairs, Grandpa Able appeared to be surprisingly hearty and robust. He was sat with another man, and the two old men appeared to be carving small sticks.
“That’s Mr Reuben Duffle,” said Herbert. “He’s Grandpa Able’s best friend.”
“He looks dead,” Timmy said bluntly.
Mr Wallop frowned warningly at Timmy, but there was some truth in Timmy’s assessment of old Mr Duffle. He was a tiny, wizened, faded old man who appeared to be held together only by the thick belt that bunched his trousers together at his waist. Otherwise it seemed he might blow away on the next fresh breeze and disintegrate entirely.
“Mr Duffle is a great man,” said Mr Wallop as they drew closer to the two old men.
Mr Duffle did not look great at all but Mr Wallop greeted him with the utmost respect.
“I think he means an old man not a great man!” Timmy whispered to Jack.
Mr Wallop introduced the two boys.
“He looks barmy!” whispered Timmy.
“Barmy?” quavered Mr Duffle. “They call the boy Barmy, do they? Well I never!”
“Bats!” Timmy whispered indignantly to Jack.
“Barmy Bats, is it?” said Mr Duffle. “Strange sort of name, but then they come from a strange place, don’t they?”
Timmy was speechless with indignation and Jack squashed the sudden urge to laugh and moved further away from Timmy and stood out of earshot of Timmy’s whispers.
“Have you ever been to a place called Grandad’s Sheds, Mr Duffle?” asked Mr Wallop.
“I went to Grandad’s Sheds once for a holiday,” said Mr Duffle in his feeble, quavering voice. He peered closely at Jack as if he might actually know him.
“Did you?” Jack stared back at him.
“Many years ago,” said the old man. “Many, many years…”
He trailed off, his faded eyes seeing things that none of the others could see. Jack didn’t know what to think. He was almost positive that Mr Duffle had not been to Grandad’s sheds on holiday. But in Aletheia, well, he supposed that anything might happen. And besides, hadn’t it been Grandad that had written that letter about Jack going to Aletheia? Perhaps Grandad knew old Mr Duffle…
Jack looked at Mr Duffle curiously. In one hand he was clutching a handful of small sticks and twigs on which he had made carvings. He solemnly handed one to Jack without seeming to know what he was doing.
Timmy sniggered and then protested as Mr Wallop’s large hand settled tightly on his shoulder, and Timmy received his own gift of a small carved stick in sullen silence.
Jack put his carved stick in his pocket.
“Silly old duffer!” muttered Timmy as he freed himself from Mr Wallop’s restraining hand and they departed. He threw the small stick he had received from Mr Duffle onto the grass at the side of the road. “Barmy!” he said.
“Barmy Bats,” said Herbert cheerfully. “You know, I think that name suits you, Timmy!”
Herbert was taller than Timmy and Timmy ignored him. Jack stooped and picked up the twig that Timmy had thrown away. He put it in his other pocket. He wasn’t sure why he picked it up, except that Mr Duffle seemed to think that it was of value and somehow it didn’t seem right to throw it away.
“Mr Duffle was the Chief Rescuer in Err many years ago,” said Mr Wallop. “He faced dangers and fought terrible things and helped people back to the cross in Aletheia from the most awful places. And now Mr Duffle is a man of prayer. He’s still a warrior in his own way.”
“We say prayers in church,” said Timmy.
“The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much7,” Mr Wallop quoted from the Bible.
And Jack knew that Mr Wallop meant that that was how Mr Duffle prayed.
Mr Wallop hurried them homewards as shadows began to lengthen in Aletheia and the hot afternoon sun began to lower in the sky. He was consulting his watch as they rounded the final corner and confronted the large, square, apartment block called ‘Foundation-of-Faith Apartments.’
“Here we are! Home at last!” said Herbert, while Mr Wallop put his watch back into his pocket and murmured:
“Now I’m for it. We’re late for dinner!”
