The group of four paused for a moment at the bridge that spanned the deep, fast current that was the Water of Sound Doctrine and that marked the boundary of the city of Aletheia. They leaned over the stone parapet and looked into the water that ran so swiftly beneath them. There were rainbow colours and sparkles and swirls and a thousand different diamonds sparkling in it even in the greyness of dawn.
“No one knows how deep it is,” said Hezekiah.
“No one has ever managed to plumb the depths of the water,” explained Hugo.
“No one can ever drink too much of it,” added Henrietta.
They were all carrying water bottles from the Wallops’ apartment. Jack didn’t like to think what would happen if they ran out. To drink anything but the crystal water that now flowed beneath them seemed unthinkable.
Nothing remarkable happened when they stepped off the bridge and started down the gently sloping Apathy Road into Err. The dawn was still grey and there were patches of trees and hedges and thickets along the side of the road. The first person that they saw was a man setting up the outdoor bargain tables at the Recycle Centre not far from Aletheia. He was putting books into piles and setting out DVDs and posters and other things on the tables for sale or exchange.
“Good morning,” said Hugo politely.
“Good morning, young man!” the man said, stopping what he was doing. “You’re very early customers!” He was a cheerful man with a big head, lots of chins, and an enormous stomach.
“Well, actually,” said Hugo, “we’re not really customers.”
“Never mind,” said the man. “I’m afraid I couldn’t really give you too much in exchange for your Bibles anyway; there’s really not much market for the old fashioned ones these days. People are far more interested in books that they can really understand; books that can really help them with the issues of life, you see?”
“No,” said Hugo.
“The Bible can really help them!” said Henrietta.
The man smiled. “Ah, loyal Aletheians,” he said. “Well, I doubt there’s much I can tempt you with here!”
“No, thank you,” said Hugo.
“Is that man a Christian?” Jack whispered to Hezekiah. The two smaller boys drew aside and examined the old fashioned Bibles on the ‘Buy One Get Two Free’ table.
“He might be,” said Hezekiah. “I know some Christians live in Err, I think I’ve heard it’s because they don’t want the whole truth of the Bible, just the bits they like the best, you know?”
The Recycle Centre man was talking to Hugo and Henrietta as he set out another box of books which had ‘About Self’ stamped on the outside of the box. “Believe it or not, you’re not my first callers today!” he said. “There was another boy who came by when I was having my morning coffee. Knocked on the door, he did, I nearly spilt my coffee! I don’t usually get customers come by before light but this boy seemed to like the look of my poster advertising the ‘Get-Rich-Quick’ schemes and had a look at some books and things.”
“That’ll be Barmy!” said Henrietta.
“Barmy?” said the man. “I don’t think that was his name.”
“Definitely Barmy,” agreed Hugo.
“Anyway, he exchanged some chocolate cake he had for a couple of things…” the man said.
“The little thief!” exclaimed Henrietta.
The man didn’t seem to understand what Henrietta meant.
“Mind you,” the man said, “I don’t think the chocolate cake will last long; it doesn’t have the right preservatives in it.”
“Well! Of all the…!” began Henrietta.
Hugo placed a firm hand on her arm.
“He’s lucky he got away with the book and DVD he wanted before I found out the cake was already sinking in the middle!” the man said.
“It’s made with Pray-Always farmland ingredients!” Henrietta said indignantly. “It’ll never last out here!”
“You may be right,” the man said. “It needs more artificial preservatives in it. Well, I’ll eat it with my coffee before it’s wasted!”
Hugo restrained his sister from insisting on the return of Mrs Wallop’s chocolate cake that Timmy had pilfered from their kitchen. “Let him have it, Henry,” he murmured as the man was distracted straightening some DVDs.
“It’s not as if he needs it!” protested Henrietta as they said goodbye and walked away. “Did you see the size of his tummy?!”
Hezekiah giggled.
“I really don’t know,” continued Henrietta as they walked on down the road, “I don’t know whether I’ll punch Barmy or preach at him when I see him! Stealing food from the kitchen indeed! I thought there weren’t many leftovers when I grabbed some food for us! You’re really very good not to tell tales about what happened in the kitchen, Zek,” she continued to her youngest brother, “but Barmy Bats is in deep trouble when I see him!”
“We’re supposed to be helping him, Henry,” said Hugo.
Henrietta sighed. “Well, once he’s apologised I suppose we’ll help him too,” she said.
The further they walked the higher the sun rose and the thicker and heavier the air became. On Apathy Road there was nothing of the cool, crystal clarity of the air around the cross in Aletheia, but the odd thing was that the helmets that they wore had a soothing effect in the heat. It was as if the helmet carried with it some of the refreshing air which was always around the cross high on the hill now behind them. There were still trees and shrubs and hedges lining the road. In one prickly thicket Jack thought he saw a mysterious shadow. It was the merest hint of something that wasn’t quite nothing hidden behind thick leaves at the side of the road. It didn’t seem possible that it was actually something real; it didn’t seem possible that the glittering eyes he saw were watching them and that it could be a real, live Snare.
“I think I saw it too!” agreed Hezekiah. “Is it a Snare? That’s the first real Snare I’ve ever seen! Do you think it really could be…?” His hand was tightly clutching his Bible.
“I think it’s just normal shadows, Zek,” said Henrietta.
“We’re fine as long as we keep our armour on,” said Hugo.
But Jack saw both of the twins looking furtively around them and he wondered if Hugo and Henrietta were really as certain as they seemed.
After a while they all got used to shadows and the grey dawn turned steadily to the light of day. The air was warm, and the sun began to rise, beckoning the start of another hot, summer day. All was still and safe and tranquil. There was no danger in sight.
They heard the noise of music and people before they turned the final corner on Apathy Road and came to Wishy-Washy. The air had grown so warm and thick that there was a haze of cloud hanging over the town. It made everything seem distant and colourless, as if someone had poured a bucket of water over Wishy-Washy and all the colours in the buildings and the people had run thin and mostly been washed away. On the edge of the town, in a big open field by the side of Apathy Road, there was the Wishy-Washy Fair. ‘Welcome!’ declared a big sign, and, ‘Fair for Fundraising for Good and Desirable Causes’ another said. It wasn’t exactly clear what the Fair supported but it sounded nice enough.
It was still early in the morning when they arrived at the Fair but behind the layers of misty cloud the sun was already creeping up in the sky. Hugo was wondering how on earth they would accomplish their mission and return to the Wallops’ apartment without their parents missing them. He was beginning to anticipate the frustrating adult type questions that would inevitably ensue and to which they might not, after all, have an acceptable answer. Henrietta was still optimistic about their parents’ attitude towards the mission they had undertaken, and besides, she reasoned, they were here now, they would have to make the most of it. They made their way into the Fair and started exploring the part of Wishy-Washy Fair which was closest to them, silently dismayed at its size and how many rows of tents and stalls and marquees and even caravans and animal enclosures that there were. There were refreshment stalls too and, since they had imprudently demolished the remainder of their picnic on first arrival at Wishy-Washy, they looked with great temptation at the ice-cream and hot dogs and burgers and chips and other tantalising treats that were being set up as they wandered around.
“How will we find Timmy?” asked Hezekiah. He was not overly concerned with this problem since he was certain one of the twins had an answer that wasn’t apparent to him. Both he and Jack were far more anxious about what they would eat.
“We just keep looking,” said Henrietta.
And wearily, grimly, with increasing impatience and hunger, they looked.
Jack and Hezekiah began to flag by the time they considered it must be lunchtime. Hugo was increasingly gloomy about their prospects of coming out of the whole venture with even the smallest credit, and Henrietta was doggedly determined to prove they were right in coming and by hook or by crook still hoped to find Timmy.
And it was in this state that they found Mr and Mrs Weighty.
Actually Mr and Mrs Weighty were not at all hard to find. They had a stall at the fair which was bright and cheery and stood out through the hazy air as if it had not suffered the same fate as the rest of Wishy-Washy. Whoever might have washed the colour away from Wishy-Washy had certainly not managed to rinse the ‘Whole Truth’ stall that Moore and Truly Weighty ran. They appeared to be the only undiluted colour in the whole place and the four weary travellers were drawn to the stall with some relief.
A huge, burly man with a massive bushy beard and a bright orange bowtie was arranging Bibles and leaflets on the stall. He turned quickly when he heard Hezekiah’s exclamation of “Look, Hugo – Bibles!”
“Ah! The wanderers from Aletheia!” the big man said with an encouraging smile. He sounded as if he knew them. “Well, this is very nice! Very nice indeed! Did they send you with more Bibles and bottled Water of Sound Doctrine and the supplies of leaflets that I asked for? No…?” he laughed heartily, a deep, contagious, ringing laugh. “I’m only teasing,” he said. “I can see you haven’t come with much!” he clapped Hugo on the back. “Now, you all come in for a nice hot breakfast,” he said. “And then we’ll see what we can do!”
“I thought it was lunchtime!” Hezekiah said candidly, and Mr Weighty chuckled again.
“I’m glad you’re found,” he said. “You saved me coming to search for you!”
They all sat around the ample camp table that Mrs Weighty had in a private part of the big tent which was their stall. Mr and Mrs Weighty, who were the Outpost Rescuers in the part of Err where Wishy-Washy was, explained that they had received word from the Wallops in Aletheia that the children were on their way to the Fair.
“Oh,” groaned Hugo.
“Well, at least we left them that note, Hugo,” said Henrietta. “They must be pleased about that!”
Jack wondered how people received word over a distance in Aletheia. “Do you have telephones?” he asked, trying to recall whether he had seen such a thing in the Wallops’ apartment.
“Telephone?” echoed Mr Weighty, sounding puzzled.
“He’s from a different country,” said Hezekiah.
“Ah,” said Mr Weighty. “Well, young man,” he explained, “here we have our Mission Detector system which connects all the Outpost Rescuers in Err with the folk in Aletheia.”
“Oh,” said Jack. He didn’t think it polite to tell Mr Weighty he had no idea what he was talking about.
Hugo and Henrietta were pretty mortified that the Weightys, who were busy Christian workers trying to help people in Err, had been notified of their disappearance, and even Henrietta was no longer optimistic that their original plan might be viewed with approval.
“They’ll only see the bad bits,” she said sadly. “They only ever see the bits that go wrong!”
Hezekiah was less concerned about the fallout from their adventure. His most pressing concern, which was their risk of starving in Err or eating the wrong food, had happily passed. He wondered what would have happened if he had succumbed to the ice-cream he had found tempting at the Fair. Would it have made him do dreadful, unchristian-type things?
“It’s not a good idea,” said Mr Weighty, when Hezekiah asked him about it. “Because basically what you take in from around here has usually been watered down or added to or altered in some way, and so it will start to affect your appreciation of the Truth. So if you’re eating food that isn’t watered by the Water of Sound Doctrine and grown on the Pray-Always farms, then you will begin to get a taste for things that aren’t quite what the Bible says. It might be small things to start with, but it’s wise to avoid anything that will affect your appreciation of the whole Truth of the Bible. Do you see?”
Hezekiah wasn’t certain he did see exactly what Mr Weighty meant but he gave a sort-of nod quite politely. It didn’t sound quite as bad as he feared but he was still very glad they had the food that the Weightys had lavishly provided.
“Why is everything so washed out around here?” asked Jack. “I don’t think there’s much colour at all, except for here of course.”
“Well,” said Mr Weighty, “it’s really because people have watered down everything. There are Christians here who have watered down the Truth of the Bible or just chosen the bits they like and so have become all watery and wishy-washy about what they believe. And there are people who aren’t Christians who don’t mind some bits of the Bible but sadly have never grasped the whole Truth and come to the Lord Jesus to be saved. That’s why everything has become misty and unclear, because that’s what these people are. Does that help?”
Jack nodded. It was an intriguing idea: that places became like the people who lived there. He wondered what his own village would look like if it imitated what the people were on the inside.
“You must be careful to stick to the whole, balanced Truth of the Bible,” said Mr Weighty, “then you can be exactly what God wants you to be.”
Mr and Mrs Weighty were altogether very kind to them and listened seriously to their account of the runaway Timmy and their mission to find him. They didn’t say obvious, adult things, like the fact that they really should have woken their parents when they realised Timmy was missing. They didn’t lecture them on the rule about always going into Err accompanied by a mature Christian. They didn’t even mention the fact that they should have notified the official Rescuer on duty of the missing Timmy and left the rescue to the people who knew how to do these things properly. Instead they plied the hungry travellers with hot buttered toast, and sausages and eggs cooked on Mrs Weighty’s special camp stove.
“Your brother Harold is coming to get you later today,” Mr Weighty informed them when they had eaten so much they felt they could burst at the seams.
“Oh!” said Henrietta, pleased.
“At least it’s Harold,” said Hugo. Their oldest brother might well say more than Mr Weighty on the subject of their ill-conceived morning journey, but Harold was pretty understanding too.
“Does that mean we get to stay at the Fair until Harold comes?” asked Henrietta.
Mr Weighty nodded. “And stay out of trouble too, we hope!” he said with a smile.
Jack and Hezekiah could hardly keep their eyes open after their big breakfast with the Weightys. They had, after all, been up since the small, dark hours of the night. Mrs Weighty made the boys a comfy bed with blankets and rugs in the corner of the private bit of the tent.
And before the sun was at its highest in the sky, the two boys were sound asleep.