Nothing else happened. The boy played, Iron John watched him in silence. Yet there was an electric tension in the air that made it hard to breathe. I knew that something vitally important was about to happen, and when the boy reached again into the toy box I found myself leaning forward.
When he took the small golden ball from the box I realized that I had been holding my breath; I let it out with a gasp. Nor was I the only one for around me in the darkness there were echoes of my gasp.
The ball bounced and rolled and the boy laughed with pleasure.
Then he threw it once, harder than intended, and it rolled and rolled. Through the bars of the iron cage to stop at Iron John’s feet.
“My ball,” the boy said. “Give it back.”
“No,” Iron John said. “You must unlock this cage and let me out. Then you will have your golden ball back.”
“Locked,” the boy said.
Iron John nodded. “Of course. But you know how to find the key.”
The boy was shaking his head no as he backed away.
“Where is the key?” the man in the cage asked, but the boy was gone. “Where is the key? But you are only a boy. Perhaps you are too young to know where the key is. You must be older to find the key.”
There were murmurs of agreement from the invisible audience. It was very important to find the key, I knew that. The key . . .
It was then that I became aware that Iron John was looking at me. He was there in the cage; it wasn’t a holoflic. He looked at me and nodded.
“Jim, I’ll bet you know where the key is. You are no longer a boy. You can find it-now.”
His voice was a goad. I was on my feet, walking forward to the box of toys. My foot touched a block and it rattled aside.
“The key is in the toy box,” I said, but I didn’t believe the words even as I spoke them. I looked at Iron John who shook his head no.
“Not in the box.”
I looked down again and realized that I did know where the key was. I raised my eyes to Iron John and he nodded solemnly. “See you do know where the key to the cage is. You can let me out now, Jim. Because you know the key is there. Inside . . .”
“Teddy,” I said.
“Teddy. Not a real bear. Teddies are for children and you are no longer a child. Inside teddy.”
I reached out, blinked away the tears that were blurring my vision, seized up the toy, felt the soft fabric between my fingers. Heard a loud voice that slashed the silence.
“Not quite right, Jim, not right. The key is not there-it has to be under your mother’s pillow!”
Steengo had come forward to join me, had to shout the last words to be heard over the roar of voices.
“Mother doesn’t want her son to leave her. She hides the key to the Iron man’s cage under her pillow. The son must steal the key . . .”
The shouting voices drowned him out. Then it went dark in an instant and someone ran into me knocking me down. I tried to stand, to call out, but a hard foot walked on my hand. I shouted aloud at the sudden pain but my voice went unheard in the clamor. Someone else jarred into me and the darkness became even more intense.
“Jim-are you all right? Can you hear me?”
Floyd’s face was just above mine, looking worried. Was I all right? I didn’t know. I was in bed, must have been asleep. Why was he waking me?
Then I remembered and sat upright, grabbed his arms.
“The Veritorium! It got dark, something happened. I can’t remember-” ‘
“I’m not much help because I can’t either. It seemed like a good show. Hard to follow the plot but you were in it, do you remember that?” I nodded. “Seemed to be enjoying yourself, although you didn’t look happy about tearing the stuffing out of the teddy bear. That’s when Steengo joined you onstage and all the fun started. Or stopped. It all gets vague about that time.”