Edsel Grizzler by James Roy Page B

car.’
    â€˜We have the best kart track you’ve ever seen, just over that way, near the beach.’
    â€˜Adults don’t have to do homework.’
    â€˜In Verdada, we don’t believe in homework. Or school. Although we do have a very impressive library, and ridiculously fast computers, if learning is your thing.’
    â€˜No one tells adults what to do.’
    Richard shook his head. ‘Oh, now that’s not true,’ he said. ‘Adults are being told what to do all the time.’
    â€˜But they can watch whatever they like on TV, and no one tells them to go to bed.’
    Richard leaned forward. ‘That’s correct, but we don’t tell you to go to bed here either. You go to sleep when you’re tired. And while we’re talking about being tired, how does your father look when he gets home from work?’
    â€˜Exhaused, actually.’
    â€˜Any idea why?’
    â€˜Because he’s so tired after work, I suppose,’ Edsel suggested.
    â€˜Precisely.’ Richard sat back and folded his hands. ‘Sheer exhaustion. So, what’s so great about being a grown-up, do you think?’ He paused, while that thought sunk in. ‘Robert, if you’d like, we can do a bit of a trial session right now. What do you say?’
    â€˜Now? Right now?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜I don’t have to make a decision right away?’
    â€˜Oh, no. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.’
    Even as Richard spoke, a panel in the top of the chest was opening, and a platform smoothly rose out of it. Edsel watched this almost without reaction. The more weird and crazy things he saw, the less weird and crazy he found them. To be honest, he found this fact a little unsettling.
    On the platform were four green boxes, numbered from one to four, and a pencil.
    â€˜All right, what do I do?’
    â€˜Open the boxes in order,’ Richard replied. ‘Follow the instructions you find inside.’
    Carefully, Edsel took the lid from the first box and peeked in. Resting on top of an orange folder was a plain brown rubber band.
    â€˜There’s nothing in here except a folder.’
    â€˜Are you sure?’ Richard asked.
    â€˜Well, there’s a rubber band too, but there’s no … thing .’
    â€˜Read the document,’ said Richard, and Edsel opened the folder. A photograph of the rubber band was clipped to the top of a sheet of paper, which contained the details of the item.
    1 x rubber band, brown, good condition, non-perished. Last seen: second kitchen drawer, by Mrs Heather Noyce. Required for: securing bundle of recycled Christmas cards.
    â€˜So?’ asked Edsel.
    â€˜Read on,’ said Richard.
    Recommendations , it said partway down the page. Then there were a number of options with tick-boxes beside them:
    â–¡Â  Return to place last seen, pending steps retraced
    â–¡Â  Move to place least likely
    â–¡Â  Retain and store for later re-evaluation
    â–¡Â  Reassign to alternative location/owner
    â–¡Â  Remove completely and destroy
    â–¡Â  Other
    â€˜What do I do now?’ Edsel asked.
    â€˜Make your recommendation. It’s up to you to decide. Should Mrs Noyce get her rubber band back?’
    â€˜Yeah, I think so,’ said Edsel with a shrug. ‘She just wants to hold some old cards together. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’
    â€˜Then tick the box,’ Richard said, and Edsel picked up the pencil and placed a bold tick next to Return to place last seen.
    â€˜Good. Number Two,’ said Richard.
    â€˜That was easy,’ Edsel commented as he opened the second box.
    â€˜Yes, the first one usually is.’
    The second box contained a pink blanket, folded neatly on top of its orange folder. As Edsel lifted the blanket out, he saw that it was slightly frayed along one edge. Opening the folder, he read that the blanket belonged to a little girl called Maddie.