Thrumps politely blocked his view and firmly shut the door, the catch locked automatically.
It was very unusual to get any kind of post anywhere they went and so this was very suspicious. He dubiously turned it over and over but there was no return address, or any indication as to the sender. Thrumps set it aside on his desk next to the steaming cup of coffee that had materialised. Taking a quick sip, he put it down again, linked his hands together and rested his chin on them. This was going to require some serious thinking.
The Book of Un-reality quivered and flipped itself open.
The Red Puzzle … was scrawled at the top of the page in English but then what looked like instructions were written in Chinese. He’d thought no one was allowed to put anything in it without his say-so, but it wasn’t in his handwriting. Maybe there was a translation dictionary on the bookshelf. There wasn’t. Usually when Thrumps needed something, it was automatically available, so this was getting odder by the minute.
The shop looked like a typical Chinese takeaway. All white, a high counter with tacky oriental decorations and a huge plastic menu on the back wall. The sign on the window read … (Shangchang Waimai)
“Shun-ker why my” Thrumps said aloud. He had no idea what it meant, but the opening hours were clear enough: 9pm to midnight.
A young girl bustled past carrying a tray of fortune cookies.
“For the customers,” she said without missing a step as she placed them carefully on the counter. She was so tiny that she had to stand on a box to be able to see over the top.
“Ummm …” Thrumps began. “Who are you?”
“Laia,” she said. “I am here to make sure everything goes right.” Her smile was hypnotic.
What does the sign say?”
“The Emporium Takeaway.”
“But we don’t have a kitchen.”
She laughed. “We don’t need one.”
Thumps waited for her to explain, but she didn’t so he went back behind the curtain and left her to it, whatever ‘it’ was that she was doing.
He’d forgotten all about the red envelope until Laia handed it to him at 8.55pm, telling him if he opened it all would come clear.
Dear Professor,
There have been similar enveloped sent out to three different people, very special people who for various reasons require your service. What they need to takeaway is information.
You do not have the details of this information.
All that is required is for you to welcome them, collect their envelope and let Laia take their order. Each will be allotted a forty-minute waiting time and as they sit on the bench, they will be able to figure out just what it is they need to know. Be aware they may wish to discuss things with you but please remain noncommittal as to your replies. The food will naturally be ready as their time is up and then once they leave the next person will arrive.
At midnight the shop will close. Laia, the envelopes and the takeaway will then cease to be and The Emporium will be ready for the next adventure.
It is hoped that you will forgive the intrusion, but there really is no other way.
There was no signature.
Laia smiled. “Shall we?” She indicated towards the door which automatically swung open to omit the first customer.
He was an elderly gentleman, attired in a long grey overcoat buttoned to the neck, black trousers with knife edge creases, highly polished brogues, a trilby type hat, with a scarf and leather gloves which he did not remove. The twinkle in his eye alluded to the bad-boy he had obviously been all his life.
Speaking softly he ordered … two lots of number 4, 26, 44, and 125. He was given a ticket with the number eight on it in exchange for the red envelope. Taking a seat he stared out of the window. It was snowing.
“She loved this kind of weather.” He said nodding at Thrumps. “I do miss her.”
Thrumps kept quiet, for one thing without sounding patronising he didn’t really know what to say, but more importantly he didn’t want to engage in any kind of conversation that might inadvertently give away whatever this game was.
“I always worried I was not good enough for her,” the customer continued. “That the life we had was not enough.” He sighed, clearly not expecting a reply.
Forty minutes later a bell rang and Laia placed the bag of food on the counter handing him a fortune cookie. Smashing it open he read … She is waiting for you. He nodded, took the bag, and left.
“What was all that about?” Thrumps asked. Laia paused as if deciding weather she should tell him.
“The number eight,” she said. Thrumps shrugged.
“His order was double four, twenty-six, and forty-four which when added together equal eight.”
“One hundred and twenty-five?” Thrumps asked not really knowing where any of this was leading.
“One plus two is three, three plus five is …” Laia replied.
“Eight.” Thumps interrupted. Laia nodded.
“And eight is significant why?” he asked.
“Eight is very lucky, it represents completeness.” Laia said. “He was worried that when he died the wife that he had loved all her life would not be waiting for him because he had never told her or showed her that he did. The numbers chose him and once he had worked it out, he knew the answer.”
“So this is all about Chinese numerology?” Thrumps asked.
“It is all about trusting the magic of the Chinese New Year.” She replied.
Thrumps glanced at the ornate calendar on the wall. Rather than starting at the first of January as the western ones did, it began in February. He had more questions but just then the door burst opened and a young women rushed in out of the cold.
She was no more than twenty but looked as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, as the saying goes. Flustered she quickly ran off a series of numbers … 25, 43, 124, 232 and 313. Then thrusting the red envelope at Laia she snatched the order docket and threw herself onto the seating. Back to the wall she took a cursory glance out of the window, she pulled out some headphones and stuffed them in her ears.
Well thought Thrumps at least this one won’t want to talk. He looked at Laia and she smiled.
“Seven?” He asked. She nodded.
“Is that lucky?”
“Depends on what you are seeking.” She replied. Thrumps indicated to the girl, who was now eyes closed, lost in the music, totally oblivious to them.
“She is destined for great things,” Laia began. “But only if she makes the right decisions now.”
Thrumps cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“Come July she has to decide between love or career. He wants them to settle-down and raise a family but another path at university is open to her which does not fit in with the good housewife and mother scenario. If she has the courage to go, she will change the world.”
“And if she doesn’t?” He asked.
“The world will still change, but not for the good.”
Thrumps was sure that time was not flowing as he knew it, as in what seemed like no time at all, the bell rang and Laia placed the box of food on the counter and handed over the fortune cookie. The girl sighed impatiently and ripped the wrapping apart with such venom that the cookie smashed onto the floor.
Have no fear of the Ghost Month, it said.
The girl stared at it for a moment and without saying a word grabbed the box and left, slamming the door as she went.
Laia smiled. “The Ghost Month is number seven,” she said. “Chinese customs is that July is the time when spirits walk the earth, for some it is classed as unlucky but the omens are not always what they seem. Demons are meant to be conquered. Not fearing them, is taking the path that is destined for you.”
“So what’s the final number going to be?”
Laia smiled sadly but didn’t answer.
The last person or rather persons were non-descript. It was not even possible to make out which gender they were. The black hooded tracksuit and trainers were of no help, neither was the short spiky hair. Laia was not comfortable and tentatively reached for the note that was held out to her.
Numbers, 4, 22, 130, 211, 202 and 301 had been scrawled untidily in ink pen, but before she could give out the order ticket the door closed and they were gone.
She shivered. “Number four.” She whispered. “Death.”
They looked at each other for a long time before either of them found the words to speak.
“Death?” Thumps asked.
Laia nodded. “The number is banned in China because it sounds too much like that word. It is also considered a threat when dished out by the wrong kind of people”
“What could they possibly want here?” He asked.
Laia didn’t know any more than he did. All they could do was wait out the forty minutes.
It seemed like an eternity this time until the pair returned. The bell sounded. Laia laid the fortune cookie on the counter. It opened spontaneously and the rice paper within it unfurled revealing the message.
Professor Edward Urvaine Thrumpus … written in red.
Without a word they left, leaving the food behind. Laia almost fainted.
“Don’t touch it.” She warned. “If you accept it then it will definitely come true.”
“What will come true?” Thrumps asked not really wanting to know.
“It’s a death threat.” She said sobbing.
As the clock struck midnight, the shop sign turned to closed, the lights went out. Laia, the envelopes and the takeaway shop was gone just as predicted, but the note had also said that The Emporium would be ready for the next adventure … suddenly Thrumps was not so sure that he was.