Submersion by Guy A Johnson Read Free Book Online

odd, dull question I was certain they asked out of necessity, embarrassed by the boy who lingered at his mother’s request alone. How is school? What are you studying this term? And the most pointless of them all: what do you want to be when you grow up? But Mother was insistent with her rule: people wanted to see you so there was no going out, understood?
    But Aunt Agnes had intervened on this particular occasion.
    ‘Why don’t you both go out in one of the boats for a bit, get some fresh air,’ she said, a family joke that always made me smile, particularly when she delivered the line and the gasmasks simultaneously. Yet I failed to smile on this occasion – I was under strict instructions to stay put and be seen . ‘I’ll say I insisted, forced you out from under my feet. Now, put on your outdoor clothing and off you go.’
    Once we were in the boat, there was no question as to where we were heading.
     
    On our second visit together, the old man didn’t invite us into the rear room with the television trickery.
    ‘Oh, it’s all a mess in there, parts all over the floor, no, you’re to stay out,’ he told us, a little grumpier than he had been the last time. I had the sense we had interrupted his work, and that we were less welcome, but if Elinor noticed, she didn’t let it affect her.
    ‘Can I show Billy the other rooms?’ she asked him and he nodded and muttered in irritated agreement, before heading out to the back room again and shutting the door.
    ‘Just keep out of my way,’ he called back and I sensed a little of the friendliness return to his tone. I comforted myself with the belief that we weren’t so unwelcome after all.
    ‘Come on,’ Elinor urged, leading me on, her eyes bright with adventure, eager to unveil further riches that were scattered about Merlin’s lair.
    Central to the building’s structure was a spiral, steel staircase that twisted its way up to the very apex of the house. The twisting steps did not stop at any of the floors, so you had to hop off at each level, alighting onto a circle of landing that would lead to the rooms. Only at the very top did the stairs cease, taking you straight into the single attic room.
    On the first floor, there were three rooms. Elinor ventured ahead of me and, as she reached the first of the doors and turned the handle, she looked back and her face burst apart with a grin. Just toys! she mouthed an exclaim. Nothing but toys!
    It was a large room, with no window as far as I could see. All four walls were fitted with shelving, shelving that was, in turn, packed with box upon box of children’s games. Board games, mainly. Some were versions of games we had at home or at my great-aunt’s: draughts, chess, dominoes. Likewise, there were several packs of cards and a couple of books on different games and tricks you could play with them. However, this wasn’t the draw for us; what lured us in were the colourful boxes with games that had somehow remained a secret to our childhoods so far.
    As Elinor had been there before, she introduced me to her favourites at the outset.
    ‘I love this one,’ Elinor had enthused, grabbing a box from one shelf and placing it on the floor. With the lid off, she took out a cylindrical tube, into which she plunged a series of colourful sticks and topped with marbles. ‘You take turns to pull out the sticks and eventually the marbles fall down to the bottom. The winner is the one with the least marbles at the end. Oh, and you shout Kerplunk! when the marbles come tumbling,’ she added, explaining where the pastime got its name.
    I won the first round, frustrating my cousin, who yanked out the sticks with relish and speed, while I took my time, careful not to unsettle any precariously balanced marbles. The game was over in minutes, taking less time to play than it did to set up.
    Elinor quickly pushed my victory and the box aside and took another from the shelf.
    The second entertainment was titled Frustration, which