Chapter 1, Part iii

*

Within twenty minutes Hector had learned that one of the two Tove intruders was being held in the city jail, right by the City Hall. The other one had escaped in the confusion. What's more, only Slick Johnny stood guard over the one they had captured. Hector liked Slick Johnny. He was an older man who loved spreading the latest gossip, and he always shared his peanuts with Hector when he had them.

Hector stood in the History Section, staring down at the frozen world from the floor-to-ceiling window. He absently played with the thick, rough curtain as he fixed his eyes on the little stone shack by City Hall. A lone figure wrapped up in thick winter clothes stood by a small fire burning in a metal barrel just in front of the jail, rubbing his hands together. Hector licked his chapped lips, plans forming themselves in his head.

He detached himself from the window and scooped up his notepad from the end table on his way downstairs. Taking care to avoid Tom, he stalked quickly through the abandoned aisles and silently slipped out the front door.

As he tramped across the frozen stubble outside, he wrapped his green scarf around his neck and pondered.

Tom said it was strange that Professor Trellis would look in the History Section after what had happened last night. I'm sure the good Professor would be informed about what was going on with the break-in... Perhaps he was looking for information on Toves?

“Oy, Hector! How are you, my little friend?” Slick Johnny's crusty voice rang out over the frozen ground, and he waved Hector over with his long arms. “Come on over, the day's awfully cold and this fire's awfully toasty!”

“Don't mind if I do,” Hector said pleasantly, sidling up to Johnny and massaging his hands over the flames. “How are you today, John?”

Johnny's eyes widened, and the wrinkles on his expressive face piled up on each other. “Oh, things have been pretty busy these days, pretty busy indeed, my little friend. You have no idea how busy we've been, what with the break-in last night. You hear about that?”

“A little,” Hector shrugged.

Slick Johnny nodded sagely, then coughed loudly into his sleeve.“Yep. Bunch a' Toves trying to get into the library. Good thing you weren't there at the time, eh? Nice and safe in your bed?”

“Good thing.”

“I seen plenty of Toves in my life. Too many of 'em. Every last one of 'em's a nasty, ruthless beast. They're what-do-you-call-ems, un... incoo... uncul... unch--”

“Uncouth?” Hector supplied. “Uncultured?”

“Yeah, unculchrit savages.” He nodded again, as if the rumors he spread were as infallible and solid as bedrock. “You know how they live? In packs?”

“I thought they were called tribes,” Hector suggested; he remembered reading that somewhere. He stole a glance at the little jail-hut, wondering if the Tove inside was listening, and if it would be offended at what it was hearing. The barred window was dark and silent.

Johnny continued. His voice rose and fell dramatically, and his face lit up with every detail he revealed. “Yeah, tribes! And each pack's led by a medicine man, and they settle their problems by mortal combit wit' each other. I seen it myself. Plenty o' times, back in my soldierin' days.”

Hector knew he had to start maneuvering the conversation toward the captive Tove, or Slick Johnny – bless his heart – would start rambling about his past as a soldier again. However, even Johnny, as talkative and open as he was, would suspect something if Hector blatantly asked to see the Tove. He had to play carefully.

The old man started coughing again, and Hector seized his chance. “Hey, Johnny, what does a Tove really look like? I mean, I've only seen drawings of them, but I've never seen one in the flesh.”

Johnny took the bait and began waving his arms, gesturing to the different parts of his body to illustrate. “Oh, they's covered in fur, like any old animal. And they's got long snouts like this--” he squeezed an invisible snout in front of his nose, “--and long and pointy ears like this!” He pinched his gloved fingers above his head. “And a tail! And they's got claws on their hands and feet that'll cut you open just like that! And they walk all funky, their knees bending the wrong way, and their funky long tails swishin' between their legs as they stalk you an' chase you. No, my little buddy, a Tove is not a pretty sight to see, no sir.”

“Were you there last night, at the library?” Hector asked, trying to sound as amazed as he could. It wasn't hard, because he really did enjoy talking about the mysterious Toves with a first-hand witness. “I heard there were two of them. Did they escape?”

“Oh I was there,” Johnny grinned. He was missing a few teeth, and a couple of the remaining ones were made of wood. “I was at the front of the posse, chasin' them down. They was trying to bust into the second floor, from the ledge by the front window--” Hector flinched. That was the History Section! He had been standing there not ten minutes ago! “--But when we sawed them, we shouted at 'em and threw a couple rocks – not hard, 'cause we didn't want to break anything, Mr. Librarian, don't you worry – but they jumped down lickety-split and we started chasin' 'em as fast as we could. They're slippery devils, they almost lost us a couple a' times, but ol' Johnny's not as slow as he looks!

“Well, we split up, half of us went behind the bakery and the other half went down Main Street – I went that way, 'cause I said it was easier to catch 'em if we ran 'em toward the millhouse, you know which one I'm talkin' about – but anyways, we got one of them cornered at McKee's old place, between the wall and the barn. A feisty storm started pickin' up at the time, and so it was hard to see straight through all that snow and grit in the air, and we almost lost 'im again, but we surrounded 'im and he knew we'd got him and he gave 'imself up. When we met with the other folks they said the other savage had gotten away. Shame on them.”

Hector, now as wide-eyed as Johnny, had completely forgotten the cold. “So what did you do with the Tove that you cornered? You didn't kill it, did you?”

Johnny looked a little disappointed. “Well... no, we didn't. Lots of us wanted to, and we were gonna, but the mayor stepped in and said the City Council decided to keep it alive. Said that they wanted to study it up in New Poliston, probably stick things in it or cut it open or something. Them curious city folk always want to know how stuff works like that, by cutting it open.”
“So the City Council decided not to kill the Tove, then?” Johnny nodded, and Hector decided to file this away for later. “Okay. So if it's still alive, where are you keeping it?”

In an embarrassingly conspicuous way, Johnny surreptitiously glanced to his left, then swept his bug-eyes to his right. When he seemed satisfied that nobody was looking, he leaned down to Hector's ear and pointed his thumb toward the stone shack.

“We's keepin him in there. But don't tell anyone! I'm just telling you 'cause you're a nice young man and you got a proper head on your shoulders, not like most of the folks 'round here. If everyone knew about the savage, they'd kill him in a minute and the mayor would get plenty mad, so keep it quiet!”

Hector promised to keep the secret, but his mind was buzzing with everything he had just learned. So there really was a live, captive Tove in Dunberg! “Johnny, I've never seen a Tove up close, like I said.” He whispered harshly into Johnny's huge ear. “Can I take a peek at it?”

Johnny paused in honest thought. Obviously he was remembering his orders to keep the secret, but he shook it off and waved Hector over to the barred window. “Come on, you can take a peek, but do it quick!”

Barely able to contain his excitement, Hector brushed the frost off a nearby pumpkin-sized stone and dragged it under the window.

“I can't see anything, it's too dark,” he complained in a hushed whisper. He started doubting what Johnny had just told him. Was there really a Tove in there? Or was this all an elaborate joke on him? What if there was a Tove, and it was watching him from the darkness, with its snout and teeth and pointy ears? Hector shivered – not with the cold – and quickly hopped back down. Johnny looked at him expectantly. He returned his look with a faint smile, then adjusted his scarf.

“Well, John, I thank you very much for your time. You've been a very gracious host, as always.”

Johnny grinned widely and returned to his post by the little bonfire. “T'were my pleasure, Hector boy. Leaving so soon? I've got some peanuts, if you want.”

Hector declined, but thanked Slick Johnny one more time before heading back to the library. It was almost seven, and Professor Trellis would expect him in his office exactly on time.

*