The Middle Child of the Secret of the Lost Gavel

High in the audience, two people contrasted against the masses, dressed in the deepest black and with pale, perhaps albino features emerging wherever skin was exposed.

‘It’s been found,’ said the man, lowering a pair of binoculars from his eyes.

The woman turned to face him, an awed expression crossing her face.

‘Then we did it.’

‘We have merged two parallel realities,’ said the man with astonishing simplicity. He wasn’t the type to laugh like a maniac; didn’t have the lungs for it.

‘So the Tinwhistle equations were right,’ said the woman. ‘And we’ve killed two birds with one stone. Our plans progress.

He nodded.

‘Oh,’ said the woman and took the man’s hand. ‘Feel.’

She placed it against her pregnant belly.

‘Oh yes,’ said the man, smiling for the first time. ‘I felt him.’

‘I think we should call him David,’ said the woman.

‘What if it’s a girl?’

‘It’s a boy,’ said the woman. ‘I know it.’

‘David,’ said the man, turning the name over in his head and met her eyes.

* * *

The referee was tossed from the ring, over the heads of Emelda and Donnie. He landed in the audience, uninjured.

‘Oh, that’s not so good,’ said Emelda in a terribly reasonable voice.

‘No?’

‘The rules have taken a short holiday,’ she explained. ‘I hope they enjoy the break.’

She bounded into the ring, back in character, and confronted Freddy and the boys at her husband’s side, just like the old days.

Donnie stood and peered over the edge of the ring and stepped back as a head landed nearby. Thankfully it was still attached to its body, but they were both beneath the ample weight of The Great Rambozo.

‘Well, come on lad,’ Rambozo demanded. ‘Get in here! We need you now more than ever!’

Donnie’s shoulders dropped and he climbed in. He was grabbed almost immediately by Freddy who threw him across the ring and into the ropes.