Yo-yo's Weekend Read online

  5.

  Rue's Magic Box

  MISTER Vanilla steps into the trailer and hands Rue a single red rose. ''My dear Mistress Rue. What a pleasure to see you again.'' Rue shakes her hair and reaches for a robe. ''Oh, don't rush to dress on my account,'' says Mister Vanilla. ''It's quite delightful to watch the painted panorama playing over your skin.''

  ''I'm cold.'' Rue slips inside the robe. The tattoos melt away. ''What are you doing here, Mister Vanilla?''

  ''Visiting my dear, dear friends at the Wildcat Circus, what else?'' Mister Vanilla twiddles with the tip of his moustache. ''And, of course, you, my dear little duckling.''

  Rue sits in the armchair, slings one shapely leg over the other, pops a cigarette into an elegant black filter and lights it with a Zippo. ''Last time I saw you,'' she says, ''You were trundling towards the edge of a cliff in a bathtub full of baked beans.''

  ''And you were trapped inside a piano. How did you escape?''

  ''It was an organ, not a piano,'' says Rue. ''And I played my way out.''

  ''Well, you were always good on the organ, my dear,'' sniffs Mister Vanilla. ''I had to eat my way free.''

  ''What a hardship for you,'' Rue remarks dryly.

  ''Ah.'' Mister Vanilla smiles. ''And how is your alluring sister? Still Mistress of the Ring?'' Rue inclines her head. ''The fragrant Mistress Thyme.'' He takes a small crystal-cut scent-bottle from the pocket of his lilac waistcoat and sprays a little perfume under two of his chins. ''We had some good times, Rue.''

  ''We did.'' She breathes out a lungful of smoke.

  ''And we can have good times again.'' Mister Vanilla replaces his spray. ''We can go abroad, to ..… well, anywhere you choose, my dear.''

  ''Venice?''

  Mister Vanilla is suddenly dressed as a gondolier, in straw hat and blue and white stripy shirt. He sings: ''O sole mio, give it to me, oh favourite ice cream of Italy..…''

  Rue smiles. ''Germany?''

  Mister Vanilla is suddenly dressed in lederhosen, white knee-length socks, braces, and a little green hat with a feather in it. He sings: ''Oompah, oompah, ueber alles, oompah alles in der Welt …''

  Rue smiles again. ''Australia.''

  Mister Vanilla is suddenly dressed in baggy bush-shorts, a sweat-stained khaki shirt and a hat with corks dangling from the brim. He sings: ''Tie me kangaroo down, sport, Play me didgeridoo, waltz me billabong dry, sport, make me wallaby cry...''

  Rue smiles again. ''Egypt.''

  Mister Vanilla is suddenly dressed in a loincloth, pom-pommed sandals and a fez. He performs a sand-dance and ''wey-o-wey-o, walk[s] like an Egyptian''.

  ''All right,'' says Rue, ''I get the idea. We could go abroad.''

  Mister Vanilla is back in his own clothes and kneeling at Rue's feet. ''Remember Paris, my kidling? I was happy there, with you, and the Wildcats, all of us together.''

  Rue smiles and places her palm on Mister Vanilla's cheek. ''You always knew how to charm me.'' Languorously she lowers her lashes. ''What do you want me to do? Get the jewel off Yo-yo?''

  ''He doesn't trust me,'' muses Mister Vanilla mournfully. ''I don't know why. I'm almost certain he doesn't remember me.'' He glances towards the box. ''Is he in there?''

  ''No,'' says Rue.

  Mister Vanilla gets up. ''You won't mind my checking, will you, my little froglet? You've deceived me before, after all.''

  ''Go ahead,'' says Rue. ''He isn't there.''

  ''Now now, kitty-cat,'' purrs Mister Vanilla. ''I watched him come in here, but he's nowhere to be seen. Now where could he be hiding? I wonder. Where would he hide in a small caravan? There's only one place I can see. Oh, yes. There's a box, a conveniently boy-sized box.'' Mister Vanilla walks towards the black and gold box, examines it carefully, circles it several times. ''I wonder if somehow perchance by any remote coincidence he might be concealed in….here….'' Melodramatically, he throws open the lid. The box collapses. It is empty.

  ''Ah,'' says Mister Vanilla. ''He is gone. The jewel eludes me yet again.''

  Rue inclines her head and begins to comb her long blonde hair. ''Never mind, Vanilla, old friend. We'll always have Paris.''