Justtin

Chapter three

Something special is brewing.

Somewhere, North of the border, things weren’t all as rosy as they could have been. In a hospital, 25 miles further north of an old Harrier crash site, a man in his sixty’s was having problems making himself understood.
“ Give him another jab,” said the first orderly.
“ He needs more pills,” said the second.
“ He needs a whack,” said the third.
“ Sorry lads,” said the leading medical examiner. “ I’m afraid you’re all wrong this time. What he needs this time is an enema. That should quieten him down for a little while.”
“ No it fucking won’t,” said dad. “ I need to get back to Romford. I want to go back and see my family.”
“ Totally delirious,” said the first. “ He definitely needs another jab.”
“ Nah, pills,” said the second.
“ Smack him one,” said the third, removing a large knuckle-duster from his white overcoat pocket.
“ I demand to speak to somebody,” said dad.
“ Like who?” said the senior dude.
“ Somebody in charge,” said dad. “ And you can stick that syringe where the sun don’t shine.”
“ It hasn’t shone there for quite a while, thinking about it,” said the first.
“ You really must calm down,” the senior dude said, and was doing his best to get the situation under control, and he wasn’t doing a bad job. He would have done even better if the third orderly hadn’t decided to take things into his own hands, as he edged behind dad. Thinking dad hadn’t seen him, he closed in.
The next thing the third remembered was waking up in crisp hospital sheets, which were very neatly attached to a hospital bed. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t move his arms, and his face hurt something terrible. He started to panic.
“ Thanks for joining us,” said the senior medical bloke.
“ Whab habbened?” the third managed to mumble through swollen lips.
“ Don’t try to move,” said the senior geezer. “ You have two broken arms, a broken nose, and a badly swollen mouth.”
“ No shit,” said the third. “ So whab habbened?”
“ You let him escape, you clumsy oaf.”
“ Eh?” said the third through a fat lip, closely followed by the other.
“ The man is sixty-two years old, and he got the better of you,” said the senior chap. “ Well, I had to let him go, didn’t I. And it’s all your fault.”
“ Eh?”
“ He’s escaped you idiot,” ranted the main man. “ If you’d hung on to him for another couple of minutes, I would have had him. Nearly.”
“ Well leb’s geb arber hib.”
“ Don’t be stupid,” said the head honcho. “ That was hours ago. He’ll be miles away by now.”
“ Hours?”
“ Yeah. Er, you’ve been out cold for about three hours.”
“ Whab did he hib be wib for Chribes sake?”
“ Oh, he didn’t hit you with anything,” said the big cheese. “ During the struggle, the first orderly injected you, instead of him. He got free of your grip and you fell forward, hence the broken arms. They were still folded in front of you when you landed. The face, unfortunately, was my fault.”
“ Eh?”
“ Yes, I tried to catch you, but I wasn’t quick enough. At least my boot broke your fall.”
“ Bollocks,” said the third correctly. “ So bere are be ubber two?”
“ Out cold as well,” said the big man. “ They couldn’t cope with the situation, so they shared the remainder of the pills. They’re both ok, but they’ll wake up with one bitch of a headache.”
“ But bere are bey now?” asked the third.
“ Under the desk in my office,” said the top man. “ They looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake them.”
“ Bankers,” said the third.

***

“ So let me get this right,” said the Police sergeant. “ A sixty-two year old man got the better of you and three orderly’s. I find that pretty hard to believe.”
“ He was a right slibbery bugger,” said the third.
“ That’s easy for you to say,” said the sergeant. “ But according to my information, you were out cold. Why was the man here in the first place?”
“ Just a mild form of amnesia,” said the top sausage.
“ And he was here for how long?”
“ Er, twenty-five years, give or take an hour or two,” said the doctor dude.
“ Just a mild form? Are you taking the piss,” said the sergeant. “ What ever happened to care in the community?”
“ What? This far north?” said the doctor. “ Now who’s taking the piss. Look, the bloke wandered in here twenty-five years ago not knowing who he was or where he was from. We put a roof over his head and fed him. It was the least we could do.”
“ So why was he kept in a padded cell?” asked the sergeant.
“ He might have become violent,” said the doctor. “ You can never be too careful.”
“ You really are taking the piss now,” said the sergeant. “ Why wasn’t he released back into the community?”
“ He didn’t know where he was. How would he know where he was going?” the doctor said logically.
“ Don’t get smart with me, arsehole,” said the sergeant. “ I’ll have you run in.”
“ What for?” asked the doctor.
“ I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something,” said the sergeant. “ While I’m thinking of it, I have some more questions.”
“ No problem,” said the doctor. “ I’m not going anywhere.”
“ You got that right,” said the sergeant.
“ I have no choice. I live here,” said the doctor.
The Police sergeant ignored the flippant remark, and continued with his questioning.
“ Right,” he started. “ Did this man have a name?”
“ Dad,” said the doctor.
“ Pardon?”
“ His name was dad Trotter, or so he claimed.”
“ And did it occur to you to have his details put on the missing persons register?” the sergeant asked.
“ We always meant to,” said the doctor, “ but we don’t get out much.”
“ You only had to make a phone call.”
“ We meant to get that fixed as well,” said the doctor.
“ So basically,” the sergeant assumed correctly, “ he’s been kept here against his will.”
“ That’s not entirely true,” said the doctor. “ He could have left whenever he wanted.”
“ So why didn’t he then?” asked the Policeman.
“ Coz he wouldn’t leave his room.”
“ And why was that?”
“ We lost the key,” the doctor mumbled very quietly.
“ I didn’t hear you,” said the sergeant.
“ I said, we lost the key,” said the doctor a little louder.
“ So why didn’t you get a new key cut?” asked the sergeant.
“ As I said before…”
“ You don’t get out much,” the sergeant interrupted.
The sergeant had been in the job for years, and he’d met every idiot possible, and this was no exception.
“ I’m not surprised the poor bloke wanted to get out of here,” he said. “ And I’m going to do the same, unless you’ve lost the key.”
“ So, are you going to bring him back?” the doctor asked.
“ As far as I’m concerned the matter is closed,” said the sergeant.
“ But he neebs his mebication,” said the third.
“ I think you people probably need it more,” said the sergeant. “ Good luck to the bloke. It’ll probably do him more good to be out of here. I suggest you do the same.”
“ What?” said the doctor. “ Out there? You must be kidding. The place is full of nutters.”
“ Are you willing to take some advice?” the sergeant asked.
“ Yes,” said the doctor.
“ Take a long hard look at yourselves, before you start passing judgement on others.”

***

Before dad’s escape from the hospital, he’d managed to find enough bits and pieces to help him with the plan that was taking shape in his head. He knew what he wanted to do, but he needed to get some distance from the hospital. So he made that his priority.
Of course, dad had no idea that he wasn’t being pursued, but that didn’t stop him from hiding from everybody and everything. He kept away from roads and towns, and slowly made his way south.
He wondered why it had been so easy to escape from the hospital. There were enough people around, but thinking back on it, he realised that most of them wore stupid grins, or were sleeping.
The bit that surprised him most was getting his memory back and realising that he shouldn’t be there. But that was fifteen years ago. Coincidentally, around the same time there was change in authority, and several sets of keys mysteriously disappeared.
Dad tapped his pocket. Yep, sure enough. The keys were still there.
You couldn’t blame him. He had no idea where he was, or what day it was. He didn’t know if he was still being followed by the Arabs, or whether the Finwah was still in place.
He decided to play it safe, so by stealing the keys, nobody would be able to find him, or get to him.
Hiding the keys was easy to start with, as nobody could get in his room. But then he had to be more inventive, and using the lavatory was beginning to take its toll.
Still, they came in handy when it came to his escape. He couldn’t believe that the locks still hadn’t been changed. As he strolled through the corridors, unlocking door after door, nobody challenged him, because he had a set of keys. He must be a new orderly, they all thought, and sat back and waited for their next dose of medication. And you thought the people in charge were stupid.

***

With Justtin back to normal (?), Barry took him to meet Pat the Irishman, explaining on the way, what the bands problem was.
Pug was sniffing the road and not taking any notice, until the conversation started to get interesting.
“ What do expect me to do about it?” the robot asked.
“ I have no idea,” said Barry, “ but I’m hoping the new software I installed in you will give us some clue as to why this band make people fall asleep.”
“ Sounds like fun,” said Justtin. “ So what are they called? Anyone famous?”
“ Not really,” said Barry. “ They’re called ‘The Dogs Testis’.”
“ That ain’t funny,” said Pug.
“ Excuse me,” said Justtin. “ The dog’s what?”
“ You heard. The Dog’s Testis. Apparently they wanted to be known as The Dog’s Bollocks.”
“ Bollocks,” said Pug.
“ What’s the difference?”
“Try askin’ me,” said Pug. “ Oh, yeah. You can’t.”
“ You haven’t heard them,” said Barry. “ There’s a slight difference between testicles, and this sort of bollocks.”
“ What? They’re that bad?” asked Justtin.
“ Nope. The complete opposite,” said Barry. “ I wish I knew a thing or two about the business. They would go a long way.”
“ But I thought you said they send people to sleep when they play?”
“ They do, but with our help, we can put a stop to it. And as a reward, we could become their managers. We could make a fortune.”
“ Bollocks sums that up nicely,” said Pug.
“ Getting out of your pram a bit, aren’t you?” said Justtin.
“ Eh?”
“ You know,” said Justtin. “ A bit carried away.”
“ Was I?” said Barry as he entered the pub and led Justtin to the function room.
The band were sitting and chatting to Pat, when Barry and Justtin approached them.
“ Pat, I want you to meet Justtin,” said Barry.
Pat looked up at the giant robot in front of him, his mouth wide open in terror.
He’d been a roadie / stage manager for more years than he cared to remember, and he thought he’d seen it all.
“ Holy Mary, Mother of God,” he said. “ What de fook is dat?”
“ This,” said Barry, proudly, “ is Justtin. He’s my robot.”
“ Two t’s,” added Justtin.
“ Shit. It speaks,” said Pat.
“ And probably better than you,” said Justtin. “ And I’m not an it. I’m a he.”
“ That went well,” said Barry. “ So Pat, are you going to introduce us to the band, and maybe we can get started on sorting out your little problem.”
“ Little?” said Ade. “ He calls it little.”
The other band members started to laugh, and one-by-one introduced themselves to Barry and Justtin, once they realised he wasn’t going to do anything unnatural, or supernatural.
“ Let me make a suggestion,” said Barry. “ I won’t pressure you to make a decision straight away, but if things go the way I’m expecting, and I’m successful, I would like to have first option on being your manager.”
“ You were serious?” said Justtin.
“ Shhh!” said Barry. “ So what do you say?”
“ Listen mush,” said Ade, who had put himself forward as the bands leader and spokesman, “ If you can sort out our problem, you can buy shares in us, which would make you our owner, mainly coz we don’t have any shares.”
“ So, what would that cost me?” Barry asked.
The band went to the far corner and had a discussion.
“ This is exciting,” said Justtin.
“ Bollocks,” said Pug.
“ Did you hear something?” asked Barry.
Pug looked up expectantly.
“ I heard a joke once,” said Justtin. “ Does that count.”
“ Not really,” said Barry. “ They’re coming back.”
“ Right,” said Ade, “ we’ve chewed it over, and it’s gonna cost you a case of lager, and Mick needs some new drum sticks. Your dogs just run off with his only good one.”
“ Is that all?” said Barry. “ A case of beer and some drum sticks? Is one case of beer enough?”
“ Oh yeah,” said Ade. “ That’s for me. The others are all teetotal.”
“ I feel like I’ve just been a contestant on Sale of the Century,” said a happy Barry. “ Are you sure that’s all you want?”
“ Yeah,” said Ade. “ When we get our record deal, that will pay for everything else. Then we can get a manager who knows what he’s doing.”
“ How do you know I don’t?” Barry asked, feeling hurt.
“ Coz your negotiating skills are crap. We feel the less we owe you, the less the severance pay will be.”
“ Now, that’s what I call negotiating,” said Justtin.
“ Shut up,” said Barry.
“ Only joking,” said Ade. “ When can you start?”
“ Not sure I want now,” Barry said after a moments thought.
“ Don’t worry about him,” said Pat. “ He’s de practical joker of de band, so it is.”
“ Is he now?” said Barry giving Justtin a sideways glance. Two can play at that game, they both thought.
“ Shall we get this experiment over with,” Justtin suggested, trying to make light of the situation.
“ Hang on,” said Pat. “ No one said anytin’ about no experiment.”
“ Practical jokes,” said Barry. “ Don’t you just love ‘em.”
Barry stood on a chair and gave Justtin a high five, and it took a while, but eventually Pat and the band saw the funny side.
“ So, what do you need us to do?” Ade asked.
“ What you do best,” said Barry. “ I just want you to play like you normally would. Justtin here, is going to run some tests, and when you’ve finished, we should have some idea of what to do next.”
“ You better go to the bar then,” said Ade. “ Otherwise you’ll be asleep in no time. Mine’s a pint.”
“ It’ll be on the bar when you’ve finished,” said Barry. “ Now, where did I put my dog?”
And the band played on.

***

Meanwhile, somewhere north of the border, dad was scratching around in somebody’s dustbin for something edible. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s escape, and needed to keep his strength up, for the task ahead. He found a soggy chip wrapper and chewed on that until he found a half-eaten burger in a plastic container. He neatly folded his chip wrapper, and put it in his pocket.
You never know, he thought. I might not be this lucky tomorrow.
Still, that’s life. You give a little bit, and you take a little bit.
Dad took the little bit of burger and went back to his hideaway in the trees.
During his escape, he’d managed to collect a few electrical bits and pieces, and knew that the only way he was going to be found, was to get a message to Justtin.
Dad knew that Justtin would still be around, because he’d made him. Justtin was a throwback to the good old days, when things were made to last. Plus Justtin’s batteries lasted 33% longer than ordinary batteries.
Dad also assumed that Barry would follow in his footsteps and become an inventor, or something equally intelligent.
He’d had plenty of time to wonder what the lad was up to.
Lad? he thought.
Barry was now 35 years old, and that was hard to take. It made dad realise that he was also 25 years older.
He wondered if Barry would recognise him, or he would recognise Barry.
And what about mum? Was she still alive? Had she found someone else?
So many questions, and never enough answers.
Boy, is he in for a shock.
But none of it mattered. He had to stay focused, and get a message to Justtin.
Even if Barry hadn’t continued in his field, dad knew he could rely on Justtin.
Back in his hideaway, dad uncovered his few electrical odds and sods, and started to take them apart. He spread the parts out in front of him and looked hard at the assortment of wires, switches, capacitors and microchips, and realised that technology had obviously moved on, a lot.
The one thing that struck him more than anything else, was that virtually everything in front of him was made in either Japan or Taiwan. I always knew I should have got into that market, he thought. Oh well, win some, lose some.
Dad made a mental note of what he had, and what he needed, and settled down for the night.

***

As the last guitar chord faded away, Justtin finished running his tests.
Pure coincidence.
If we had a lab, I’d probably take them back there, he thought. But instead he went off to find Barry, and found him, deep in a joke with Jeff the landlord.
“ Teach it to cook and piss off,” was Jeff’s punch line.
Justtin looked at Barry laughing, and realised that he’d never seen him laugh so much. Not even the time when Aunt B demolished the rest of her house, after having a bath. But that’s another story.
Must I explain?
Ok. But I’ll do the edited version.

25 years ago.

After the long journey back from Scotland, our tired, but happy crew finally arrived back Aunt B’s farmhouse in Essex.
After two weeks on the road, and completely covered in dust and dirt, Aunt B needed a bath.
Seeing as the bathroom was one of the only surviving rooms from the mortar attack, B was in luck.
She ran herself a hot bath, got undressed and lowered herself into the steaming tub, with her leg launcher hanging over the side. She didn’t have her boot on, which meant that the leg was armed•. She didn’t want it to get wet, or that may have caused it to backfire, and she didn’t want that to happen. She’d already lost the bottom half of her leg. She didn’t want to lose the top half as well, so over the side it went.
So, there she sat, quite happily, in her nice hot bath, when the scratching started.
At first, B wasn’t sure where the scratching was coming from, but as she looked toward the door, dad the squirrel was staring back at her, and shaking. He’d seen enough, and wanted to get out. He sat and scratched at the door, hoping that someone would hear him, and let him out.
Unfortunately, the only person to hear his scratched pleas, was B. She tried standing, but she had a problem. She had one leg hanging over the side of the bath, and she couldn’t get it wet.
Ok. She had two problems.
She had one leg hanging over the side of the bath, she couldn’t get it wet and she had a squirrel spying on her.
Ok. She had three problems. ( You get the picture.)
She held both sides of the bath and pushed as hard as she could, but she lost her grip and slid back to where she started. She tried again, but this time, B was more determined. She managed to hook her leg over the same side as the leg launcher, and pushed herself hard, so that she could sit on the edge.
So far so good, she thought, as she stood up.
Dad was getting scared. He needed somewhere to hide. He saw the darkness beneath the bath, and made a dash for it, straight between B’s legs.
“ Get out of it, you little bugger,” she said, and as she took a swipe at the squirrel, she lost her balance, and fell sideways to the floor.
She looked under the bath, at dad staring back at her.
“ Come here, you little basket,” she growled.
She put her hand under the bath, to try and grab dad, but he wasn’t too keen on being strangled. As B’s fingers got closer and closer, they finally got too close.
CRUNCH!
“ Yow!!” yelled B, as she pulled her hand back from under the bath. She stared at the teeth marks in her fingers and thought, right, now it’s my turn.
But in B’s haste, she’d forgotten about the trigger in her knee, and as she rose to get up, she put her knee down, and said, “ Oops.”

As I said, that was the edited version. Needless to say, everybody survived the explosion.
And Aunt B is still waiting for her turn.


Back to the future.

Justtin was happy that Barry was happy. He couldn’t have been happier.
“ What’s so funny?” he asked Barry. Barry looked at Justtin, then at Jeff, then tried to look at Justtin again. But it was too much. Barry collapsed into a hysterical heap.
“ Was it something I said?” asked Justtin.
“ Oh, I don’t think it’s anything to do with you,” said Jeff. “ He’s just had a phone call. I think it threw him a bit. He’s been a bit hysterical ever since.”
“ I didn’t detect a phone call,” said Justtin.
“ That’s what he said you’d say,” said Jeff. “ Maybe you should talk to him.”
“ This used to be easy when they were little,” the robot said, as he leant forward and extended his hydraulic arms. He pulled, rather than lifted, Barry off the floor, and put him on a barstool.
Barry still had the giggles, so on Justtin’s instruction, Jeff sprayed him with a soda siphon.
“ What was that for?”
“ Four?” said Jeff. “ I only did it the once.”
“ Don’t start him off again, please Jeff,” said Justtin. “ Make yourself useful, and get me a three in one, will you.”
“ Sure,” said Jeff. “ What’s in it again?”
“ It’s very simple,” said Justtin. “ One part vodka, one part tonic and one part Duckham’s 20-50. I mean, it’s hardly rocket science.”
“ Sorry mate, I’m right out of Duckham’s,” said Jeff. “ Can I get you anything else.”
“ Don’t you have any engine oil?” asked Justtin.
“ Not much call for it round these parts,” said Jeff. “ What about chip fat? Best I can do, I’m afraid.”
“ Yeah, whatever,” said Justtin. “ And give him another pint of whatever he’s got.”
“ So that’s a substitute three in one, and a pint of JD and coke. That’ll be fourteen pounds, ninety pence please.”
“ Give the man some money,” Justtin said to Barry.
Barry did as he was told, without even thinking about it.
“ So,” said Justtin. “ What phone call?”
“ I don’t believe it,” Barry said.
“ What?”
“ Unbelievable,” Barry said.
“ Barry, I’m getting annoyed,” said Justtin, getting annoyed.
“ What. Oh yeah. It’s all a bit strange,” said Barry.
Justtin opened a small panel on his arm, and a small pair of pinchers slowly extended toward Barry’s arm.
“ Last chance,” said the robot.
Barry suddenly noticed the menacing pinchers getting closer to his arm, and decided to do some fast-talking.
“ I’ve had a call from some copper in Scotland, asking if I was related to a Dad Trotter,” said Barry.
Justtin wasn’t surprised. He always suspected that this would happen. He just didn’t know when.
Justtin was convinced that the squirrel wasn’t Barry’s dad, but it was difficult, trying to explain all this to Barry.
Even now.
And he never liked the squirrel anyway.
“ And?” Justtin asked.
“ He’s escaped from a mental institute. They were just warning me, in case he’s heading this way.”
“ Fair do’s,” said Justtin. “ But if it was your dad, I know he would find a way to contact us.”
“ Really? How?” asked Barry.
“ Just basic electric’s,” said Justtin. “ When you put your mind to it, you can make anything out of any old rubbish. That’s the first thing I would do, and I’m sure your dad would do the same.”
“ But how long would that take?”
“ It shouldn’t take too long,” said Justtin. “ It depends on what he has already, and what he needs to find.”
“ So what do we do in the mean time?”
“ We run these tests, and find out what the bands problem is,” said Justtin.
“ But what about dad?” asked Barry.
“ Which one?” asked Justtin.
“ Either,” said Barry.
“ Well, the way I see it, you’ve got a dad in Scotland, who any time now will send us a message to tell us his whereabouts.”
“ And dad the squirrel?” asked Barry.
“ Last I heard, he was still crapping in your laundry basket,” said Justtin.