Susan followed the policeman cautiously into the next room. In the room were a few rows of tables on which various personal items had been carefully laid. “Now Miss Pevensie,” he said looking at a list of names in a large book, “I see you lost five family members.”
“Six, including my cousin Eustace, and three family friends.” She told him their names and he looked up the references. “I see, you are listed as 'to be notified' for Mr Digory Kirke and Miss Polly Plumber's possessions. If you find anything belonging to your cousin or his friend, we will have to confirm it first with their parents.” Susan nodded.
“The procedure is as follows,” he continued, “if you find anything you recognise and are able to positively identify it, you may take it with you. If it can not be positively identified, we will ask you to leave it here for a while longer. If no one else has claimed it in the next few weeks, you may return to fetch it or request that it be sent to you. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” said Susan quietly. She had wondered how the identification process would work. “All right,” said the man, “If you have any questions, I will be waiting near the door. Take as much time as you want.” Susan thanked him politely and began to scan the tables. It was a strange sight, and the air in the room felt heavy. The items seemed to have been arranged into some sort of order, with similar items placed together.
There was a pile of hand bags and other small luggage. Her mother's bag had already been returned to them, as they had found her diary with her name in it. Next were a few books (both notebooks and printed ones) of various sizes and states of repair. Most of them were blackened with soot or partially burnt. She saw among them a small leather-bound bible in almost perfect condition, and wondered who it had belonged to, and how it had survived. Next to it was another small diary. She opened it gingerly and knew at once that it was Eustace's. The boy's name did not appear anywhere in the book, which explained why it was still there, but she recognised the handwriting at once. Each entry was signed off “Once a dragon, now a lord”. She picked it up and put it to one side.
The next set of objects included various items of jewellery. She half wondered how the owners had not been wearing them at the time, but was distracted by a medium-sized pocket-watch. The watch was silver and covered in soot. As she gingerly wiped away the soot, she took in a sharp breath. On the cover was the most beautiful engraving of a lion that she had ever seen. It was so detailed, that it seemed that the lion's beady eyes could look right into her soul. She turned it over, and though she had never seen it before in her life, she was not surprised to find the initials D. K. engraved on the back. It had belonged to the Professor. Carefully, she pushed on the clasp, and it sprang open. Engraved on the reverse of the cover were the words, “Once a king or queen in Narnia...”. The sensible part of her thought, “The man was truly obsessed,” but in her heart she felt a stirring of pride and value which she had not experienced in a very long time. She carried the watch over to the table where she had placed Eustace's diary, and put it down reluctantly.
Next to the jewellery were a number of sets of spectacles. Most of them had broken lenses, and some were badly twisted. After them, were a number of letters. Some in sealed envelopes, others opened and lying unfolded so that family members might be able to identify the hand-writing. Then there were a number of rather odd looking objects; the nature of some, she could only begin to guess. Among them, one object caught her eye. It was Edmund's torch! She picked it up, and was sad to see that the glass over the top was cracked. Absent-mindedly, she pressed the old-fashioned “on” switch. She took a step back when a faint light shone unexpectedly from the bulb. It was still in working order despite the crack.
She continued on, examining the next row of items. There was nothing else she recognised, until she reached a group of hats. Among them, she saw her father's top hat. It was slightly damaged, but could probably be repaired. She moved on to the end of the row, then slowly walked along the third and final one. Nothing else caught her eyes – there was nothing which even remotely resembled what she was really looking for. She opened every small bag and box that might have been small enough to contain the rings and fit in one of her brother's pockets. They were either empty or contained something uninteresting. Eventually she made her way back to the door to report her findings to the policeman. She felt a strong sense of defeat and stupidity, but something about the Professor's pocket-watch made her unready to give up just yet.
“Six, including my cousin Eustace, and three family friends.” She told him their names and he looked up the references. “I see, you are listed as 'to be notified' for Mr Digory Kirke and Miss Polly Plumber's possessions. If you find anything belonging to your cousin or his friend, we will have to confirm it first with their parents.” Susan nodded.
“The procedure is as follows,” he continued, “if you find anything you recognise and are able to positively identify it, you may take it with you. If it can not be positively identified, we will ask you to leave it here for a while longer. If no one else has claimed it in the next few weeks, you may return to fetch it or request that it be sent to you. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” said Susan quietly. She had wondered how the identification process would work. “All right,” said the man, “If you have any questions, I will be waiting near the door. Take as much time as you want.” Susan thanked him politely and began to scan the tables. It was a strange sight, and the air in the room felt heavy. The items seemed to have been arranged into some sort of order, with similar items placed together.
There was a pile of hand bags and other small luggage. Her mother's bag had already been returned to them, as they had found her diary with her name in it. Next were a few books (both notebooks and printed ones) of various sizes and states of repair. Most of them were blackened with soot or partially burnt. She saw among them a small leather-bound bible in almost perfect condition, and wondered who it had belonged to, and how it had survived. Next to it was another small diary. She opened it gingerly and knew at once that it was Eustace's. The boy's name did not appear anywhere in the book, which explained why it was still there, but she recognised the handwriting at once. Each entry was signed off “Once a dragon, now a lord”. She picked it up and put it to one side.
The next set of objects included various items of jewellery. She half wondered how the owners had not been wearing them at the time, but was distracted by a medium-sized pocket-watch. The watch was silver and covered in soot. As she gingerly wiped away the soot, she took in a sharp breath. On the cover was the most beautiful engraving of a lion that she had ever seen. It was so detailed, that it seemed that the lion's beady eyes could look right into her soul. She turned it over, and though she had never seen it before in her life, she was not surprised to find the initials D. K. engraved on the back. It had belonged to the Professor. Carefully, she pushed on the clasp, and it sprang open. Engraved on the reverse of the cover were the words, “Once a king or queen in Narnia...”. The sensible part of her thought, “The man was truly obsessed,” but in her heart she felt a stirring of pride and value which she had not experienced in a very long time. She carried the watch over to the table where she had placed Eustace's diary, and put it down reluctantly.
She continued on, examining the next row of items. There was nothing else she recognised, until she reached a group of hats. Among them, she saw her father's top hat. It was slightly damaged, but could probably be repaired. She moved on to the end of the row, then slowly walked along the third and final one. Nothing else caught her eyes – there was nothing which even remotely resembled what she was really looking for. She opened every small bag and box that might have been small enough to contain the rings and fit in one of her brother's pockets. They were either empty or contained something uninteresting. Eventually she made her way back to the door to report her findings to the policeman. She felt a strong sense of defeat and stupidity, but something about the Professor's pocket-watch made her unready to give up just yet.
*-*-*-*
The policeman came to look at the items she had found. He would keep Eustace's diary for Aunt Alberta or Uncle Harold to identify. Susan wondered whether they would care to come, but hoped that they would. When he picked up the pocket-watch, she explained to the man that D. K. stood for Digory Kirke and that Narnia was a name uniquely associated with her family. The man scanned the list of names in his book again, and agreed that there were no other people on the train with those initials. She further convinced him by finding the world “Narnia” in Eustace's diary. The man was satisfied that she could take the watch, but reminded her that he would have to keep the diary.
As for Edmund's torch, she knew how to convince him that this belonged to her brother. She carefully unscrewed the top of it. Engraved on the underside in tiny lettering were the words “To dear Edmund, love from Uncle Digory. Don't lose this one!” The identity of her father's top hat was the most difficult to prove. Eventually Susan agreed to leave it until the viewing period was up. Her father had had other hats and it wouldn't be a great loss.
“Is that all then, Miss Pevensie,” asked the officer. Susan hesitated, she wasn't ready to leave. “I was wondering,” she said on a sudden inspiration, “that torch of my brother's. He always kept it in his coat pocket. What became of the coat it was found in?” The man looked momentarily confused, then remembered, “Ah yes, the coat we found it in was very badly burnt. There wasn't much left of it. We placed the worst of the damaged items in the storeroom if they didn't seem valuable or able to be recovered.”
He took out a set of keys and led her to a small door in the wall of the room, opposite the benches. The room was lined with shelves. He scanned then, and then took down a thin bag. He carried the bag out into the light of the main room, and pulled out what Susan would never have recognised as her brother's coat. It was full of scorch marks and burn holes – most of the left side was completely missing. She peered into the only surviving pocket. That must have been where they had found the torch. It was now empty. If the rings had been in Ed's pocket, they were not there anymore.
The officer then pulled a second coat out of the bag. It was undoubtedly Peter's, though it was not in much better condition than Ed's. It was, however, more complete, and Susan checked each of the pockets only to find them empty of everything but a small sweet wrapper and a piece of string. Well, that was that. If there were any rings, they must have been in one of Ed's lost left-hand pockets. More likely there weren't any rings, and this whole trip had been a complete waste of time. Susan sighed. At least she had Edmund's torch and the pocket-watch so that she would not have to return to the Scrubbs empty-handed.
As for Edmund's torch, she knew how to convince him that this belonged to her brother. She carefully unscrewed the top of it. Engraved on the underside in tiny lettering were the words “To dear Edmund, love from Uncle Digory. Don't lose this one!” The identity of her father's top hat was the most difficult to prove. Eventually Susan agreed to leave it until the viewing period was up. Her father had had other hats and it wouldn't be a great loss.
“Is that all then, Miss Pevensie,” asked the officer. Susan hesitated, she wasn't ready to leave. “I was wondering,” she said on a sudden inspiration, “that torch of my brother's. He always kept it in his coat pocket. What became of the coat it was found in?” The man looked momentarily confused, then remembered, “Ah yes, the coat we found it in was very badly burnt. There wasn't much left of it. We placed the worst of the damaged items in the storeroom if they didn't seem valuable or able to be recovered.”
He took out a set of keys and led her to a small door in the wall of the room, opposite the benches. The room was lined with shelves. He scanned then, and then took down a thin bag. He carried the bag out into the light of the main room, and pulled out what Susan would never have recognised as her brother's coat. It was full of scorch marks and burn holes – most of the left side was completely missing. She peered into the only surviving pocket. That must have been where they had found the torch. It was now empty. If the rings had been in Ed's pocket, they were not there anymore.
The officer then pulled a second coat out of the bag. It was undoubtedly Peter's, though it was not in much better condition than Ed's. It was, however, more complete, and Susan checked each of the pockets only to find them empty of everything but a small sweet wrapper and a piece of string. Well, that was that. If there were any rings, they must have been in one of Ed's lost left-hand pockets. More likely there weren't any rings, and this whole trip had been a complete waste of time. Susan sighed. At least she had Edmund's torch and the pocket-watch so that she would not have to return to the Scrubbs empty-handed.
*-*-*-*
Susan was about to take her leave and apologise to the policeman for wasting his time, when she suddenly remembered. When Peter had had his coat made two years ago, he had requested that a hidden pocket be sewn in behind the first right-hand inside pocket. She picked up the coat again and slipped her hand back into the pocket, feeling around. There, carefully hidden behind the false cloth lining, was a zip to the hidden pocket. She opened the zip and felt inside. Her hand clasped over two objects – a slip of paper and a small cloth bag. She pulled them out. The piece of paper was a printed telegram. It read, “Thanks Peter. Meet you then. Friends of Narnia”.
The bag was tiny, made from woven brown cloth, closed with a drawstring. Susan carefully pulled it open. She placed it on a table and rolled down the sides so that she could see what it contained without touching anything. Her heart began to race. Inside, were four small metallic rings. They were simple smooth bands with no marking or other adornment. The strangest things about them were their unusual colour and brightness. Susan also imagined she heard a low humming sound coming from them, but decided that it was probably the blood pounding in her ears.
Two of them were what one would almost describe as gold in colour, except that they seemed more yellow than any gold item Susan had ever seen. The other two, more strangely, were a metallic green. Despite their unusualness, they seemed somehow natural. If there really was a green metal in this world, one would have expected it to look exactly like the stuff that these rings were made from.
The Professor's old story came flooding back to Susan's mind. It was the story of how, when he and Aunt Polly were still children, they had stumbled into his crazy uncle's secret study. His uncle had conned them into a magical experiment by offering Polly a green ring. The moment she touched the ring, she had vanished completely from this world. The Professor, simply “Digory” back then, had been forced to rescue her by taking a green ring for himself, along with two yellow rings, which would hopefully bring them back into this world.
As a child, this story had thrilled Susan. It went on to explain how Digory and Polly had eventually ended up in the same Narnia that the Pevensies had played at as children. As she grew older, Susan had realised that it was all just made up. But now, as she stared at these rings, glowing in such otherworldly colours, she wondered if there had ever been any truth to it. The Professor had certainly gone through a lot of trouble to make these rings look authentic – more trouble than one would expect from a madman. Though still sceptical, Susan was realising that she had better not take anything for granted. As much as she was tempted to pick up the rings and rexamine them more closely, she didn't fancy vanishing from in front of the eyes of the policeman, nor being whisked into some unknown world. The yellow rings should be safe to touch, however, because they only brought one back into this world. Susan reached out her hand to pick one up and examine it more closely.
She was about to touch it when something suddenly made her stop. A vague memory and the words “green for safety” flitted through her mind. Had she remembered the story correctly? Was it really the green rings that had taken the old people out of this world, or had it been the yellow ones? It had been such a long time since she had paid any attention to the story, and she suddenly wasn't sure if she had the colours right. She decided that it would better if she touch neither, and hoped to goodness that the policeman would not desire a closer look.
To her great relief he didn't. He stared at the rings with wide eyes. “Well that is something indeed,” he said. “Fancy us missing those. They would have been thrown out or burned in a few weeks time.” Susan explained about the hidden pocket and he nodded with understanding. “Well I suppose between your knowledge of the hidden pocket, and the fact that this coat was found along with that of your other brother's, you have enough evidence to claim those rings. “There's also the telegram,” she reminded him, “It contains the name Peter, as well as Narnia”.
“Strange word, it seems to keep popping up in relation to your family. What does it mean?” he asked. A few days ago Susan would have told him that it was simply an imaginary place they had made up as children, but now she was no longer sure what to say. “It has always been used by our family,” she finally told him, “I don't know if any one remembers its origin.” The officer smiled and led her to the door. He told her that she would have to sign some documents and could then be on her way. Susan left the station feeling both confused and excited; feelings she felt would soon overwhelm her. She had the strangest sensation that her life was about to be turned upside down. Again.
The bag was tiny, made from woven brown cloth, closed with a drawstring. Susan carefully pulled it open. She placed it on a table and rolled down the sides so that she could see what it contained without touching anything. Her heart began to race. Inside, were four small metallic rings. They were simple smooth bands with no marking or other adornment. The strangest things about them were their unusual colour and brightness. Susan also imagined she heard a low humming sound coming from them, but decided that it was probably the blood pounding in her ears.
Two of them were what one would almost describe as gold in colour, except that they seemed more yellow than any gold item Susan had ever seen. The other two, more strangely, were a metallic green. Despite their unusualness, they seemed somehow natural. If there really was a green metal in this world, one would have expected it to look exactly like the stuff that these rings were made from.
The Professor's old story came flooding back to Susan's mind. It was the story of how, when he and Aunt Polly were still children, they had stumbled into his crazy uncle's secret study. His uncle had conned them into a magical experiment by offering Polly a green ring. The moment she touched the ring, she had vanished completely from this world. The Professor, simply “Digory” back then, had been forced to rescue her by taking a green ring for himself, along with two yellow rings, which would hopefully bring them back into this world.
As a child, this story had thrilled Susan. It went on to explain how Digory and Polly had eventually ended up in the same Narnia that the Pevensies had played at as children. As she grew older, Susan had realised that it was all just made up. But now, as she stared at these rings, glowing in such otherworldly colours, she wondered if there had ever been any truth to it. The Professor had certainly gone through a lot of trouble to make these rings look authentic – more trouble than one would expect from a madman. Though still sceptical, Susan was realising that she had better not take anything for granted. As much as she was tempted to pick up the rings and rexamine them more closely, she didn't fancy vanishing from in front of the eyes of the policeman, nor being whisked into some unknown world. The yellow rings should be safe to touch, however, because they only brought one back into this world. Susan reached out her hand to pick one up and examine it more closely.
She was about to touch it when something suddenly made her stop. A vague memory and the words “green for safety” flitted through her mind. Had she remembered the story correctly? Was it really the green rings that had taken the old people out of this world, or had it been the yellow ones? It had been such a long time since she had paid any attention to the story, and she suddenly wasn't sure if she had the colours right. She decided that it would better if she touch neither, and hoped to goodness that the policeman would not desire a closer look.
To her great relief he didn't. He stared at the rings with wide eyes. “Well that is something indeed,” he said. “Fancy us missing those. They would have been thrown out or burned in a few weeks time.” Susan explained about the hidden pocket and he nodded with understanding. “Well I suppose between your knowledge of the hidden pocket, and the fact that this coat was found along with that of your other brother's, you have enough evidence to claim those rings. “There's also the telegram,” she reminded him, “It contains the name Peter, as well as Narnia”.
“Strange word, it seems to keep popping up in relation to your family. What does it mean?” he asked. A few days ago Susan would have told him that it was simply an imaginary place they had made up as children, but now she was no longer sure what to say. “It has always been used by our family,” she finally told him, “I don't know if any one remembers its origin.” The officer smiled and led her to the door. He told her that she would have to sign some documents and could then be on her way. Susan left the station feeling both confused and excited; feelings she felt would soon overwhelm her. She had the strangest sensation that her life was about to be turned upside down. Again.
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