Disclaimer: It's about that time where I regret to inform you that the characters aren't mine.

Author's Note: PS, laranjones...you called it ;)


CHAPTER THREE:

Something was poking his cheeks, something pointy and scratchy and tickly and soft all at the same time. He grasped it with his fingers. It was still dark, but there was no rain. He couldn't see what it was.

He was moving.

I wonder… He remembered Jack running toward him, and then he remembered the bright flash of light. And then I was falling, and I saw-

Georgie's eyes opened and he looked around. The wolf! I saw the wolf! He was sitting in straw, and above him and around him, he saw wood. Like he was in a wagon. He looked up, and saw trees. Straggly, black trees. Just like… Just like before! When we went into the bowl, with Mary Poppins! When the wolf, and the weasel and the badger had taken Gilly, and then tried to take him, but Annabel and John had saved him. Then he remembered the chalk drawing. The one that had been almost washed away on the sidewalk by the gazebo. We fell. We fell into the chalk drawing! And the wolf put us in a wagon and- oh. Where is Jack?

He felt through the straw until he found a pair of legs. The legs belonged to Jack. Jack was leaning up against the side of the wagon, his head resting on his shoulder. His eyes were closed, like he was sleeping. Georgie didn't want the wolf to know that he was awake, so he stayed quiet as he tried to gently shake Jack awake.

His friend didn't move- he must really be sleepy from all that running-and so Georgie lifted up one of Jack's arms and slipped under it, leaning into his side and putting Jacks' arm around his shoulders.

The wolf has taken us, he thought. And Jack is sleeping, but I'm not. So I need to take care of Jack until he wakes up, and then maybe he can help me think of a way to escape from the wolf. With that thought, he sidled up to Jack and watched as they bumped down the road.


"I beg your pardon?" Michael rested a hand on his sister's arm to keep Jane in her chair, so she couldn't go after the constable for what he'd had the gall to suggest. Even he couldn't quite believe it, which was why he had spoken up.

Jane jerked her arm out of Michael's fingers and stood up toe to toe with the policeman and assured him, quite strongly, that, "Jack is a friend and we trust him very much and the very idea, how dare you-"

The children chimed in as well:

"Jack's our best friend!"

"Jack loves us!"

Jane raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the constable like she wanted him to swallow the question back. The older man, the name of Daugherty, didn't back down, however.

"I'm only sayin' that it's quite the coincidence that this…leerie-" he said the word like it was a curse word- "comes over for dinner and then your son disappears along with him right after."

"We told you," Michael interjected. "Georgie was returning Jack's hat." He stood up, if only to be able to reach his sister should she try to do something foolish. "Constable, we trust Jack with our lives. He would never hurt my son." It was true. They hadn't known Jack very long, didn't even know his last name. But Mary Poppins had trusted him, and he'd help them save the house...Michael was confident enough in their new friend to step forward, to look Daugherty in the eye, and inform him, "Jack did not take my son!"

"All right, all right, if you say that's the way it is," the constable said placatingly.

"It is." Jane's tone dared him to disagree.

Daugherty tried a different tack. "If you're so sure it wasn't this leerie, then do you have other suggestions?" In his mind, he hadn't let go of the idea that it was an open-and-shut case, that the leerie had taken the boy, only who knows to what end. "What about your son? Is he prone to run off on his own?"

Michael shook his head. "No."

But the constable saw Annabel and John exchange a look. "Is that true then,?" he asked them.

Michael turned to his two oldest children with a questioning look. "Annabel? John?" he pressed.

"Well…" Annabel began, with a look at her brother. "There was that time. In the bowl."

"I beg your pardon?" the constable asked. "The bowl?"

"What are you going on about?" Jane asked her niece and nephew. The three adults stared at the children.

"In Mother's Royal Doulton bowl," Annabel told her father. "With Mary Poppins. We went into the bowl, because we broke it, and we went to a music hall, and Jack and Mary Poppins were singing and dancing. And the wolf, he stole Gilly, so Georgie went after him to get it."

"What's all this, now?" Daugherty snorted.

But Michael and Jane knew. They remembered that impossible things happened with Mary Poppins, and the children weren't usually prone to lying and telling stories (and the last time they'd told him a fantastic tale it had turned out to be true). So if Annabel and John were both saying this had happened, then it must have, only how do you explain that to a policeman?

"Sir, just please, will you go out and look for my son?" Michael changed the subject. "Jack's bicycle is still outside and he wouldn't go anywhere without it, and Georgie doesn't run off without telling us." He ran a hand down his face. "My son is out there, in this weather," he pleaded. His voice cracked as he sank into a chair. The children rushed over to pat him on the back and hug him, and Jane took the opportunity to glare at the constable.

"I'll get together a team, but it'll be hard to look in this weather," he said finally. "We may have to wait until first light."

Jane opened her mouth to suggest that he start right this moment, but she felt her brother rest a hand on her arm, and stopped.

Her heart ached with worry. There was another crack of lightning, but the thunder took longer this time. The storm was moving away. She only hoped it wasn't taking Jack and Georgie with it.


Georgie felt something nudging him, and that made him open his eyes for a second time. I fell asleep. Jack and I both fell asleep and now I don't know where we are. He blinked tiredly and looked up to see Jack's friendly brown eyes above him.

"There you are," Jack said softly.

Georgie stared up at his friend. Jack's face looked drawn and tight, and his normally cheerful voice was still cheerful, only a little tired-sounding. Georgie supposed it was from all the sleeping and the running. "Jack! You're awake!" Georgie threw his arms around Jack and hugged him tightly, then frowned when Jack didn't hug him back.

It was then that he noticed that one of Jack's arms was tucked in tight against his chest, and his other arm was holding it close, and in the dim light, he could see something red on Jack's coat. "Jack? Are you hurt?"

Jack managed a smile. "A bit, but don't worry. It's nothin' I can't handle." He looked at Georgie. "And what about you?"

Georgie shrugged. "I'm all right. Did you see the wolf?"

"The what?" Jack sounded confused.

"The wolf!" Georgie exclaimed. "The wolf, that was chasing us through the park. I ran to the benches because you told me to run away. And then I couldn't find you, but then the wolf was coming after you and you were running across the grass! We fell into the chalk drawing and I woke up in a wagon and you were sleeping, and it was just like the wagon that the wolf tried to take all our things away in when we went to the music hall with Mary Poppins!"

Georgie got to his feet and Jack reached his good arm for him, missing the back of his coat. "Georgie, don't go far!" Jack warned him. Well now that was a silly thing to say, he thought. Isn't as if he can really go anywhere! The boy paused, looking around at their surroundings. Gray walls, with a small window, and a door with bars. He was standing in more straw. There was light from a single lantern hung on a hook outside the door. "Jack?" Georgie asked slowly, his eyes on the door. "This looks like a cage."

Jack nodded slowly. "Aye, that it does."

Georgie turned back to him. "Are we in the Chimpanzoo?"

Jack smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I believe we are, Georgie." His voice was soft. "Perhaps we are."


Jack pushed against the floor with his shoes, raising himself to more of a sitting position, wincing at the pain that radiated up his arm. He remembered, very clearly, the crack of thunder that was really the gun going off, and the pain tearing into his shoulder. He remembered reaching for Georgie on the steps of the gazebo, but after that, it was fuzzy. His young friend's story was filling in the gaps, albeit not as wholly as Jack would've liked. A wagon, and a wolf…

"Georgie?" The boy turned to face the leerie, his face a mix of wonder and puzzlement. "Tell me more about the wolf?" Jack queried.

"He's big," Georgie said, coming back to sit with him. The boy sat cross-legged with his back against the brick wall, resting against Jack's good arm. "He's big and gray, with blue eyes like the sky. He wears a suit and a tie, like my Father does when he goes to work.

"Jack? Would you finish the story?" Georgie changed tacks midstream. "About the Chimpanzoo?" He craned his neck, wide –eyed, to look into Jack's eyes. Begging Jack to finish it.

The wolf. Wilkins. At least, he thought that was his name. The banker, the one who'd tried to take 17 Cherry Tree Lane from Jane and Michael. Jack remembered now, seeing his face in the park as they'd wrestled in the grass.

Jack ruffled Georgie's hair with his good hand, trying to hide the grimace of pain. "Seems as though we might be here awhile," he said after a moment. "So we should have plenty of time to finish the story." Georgie fiddled with his coat buttons as Jack began, trying to keep his voice light.

"In Timbuktu, there's a Chimpanzoo

That's run by a chimpanzee."

"Except this one is run by the wolf," Georgie whispered.

Jack nodded. "I believe you're right, in this case," he confirmed.

"It's an oddish place, where the human race

Is under lock and key.

And on their backs, they wear small plaques-What are you doing?"

Georgie had leaned forward, nearly touching his toes. He looked a bit like a turtle, in Jack's mind. "Do I have one?"

Jack chuckled. "A plaque? Not that I can see. Perhaps they're trying to decide what to put on yours."

Georgie sat back up. "What would go on mine?"

"Well, now, that's a good question, isn't it?" Using his free hand, Jack traced a rectangle on Georgie's back. The boy giggled at the sensation, and it made Jack smile genuinely, despite it all.

"…On their backs, they wear small plaques

For the animals to view.

Which specify the reasons why

They're kept in the Chimpanzoo.

If you're boisterous and bumptious-"

"Those are silly words!"

Jack was in the middle of tracing the letters onto Georgie's back, (probably not spelled right, he thought, but then Georgie probably doesn't know how they're spelled either, so I'm alright) but he stopped at Georgie's exclamation. "Silly words for a silly boy," he teased him.

"Do they mean something?" Georgie asked. "Like, Aunt Jane and Father will sometimes say this really long word, supercali…..supper…." The boy frowned, twisting to look at Jack. "It's really long. And Father says it's a word you say when you don't know what you should say," he explained. "Sometimes he uses it when our rooms are a mess, or we come in dirty from playing."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like quite the word. I'll have to ask your Aunt Jane about it sometime."

Georgie was quiet for a moment, and Jack was about to pick up the song again, when Georgie asked, "Jack? Are you going to marry my Aunt Jane?"

Jack felt his ears getting hot. "I….hold on a moment…." He swallowed. "Uh, what brings that question on?" He shifted as Georgie turned, bouncing onto his heels in a crouch.

"Annabel says you're going to marry Aunt Jane. She said Aunt Jane f…fan…" His face scrunched up as he tried to think of the right word and Jack laughed. "Fancies you," Georgie spit it out triumphantly.

Jack paused, considering. Yes, Jane Banks had always been very nice to him and polite and friendly. She would stop him on the street if she saw him to say hello and ask how his day was going, or in invite him to Michael's for a meal…It wasn't exactly a shock that Jane Banks might like him a bit, he'd thought about it a lot, but to hear someone other than himself or his fellow leeries teasing him, someone close to the source…

He was saved from having to give Georgie an answer when the boy plopped down beside him again, turned sideways, and flung an arm over Jack's stomach. Jack winced at the quick movement. His arm was on fire; he'd pushed it out of his mind during the story and during the conversation. Now it was back, raging. Oh. Right. I've been shot. That really did happen.

"Will you keep going with the story, Jack?" Georgie asked him.

Jack smiled down at him. As much as he hated to admit it, he was glad the youngest Banks child was with him. Georgie was seeing their predicament through different eyes (and Jack would have loved to see what he was seeing-especially if it was really like the Royal Doulton bowl), and if it kept Georgie calm to pretend that this was all part of the story, Jack admitted, it was keeping him calm to have someone to talk to. And maybe when Georgie fell asleep, Jack thought, he'd have time to come up with some kind of plan to get them out of this mess, seein' as how it was his fault-

"Sorry?" Jack shook his head, realizing Georgie was talking to him. The boy was looking at him expectantly. "Sorry, friend. Now, where were we?"