Free Tales From The Wyrd Museum 1: The Woven Path by Robin Jarvis

‘Aw—kid, trust me, I simply gotta break out.’
    Neil considered all he had been told but finally he shook his head. ‘I'm sorry,’ he said, ‘I can't. My dad needs this job.’
    ‘A job!’ Ted yelled, growing more and more impassioned. There's more at stake here than a measly janitor's job, kid! The putz—sorry, your father, can get work someplace else.’
    ‘You don't know my dad,’ Neil put in.
    But Ted would not be placated. ‘I gotta get back!’ he screamed, hammering on the shuddering pane. ‘I gotta! You're my only hope! The one chance I've been waiting fer since God knows when. Please, I'm beggin’ you, just do it.’
    The bear buried his face in his paws and looked such a pathetic figure that Neil gently put his hand on the glass that separated them and promised to think about it.
    ‘Don't cry,’ he said, surprised that he should feel so sorry for Ted and his predicament. ‘I’ll think of a way to get you out without smashing anything.’
    Ted turned a sullen face to him. ‘I’m a teddy bear, kid,’ he muttered defensively, ‘as in, made from fur and stuffed with kapok. I don't eat, never go to the John and I certainly don't cry—OK?’
    The sound of footsteps suddenly interrupted them and a man's voice called the boy’s name.
    ‘Neil?’ the recognisably uncertain tones of Mr Chapman echoed through The Egyptian Suite. ‘You there, son?’
    That's my dad,’ Neil said. ‘Let's ask him if he can wangle a key out of Miss Webster.’
    He turned towards the doorway but a hiss from Ted brought him sharply back.
    ‘You crazy?’ the bear cried. ‘Don't you go sayin’ nothin’. You say one word about me and you get yourself a rubber room with half a dozen shrinks starin’ in at yer.’
    ‘But you can show them,’ Neil insisted. ‘Once people see you...’
    ‘I ain't no freak show, kid,’ Ted hissed out of the corner of his mouth, smartly sitting down as Mr Chapman entered. ‘I do my act fer you an’ that's all—got that? Now keep shtum, here's your old man.’
    ‘Neil,’ Mr Chapman called, dragging a reluctant Josh behind him, ‘what happened? What did you go off for? I've been looking for you for ages, I've got work to do you know. If you want to wander round take your brother with you.’
    ‘Er ... sorry, Dad,’ the boy began, glancing quickly down at the motionless stuffed toy in the cabinet, ‘I just wanted to—well, it won't happen again.’
    ‘I’ll leave Josh here with you then,’ Mr Chapman said. ‘I've got to see Miss Webster at ten, then make a start up here.’
    ‘Look, Dad!’ Josh squealed with mawkish glee. ‘Baby heads on strings!’
    Neil desperately wanted a final word with Ted and it was obvious the bear would say nothing with anyone else present. ‘Dad,’ he piped up, ‘could you take Josh back to the flat? There's something I want to do here first, I'll be along in a second, I promise.’
    ‘What are you up to?’ Mr Chapman asked. ‘You haven't broken anything, have you? These things might look tatty, Neil, but they could be worth thousands—oh God, don't tell me you've broken something!’
    ‘I haven't!’ the boy assured him. ‘Honest, I was ... I was just reading about... about these frog skeletons, they're really interesting. I won't be able to concentrate if Josh is here.’
    His father's nose pinching ceased and he breathed a grateful sigh of relief. ‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘Strewth, there's a right lot of rubbish in here, isn't there? Still, be careful and I'll see you downstairs in five minutes.’
    Mr Chapman left, dragging the unwilling four-year-old with him.
    ‘I want to see the skellingtons too!’ Josh complained.
    When he was alone again Neil turned back to Ted.
    ‘Nice family,’ the bear chuckled. ‘Yer pa sure knows how to dress—great hair too.’
    ‘You leave my dad alone!’ Neil warned.
    ‘Hey, I'm sorry, OK?’ Ted cried. ‘I've been out of it for fifty years, what do I know about fashion? Yer old man's a