This short piece is in all essence, a 'happy pill' alternative to my other story
'Utopia Lost'.
It features a similar concept but unlike said tale, it does have a happy ending. 
(When all things are considered that is )
If you've any comments on this then please let me know at
Finbarzapek@Hotmail.com ( This address now applies for all my stories as my
previous one is now defunct )

Shirley the Loon is the copyright of Warner Bros. and is used without permission.



                                       Hiding Place 

                               A TTA Fanfic by S. Campbell  



When someone tells you that they've spent the past two weeks talking to an
intelligent duck called Shirley you should naturally start to feel worried. 
And if that person just happens to be your best friend then by all rights, the
feeling should be greatly intensified.
But twelve year olds don't think along those lines and when Jimmy came to me
one day and told me about his new acquaintance, I didn't really think anything of
it.
Jimmy was an odd kid anyway, very quiet and with no real pals to speak of other
than me.
He was exactly the sort of person you'd expect to have an imaginary friend. 
All this talk of Shirley may have sounded strange but it just seemed oddly in
vogue for him, somehow blasé.
To be perfectly honest, there were others things about him which worried me to a
far greater extent.
The fact that he was always turning up with bruises and cuts to his face that
seemed to have appeared out of nowhere for one.
Not to mention his constant disappearances from school. 
"I walked into a door," he would tell me when I enquired about his injuries. 
"I fell down some stairs," was another favourite excuse of his.
Perhaps I was too young to accept the fact that a boy's own father could do that to
his son.
I suppose the idea of an abusive, alcoholic parent was a totally alien concept for
me at that time. All I know is that the thought never even occurred to my twelve
year old mind and in fact, wouldn't do so until many years later. 
Such is the innocence of youth.
I knew that Jimmy had already had an imaginary friend called Bob up until about
the age of six so I assumed that this Shirley character was just more of the same. 
I remembered Bob well. 
Bob had been a fox, an intelligent one of course.
A short little guy with bright green eyes and a black patch at the end of his tail. 
We always had to include Bob in our games, let him join in when we went
swimming in the Marlow river.
There was even a special chair in the classroom reserved exclusively for Bob.
Yes, Shirley was no different. She was Bob mark two so to speak.
"A duck?" I asked him one day after school. "You mean like the ones you find
down on the river?"
It was an incredibly warm afternoon and there was a heavy buzzing of flies in the
surrounding bushes as we made our way along the twisting, beaten laneway which
trailed its way through the depths of Johnstown forest.
It wasn't exactly the safest way for us to come home but it did cut a good twenty
minutes off our journey. Besides, walking alongside the freeway could be just as
dangerous if not more so.
"No silly," he grinned, "Bigger than them. She's a cartoon duck with yellow hair.
Well, I call her a duck but she says she's a Loon."
"A Loon? So where did you meet her?"
"Up at that old college at the other end of the woods. You know the place I mean.
St. Jude's I think they call it."
I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to stare directly at him with my face suddenly
set in a dead serious expression.
"We're never supposed to go up there," I whispered. "You know that."
"Well sometimes I just need a place to go," he replied quietly. "Somewhere where
I can hide you know."
"My Dad says bad things went on up there," I expressed. "They had to close it
down because one of the teachers was a bad man."
"Just stories," he replied. "My grandpa tells me that it had to shut because it ran
out of money."
"Well I don't know why it shut but it did. We can't go up there Jimmy... it's not
right."
"But Shirley's not a bad duck, she's my friend."
I said nothing, shrugging once as I resumed my journey along the path.
"Weren't you listening to what Darren said in class last week?" I continued. "That
place is supposed to be haunted too. Remember the story about the old hiker who
stayed there for the night? They say he went nuts or something. Screaming and
shouting about 'little creatures'."
"They're just Shirley's friends... they wouldn't hurt anyone. It's not their fault the
guy got scared."
"You know them as well?"
The laughter in my voice was clearly evident despite my best attempts to hide it.
"Yes," he hissed. "I know them all. There's Buster and Babs. They're two rabbits.
And Fifi. She's a squirrel or something who talks funny. Oh, and Plucky too. He's
another duck."
"Not a Loon?"
"No, a duck."
We reached the outskirts of the woods, sunlight filtering in through the ever
increasing gaps in the canopy of branches as through the thinning trees before us,
the rooftops of the village came hazily into view. Johnstown was a small place, a
quiet little town that was a world away from the bustle of the big city. One of the
last few sleepy hamlets you might say, an inevitable awakening to the pressures of
modern society not too far off.
"See you after I've finished my homework," I shouted, all thoughts of Shirley
swiftly forgotten as I ran away from him and down the slope of the hill. "I'll call
around to your house later."
Jimmy didn't reply, remaining silent as he slowly trudged along behind me. 


It was almost half past four when I arrived at Jimmy's front gate.
As always, the bungalow looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in weeks. The front
door was half ajar and there was a large piece of cardboard stuck across the
window where the glass had been broken during the Easter holidays some two
months earlier. The roof was clearly missing several slates and to the rear, his
father's car lay rusting and propped up on four concrete blocks. The thing
obviously hadn't been used in years and there was a heavy clump of long, thin
grass growing up through the hood.
"Get out!"
I focused in on the voice, staring towards the rectangular patch of darkness that
lay beyond the half opened door. There came a clatter of falling pots and a couple
of shouted swearwords, a sudden bustle of movement. 
A few seconds later Jimmy appeared, eyes reddened from crying.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah Pete," he replied. "Just... I just... "
He had a fresh bruise just below his left temple and there was a slight trickle of
blood coming from the side of his mouth.
"Walked into a door?" I suggested.
He nodded and tried to smile.
"Let's go up to the woods Pete. You know, up to the place where that big tree fell
over last summer."
I nodded quickly, taking one last glance at the dilapidated bungalow before
swiftly heading for the end of the street and the hill beyond. We ran as two
innocent schoolkids, all real life worries forgotten with the thoughts of imaginary
adventure which awaited us.


A warm afternoon gave way to an equally warm evening and by seven o'clock
there were already a couple of bright stars glowing in the reddening sky.
We played by the fallen tree for what seemed like an eternity, running about with
twisted sticks that our youthful imaginations perceived as gleaming swords. 
I was the bad knight as usual, Jimmy the good prince. Now and again we would
join forces and allow the fallen tree to become a fierce dragon.
The chattering cries of two children, chattering cries that could almost be taken as
a sad lament for our youth. Next year we would be teenagers... the beginning of
the end for our innocent childhoods.
We finally grew silent as twilight fell, Jimmy staring blankly into the natural
tapestry that was the surrounding foliage. He was ankle deep in fallen leaves, long
hair thrust into his eyes by the breeze.
He seemed lost in a trance, hypnotised even.
"Jimmy?" I asked after a few moments.
He jumped at the sound of my voice, turning to face me with eyes that were
burning blue in the encroaching gloom.
"Shirley," he smiled. "Shirley wants me to go visit her."
"At the old college?" I exclaimed. "Now? At this time?"
"She wants me to... She tells me she wants to show me something very special."
"But we have to be home by eight," I replied. "We can't go up there now. It's too
dangerous."
But Jimmy wasn't listening, his eyes now turned back towards the forest and a
broad smile forming upon his lips.
Then, a couple of seconds later he giggled, as if he had just heard a joke in his
mind.
"I know that Shirl," he whispered. "That Elmyra kid sounds crazy to me too. Did
she really do that to poor Byron?"
I cocked my head to one side in confusion.
It was like I was hearing one half of a bizarre conversation.
Then he began to move, cutting his way through the bushes and giggling some
more.
"Jimmy!" I called after him. "Don't be silly... We can't go up there."
But he never even turned back, breaking into a run as he vanished into the gloom.
I stood by the fallen tree for several moments, unsure of what to do.
And then, in an insane moment that even to my twelve year old mind seemed like
pure madness, I bolted after him.


By the time I caught up with him he was already within sighting distance of the
college, moving swiftly and without deviation from his course like a boy
possessed.
The already grey sky above us was darkening rapidly, the distant sound of chimes
from the village clock tower telling me that it had now just gone eight.
I'd be in serious trouble when I got home.
"Jimmy!" I shouted. "Slow down will you? Come on.... this is stupid."
As if heeding my words, he suddenly came to a dead stop and I ran straight into
him, both of us falling in an exhausted heap amongst the long windswept grass.
His eyes were unmoving from the overgrown grounds of the college before us, a
look of extreme concern filling his face.
About five seconds later I saw what he was staring at.
There were three large white vans parked directly outside the main entrance, a
mixture of oriental and English lettering on the side of each. I strained my eyes,
trying to make out the recognisable words.
CVH: Outdoor Unit.
Behind them lay two huge spotlights erected on black metal tripod bases, a small
group of cap wearing men in blue overalls puffing on cigarettes and laughing
amongst themselves. 
Above us, the spotlights illuminated the clock tower of the building, old brass
coloured hands frozen in the three o'clock position.
"Shirley!" whispered Jimmy. "I... I don't know what to do. Who are they?"
There was a long silence, Jimmy nodding his head as if he were being given silent
instructions.
Then, after about a minute and quite suddenly, he rose to his feet. 
"I'm going in," he said to me.
Before I had time to respond he ran out into the open, making directly for the
white vans and the main entrance beyond. In yet another moment of madness I
staggered after him, immediately finding myself running into a pool of brightness
generated by one of the spotlights.
"You there! What do you think you're doing?"
Three of the men were now running towards us, one of them grabbing Jimmy by
the arm as the other two ran for me.
They caught me within seconds and even though I tried to run, I just couldn't
struggle away.
They had what sounded like Australian accents, the one gripping Jimmy heavily
tanned and bearded.
"You can't go in there," exclaimed one of my captors. "It's off limits to everyone.
You kids shouldn't be out this late anyway."
"Shirley!" shouted Jimmy, falling to his knees. "Shirley... they won't let me in."
All three men exchanged worried glances, loosening their grip.
"What did you say?" asked the bearded one, eyes focused on Jimmy.
He received no response, the man refocusing his gaze towards me.
"Did he say Shirley?" he asked.
I said nothing, slightly confused.
"Maybe he doesn't mean the Loon," muttered one of the others.
"Bit of a coincidence though isn't it?" replied the bearded one.
Then, without a further word, the two of us were herded towards the college.


Five minutes later we were both in the wide reception area, sitting on a couple of
old chairs as the bearded man kept a close watch over us. 
Although long since abandoned, at first glance the place didn't seem to be in that
bad a state. Most of the windows appeared to be intact and the black and white
floor tiles beneath us weren't visibly cracked or marked. There was no trace of
rust on any of the metallic door handles and directly above the main door, an old
painting of a well dressed man lay neatly positioned against the white wall.
But if you looked more closely however, little signs of abandonment were clearly
visible. There were dark, insect strewn cobwebs in all of the corners, patches of
creeping dampness upon the walls.
Many of the light bulbs were either broken or missing altogether, a water fountain
set into the wall between a series of red lockers now covered in an odd, green
scum.
Besides these little details though, it was hard to believe that there had been no
one here in over fifteen years.
At the present moment, the place was visible mostly in the glow from the
spotlights outside, a few small electric lamps set up at regular intervals on the
floor to drive away the rest of the gloom.
Soon after they had brought us inside, two of the men had rushed off down the
nearest darkened corridor, informing our bearded watcher that they'd be back in a
couple of minutes.
Although I was in a state of near panic, Jimmy didn't appear to be visibly worried
at all. In fact, there were times when I was full sure that I could even detect a
slight smile upon his face.
Perhaps the creations of his own mind were keeping him calm...
I was still pondering over this when the two men finally returned, now
accompanied by a tall, thin guy in a business suit.
He seemed quite elderly, a fact clearly given away by his wrinkled appearance
and the whitened hair of his moustache. Late sixties I reckoned, perhaps early
seventies.
Then again, some people grow old before their time.
Unlike our captors, he appeared quite friendly, even smiling as he approached us.
"So why are you two lads out so late?" he asked in a kindly fashion. "Don't you
know that the world's a pretty dangerous place after dark?"
"It was him," I spluttered, pointing at Jimmy. "He's the one who wanted to come
not me."
"And why did he want to do that? What's so special about this place eh?"
The old man stooped down on his knees so that he was now eye level with us,
smile unwavering. 
"I came because my friend is here," replied Jimmy after a couple of seconds. "She
asked me to come."
The old man frowned, scratching his chin.
"This friend of yours, who might that be?"
"Shirley... Shirley the Loon."
The man fell silent for a moment, hand falling away from his chin as he glanced
quickly at his bearded companion.
"None of your workers have been blabbing anything down in the village have
they? Getting drunk and saying more than they should eh?"
His friendly manner faded abruptly with the words.
"No... not a word. You know we're all trustworthy."  
The bearded man seemed genuinely shocked at the question.
"Well this boy seems to know something. How do you explain that?"
The bearded man remained silent, simply shaking his head slowly.
"Maybe he's been spying on us," he suggested after a few moments. "You know
how kids are. He could have been watching us from the woods for days."
"She talks to me in my head," explained Jimmy. "Tells me things."
The old man refocused his gaze on the child before him.
"She does? Really? And what kind of things does she tell you then?"
"She tells me to come up here... to meet her."
"And have you met her before?"
"I've only seen her once. I came here about a week ago and met her and her
friends. It was only for a couple of minutes though."
"Looks like he knows about the bunnies and La Fume too then," muttered the
bearded man. "And  most of my staff aren't even familiar with them."
"It's always possible that the kid could be naturally sensitive to these kind of
things," expressed the old man. "Some people are just born 'in tune'."
He turned back towards Jimmy, regaining his earlier smile.
"My name's Lance Parkinson and this guy beside me is Alan Rovin," he grinned.
"We both work for CVH Industries. It's a kind of government contract. And you
are?"
Unsure what else to do, we both gave him our names.
"We could take him down to the room and find out if he's telling the truth,"
suggested Alan. "Couldn't do any harm I suppose."
Lance nodded, rising to his full height and smiling once again.
"Come along then," he said to us. "Can't keep Shirley waiting can we?"


The place we found ourselves in two minutes later looked to me like an
abandoned classroom, several dust covered chairs placed up against the peeling
white paint of the wall behind us.
The blackboard before us lay forever darkened, an old pot that might have once
held flowers lying on its side upon the teacher's rotting desk.
There was a funeral like atmosphere to the place, a sense of prevailing despair.
Even the spiders seemed to have abandoned their webs for pastures new.
"You saw Shirley in here?" asked Lance.
Jimmy simply nodded, pointing to a spot just under the blackboard where the wall
looked oddly stained.
"I thought as much," smiled Lance, glancing at Alan. "That's where we detected
the highest concentration of ripples. Looks like we're really onto something this
time."
"But can we believe this kid?" asked Alan. "I mean, what age is he? Ten?"
Jimmy didn't correct him.
"Is Shirley a ghost?" I asked, quite unable to keep my silence any longer.
In response Lance looked directly at me, grinning as he shrugged.
"Do you actually know what a ghost is?" he asked.
"A spirit?" I replied. "A dead person come back?"
"Perhaps," he continued. "But ghosts don't have to come from the past you know.
They can be from the future too... even from other worlds."
"Other worlds? You mean out in space?"
"Maybe, but that's not really what I meant. Other plains of existence perhaps.
Other dimensions... Other realities."
I blinked in silence, too young to fully understand his words.
Lance smiled again, glancing once more towards his bearded companion before
continuing.
"I believe that there's another building just like this one on another world, a
building built along very similar lines and standing in the same position. A
building that, somehow, is connected to this one by a ripple in time and space."
"Shirley told me something like that," exclaimed Jimmy suddenly. "She said there
was something very special about this place."
"But the vans... the equipment?" I asked. "What are you guys doing here?"
"Watching. Waiting. Trying to find out what causes all this. There's a lot of
money to be had if this force can be harnessed you know. I've seen Shirley twice
myself, even heard her speak to her friends. Just a shadow though... a glimmer in
the corner of my eye. She hasn't spoken to me directly but I know she's real."
As he spoke, two men in blue overalls entered the room, a heavy piece of
electrical equipment held between them. It looked to me to be like some form of
oversized television set with a clear glass screen, the wiring and circuit boards
clearly visible within. As they set it up on the floor another man entered the room,
a video camera and small tripod in his grasp.
"This is our night," smiled Lance. "If this young lad's telling the truth I think we'll
see Shirley long before the sun rises."


Three hours passed, during which the glimmer of twilight faded into a cold, star
studded night.
As darkness fell, the light from the lamps was manually increased, dead silence
filling the classroom as all eyes remained rigidly fixed upon the discoloured spot
on the wall.
Our reflections lay as hazy phantoms upon the cobweb strewn windows, the odd
moth battering its wings against the glass in a fruitless effort to enter.
Although the large piece of equipment which looked like a television set was
clearly operating, green diodes flashing and large spool of tape revolving, it
worked away without making any sound whatsoever.
It seemed to have a life of its own, calmly idling away the moments without a
care in the world.
After a short while I began to follow it's example, the immediate surroundings
fading away and blocked out by a raging concern which burned fiercely within
my mind.
My only thoughts now were of my parents. Would they have checked everywhere
for me at this stage? Called the police perhaps?
And what of Jimmy? Did his father care about his absence at all? Would he be
searching for his son right now?
Every so often Lance would look away from the wall, focusing his attention on
my friend. 
He seemed to be waiting for some sort of sign from the boy, perhaps some
foreshadowing of Shirley's return.
"Nothing's going to happen," I kept whispering to myself. "Nothing whatsoever.
Things like this just don't happen... they can't."
To me Shirley was still just an imaginary friend no matter what they said.
A talking cartoon Loon? 
A ghost... an image from another world?
We might as well have been waiting on Bob.
I still had this thought on my mind when Jimmy started to shake.
It was hardly noticeable at first, simply an odd vibration of his hands. Within a
few moments however he was wheezing, shivering as he arched his back in
sudden discomfort.
Instantly glancing towards him, I was just in time to see him slide to the floor in a
quivering heap, limbs jerking madly in a series of quick spasms.
Lance was instantly at his side, kneeling down and holding his hands firmly to the
side of my friend's head.
"Get that tape rolling!" he shouted. "Get it rolling now!"
It was as if Jimmy had totally lost all motor functions, arms and legs now jerking
about uncontrollably as his pupils began to turn bright blue.
There was saliva dripping from the side of his mouth now, a thick trail of spittle
mixed in with the blood from a freshly reopened cut.
If I had been slightly older I probably would have described his condition as being
an intense epileptic fit.
But suddenly my eyes were no longer focused on Jimmy.
They were focused on the wall. 
It was glowing.
The grey brickwork was starting to become illuminated in an ocean blue hue as if
lit from within. 
My stomach churned in a sudden wave of fear.
The patch of blue crept slowly along the full length of the blackboard, stretching
from the floor to about midway up the wall in an eerie, vein like pattern.
Jimmy gave a loud moan, his nose now bleeding as he struggled to gain control of
his own body.
The television like machine suddenly exploded into life, a high pitched whistle
emanating from its interior as the spool began revolving at great speed. 
Alan took two steps backward, shielding his eyes from the rapidly brightening
glow and cursing loudly.
"Come on Shirley!" shouted Lance. "Show yourself.... I know you're here."
And then, like a block of thinning ice, the wall began to grow transparent.
Suddenly the grey brickwork and the blackboard no longer existed.
Suddenly we were staring at another classroom, a classroom of identical size and
shape as the one in which we now stood. 
It was bathed in bright sunshine, the singing of birds drifting from afar.
I felt my heartbeat intensify, staggering up from my chair as I began to shake in a
bizarre combination of fear, shock and excitement.
The other classroom looked exactly like a painting, a cartoon even. The desks
were quite small and neatly arranged, wide windows glowing in the light of a fine
summers day. 
The floor was tiled and clean, not a trace of dirt of grime.
But strangest of all was the creature that stood before us.
A duck. 
Or a loon as she would call herself.
A mop of yellow hair topped with a large pink bow above intense blue eyes.
A red pullover, white feathered hands held out wide.
Shirley. It was really Shirley.
She smiled as she saw us but we could only respond with shock.
All except Jimmy that is. 
Suddenly regaining the power over his limbs he rose slowly to his feet, grinning
broadly as he held out his hands.
"Hi Shirl," he smiled. "I'm really glad to see you again."
"And I'm like, totally glad to see you too Jimmy," she replied. "I'm glad you came
tonight. I want to like, show you something that's totally cool fer sure." 
I jumped as she spoke, a further wave of bewilderment flowing through my mind.
"I totally missed you," she continued. "Why don't you come over here for a sec?"
Jimmy began to walk towards her, now giggling loudly as he held out both hands.
Lance made a hand gesture towards Alan, encouraging the obviously shocked
man to continue filming.
I was simply frozen on the spot, eyes fixed firmly on the little cartoon loon and
the approaching child who even at four foot nine was still almost twice her size.
"I though I was never going to see you again," said Jimmy. "I really thought you
were gone for good."
"Do you really think I'd abandon you little dude?" she grinned. "Real friends don't
do that."
He stretched out his hands and she stretched out hers.
"Come on..." she continued. "Why don't you come on over? You'll be a lot happier
here."
Jimmy nodded, walking forward.
And then it happened.
In a moment that I will never forget as long as I live, Jimmy and Shirley clasped
each other's hands.
Within the space of a split second my friend was no longer there. 
Instead, taking his place was a short red fox, a cartoon animal just like Shirley.
My mouth dropped open as I finally found the ability to move, taking two steps
backward and finding myself up against the far wall.
A small red fox. Bright green eyes. A black patch at the end of his tail.
It was still Jimmy but at the same time...
I held my hand to my mouth in disbelief.
This couldn't be happening.
He was on the other side of the wall now, standing next to Shirley in the painted
classroom.
He then looked towards me and smiled, holding up his paw to wave goodbye.
"Thanks for being my friend Pete," he called. "I'll never forget you."
"Jim..."  I tried to speak but couldn't form the words, holding out my hands as if
enticing him to return.
But even as I did so he vanished.
As did Shirley and the painted classroom.
All that remained now was a darkened grey wall, a blackboard long since unused.
I blinked twice, rubbing my eyes and staring again.
But nothing had changed, nothing at all.
I must have been standing there for almost a minute before sheer panic gripped a
hold of me.
As Lance and Alan remained stunned I quickly fled the room, staggering down
the darkened corridors as I fled blindly through the college in a frantic effort to
find my way outside.
Somehow, I managed to avoid the rest of Lance's men, finally finding myself out
in the open air and running through the forest like a man possessed.
I don't remember much after that.
All I know is that by the time I arrived home my mother was standing in the
garden waiting for me, angry that I'd been gone so long yet at the same time
pleased that her son had returned.



Although almost twenty years have now passed since that day, the memories are
still so fresh in my mind that it could have been no less than a few hours ago.
I still can't fully explain what I saw, nor can I even put the experience into words.
This story is but a vague attempt at expressing the true events of that night, a
simple retelling of a far more complex work.
The experience of seeing that other world, that other reality, Shirley herself...
words just don't exist to describe the emotional sensations.
Perhaps they never will.
I've never been able to trace the whereabouts of CVH Industries or even find any
reference to their existence. Perhaps the name was just a cover.
A government contract Lance had told us... defence purposes I suspect.
All I know is that the day after the incident, all the men and their equipment
pulled out of St. Jude's, never to return. I often wonder if they ever found what
they were looking for. 
I still get dreams about Jimmy, dreams in which he visits me to say hello.
A young fox, a young cartoon fox without a care in the world. He always tells me
that he's happier now than he ever was before, how he wishes that I could have
come too.
And always I wake up staring into the darkness, unsure if what I've just heard was
real or imagined.
Perhaps one day I shall really discover the truth.
But until that day arrives I cannot choose but wonder.
Did Jimmy find an escape route from his dreary childhood? Did he find his hiding
place, a spot where his troubles could never reach him?
There is another question which dwells on my mind though, a question to which,
deep down, I think I already know the answer.
Does my old friend still play as a child in those forest clearings that for me, now
only exist in the past?

                                        THE END

                                                               October 2001