Unexpected Turns: What's in a Name?

Groundhog stopped and fought to keep his bike upright. The man in the office came over to the window.

"I've got a bag for Christchurch," said Groundhog.

"Bring it in," said the man.

Groundhog struggled with his bike all the way to the raised platform of concrete beside the office and untied the ropes. The man came over and grabbed the two leather handles of the bag.

"What've you got in there!" he said, "Gold bars?"

"No," said Groundhog casually, "Just some things."

The man dropped the bag on the weighing machine. "Ouch!" thought Groundhog, "That would hurt! I hope Albin doesn't cry out!"

"Six bucks will do it!" said the man.

Groundhog pulled the money from his pocket and handed it over. He saw the bag move slightly. Had the man seen it? No. This was scary.

"Here's your receipt. Tie this tag on, and put your name on the back, and the other details on this side. You got a pen?"

"No."

"Here you are."

Groundhog took the pen and wrote the required words, then he passed the pen back.

"Could you, er, be careful with that bag please?"

"Always careful round here," said the man. He lifted the bag and dropped it into a space on one of the nearly loaded trolleys. Groundhog hesitated. He tried to work out which end Albin's head was. Could his friend breathe OK? .

Another car pulled in with some luggage so the man walked away.

Groundhog pedaled down the road and stopped. He noticed the big, round clock, hanging by the entrance. Five minutes to go. It had seemed like a good idea, when they were in the tree-hut, but now that things were really happening he was terrified.

The city clock began to toll the hour. The metal doors fronting the railway lock-up enclosure rolled down and banged shut. The window closed. The lights flicked off.