4 Go to Dumdumland

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4 Go to Dumdumland Page 6

by Patrick Edgeworth

The track to the Giant’s cave is a pretty lazy track. It doesn’t go straight up the mountain, but takes the easy way, meandering round and round the side until it reaches the top. And then stops from exhaustion.

  Mia, Sami, Freddie and Claudie haven’t got far along it when they find themselves staring at something they hadn’t expected.

  “A forest of trees!” says Sami.

  “What else do you expect a forest of!” says Mia.

  Sami isn’t sure. “This is Dumdumland. It can have been a forest of anything. A forest of flowers. Or a forest of -

  “Coco-pops,” says Claudie.

  “Or a forest of Doggy-doos,” says Freddie.

  But it is a forest of pines with spiky needles. And leaning against a trunk is an odd looking creature with a pointy nose, whiskers and a stringy tail. Dressed in a battered hat, check coat and tattered trousers.

  They all stop and stare.

  “What is it?” says Freddie.

  Mia takes the opportunity to suck her thumb for a moment while trying to make up her mind. “It’s a rat,” she says finally.

  “I am not a rat,” says the Rat, “I am a person.”

  “You might be all dressed up like a person,” says Mia, “but you’re still a rat.”

  “Don’t be rude.”

  “I’m not being rude.”

  “Calling someone a rat is rude.”

  “But I’m calling a rat a rat.

  “My point, exactly,” says the Rat as though that settles everything.

  “Look”, says Mia, “not only look do you like a rat, it says so here.” And she points to an identity badge on his trousers which says: “Roland Rat.”

  “I’m a rat, like a dog is a dog. But I’m not a rat like I’m a terrible person who can’t be trusted. You can see my references.”

  “What’s weferences?” says Claudie, who sometimes has trouble with her “Rs”. “Are they yummy?”

  “References,” says the Rat, “are what other people write about you, to say how trustworthy and hardworking you are.”

  And he pulls out a bunch of crumpled letters from deep in his pocket.

  “Look, look,” he says, waving the letters around and making it impossible for Mia to read. “From the Lord Mayor. And his clerk. And Dumdumdog. All saying how honest I am.”

  And to prove it, he shows a paw print at the bottom of the last letter. But Sami can see something more.

  “Why are all the letters in the same handwriting?”

  “Why wouldn’t they be?” says the Rat. “They’re all about the same person.”

  A flying pig flutters down through the trees and whispers in the Rat’s ear. Actually, the Rat has two ears. It’s just that the pig only whispered into one of them. It’s possible the other ear got jealous for being ignored, but we’ll never know.

  The Rat listens intently to the pig. “I get it…I get it…I got it.”

  He turns to the kids. “So you are on your way to the Giant’s cave.”

  “Wow!”, says Freddie. “You get messages from a flying pig!”

  “Don’t you get picky, too,” says the Rat. “I’d use a mobile phone but they haven’t been invented yet.”

  He saunters towards the kids with a big smile. “Ronald Rat at your service.”

  “What do you mean, at your service? Are we going to church or something?” says Mia.

  “Foolish child. It means I can help you reach the Giant’s cave without you having to walk for miles. That way you miss the Fairies, the Pirates and the Dinosaurs.”

  “But I don’t want to miss the Fairies,” says Sami.

  “And I don’t want to miss the Pirates,” says Freddie.

  “And I don’t want to meet the Dinosaurs,” says Mia.

  “You can wave to them from above,” says the Rat.

  From above, they wonder? What does he mean, from above?

  “Come with me,” says the Rat and takes them to a nearby glade. Only the kids don’t know they are in a glade because they have no idea what a glade is. If you’d asked they’d probably say Glade is some kind of Sports Drink on TV – and not an open space among the trees.

  This open space has something unusual: a line of small holes in the ground. And, every few moments, out of the holes pops something soapy which makes their eyes light up.

  “Bubbles!” yell the kids, rushing forward to pat them around. Well, the girls pat them. Freddie, being a boy, punches them.

  “These are not your ordinary Bubbles,” says the Rat. “These are Thinks Bubbles.

  “What’s a Thinks Bubble?” says Sami.

  “You’ll soon see,” says the Rat. “They’ll carry you up to the Giant’s cave in no time.”

  Sami, Freddie and Claudie jump up and down. This is going to be good fun. But Mia sounds a cautionary note. B flat minor if you really want to know.

  “Ummmm,” she says, “what if the wind blows us the wrong way and we get into trouble in the bubble?”

  “You won’t get into trouble in the bubble. The bubble never gets into trouble,” says the Rat.

  “But what if the bubble hits some stubble and we end up as rubble?” says Mia.

  “You won’t end up as rubble because you won’t find any stubble near the bubble.”

  “What’s stubble?” says Claudie.

  “Sharp pointy stuff,” says Mia.

  “Like Daddy’s chin,” says Sami.

  “Or the spiky bits left after harvesting wheat,” says Mia flaunting her knowledge of something she’d read on a cereal packet.

  “Never mind about that,” says the Rat, not knowing he is making a rhyme. “Each of you stand over a hole – and you’ll soon be on your way. But first, you have to pay me.”

  “How much?” says Sami.

  “It will cost you four milk shakes,” says the Rat.

  “Four Milkshakes!” says Mia. “Any particular flavour?”

  “Goldfish-flavour,” says the Rat.

  “Goldfish-flavour!” says Sami.

  “Yummy,” says Claudie from habit.

  This is crazy, thinks Mia. “I’m sorry,” she says, “but we forgot to bring any goldfish-flavoured milk shakes with us.”

  “That is so thoughtless,” says the Rat. “Don’t you ever think of anyone but yourself!”

  “Maybe there’s something else we can give you,” says Mia. “We’ve got t-shirts and jeans and sandals and—”

  “I’ve got a jellybean in my pocket,” says Freddie. “And it’s hardly been sucked.”

  “That’s so tempting,” says the Rat. “But there is something I’d really like. And I only want one. An Elephant.”

  “An Elephant!” they say as one.

  “With yellow stripes.”

  “No worries,” says Mia.

  “And purple spots,” says the Rat.

  “Just your average elephant,” says Mia.

  “Exactly,” says the Rat. “Have you got one about you?”

  “I think we would have noticed,” says Freddie.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve come out without one,” says the Rat. “That is so careless!”

  The kids look at each other, perplexed. Well, they would looked perplexed if they knew what perplexed meant. It comes down to this. What can they possibly give him to get a ride in the bubbles?

  “There is something we can give you,” says Sami. “Something you can’t get from anyone else. Four big Thankyous from us personally.”

  “Four big Thankyous!” says the Rat, a tear welling up in its eye. But the other eye stays dry as it isn’t so emotional as its twin. “That is so sweet,” he says. “Alright. Out of the kindness of my heart, you can have a bubble each for the price of a Thankyou.”

  A chorus of Thankyous and they dash forward and each take a place over a hole. A thought hits Mia.

  “But you haven’t told us—”

  But the soapy stuff oozes out and envelopes them, so nobody hears the rest of the sentence.

  “—how to get down a
gain!”

  Soon Mia, Sami, Freddie and Claudie are drifting skywards each in their own bubble. Up, up, up.

  On the ground the Rat is whispering to the pig. “When you get back you can say they fell for it. And talking of them falling, you’ll need one of these,” he says plucking a sharp pine needle from a branch. “I’m such a rat,” he says chuckling. “Heh-heh! Heh-heh!!”

  And above the treetops, the kids are floating in their bubbles, happily unaware of any danger.

  CHAPTER SEVEN: Bubble trouble

 

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