Giggle Book Four

by BobA. Troutt

  *****

  Giggle Book Four

  Inside a Sea Shell

  It was a beautiful day as Andrew walked along the beach picking up sea shells and kicking the sand with his feet. I’m bored, he thought. I wish I had something new and exciting to do. I’m tired of starfish and sand dollars, he thought as he bent down, picked up a pebble out of the sand and threw it as far out into the ocean as he could.

  “This is no fun,” he said as he turned away from the ocean and went to find a place to sit down. “Ouch!” he yelled as he grabbed his foot.

  What did I step on, he wondered. When he looked down, he saw a big, beautiful sea shell.

  “Wow! That’s the biggest sea shell I have ever seen,” Andrew exclaimed.

  Andrew reached down, picked up the sea shell and looked at it with amazement.

  “This will be a great addition to my collection,” he said. “I don’t have one like this,” he said as he placed the sea shell up to his ear and listened.

  “Pssst, hey, you up there,” came a voice from inside the sea shell.

  “Huh!” cried Andrew. “Who said that?” he said as he took the sea shell away from his ear.

  To make sure he wasn’t imagining things, he placed the sea shell against his ear again and listened.

  “It’s me, kid. I’m inside the sea shell,” came the strange voice once more.

  “Me who?” asked Andrew.

  “Gabby,” said the voice. “Hold on a minute and let me get a hold…”

  “Ouch!” screamed Andrew as he pulled the sea shell away from his ear.

  “Now, that’s so much better,” said Gabby as he dangled from Andrew’s ear.

  Quickly, Andrew reached up and snatched the small crab from his ear.

  “Be careful,” said Gabby.

  “Who are you?” asked Andrew. “Why did you pinch my ear?”

  “Oh, I am Gabby the crab. Who are you?”

  “My name is Andrew but you can all me Andy,” Andrew answered.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Andy, for grabbing your ear. I didn’t mean to hurt you but that was the only way I could get out of the sea shell. I had almost worked my way out before I got stuck. I had no other choice but to grab your ear and pull myself free,” he said as he cleared his throat. “And also, Andy, if you must know, I got stuck in the sea shell in the ocean and then I was washed upon the shore. Can you imagine that?”

  “No, I can’t,” replied Andrew. “And, crabs can’t talk.”

  “I didn’t think you could either,” said Gabby. “One thing I do know, Andy, you have closed your heart and mind to your imagination. That’s why you’re so bored. That’s why things are no longer any fun for you.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Andrew.

  “Well, for instance,” said Gabby. “I’m sure you have heard the old tale that if you put a sea shell against your ear and listen you can hear the ocean.”

  “So,” replied Andrew. “What about it?”

  “It may be true, but there is more to the old tale than you know.”

  “There is,” stated Andrew as he slipped Gabby into his shirt pocket.

  “Yep, Andy,” replied Gabby while he cleaned his glasses. “The inside of a sea shell is another world. It is an adventure like you would never believe. Inside a sea shell your imagination is free to live. Andy, my boy, you can do anything that you put your mind to.”

  “Wow!” said Andrew. “That sounds great but how can a boy like me fit inside a sea shell?”

  “Why, that’s no problem,” said Gabby. “I can help you. Not only am I a reddish-orange colored crab with eight legs, two pinchers and wear glasses, I am magic.”

  “You are,” said Andrew, “for real?”

  “I am, Andy,” replied Gabby, “for real.”

  “Will you help me get inside the sea shell so I can see this other world?” asked Andrew.

  “Sure, Andy, I thought you would never ask,” answered Gabby. “First, put me on your shoulder so I can hang onto your collar. That’s right, Andy. Now, hold the sea shell with both hands, close your eyes real tight and hold your breath.”

  “Like this, Gabby?” asked Andrew.

  “Yeah, that’s it, Andy. Now all you have to do is think small, real small and let your imagination run wild,” instructed Gabby.

  “I feel like I’m getting smaller and smaller,” cried Andrew.

  “That’s good,” replied Gabby. “Don’t be afraid. You’ll be alright. When I count to three, slowly open your eyes and your heart so your imagination can run free.”

  “Okay,” said Andrew.

  “One, two, three, you’re on your way,” cried Gabby.

  Andrew opened his eyes and found himself inside the sea shell. He was so tiny he slid down, down, down the long curly shaft of the sea shell. Around and around he went as he tumbled over and over and moved from side to side.

  “This is fun,” laughed Andrew, “weeeee!”

  “We’re almost there, Andy,” yelled Gabby. “On this last curl in the shell, move closer to the wall.”

  “Okay,” screamed Andrew. “You got it.”

  Carefully, Andrew eased closer to the wall of the sea shell.

  “Be careful, Andy,” said Gabby as he inched over as well.

  Bang! Andrew pounded against the wall and ricocheted off.

  “Easy, Andy,” instructed Gabby. “Think soft.”

  Andrew tried again to get closer to the wall of the sea shell. He eased over, landed on the outside of the curl and slid on the seat of his pants.

  “Weeeee!” screamed Andrew and Gabby.

  When they reached the end of the curl, they soared high into the air.

  Andrew cried out, “I can fly. I can fly. Oops! Where are we, Gabby?” asked Andrew after they splashed into the water.

  “You are in the sea shell’s ocean,” answered Gabby. “Don’t you remember hearing it when you put the sea shell against your ear?”

  “Uh-huh,” said Andrew.

  “Well, this is it,” said Gabby. “This is what you heard.”

  “Whoopee!” yelled Andrew as they splashed and played in the water. “Look, Gabby. I can hold my breath and go under the water,” said Andrew.

  “Me, too,” laughed Gabby.

  Andrew dove under the water and saw another world; it was beautiful. The coral reefs and the crystal blue water were so beautiful. And so were all the different colored fish that swam about. Andrew loved it when the fish swam up to him and nibbled on his nose. As Andrew was swimming around enjoying the scenery of the ocean, Gabby let out a loud whistle. Immediately, a seahorse came out from behind a rock.

  “Get on,” yelled Gabby.

  “You got it,” cried Andrew. “Let’s go.”

  As they zoomed through the water on the seahorse, they saw a sunken ship being guarded by a shark.

  “I wonder if there is any sunken treasure in there?” asked Andrew.

  “It’s all in your imagination,” replied Gabby. “The treasures of the reefs are yours to believe.”

  Next to a nearby the reef, Andrew saw a blowfish and a baby stingray. But, his joy was short lived when he noticed a swordfish headed toward them. Luckily, it turned back and they were able to get away. Up, up, up they flew.

  “This is the greatest,” Andrew shouted as he shot up out of the water for air.

  Suddenly, Gabby sensed something lurking near them. He searched across the ocean with his eyes and noticed something in the water coming straight toward them.

  Quickly, Gabby turned to Andrew and said, “Andy, put me on top of your head. Hurry!”

  “Do what?” a confused Andrew asked.

  “Hurry, Andy. Hurry!” yelled Gabby.

  Hurriedly, Andrew placed him on top of his head.

  “Hold still, Andy,” Gabby said as he looked around. “Just what I thought, it’s the eel twins, Slick and Slimy. And unfortunately, they’re headed this way.”

  “
Who are they?” asked Andrew.

  “You see, Andy,” explained Gabby as he crawled upon a leaf that was floating in the water. “Oh, don’t worry, Andy. Just crawl up here with me and you’ll be safe.”

  “Crawl upon a leaf!” said Andrew. “I can’t do that.”

  “Oh, yes you can,” replied Gabby. “Think, Andy, think. Use your imagination and get up here!”

  Andrew barely made it onto the leaf before the eel twins moved in.

  “Well, Slimy. What have we here?” asked Slick the eel as he chewed on a cud of seaweed.

  “I don’t know, Slick,” replied Slimy, “but they are in for a big shock.”

  “Who are they?” asked Andrew. “What do they want?”

  “They are the eel twins and you don’t want any part of them,” said Gabby.

  “Slick, let’s give them a little charge. Shall we?” laughed Slimy.

  “Why not,” laughed Slick as he spit seaweed at Gabby who had made his way inside Andrew’s shirt pocket.

  Gabby quickly grabbed hold of Andrew’s collar and pulled himself up out of the way.

  “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” Slick and Slimy laughed as they disappeared under the water.

  “I’ll get you the next time,” warned Slick.

  “Don’t touch the water, Andy. Stay on the leaf,” instructed Gabby.

  Andrew could see the eel twins swimming around them creating an electric flash in the water. Eventually, everything was quiet and still.

  “I think they’re gone,” said Andrew.

  “I believe you’re right,” replied Gabby. “I’m glad, too.”

  “Gabby, after all the excitement, I’m tired and sleepy,” stated Andrew. “I believe I’ll lie down and take a nap.”

  “That sounds like a good idea, Andy. I believe I’ll rest some, too.”

  Andrew and Gabby floated peacefully in the ocean. As time passed, Andrew and Gabby slept. Suddenly, Gabby awoke because he felt something was wrong; it was too quiet. Quickly, he crawled over to the edge of the leaf and looked over the side. He could see a large, black mass moving in fast.

  “Andy, Andy,” cried Gabby. “Wake up.”

  Without warning, the large, black mass shot up out of the water.

  “Andy, Andy!” yelled Gabby.

  “Huh! Aiyee,” screamed Andrew as the octopus grabbed at his leg.

  Frantically, Andrew struggled and fought to get free.

  “Aiyee,” he screamed as Gabby pinched the octopus’ legs to keep it from wrapping its legs around them.

  “What am I going to do?” Andrew cried.

  “Tickle him under his arms,” replied Gabby.

  Because of all the struggling they were doing with the octopus, the leaf turned upside down and they all fell into the water. Andrew tickled the octopus as much as he could while Gabby pinched its legs. Finally, the octopus couldn’t stand it any longer; he had to let Andrew and Gabby go. As the octopus slowly disappeared out of sight, Andrew and Gabby darted up out of the water gasping for air. They had nearly drowned.

  “Get back on the leaf!” yelled Gabby.

  “That was close,” shouted Andrew.

  As Andrew and Gabby climbed back upon the leaf, the sky became dark and the water became troubled.

  “It looks like a storm is coming our way,” stated Andrew.

  “I believe you’re right,” Gabby replied.

  The angry waves moved in quickly and tossed them back and forth. Andrew and Gabby held tightly to the leaf as it danced upon the waves.

  “We are not going to make it,” cried Andrew.

  “Hold on, Andy,” replied Gabby when he realized what was happening. “Andy, stop shaking the sea shell,” cried Gabby. “That’s why we are rocking back and forth so much. And take your hand off the opening of the sea shell so the light can shine through.”

  “Oh, Gabby, I’m sorry. I must have slipped back in to reality,” he explained as he took his hand off the opening of the sea shell.

  “That’s better, Andy,” said Gabby as the water became calm and the sky lightened up.

  “Gabby, I’m homesick,” said Andrew. “I want to go home. Don’t you?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to imagine anything else, Andy,” replied Gabby.

  “I’m sure,” said Andrew. “Are you coming home with me, Gabby?”

  “No, I’m afraid not, Andy,” answered Gabby. “I have to stay here. Besides, there will be someone else who will come along and listen to the sea shell and they, too, may want to imagine what it’s like inside a sea shell.”

  “I’m going to miss you, Gabby,” replied Andrew. “I had a lot of fun.”

  “I’m going to miss you too, Andy,” said Gabby. “The world is without end, Andy. However, you have to open yourself up to it.”

  “I see that now,” said Andrew. “There’s one thing about it, I won’t be bored anymore.”

  “Okay, Andy. I will get you back home.”

  Gabby took his pincher, stuck it in the water and stirred. Slowly, the leaf moved around and around.

  “Close your eyes, Andy, clear your mind, tilt your head up and think about home. I’ll count to three and then you can open your eyes. Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready,” whispered Andrew.

  “One, two, three,” counted Gabby.

  After three, Andrew opened his eyes and he was standing on the beach once more.

  “There she blows,” yelled Andrew as he looked out across the ocean at the giant whale spouting off.

  With the sea shell in his hand, he silently thought for a moment, bent down and placed the sea shell in the sand.

  “Goodbye, Gabby,” he said. “You belong to everyone.”

  Giggle Book Four

  Punkin

  The sweet fragrance of the summer flowers softly filtered through the windy summer breeze as the fresh aroma settled on the little town of Pleasant Valley. Everyone was excited about summer, especially the children. They were fishing, swimming, riding bikes and playing games of all sorts. It was a fun and pleasant time for everyone except Ricky and his little sister, Jenny. Ricky was a small red-headed, freckled face boy with a space between his teeth. That day as Ricky stood in the doorway of Jenny’s bedroom, he had on jeans, a baggy shirt and a baseball cap turned backwards on his head. He watched Jenny as she lay in bed sick. Jenny’s long, blond curls resembled springs and her little, pug nose stuck out between her golden brown eyes. Her mom and dad stood helplessly by her side and hoped for a change in her health.

  “Her fever hasn’t come down,” stated her mother as she laid her head on her husband’s shoulder.

  “Now, now,” he replied comforting his wife. “Punkin will be alright. It’s probably only a bad cold.”

  He sat down next to Jenny, gently pulled the cover up about her neck and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Daddy, I don’t feel too good,” she said.

  “I know, Punkin,” replied her Dad. “You have a bad cold and it has about gotten the best of you. But, keep your chin up, girl. Trust me, you’ll get better soon.”

  “You promise, Dad,” she whispered.

  “I promise,” he replied.

  Punkin’s mom and dad left the room but Ricky continued to stand in the doorway. As he stood there feeling sorry for his little sister, he thought to himself, it’s not fair for Punkin to be sick in bed sick while everyone else is out having fun. It’s just not fair, he said to himself. I wish there was something I could do to help her, he thought. But what, what can I do? Just as Ricky was about to leave the doorway, he looked out Punkin’s window and saw two beautiful bluebirds perched on a limb, chirping away. He hunched his shoulders and frowned before he looked back at Punkin, winked and nodded.

  “I’ll think of something, Punkin, you’ll see,” he whispered as he quickly ran to his room and flopped down on his bed.

  Quickly, he ran to his room and flopped down on his bed.

  “What can I do
to make her feel better?” he mumbled as he rolled from side to side, thinking. How can I surprise her? I just don’t know what to do,” he said in frustration as he lay on his back looking up at the ceiling. “Surely there’s something I can do,” he mumbled as he reached for his comic book lying on his nightstand and started thumbing through it.

  “That’s it!” he suddenly yelled.

  Ricky’s eyes sparkled and his smile stretched from ear to ear as he read the article in the comic book.

  “Long Leggs’ and Short Step’s Backyard Clown and Magic Show,” he exclaimed. “I wish I could get them to come and put on a show for Punkin,” he said. “I know that would cheer her up.”

  Ricky jumped up off his bed, dashed across the room to his desk and began to write a letter to Long Leggs and Short Step. He explained to them about Punkin being sick and how he wanted to cheer her up and make her feel better. Chirp, chirp, chirp sounded the two little bluebirds outside Ricky’s window as they watched him write the letter.

  “Now, what address do I mail it to?” asked Ricky.

  He looked in the old comic book; the address had been torn off. He frantically looked through his other comic books for the address. However, he couldn’t find it.

  “Now what!” he grumbled.

  Frustrated, Ricky wadded up the letter, threw it down on the desk and stormed out of his room. Silence filled the air in his room until the two little bluebirds flew through the open window and land on his desk. One of them pecked at the waded up letter and tried to pick it up. The other one scooted his beak under the wad and lifted one end of the waded up letter. The other bluebird quickly grabbed the other end of the waded up letter with his beak and they both flew out the window with it. Up, up high toward the clouds they flew to search the countryside for Long Leggs and Short Step.

  Finally, hours later, as they circled the nearby town of Summerville, they spotted some people camping out and flew in for a closer look. They perched upon a limb above the campers and listened as the two men talked; it was Long Leggs and Short Step.

  Long Leggs was a tall, thin man with long hair, bushy eyebrows and long legs that stretched out in front of him as he walked. His long arms dangled by his side. He was quick with his hands and his fingers worked wonders as he practiced his sleight of hand.

  Short Step was short with chubby legs and tiny feet that caused him to always walk behind Long Leggs at a slower pace. His round face shined, his eyes sparkled and the little mustache above his upper lip tickled his nose.

  “What are we going to do now, Long Leggs?” asked Short Step. “We are stuck here without enough money to get back home.”

  “I don’t know,” replied Long Leggs. “Since we’ve finished our tour, I don’t know what we’ll do to earn some money.”

  “If we only had some money or another show,” whined Short Step, “we’d be okay.”

  “Yep, you’re right, Short Step, but we have no money or no show lined up. Money or shows don’t just fall out of the sky,” Long Leggs stated.

  The bluebirds decided to drop the waded up letter; it bounced off Long Leggs’ head and fell at his feet. Long Leggs looked down and picked up the waded up paper.

  “Where did this come from?” he asked as he looked up and saw the bluebirds fly away.

  “What is it?” asked Short Step.

  “I don’t know. It’s all waded up,” replied Long Leggs.

  “Well, hurry up and open it,” demanded Short Step.

  Long Leggs gently opened it and began to read. Short Step leaned over his shoulder and read the letter also.

  “Wow!” shouted Long Leggs. “Can you believe that?”

  Short Step shook his head from side to side and then looked up.

  “It fell out of the sky. It’s a miracle,” he yelled. “What do you think, Long Leggs?”

  “Punkin and Ricky live in Pleasant Valley,” said Long Leggs, “and that’s only a couple hours away. We should have enough money to get there. If we do a show, maybe we will get enough money to get back home.”

  “Let’s go for it!” shouted Short Step.

  “Why not!” cried Long Leggs. “We don’t have much of a choice because we need the money to get home.”

  Later on that day, back in Pleasant Valley, Ricky came out of his house and sat on the porch steps. He had all but given up hope on trying to do something special for his sister when, suddenly, he heard a loud bang and rattling noise coming down the street. He jumped up and ran out in to the yard to see what it was. He couldn’t believe it. It was Long Leggs’ and Short Step’s Clown and Magic Show truck coming down Raindrop Lane. Long Leggs and Short Step pulled up in front of Ricky’s house and got out of the truck.

  “Are you Ricky?” asked Long Leggs.

  “Uh huh,” Ricky replied with a nod.

  “Is this Raindrop Lane where Punkin lives?” smiled Short Step.

  “Yes, sir,” said Ricky with a half smile. With a tear in his eye and a quivering voice he asked, “How did you know?”

  Long Leggs slowly turned, bent down and whispered to Ricky, “A little bird told me.” Long Leggs put his finger across Ricky’s lips and shook his head, “Shhh, it’s a secret. Now, Ricky, where is that little sister of yours?” asked Long Leggs.

  “She’s in her room,” cried Ricky.

  “May we go in and see her,” asked Short Step.

  “Sure, but let me ask my mom and dad first,” Ricky replied.

  However, Ricky’s mom and dad had already stepped out onto the porch to see what was going on. Ricky ran to them and told them what he had done and that Long Leggs and Short Step were there to do a show in the backyard for Punkin. Ricky’s mom and dad invited Long Leggs and Short Step inside. They took them to Punkin’s room. Ricky’s dad explained to Punkin who Long Leggs and Short Step were.

  “You are a pretty sick little girl,” said Long Leggs.

  “I know,” she said. “But Daddy said I will get well; he promised.”

  “You know, Punkin, I believe your dad is right,” replied Long Leggs as he reached behind her ear and pulled out a quarter.

  “Wow!” yelled Ricky.

  Punkin giggled and said, “I believe I’m feeling better already.”

  “On with the show,” cried Ricky.

  Long Leggs and Short Step pulled their truck into Ricky’s backyard and started setting up for the show. Ricky ran out of the house and headed down the street to tell all his friends. The news of Long Leggs’ and Short Step’s show traveled across Pleasant Valley like wild fire.

  The next day, the little house on Raindrop Lane was packed with kids from everywhere, even Summerville. The crowd had gathered and eagerly waited for the show to begin.

  “On with the show, on with the show,” the crowd chanted.

  The backyard clown and magic show was only a small show. To the children, however, when it was show time, it was the biggest show on earth. There were peanuts, popcorn, cotton candy and balloons of all colors. There were also dogs, ponies, even a monkey and a baby elephant, too.

  “On with the show, on with the show,” the children shouted.

  The clowns were amazing; you wouldn’t believe your eyes. There were tall ones, small ones, fat ones, thin ones, happy ones and sad ones.

  Punkin smiled and waved her little hand as she sat on her daddy’s lap. Her fever had finally broken and she felt so much better.

  Ricky yelled out, “Woo, woo, woo,” as he passed a hat around to collect money for the show.

  “Ladies and gentleman,” yelled the ringmaster.

  Immediately, a hush fell in the backyard as the children quietened down to hear what the ringmaster was saying. Suddenly, boom, boom echoed throughout the neighborhood. The backyard show had begun. Everyone was shouting and laughing. Even Punkin, sitting on her daddy’s lap, was giggling and laughing. Ricky and his friends could not sit still. They were bouncing up and down like a yo-yo and waving their hands.

  The c
lowns were hilarious and Long Leggs’ sleight of hand was unreal. He took the children’s breath when he pushed an egg in one of his ears and out the other. But when he did it to Punkin, the crowd erupted in cheers. But, when that crazy Short Step tried the egg trick it didn’t turn out so good. As he tried to push it in his ear, it cracked and ran down the side of his face.

  “Yuck, yuck, yuck,” the crowd chanted as Short Step stood in front of them with egg on his face.

  The grand finale was the most hilarious. Long Leggs took a magic wand and tapped it three times on his top hat, slowly swirled it around and around. The children had no idea what he was about to do.

  “Hocus Pocus,” Long Leggs yelled as he pulled a rabbit out of his hat…then another…then another…!

  Short Step was hiding under the table and accidentally knocked the rabbit cage over. Rabbits ran everywhere which ended the show. Children were running all around the backyard chasing rabbits.

  “That was quite a performance, Long Leggs,” said Ricky’s dad.

  “Well, thank you, sir. It didn’t end like I had planned,” laughed Long Leggs.

  Ricky’s dad offered to pay Long Leggs for coming. But, he wouldn’t take it.

  “Thanks, sir. This show was on the house,” smiled Long Leggs. “It was worth it all to see Punkin smile.”

  “Here, Long Leggs, this is for you,” cried Ricky as he ran up with a box in his hand. “It is for all you have done.”

  “What is this, Ricky?” asked Long Leggs.

  Long Leggs opened the box. It was filled with money.

  “Ricky, you didn’t have to do this,” Long Leggs said. “I wasn’t charging for the show. I wanted to do it for Punkin.”

  “It should be enough to get you home,” said Ricky.

  Long Leggs shook his head and asked, “How did you know?”

  “A little bird told me,” replied Ricky. Then he placed his finger over Long Leggs’ lips, shook his head and said, “Shhh, it’s a secret.”

  Long Leggs winked his eye at him as if to say okay and smiled. Punkin gave Long Leggs and Short Step a hug as the two little bluebirds flew high up in the sky.

  Giggle Book Four

  The Camel with the Sore Hump

  The driving winds stirred up a sandstorm just a few miles from the little town of Omer. The storm pressed hard against the traveling caravan, blinding them. As the storm raged on, they had no other choice but to take shelter. Oooooo howled the wind as it twisted, twirled and danced its way about the Wandering Sand Desert. Heavily burdened and wore down, the Far East Moving Company bedded down and patiently waited for the storm to pass.

  “How long do you think it will blow?” one of the caravan workers shouted.

  “I don’t know,” replied Mohammed Kokobea, the caravan boss, as they squatted down by the wagon. “It shouldn’t be too long. That’s why they call it Wandering Sand Desert, because one minute it’s here and the next minute it’s somewhere else.”

  Oooooo shot the wind as it ricocheted off the sand dunes and spread the sand high into the air. Oooooo howled the wind.

  Meanwhile, in a little huddle at the end of the caravan, a group of camels were waiting out the storm.

  “Ali, what do you think?” asked one of the camels.

  “Think about what?” replied Ali Moo Moo, the lead camel.

  “The storm,” said the camel. “What do you think about the storm? Do you think we’ll get blown away?”

  “Not in your life,” replied Ali. “If you’ve seen one sandstorm you’ve seen them all, Knucklehead.”

  “Yeah, but…but this is a bad one. A bad, bad one,” said the camel as his knees knocked and bowed with the howl of the wind.

  All the other camels listened and never said a word.

  “But…but…but,” replied the camel.

  “Just wait and see,” snorted Ali. “Wait and see. Storm, storm, storm; who cares about the storm! I’m tired of breaking my back moving everything from one place to another. I need a rest or a vacation so I can put up my feet and rest my sore hump.”

  The other camels stood quietly, listened and chewed their cud.

  “Hey, guys,” said Ali. “Why are you looking at me with those blank faces? Aren’t you tired and worn out from all this moving, packing, walking and carrying? I’m so tired I could scream. I believe I will, Aiyee!”

  The other camels stood quietly, looked at him with a blank look and chewed their cud.

  “I believe we all feel that way, Ali,” replied the camel. “But, what can we do? It’s our job, our life and our way of living. What else can camels do?”

  “Well, you can do what you want to. However, I’m going to find me a way out. You can stand around with those long, blank faces, knock knees and sore humps all you want to. But for me, put it down, I’m gone.”

  “But…but…but…but,” said the camel.

  “There are no buts about it. This is my last tour,” boasted Ali.

  “Cool,” replied the other camels as they slowly looked at each other and then went back to chewing their cud.

  Suddenly, the wind vanished in to thin air as the grains of sand slowly floated back down to the ground. There was not a stir or even a puff of wind left and the air was hot and dry.

  “You see, you see. What did I tell you?” bragged Ali as the other camels got back into the caravan.

  Another camel stopped, looked back and said, “No matter what they say, you’re my main man, Ali Moo Moo. You’re my main man.”

  “Okay, you lazy bunch of camels!” shouted Mohammed Kokobea. “It’s time to get moving! I want to make it to Omer before dark,” he instructed. “Besides, the storm has put us behind. Move it! Move it!”

  “Hold your tater,” replied Ali. “What’s ya big hurry? I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Let’s go, Ali,” shouted Mohammed. “Move it, Moo Moo.”

  As Ali and the others headed out for Omer, he couldn’t help but think about getting out of the caravan. He was bound and determined to find a way out.

  “Let’s go, Ali!” shouted Mohammed. “Pick up the pace.”

  Good grief, man, you’re always dogging me, Ali thought to himself. Doesn’t he ever give up? The caravan had slowly disappeared over the horizon when Ali got a bright idea.

  “I know what to do,” said Ali. “I’ve found my way out. I’m a genius,” he whispered.

  Once the caravan finally stopped for a break, Ali put his plan in motion. This is it. This is the right time,” he thought. Suddenly, Ali fell down in the sand.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” he moaned.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” all the other camels cried as they rushed over to him.

  Hurriedly, Mohammed ran to see what was wrong with Ali.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” cried Ali.

  “What is it?” asked Mohammed. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s my hump,” cried Ali. “It hurts me so bad. It’s so tender and so sore.”

  The others quickly removed the packages from his back and Ali let out a sigh of relief.

  “That feels so much better,” he said.

  “Well, well, well,” Mohammed said as he kneeled down and gently rubbed Ali’s hump with his hand.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” the other camels asked.

  “I don’t know for sure,” he said, “but I’m afraid Ali has the dreaded sore hump syndrome.”

  “Oh my, the dreaded sore hump syndrome,” they all cried. “Oooh…wee,” that’s bad.”

  “What is the dreaded sore hump syndrome?” one of the camels asked Mohammed. “We all have sore humps from packing these heavy loads. I thought a sore hump was just part of the job.”

  “Oh, oh, oh,” moaned Ali.

  “But, he’s in so much pain,” the camels sympathetically said.

  Mohammed stood to his feet, slightly touched Ali’s hump and winked to the others.

  “The dreaded sore hump syndrome is a syndrome tha
t camels get when they have been overworked and overloaded,” Mohammed explained.

  “I didn’t know that,” said one camel.

  “Me either,” said another. “I believe I’ve got that.”

  “Me, too,” said the others.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” cried Ali. “It hurts me so bad.”

  “Mohammed, is there a cure?” one of the camels asked.

  “Yes,” he replied. “There is one thing that usually helps.”

  “Will it help Ali?” one of the camels asked.

  “Yes, it might,” replied Mohammed.

  “Well, what is it?” they all cried.

  “Ali will need to stay off his feet and relax for about two weeks,” stated Mohammed.

  “Cool, man,” said one of the camels. “I can dig that. Like I said, Ali, you’re my main man. You’re a real cool dude.”

  “What are we going to do?” asked the other camels. “We can’t leave him here alone.”

  “We’ll divide his load and when we get to the next oasis, Omer, we’ll leave him at Restful Oasis with Dr. Fignutt,” said Mohammed.

  “Who is that?” one camel questioned.

  “He’s the sand doctor or desert quack. He runs the Restful Oasis Desert and treats the dreaded sore hump syndrome. Plus, he’s a friend of mine. Okay, everyone, stand back and give Ali some room!” shouted Mohammed.

  As Ali staggered to his feet, he moaned and groaned. He rolled his eyes back in his head, buckled his knees and staggered about.

  “Is he going to be able to make it?” asked one camel.

  “Sure,” replied Mohammed. “I believe he’s feeling better already. The break is over. Let’s get back to work.”

  Slowly, the caravan took off with Ali bringing up the rear. It wasn’t long before they entered Omer where they would rest a while before they moved on. Mohammed rushed Ali over to Dr. Fignutt’s office and explained Ali’s symptoms to him. Dr. Fignutt understood clearly what the real problem was.

  “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” he chuckled. “Oh, I see,” he said as Ali moaned and groaned.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” Ali moaned even louder.

  Mohammed told Ali that he was in good hands and he would stop on the way back and pick him up.

  Ali moaned, “Okay.”

  “Now, let’s see Ali Moo,” said the doctor.

  “Uh, excuse me, doctor. That’s Moo Moo, with two Moos,” Ali corrected Dr. Fignutt.

  “Ah, yes,” he replied, “it is. Well, Ali, does it hurt when I do this?”

  “Oh, oh, oh, oh,” cried Ali. “Don’t do that.”

  “Well, what about this?” asked the doctor.

  “Oh, oh, oh, oh,” cried Ali. “Don’t do that either.”

  “Yes, I see,” said the doctor. “That’s very strange. What about when I do this?”

  “Oh, oh, oh!” screamed Ali. “You can stop now. I’m feeling much better. My hump is not quite as sore.”

  “But…but, Ali Moo,” said Dr. Fignutt.

  “Excuse me, sir. That’s Ali Moo Moo with two Moos,” stated Ali.

  “Oh, yes. Yes, I forgot, Ali,” replied the doctor. “I’m afraid you don’t have the dreaded sore hump syndrome.”

  “I don’t,” cried Ali. “Then what do I have a brilliant mind?”

  “No,” replied the doctor. “I’m afraid you’re suffering from flearooitishtaphy.”

  “What in the world is flearooitishtaphy?” questioned Ali. “I can’t have that because I feel fine.”

  “It is caused from a sand flew bite. If it doesn’t get treated quickly, the outcome could be terrible,” explained the doctor.

  “But…but, doctor. I’m fine. I just made….it all up,” cried Ali.

  “No buts about it,” said Dr. Fignutt. “That’s what you have. A sand flea bit you at some point during the trip. Plus, you look awful.”

  “I do?” questioned Ali.

  “Yes, you do,” replied the doctor.

  “What will happen if I don’t get help soon?” asked Ali.

  “Are you sure you want to know?” questioned Dr. Fignutt.

  “Yes, I do,” replied Ali.

  “Your hump will shrink and disappear,” Dr. Fignutt stated.

  “My hump will shrink and disappear!” screamed Ali.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” replied the doctor.

  “But…but…but, I can’t lose my hump. It’s my life, my trademark, my…” cried Ali. “What’s a camel with no hump? What’s a leopard with no spots? What’s an elephant with no trunk?”

  “Victim of flearooitishtaphy,” said Dr. Fignutt.

  “Oh, doctor. Oh, doctor, you have to help me!” screamed Ali. “I’ll be the laughing stock of the desert, the joke of the year and a has been. Can you help me, doctor?” he begged.

  “Yes, but only if we caught it in time,” replied the doctor. “But, your hump already looks like it has shrunk.”

  “Help me, doctor. Please help me,” cried Ali. “Tell me it’s not too late. Tell me it’s not flearooitishtaphy. Oh, please tell me you have made a mistake.”

  “Well, Ali Moo,” said Dr. Fignutt.

  “Uh, that’s Ali Moo Moo with two Moos, thank you,” retorted Ali. “Oh, it doesn’t matter anymore!” screamed Ali. “One Moo, two Moos or more, it just doesn’t matter. Just help me get well.”

  “I’ll know for sure in about two weeks. The only way I’ll know if I made a mistake is if you still have your hump after two weeks have passed,” stated Dr. Fignutt. “We just have to wait and see.”

  “Okay, I’ll do whatever!” shouted Ali. “Tell me, doctor. Please tell me what to do.”

  “Well, let me see,” said the doctor. “What to do about camels with flearooitishtaphy. Oh, yes, yes indeed, camels,” he said as he flipped through his medical book. The first thing I’ll have to do,” Dr. Fignutt said, “is register you in the Palm Tree Hotel.”

  Palm Tree Hotel, thought Ali. That doesn’t sound bad. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought. As they headed down the street toward the outskirts of town, Ali saw an old, vacant rundown barn and a corral up ahead.

  “There’s the Palm Tree Hotel right there,” Dr. Fignutt pointed and said.

  “What, are you crazy!” shouted Ali.

  Dr. Fignutt dropped his head, slightly turned his eyes up a bit and asked, “You don’t want anyone else to catch it do you?”

  “Oh, no, no, no, I wouldn’t,” he cried. “But…but…”

  “You’ll be alright. You only have to be quarantined for two weeks. If you still have your hump at that time, then I have made a terrible mistake,” he said.

  “But…but…” said Ali.

  “Oh, yes, one other thing, don’t fall asleep,” replied Dr. Fignutt. “If you fall asleep, you could be bitten by some more sand fleas. You definitely don’t want that, do you?”

  “Oh, no, no, no, not that,” Ali said with a quivering voice.

  Day after day and night after night, Ali stood in the corral and wondered if his hump was shrinking. From time to time, Dr. Fignutt would come by to check on him. As the days passed, Ali thought about what he had done to Mohammed and his friends; he felt ashamed. He wished he had never played sick to get out of work and there was one thing he knew, he would never do it again. Finally, the long awaited two weeks were over. As Ali struggled to stay awake, Mohammed and Dr. Fignutt came to check on him.

  “Well, I see you are alright,” said Mohammed. “You still have your hump and you look so much better, too.”

  “Yes, yes indeed. I must have been wrong,” Dr. Fignutt stated.

  “Well, I’m sure glad you were,” said Ali.

  “Are you well enough to travel?” asked Mohammed.

  “I sure am!” shouted Ali. “I’m ready to pack my load.”

  “Well, come on,” said Mohammed, “and get your old place in the caravan back.”

  Ali shot out of the corral and hurried over to his friends. They were all glad to see
him.

  “You really did cure him,” laughed Mohammed.

  “Yep! I don’t think you’ll have any more trouble out of him,” said Dr. Fignutt.

  “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” they both laughed.

  Giggle Book Four

  The Clock That Ran Backwards

  “But…Mama, do I have to go to sleep?” asked Anthony.

  “Yes, you do,” she replied. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

  “I sure do,” he said. “I can’t wait to go to the zoo and see all the animals. You know, Mama, I don’t know which one is my favorite. I like them all. But, the giraffe is really something to see.”

  “Well, you can see them all tomorrow,” she said. “But for now, my little man, it’s time for you to go to sleep.”

  “Goodnight, Mama.”

  “Goodnight, little man. Sweet dreams,” she said as she turned the light off and closed the door.

  As Anthony lay there in bed, he tossed, tumbled, twisted and turned. He even slipped to the foot of the bed and wiggled and squirmed. Time after time, he looked at the clock and listened. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock ticked the clock as he twisted and turned some more. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock went the clock as the night slowly passed by. His big brown eyes got heavier and heavier as he watched the clock. He wished time would hurry up and pass so he could wake up and go to the zoo. The room was blanketed with silence except for the ticking of the clock. All was still as Anthony’s heavy eyes finally shut and he fell asleep. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock went the clock. He had slept a while before he suddenly woke up.

  “Where am I?” he asked. “What is all that noise?”

  Tick-tock, tick-tock, bong, bong, bong, ching, ching, ching, coo-coo, coo-coo, tick-tock, tick-tock sounded throughout the room. Then there was a giant, loud dong, dong, dong, dong. Anthony counted 12 dongs. He looked around and saw hundreds of clocks. There were big ones, little ones, square ones and round ones.

  “Where am I?” he asked as a clock that ran backwards ran up to him.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said the clock. “Did I hear you correctly? Did you ask where you were?”

  “Why, yes,” said Anthony, “I did. Where am I and who are you?”

  “Well, first of all, sir. You’re in Tick-tock Valley; the land of misuse and forgotten time. I, sir, am Hans. I’m a clock that runs backwards. I have three hands and still can’t get anything done. I’m running backwards to make up for lost time now. I am always going and I never stop. I am always pointing and I always feel run down. My hands are always crisscrossing this way and that. I’m wound up and running wild. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” he laughed. “I bet you won’t believe this? My little hand is trying to keep up with the big hand and the second hand is running off and leaving them both. Isn’t that the craziest thing you have ever heard?”

  “I guess so,” said Anthony. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t tell time anyway.”

  “Oh, well, time will tell.”

  “But, Hans, excuse me,” said Anthony. “How can I get back home? I’m going to the zoo tomorrow.”

  “Well, well, well,” replied Hans. “Now, let’s see. Let’s see. You want to go home, you say.”

  “Yes, sir,” Anthony responded.

  “Well, I don’t know how you are going to get home,” said Hans. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

  “But what am I to do?” Anthony asked. “I don’t want to miss going to the zoo.”

  “Well, let me see,” said Hans. “Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock,” he went. “I’ve got it,” said Hans after he had stood for a minute and thought about the situation. “We’ll go talk to the clockmaker.”

  “The clockmaker,” a puzzled Anthony said. “Who’s that?”

  “He’s the guy who always fixes things. That’s where I was going before I stopped to talk to you. I wanted to ask him why I am running backwards,” replied Hans.

  “But where will we find him?”

  “Well, right down that road over there,” said Hans.

  “Winding Way Road?” asked Anthony.

  “Why yes! Why yes!” shouted Hans. “Down that road, I believe so. Come on, come on, Anthony; let’s go.”

  Hans grabbed Anthony by the hand and they took off down Winding Way Road. As they made their way down the road, the valley echoed with tick-tocks, bongs, clings and coo-coos.

  “Hans, Hans, Hans!” shouted Anthony. “Why are we in such a hurry?”

  “Why, my boy, my boy, we must hurry. We must hurry for time is running out.”

  They hurried their way through the valley until they came upon the clockmaker sitting beside the road.

  “Mr. clockmaker, Mr. clockmaker,” said Hans. “Could you help us with this dilemma we’re in?”

  The clockmaker stopped and paused a moment, slightly tilted his head and said, “Why, what is it, my friend?”

  Hans explained to the clockmaker that he was running backwards and that Anthony wanted to go home so he could go to the zoo. Taking everything in to consideration, the clockmaker thought about the situation from all sides. After carefully evaluating the situation, the clockmaker leaned back, scratched his head, tilted forward a slight bit and then told Hans and Anthony what he thought.

  “Well, well, well, my little friends. Hans, the reason that you are running backwards is because the little boy can’t go to sleep. He is watching the clock instead of sleeping. He wants time to pass quickly so he can go to the zoo tomorrow. Because he is staying awake it is causing time to go backwards instead of forward.”

  “But, sir,” said Hans. “How can I go clockwise?”

  “Well, Hans, you have to wake Anthony from his sleep and the only way you can do that is you have to set your alarm to go off and wake him up. When he wakes up, he will be at home and you will start going clockwise again.”

  “But, how can I sound the alarm and awaken him when I am running backwards?”

  “Well, let me see,” said the clockmaker.

  The clockmaker tried to set Hans’ hands but he couldn’t. He tried to set his alarm but he failed. He even tried to unwind him but he was wound too tight.

  “Oh, me—oh, my,” said Hans. “Will I have to stay like this forever?”

  “I don’t know?” replied the clockmaker with a puzzled look. “I’ve done all I can. You’ll have to ask the clockmaker up the road and see if he can help you with your dilemma.”

  Hurriedly, Hans and Anthony took off. They didn’t have a minute to waste.

  “Tick-tock, tick-tock,” went Hans as he and Anthony rushed up Winding Way Road.

  It didn’t take them long to find the clockmaker up the road. When they found him, he was looking inside a bottle.

  “Mr. clockmaker, Mr. clockmaker, will you help us please?”

  The clockmaker paid them no mind.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said Anthony. “Would you help us please?”

  “Why, yes. Why, yes; maybe I can,” he replied.

  Hans and Anthony told the clockmaker what was going on. The clockmaker stepped back and giggled.

  “A glass jug; oh, me—oh, my,” he said. “My friends, my friends, let me explain to you what I do. I save time in bottles. I take care of late time, overtime, time wasted and time forgotten. I just don’t believe, friends, that I can help you at all. Why don’t you try the clockmaker up the way and explain your situation to him. He may be able to help you.”

  “Do you think he can?” asked Anthony.

  “Well, I really don’t know,” said the clockmaker as he looked in the bottle of timeless memory and smiled.

  Just down the way, Hans and Anthony came upon the third clockmaker going through a bag beside the road.

  “Mr. clockmaker, Mr. clockmaker!” yelled Hans.

  “Shhh,” hushed the clockmaker. “Be quiet. Can’t you see I’m very busy with these wheels, gears, gadgets, old sprockets, coils, springs, nuts, bolts and screws?”


  “But, but, but,” said Anthony.

  “Shhh,” hushed the clockmaker. “I have no time to talk and lollygag. If you must know anything, go see Father Time.”

  “I’m never going to get home,” whined Anthony. “I’ll never wake up so I can go to the zoo.”

  “Now, now, now,” comforted Hans. “We’ll go see Father Time and hopefully he’ll be able to help us. Just look at it this way, Anthony. You have plenty of time on your hands to get back home. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” he laughed.

  “Well, I guess you’re right,” Anthony replied as he looked around.

  Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock went the clocks as they rushed to find Father Time. Finally, they came upon Father Time asleep beside the road.

  “Father Time, Father Time!” yelled Hans and Anthony as they tried to awaken him.

  “Uh, what is it! What is it!” he cried as he suddenly awoke and rubbed his eyes.

  Once again, they explained to him what was wrong. Father Time sat for a moment and rubbed his long, white beard.

  “Can you help us? Will you help me get back home?” cried Anthony.

  “Why, I don’t see why not,” replied Father Time. “This, my child, is how it is done. Now, listen friends and listen close. First I must set your clock hands, Hans, for the time Anthony needs to awake and stop you from running. When you stop running, Hans, hold your tocks and ticks. By stopping you, it will force Anthony to wake up since he wants the next day to come so he can go to the zoo.”

  As Father Time set Hans’ hands, Hans held back his tocks and ticks. When Hans stopped, Anthony twisted, turned, squirmed and wiggled in his bed. He didn’t hear a tock-tick or a tick-tock. Suddenly, the alarm went off. Ring—a—ling—ling, ring—a—ling—ling it sounded.

  “Whoopee!” yelled Anthony as he jumped up out of bed. “Mama, Mama,” he cried. “I’m ready to go to the zoo!”

  And the clock that ran backwards went clockwise once more.

  *****

  Giggle Book One

  Giggle Book Two

  Giggle Book Three

  Jawbreakers, Bubble Gum and Stick Candy

  Bobby A. Troutt is a southern writer who writes a variety of short stories and children’s books.