“You’re just saying that to be nice. If only there were more minty-flavored animals to eat—but there aren’t any in Zambia,” said Steve. “Are you minty?” he asked hopefully.
“I don’t actually know,” admitted Wilf, “but I’m almost certain I’m not.”
“Sorry I can’t be of more help,” said Steve. “But good luck with the whole ARMY thing.”
The next animal they met was a snake named Colin. Wilf trembled from head to foot and then had a little faint and then woke up again rather suddenly when Dot stuck her fingers up his nose.
“I’d love to join your ARMY!” said Colin. “I think it sounds great!”
“At last!” said Alan. “That’s the spirit!”
“Will there be other animals?” asked Colin.
“Oh yes,” said Alan. “Hundreds of other animals. Thousands. Probably millions.”
“Wow!” said Colin. “What fun!”
“I know!” said Alan. “I don’t think we can have a uniform, but I thought all the animals could wear a sort of toggle around their necks, with a little bow and an A on it.”
“The problem with that,” observed Wilf, “is that it could be tricky with snakes because they’re all neck.”
“True,” said Colin.
“And giraffes are fifty percent neck,” said Wilf.
“And some animals don’t have necks at all,” said Colin. “Like crabs. Or you,” he added, peering at Alan and his lack of neck.
“OK, OK, forget the toggle. I’ll think of something else,” said Alan crossly.
“No, I love the toggle idea,” said Colin. “And besides, there won’t be any other snakes so . . .”
“There will be other snakes,” said Alan. “Lots of other snakes.”
“Oh,” said Colin. “In that case, I can’t be in your ARMY.”
“Why not?” said Alan.
“Because I’m scared of snakes,” said Colin.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” said Alan.
“They’re just so slimy and slithery and, urgh, I just shudder when I think about them.”
“I know! Hideous!” said Wilf. “No offense,” he added quickly.
“But you are a snake,” said Alan.
“I know. But I’m not slimy or slithery so that’s all right.”
“You know what you should do?” said Wilf.
“Yes! Snap out of it!” interrupted Alan.
“No,” continued Wilf. “You should look at my leaflet about how to stop worrying. It’s ever so helpful.”
“Oh, thank you so much!” said Colin.
By the end of the day they had spoken to at least a dozen animals, but none of them wanted to join Alan’s ARMY.
“This is going VERY badly,” said Alan.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Wilf. “I’ve given away a lot of my leaflets, and if they follow the advice then—”
“I don’t care about your stupid leaflets! I care about my ANIMAL ARMY. So far there’s only one animal in it—and that’s Kevin.”
They looked over at Kevin, who was scooting around on his bottom again. He noticed them looking and slowed down a bit.
“What?” he said.
“What am I going to do?” asked Alan.
Kevin thought very, very hard.
“Ooh, ooh, I know,” he said excitedly. “We could go back to the hotel and eat those biscuits that are at the bottom of your green bag.”
“What am I going to do about the ANIMAL ARMY?” said Alan. “Not the biscuits.”
“Oh,” said Kevin. And he had another long think. “Ooh, ooh, I know!” he said excitedly. “We could go back to the hotel, find your green bag, and then eat the biscuits.”
“Kevin,” said Alan sternly. “I want you to think again, and this time I want you to give me an answer that isn’t about biscuits.”
Kevin thought for a very long time.
“I’ve got it!” he said triumphantly. “No. Wait. It’s still about biscuits.”
“It seems to me,” said Wilf, “that a lot of these animals are very worried. Perhaps if you started something like a support group—instead of an ARMY—then that might be more popular.”
“You’re right!” shouted Alan. “It’s all your fault!”
“That wasn’t actually what I was saying . . .”
“But it is. It’s all your stupid fault with your stupid sympathy and your stupid understanding and your stupid niceness—you’ve ruined my plans. And you must be punished!”
“Now, hang on,” said Wilf.
“No. I’m not hanging on. I’m right and you must be punished. The question is—how shall I punish you?”
Alan scratched his chin in a pondery way. “What do you think, Kevin?” he asked.
“Hmm? Oh! Yes. Well, I think what could work is if we went back to the hotel and—”
“Shut up!” said Alan. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it. I shall tie you to this tree and leave you for the wild animals to eat.”
And with that, Alan tied Wilf and Dot to a tree and walked off grumbling, “That’ll teach them to be nice.”
Wilf was tremblified. He felt all wibbly and puny. His eyeballs went all hot. And his knees wanted to bend the wrong way. What was he going to do? He wished he could just go back to the hotel and snack on biscuits like Kevin, but he couldn’t—he was going to be someone else’s biscuit and he didn’t like the idea of that at all. He had a great big old worry and then he had a great big old think and then he thought so hard that his brain felt quite dizzy.
And then he had an idea.
Wilf didn’t want to be eaten. But most animals are carnivores, which means they like eating meat. And Wilf knew that he and Dot were made of meat so animals would definitely want to eat them. But if Wilf could make them look less meaty and more vegetably, they might not be interested. Dot ate EVERYTHING—including things that weren’t actually food. But one thing Dot would never eat was a sprout. So Wilf just had to make themselves look like sprouts.
Wilf reached into his backpack for a green felt-tip. His hands were tied together so it was tricky, and he had to take the lid off with his mouth. Then he got the pen and colored himself and Dot green from head to toe (also jolly tricky when your hands are tied together).
Luckily, Dot was sort of sprout-shaped anyway so she looked very convincing, but Wilf was skinnier—so he crouched down and tried to look sprouty.
While he was being sprouty, Wilf reached for his “HOW TO STOP WORRYING” leaflet. NUMBER FOUR said:
4) Trying to work out a complicated math problem can help to distract yourself.
Wilf screwed up his eyes. 643 x 798? Um . . . No, that was far too complicated. How about 64 x 79? That was still a bit too tricky. 6 x 7? Wilf thought that he might have been able to work that out if he wasn’t green and hot, but, as everyone knows, it is very difficult doing math when you’re green and hot. Maybe 6 + 7? Could he do that? He could definitely work out 6 + 7—that was easy.1 Easy-peasy. Oh yes, 6 + 7. Who doesn’t know what 6 + 7 is?2 Everyone knows what 6 + 7 is, don’t they?3 Yes, of course they do. It’s just Wilf wasn’t actually in the mood to add 6 to 7 just at this precise moment, thank you very much.4
Wow, thought Wilf. That actually worked! I didn’t think about being eaten at all. He opened his eyes with surprise—only to discover twelve eyes staring hungrily back at him.
There was a huge black rhino, a ginormous hippo, a zebra, a giraffe, a warthog, and a gigantic elephant all looking at him and Dot, and licking their lips.
“Herro, effalent,” said Dot.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!” said Wilf.
“Herro, hittototomus,” said Dot.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!” said Wilf.
“Herro, whino,” said Dot, sticking her fingers firmly up the rhino’s nose.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!” said Wilf and then he fainted again.
The animals all backed away a few steps, looking startled. Wilf lifted his head weakly and saw a determined-looking girl squeez
ing her way between the rhino and the zebra.
“What’s all this noise?” she said. “Who are you?”
Wilf was still feeling a bit swimmy-headed but he managed to say, “I am a sprout. And this is my sister—also a sprout.”
“Oh perfect! I was looking for some vegetables to eat for dinner,” said the girl. “And so were all these animals by the look of things.”
“Oh dear,” said Wilf. “I thought animals all ate meat.”
“No, lots of them eat leaves or fruit or vegetables. I bet they’d love two big juicy sprouts.”
The warthog’s tummy rumbled.
“Who are you?” asked Wilf in wobbly voice.
“I’m Abimbola,” said the girl. “You can call me Abi.”
“The thing is, Abi,” whispered Wilf, “between you and me, I’m not actually a sprout.”
Abi giggled. “I had guessed.”
“How?” asked Wilf.
“Well, sprouts don’t normally talk. Or wear clothes. Or faint.”
“Ah,” said Wilf.
“Or grow in Zambia.”
“Oops. Perhaps that wasn’t one of my best plans.”
Abi leaned down and untied the rope that Alan had knotted around Wilf and Dot.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked.
“We’re lost and we’re miles from home and we don’t know what to do!” said Wilf, his voice wobbling again as he tried not to cry.
“How exciting!” said Abi.
“It’s not exciting, it’s awful,” said Wilf.
“It sounds like a wonderful adventure to me,” said Abi. “And I love adventures.”
“But there are great big elephants!” said Wilf, trembling.
“I know! Aren’t they beautiful?” said Abi enthusiastically.
“And great big hippos!” said Wilf, shaking.
Abi giggled. “I know! I love the way the tiny birds balance on their heads!”
“And there are fierce lions!” said Wilf, quivering.
“Those are my favorite!” said Abi. “They run so fast!”
“Yes, that’s what I’m worried about,” said Wilf.
“Where do you need to get to?” asked Abi. “Perhaps I can help.”
“I need to get back to my mom,” said Wilf. “She’s at the Abba Hotel.”
“I live at the Abba Hotel too!” said Abi. “My parents run it. I know exactly how we get there. What we do is catch an elephant north—for three stops, then change onto a westbound giraffe. Then get off the giraffe and transfer to hippo,” said Abi. “Follow me.”
Abi skipped off happily. Wilf didn’t move.
“Why aren’t you coming?” asked Abi.
“The problem is, I don’t really like animals,” admitted Wilf.
“Don’t like animals? That’s stupid,” said Abi. “I love ALL animals. It seems to me that all humans do is complain about things all the time.”
“Well, it’s not that I don’t like animals. It’s more that I’m scared of them,” said Wilf. “Animals are so scary and dangerous.”
“Not nearly as scary and dangerous as humans,” said Abi.
Wilf thought about Alan and wondered if Abi was right.
“Also,” said Abi, “animals are much cleaner than humans.”
Wilf looked at Dot, who was drawing a picture in the mud with her own snot.
“Well, yes, that is probably true,” admitted Wilf.
Shortly afterward Wilf, Dot, and Abi stood waiting for their elephant. As they waited, the sun slowly began to set. I don’t know how it looked. You know I hate describing things. Probably big and orange.
“Look at the sun!” said Wilf. “It’s so pink!”5
“Wed!” said Dot. Which was her way of saying “red.”6
“Almost purple!” said Abi.7
At that moment, an elephant came into view, heading their way. And before you ask, it was big and gray, all right?
“Here comes the elephant!” said Abi.
“It’s so big!” gasped Wilf.8
“And gwey!” said Dot.9
The elephant (whose name was Susan) stopped next to them, and Abi helped Wilf and Dot climb up on its back. She clambered on behind them and off they went.
It was lovely and warm on the elephant’s back and it moved with a reassuring sway. Wilf couldn’t stop smiling. What a wonderful way to travel! Even better than upstairs on the front seat of the number 21 bus. The view was incredible and the sounds of the jungle floated toward them on the evening air.
Wilf became almost hypnotized by the gentle rhythm of the animal beneath them, and it took several moments for him to realize Abi was calling him.
“Wilf! It’s time to change animals! We need to catch this giraffe.” And she pointed to a giraffe walking across the path ahead of them.
The giraffe was—oh, come on, you know what a giraffe looks like. It was giraffey.
“Wow!” breathed Wilf. “It’s so graceful!”10
“And elegant,” agreed Abi.11
“And giwaffey,” squeaked Dot.12
Abi helped them scramble down from the elephant and change onto the giraffe (whose name was Lisa). This was a less comfortable ride! They bumped and wobbled and wumped and bobbled, which made them all laugh as they bounced around on top of the giraffe. And the more they laughed, the faster the giraffe walked, and the faster the giraffe walked, the more they bumped and wumped and laughed.
“Lo-oo-ook we-ee-ee a-aaa-re ju-uuust i-iiin ti-iiime fo-or our hi-iiii-p-p-p-p-p-ooooo!” said Abi. Even her voice was wobbling and bobbling. And they slid off the giraffe and ran toward their hippo.
The hippo (named Michelle) was big. There. I’ve painted a picture with words. Happy now?
“That hippo is huuuuge!” said Wilf.13
“Ginormous!” said Dot.14
“It’s the biggest hippo I have EVER seen!” said Abi.15 “And I’ve seen a LOT of hippos.”16
The hippo was so wide, in fact, that they could all lie down across its back and stare up at the stars, which were starting to twinkle above them.
“What are you going to be when you grow up?” asked Abi.
“I don’t know,” said Wilf. “I worry about that a lot. What about you?”
“I’m going to open a sanctuary for sick snakes,” said Abi. “My grandfather was a snake charmer and I’ve always loved snakes.”
“What’s a snake charmer?” asked Wilf.
“It is someone who plays music to snakes, which makes the snakes dance,” explained Abi.
“I wish someone would do that with me,” said Wilf. “I’m a terrible dancer.”
Abi laughed. Then she looked serious and said, “People often don’t like snakes, but that’s because they don’t understand them.”
“Sometimes people do that with me too,” said Wilf quietly.
“Well, I don’t always understand people,” said Abi, “but I understand snakes. And I want to help them.”
“Wow!” said Wilf. “That’s amazing. Maybe I could help the snakes too.”
“Yes!” said Abi. “But how?”
“Well, I’m really good at knitting, so I could knit sleeping bags for them. I can already do socks and I think a snake sleeping bag would be a bit like a sock.”
“That’s a great idea,” said Abi.
They lay in silence for a while and stared at the stars some more. The movement of the hippo was like being rocked to sleep.
“You know what?” said Abi.
“What?” said Wilf sleepily.
“We don’t have to wait until we’re grown up. We could do it now.”
1 It’s 11.
2 I do, it’s 12.
3 Actually it’s 14.
4 What an idiot. It’s 15. Obviously. Or is it? I’ll get back to you.
5 My mistake. Pink.
6 So maybe a reddish pink.
7 All right, purple then.
8 Told you so.
9 You see? I am a genius.
10 Perhaps that’s a
better word than giraffey.
11 Also a good word.
12 She’s no fool.
13 He’s exaggerating.
14 Well, you know, she’s little, so everything looks big to her.
15 She probably hasn’t seen many.
16 All right, all right, it was REALLY big. I’m doing my best. Give me a break.
The next morning, back at the hotel, Wilf woke to the sound of arguing outside his window. It was Alan and Kevin Phillips.
“Did you or did you not eat Pam’s left shoe?” asked Alan.
“I did,” said Kevin.
“Bad boy! Shoes are not snacks,” said Alan.
“Well, I wish you’d told me that before I ate her right shoe,” said Kevin with a hiccup.
“Kevin!” said Alan crossly.
“I was upset about her combing my hair,” explained Kevin.
“Well, why didn’t you just say that?” asked Alan, exasperated.
“I did! By eating her shoe,” explained Kevin patiently.
“The thing is,” said Alan, “Pam already doesn’t like you and—”
“Doesn’t like me?!” said Kevin. “Pam LOVES me. She shared her breakfast with me.”
“Shared it or left you alone in the room with it?” said Alan.
“Same thing,” said Kevin.
“No, it is not!” said Alan, and he picked up the POOBUM and threw it angrily onto the ground.
Oh dear, thought Wilf. Alan and Kevin hadn’t been getting along very well recently. Wilf got out of bed and got dressed. As he was tying his shoelaces, he noticed a note from his mom stuck to the door. It said:
Wilf swapped his shoes quickly. Alan looking after Dot seemed like a VERY BAD IDEA indeed. He rushed outside to find them.
“Oh,” said Alan, disappointed. “Not dead then?”
“No. Sorry,” said Wilf. “Where’s Dot?”
“Dot?” asked Alan.
Wilf the Mighty Worrier is King of the Jungle Page 3
