"I haven't done that since I was a boy," said the professor wickedly. "My word, look at all those bubbles. Hold the bottle up to the light. It's like a waterfall, only falling up instead of down."
Lindy said, "The bubbles are like tiny crystal beads. How do they get in there?"
"That's the carbonation," replied the professor. "What's carbonation?"
"Adding carbon dioxide to liquid. Since gas is lighter than liquid the bubbles rise, as you see." He held the bottle close to his ear. "Listen, they make a nice hissing sound."
Lindy took the bottle and listened. Her face registered surprise. "Ooh, it goes up. The noise goes up."
The professor said, "You must practice the art of listening. It will be most important when we get to Whangdoodleland. Do you ever lie in bed and count all the things you can hear?"
"I do," said Tom. "I can hear Mom in the kitchen in the morning and Ethel using the vacuum cleaner, and cars and airplanes and birds. It's nice. Trouble is I never want to get up."
"Listen to the noises right now," said the professor. The children were silent. They heard the rain, a bird calling out in the wood, the fire crackling.
"I'd like to try an experiment," said the professor. "I want you all to close your eyes and keep them closed until I say you can open them. Now I want you to tell me what you can smell. For instance, can you smell the smoke from the fire?"
"Yes," chorused the children.
"Okay. Can you smell the dampness and the rain?"
After a moment's hesitation they nodded.
"Good. Anything else?"
Tom kept his eyes tightly closed and concentrated.
"It smells dusty in here, like hay."
"Good boy," said the professor. "Ben, what am I holding under your nose? Keep your eyes closed."
Ben sniffed, then grinned triumphantly. "Plastic raincoat," he said.
"Lindy, what's this?"
Lindy smelled something vaguely familiar, yet she couldn't quite place it.
"Peanut butter?"
"Terrific," said the professor. "All right, Tom. Keep your eyes closed. What's this?"
"Banana."
"And this?"
Tom sniffed. "I'm not quite sure."
"Can't you smell toasted marshmallow?"
The boy hesitated.
"I'll hold it closer, Tom. Can you smell it now?"
"Yes. Yes, I can."
"Let me smell!" cried Lindy. "Mmm. That's good."
"What about you, Ben? Do you smell it?"
"That's funny. I don't."
"Quite sure?"
Ben tried again. "Yes, quite sure."
"Very well, you may open your eyes," said the professor.
Ben looked around. "I don't see a marshmallow."
"That's because there wasn't one," replied the professor.
"But I smelled it," cried Tom. "I really did."
"I know. I'm delighted. It means you're beginning to make your imagination work for you."
"I wish I could have smelled it," said Ben wistfully.
"You will, Ben. Your turn will come." The professor began to pack what was left of the picnic into the basket. "I think we had better start heading for home. We've quite a ride in front of us, and I don't want to be out after dark without lights. Ben, pour this ginger ale on the fire, will you?"
The children reluctantly helped the professor to tidy up. They donned their raincoats and walked outside to their bicycles.
"I wish we weren't going," said Lindy with a backward glance at the barn.
"We will come again another day." The professor looked up at the sky and drew in a deep breath of rain-fresh air. "I think it's going to clear up." He paused to watch a large bird flying silently across the field toward the wood. "Look. Look. It's probably going to roost for the night. How I'd love to be a bird."
"A Whiffle Bird?" asked Tom with a grin.
The professor chuckled. "No. I'd settle for being a skylark, or maybe a kestrel." He swung up onto his bike and began to pedal unsteadily toward the road.
"Do you know how homing pigeons home, Ben?" he called as the children followed after him.
"No, sir."
"It's probably vision. And it's thought that dolphins use vision above water and guide themselves by the stars." He swerved to avoid a chuckhole. "Amazing, isn't it?"
Lindy brought her bike alongside the professor's.
"You know so much," she said. "Don't you sometimes feel bewildered when you think of the millions of things that put life together?"
The professor smiled. "I'm not bewildered. I'm filled with the deepest awe and wonder. The miracle is that in its complexity it all works." He bumped through a puddle and was drenched with water.
"Oh, fiddlesticks, I'll never get the hang of this contraption."
For the rest of the journey he grumbled and swore at his bicycle. This kept the children in fits of laughter, which was his intention, since it took their minds off the long ride home.
PART TWO
Capture
ONE
As each day passed, the children's ability to look, listen, feel, taste and smell improved immeasurably.
The professor taught them the wonders of music; not only instrumental music, but the music of running water and the sighing of the wind, the hum of a city and the song of the birds.
Lindy was by far the best pupil. Her imagination was so vivid and her senses so aware that she easily pulled ahead. The professor knew that she was already capable of making the journey to Whangdoodleland, but the decision to go had to be delayed because the boys were not ready. Tom was doing well, but Ben was having difficulties. For the first time in his life he discovered that being the eldest did not make him the most competent. Being thirteen years of age, he had more to question, more to doubt. He had to fight logic and his own stubborn opinion of things.
Mrs. Potter asked Lindy one day, "What on earth do you find to do over there all the time?"
"Oh, we play and have tea and the professor teaches us." Lindy's voice was deceptively casual. "What does he teach?"
"He talks about life and stuff like that. We look through the microscope, and we go for walks and rides. It's great fun."
Mrs. Potter changed the subject. "You know, Daddy and I are going to see Grandma on Saturday. We'd love to take you with us, especially since it's your midterm holiday next week. But Grandma just isn't well enough. We'll be back a week from Sunday. In the meantime I've arranged for Ethel to stay with you."
"What if the professor asks us out?" Lindy wanted to know.
"That's all right. I'll tell Ethel that you'll probably be spending a great deal of time with him. Then she won't worry about you."
When the children visited the professor the next day, Lindy told him about her parents' plans.
He looked thoughtful. Then he made a startling announcement.
"I think that the time has come to start a new phase of your lessons. I think you are ready to try the sympathetic hats."
"Sympathetic hats?" said Tom.
"Actually, I call them scrappy caps," said the professor with a smile. "A scrappy cap is a covering worn on the head, which is sympathetic to the brain's impulses and desires."
"Do they have some special power or something?" asked Ben.
"I would say that there is something very magical about scrappy caps," replied the professor. "Let me show them to you."
He left the children and a moment later returned carrying three brightly colored objects.
"These hats are your passports to success. In spite of all our hard work, I doubt that you'd come close to seeing the Whangdoodle unless you were wearing one of these. Once we begin the great adventure, you may not—indeed you must not—ever remove them from your heads. Not only will they help us to get to Whangdoodleland, but more importantly, without them, we will not be able to find our way home."
The professor held up an exquisite bonnet made of white lace and linen and brilliant red chintz. "Lindy, this is your h
at. It comes from the Netherlands. The underlining is made of the finest linen. See how the red topping is covered with meadow flowers and hens and roosters and rabbits?"
"It's lovely," said Lindy.
"Hold it carefully. But don't put it on your head," cautioned the professor.
"Tom, this is yours." He held out a bright blue felt cap that resembled a funnel with the cloth pipe pointing backwards. "It comes from Madeira. The purpose of this little pipe was to hold a sprig of rosemary which gave the wearer the benefit of its magical powers. Did you know that in ancient Greece students wore rosemary twined in their hair while studying for their examinations? It is supposed to strengthen memory, and is thought to bring success to any undertaking."
Tom took the hat and held it carefully.
The professor handed Ben an Indian headband with a small tassel hanging from it. "Ben, yours comes from Guatemala. It was made by the Mayas. They were highly skilled people who were able to record history by means of picture writing. You can see some on this band. Notice how it is actually one long piece which has been wound around thirteen times, and that the coils have been sewn together to keep the shape. Thirteen was considered a magic number."
The professor looked at the children and smiled. "You will discover that your sympathetic hats make all the difference. Once they are upon your heads you will experience a great feeling of exhilaration. Tomorrow we will begin to practice wearing them."
Lindy walked eagerly home from school the next day, happily contemplating the midterm holiday and the time she and her brothers would spend with the professor. She was desperately eager to begin the new lessons with the scrappy caps. She had the feeling that something wonderful was going to happen. She began to sing:
I've got a pretty hat
To wear upon my head,
And it is filled with magic,
Or so the professor said.
She skipped around a lamppost and ran full tilt into someone who was leaning against it. Her books went flying in all directions.
"Oops, I'm so sorry." Lindy was very startled. "Hello, little girl," said a distinctly unusual voice. Lindy looked up.
The stranger smiled and lifted his hat in greeting. "You dropped your books. Allow me."
Lindy watched as the man bent from the waist and scooped up her books with his extraordinarily long arms.
"Clumsy of me," he said. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
The sound of his voice reminded her of wind whistling through a long tunnel.
"May I walk with you a little way and carry your books?" he asked.
Lindy remembered her parents' warning never to speak with strangers. "Well, I—"
"You're Melinda Potter, aren't you?"
She was completely taken by surprise.
"Yes, I am."
"The professor is a good friend of mine."
"You mean Professor Savant?" Lindy experienced a wave of relief.
"The very same. We have spent many pleasant evenings together. He talks of you so much."
The stranger pulled a golden Yo-Yo from his pocket and executed a quick trick with it.
Lindy fell into step beside him as he began to walk. "How are things coming along with your trip to Whangdoodleland?" he asked casually.
Her jaw dropped. "You know about that?"
"Good heavens, yes. I've known about it for some time. The professor and I often chat about it."
"Oh." She was surprised that someone else knew of their plans. The golden Yo-Yo flashed in the sunlight and made a soft humming sound. She glanced up at the odd-looking stranger.
"I expect you'll be making a move before long?" he said.
"To Whangdoodleland?"
"Yes."
"Er . . . well, as a matter of fact we will. We're trying the scrappy caps this afternoon."
"Scrappy caps?" He looked startled.
"Oh, I should say sympathetic hats," Lindy said and smiled. "They're very pretty." She was fascinated by the whirling, bobbing Yo-Yo. "They're going to make all the difference. It'll be the most wonderful adventure in the whole world. We'll meet the Whiffle Bird and see the Flutterbyes and lots of other creatures."
"You really think you'll get there?"
"Of course we will. The professor says we're nearly ready. It'll be any day now."
"I'm beginning to believe it." The stranger spoke in a grim voice, but Lindy was too enthusiastic to notice. She pulled him to a halt at the gate of her house.
"This is where I live. I'm afraid I have to go now."
"Well, we'll be seeing each other again, I'm sure." He bowed and shook her hand.
Lindy had the impression that she was holding a piece of wet seaweed.
"Take care, little girl. I would hate to see anything happen to you."
"I will. Goodbye."
Lindy took her books and walked to the front door of her house. She turned around to wave politely, but to her surprise her escort had vanished. The street was completely empty.
TWO
It was four o'clock when the children arrived at the professor's house.
"I met a friend of yours this afternoon," Lindy said.
"A friend of mine?" The professor seemed preoccupied and a trifle nervous as he ushered the children into the garden.
"You know, the funny thin man. He didn't tell me his name. But he said you were very good friends and that you spent many evenings together."
The professor stopped and looked sharply at Lindy. Then he said quietly, "Tell me exactly what he looked like."
"Oh, sort of long and wobbly-looking. Kind of sharp at the elbows. He has a funny voice too."
"You say you met him this afternoon?"
"Yes. He walked home from school with me. He knew all about Whangdoodleland and everything."
"Good Lord," said the professor. "Good Lord."
“What's the matter?" asked Lindy. "You do know him, don't you?"
"I certainly do." He seemed a little stunned and passed a hand across his brow. "Did you talk about the hats this afternoon? Did you tell him we were nearly ready?"
"Yes," she said, beginning to feel anxious. "Wasn't that all right? If he's a friend of yours . . ."
The professor put a reassuring arm around her shoulders. "Do you realize you were talking with the Prock?"
The boys looked startled and Lindy's heart gave a big jump.
'Who's the Prock?" she whispered.
"He's one of the most important creatures in Whangdoodleland. He's like a prime minister. Besides helping the Whangdoodle run the country, his job is to maintain the safety of the place. The 'oily' Prock, as he's sometimes called, does everything he can to stop anyone from gaining entry and getting close to the Whangdoodle."
"But why did he come and see me?" asked Lindy.
"To find out all he could about our trip. Since you are the youngest, Lindy, he knew you'd be the most unsuspecting. Dear me, this puts a whole new complexion on things. We had better have a talk."
The professor led the way to the summerhouse and the children sat down and waited for him to speak. He paced up and down for a while. Finally, he turned to face them.
"Look, this is the situation. The Prock has found out that we are almost ready to leave for Whangdoodleland. He is a very clever fellow and I have no doubt that he will do everything he can to stop us. I had hoped we would be able to get a head start without his knowing about it, but I underestimated him. So, we have to make a decision. Knowing that he is waiting for us, are we going to attempt our journey or aren't we?"
"Let's go anyway," Ben said instantly.
"Me too," Tom agreed. "I'm not afraid of a dumb old Prock, even if he is a prime minister."
The professor looked at Lindy. "How do you feel, darling?"
She hesitated and then asked in a small voice, "Can he hurt us?"
The professor thought about it. "He can do a great deal to frighten us."
"He didn't seem frightening when I met him," Lindy reasoned.
"Th
en let's go," said Tom eagerly.
"Come on, Lindy," Ben said. "Look how brave you were on Halloween."
Lindy clenched her hands tightly. "Okay. It would be a shame to waste all our hard work."
The professor smiled approvingly. "Then we are unanimous. There remains only one thing to be said. Stay close to me and do as I say! No matter what happens, you must obey me. Is that understood?"
The children nodded.
"All right then. Put on the scrappy caps."
"How come you don't wear one?" asked Tom.
"I've been studying Whangdoodleland for a long time. After years of practice I am able to go without a hat."
The professor helped Lindy tie her bonnet under her chin. He placed the blue felt cap on Tom's head and straightened it. Ben put on his headband and the professor adjusted the tassel so that it hung correctly.
"Now," he said, "I want you to remain seated and be very still. Do not be surprised if you feel just a little dizzy or if there is a buzzing in your head. The caps are powerful, but they will not harm you."
The children did as they were told. Lindy felt lightheaded. It was the feeling she had experienced before. She was acutely aware of the garden and the summerhouse and the professor standing close by.
Tom was so excited that he gripped the sides of his chair until his knuckles showed white.
Ben tried to shut out the distracting thoughts that were threatening his concentration. He was trembling and hoped he would not let the others down at this crucial moment.
The professor spoke quietly. "Relax. Be calm. Allow the power of the magic hats to flow into you. Listen to the sounds. Feel the fresh air. Look at the garden and imprint the scene upon your memory. Very slowly close your eyes and remain aware of it all—just as we have always practiced."
The children had the odd sensation that the world was beginning to spin and tumble around them. The professor's voice continued. "Feel your minds opening, floating. Remember where we are going. Reach out for it. Reach. It's there. Right there. Open your eyes now, and look. Look, dear children, and you will see that it is time we were on our way."
The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles Page 5
