by Anna Cuffaro
Jet left, ready to carry out his mission.
9 Stud and Bird Dog
Sam told Stud that Bird Dog wanted to see him.
“Send him up”, shouted Stud. “Ah, Bird Dog, what chicken nugget d’ya have for me?”
“I just wanted to like update ya on the Gatwick case, sir. I gotta email from Miss Acid”.
“Ah, that Miss Acid! One hellava lady! They don’t make ’em like that any more. Come on, what’s she say?”
“Miss Acid wrote that she had first seen Gatwick Bear in Gatwick Airport last Thursday, in the mornin’, sir. At first she thought he was a passenger, but then she thought he was a tramp lookin’ to get outta the rain. Now, if he was just homeless he wouldn’t, like, go back there. He’d go live in the subway or somethin’. But, he hangs around that there airport. The next day, he was captured on CCTV in disguise, wearin’ dark glasses and fake sideburns. He was up to somethin’, for sure. Miss Acid found out that he’d been sleepin’ in the brush closet. When she went to check it out, she found plans for blowin’ up the airport. There was a map of the airport and five symbols, mushroom-like, y’know, like bomb explosions. One was set to go off under a table at the coffee bar, then another three in different garbage cans around the airport. Then she spotted him...”
“That leaves another one, you dumb head”, Stud interrupted.
Bird Dog counted them on his claws.
“Oh, yeah, sorry, sir, the other one was on a seat in departures. Then she saw him airside wanting to leave the country. She tried to stop him, but he got away. Miss Acid can’t make this out. But, as we know, he’s in Switzerland now”.
“Yeah, and that dumb head of a raven is gonna report to us. If somethin’ goes wrong, we kill him”.
“Who will we kill, the raven or Gatwick, sir?”, Bird Dog asked.
“Both of ’em, of course, you stupid or somethin’? Where’s this place of Lugano, anyway?”
“We looked it up on google earth, sir. It’s south of the Alps and they speak Italian there, sir”.
“Italian!! Are you crazy? They speak Italian in Italy, and Swiss in Switzerland. Sometimes, I wonder if you’re up to this. I wanna know about bombs. Any sign of ’em out there in London?”
“No, sir. Miss Acid thinks that he’s gone to Switzerland to recruit other terrorists and to withdraw money from a Swiss bank account to finance his evil doings, sir”.
“What a woman! She’s just brilliant. These English matrons are a step above the rest, I tell ya!”
“Yeah, sir, I’m sure they are”.
“Focus on the job, will ya? Let me know when there’s some news. Get outta my sight now and close the door behind ya”.
“Yes, sir”.
10 Lugano City Airport
Gatwick had never been so excited in all his life. He had flown on a plane, won the lottery, met his little sister, and had got all that attention. What else could a cub want? Once he had read an article in The Guardian saying that winning the lottery didn’t make you happy at all. It made you feel sad as if your life was pointless – you had no direction – and it made you feel guilty about getting money for nothing. But Gatwick felt none of that. He was absolutely gob-smacked exhilarated, never been so happy to be alive.
So trundling his big box on wheels, tied up with red rope with his left paw, and carrying his small blue Edwardian case, with rusty catches and an even rustier big lock, in his right paw, he made his way to the arrivals hall. His little sister was sitting on a big red suitcase parked near the toilets. ‘I must speak to her now that she’s alone’, Gatwick thought.
“Hello. I’ve been thinking about you. I’ve been thinking that you must be my little sister”, Gatwick summoned up the courage to say.
“How do you know that?”
“Well, I don’t have a family, so I must have lost it, or my family lost me. That is, a family is made up of parents and cubs. I’m a cub, you’re a cub. You are on your own, and so am I. You are smaller than me, and you’re female, so logic tells me that you must be my little sister. I’m Gatwick”.
“Thank you, Gatwick. What you have just said is so true. Now that you’ve told me, I know who I am. I’m Little Sister”. She liked the sound of that.
“Little Sister, I want to free you. Why don’t we go off together? Why don’t you join the Freedom for Bears Club? You know, you don’t have to spend the rest of your life on a dusty bookshelf in a little girl’s bedroom, while she goes out to play and has fun with her friends. Don’t you see you are treated like an object?”
Little Sister thought how true this was. She turned her head to see if the family she belonged to were coming out of the toilets. No, they were still in there.
“All right, Gatwick, if you are my big brother, I want to be with you. You’re right, I’ve been a doormat all my life”.
“Of course, we can look after each other. Jump into my box and hide in there”. Gatwick parked his small blue Edwardian case, with rusty catches and an even rustier big lock, on the floor, untied the red rope around his big box on wheels, and let Little Sister jump in. He quickly tied the box up again.
Gatwick trundled Little Sister to the information desk. He wanted to enquire about Jet before taking the bus to the city.
“Excuse me, Miss, have you seen a jet black raven called Jet who flies like a jet?”
“I don’t think so. I will ask my colleague. Maria, have you seen a jet black raven called Jet who flies like a jet? No, sorry, she hasn’t seen Jet, either”.
Gatwick waited a while: ‘He might get here soon’, he thought. He waited and waited, but his friend didn’t turn up. As he trundled Little Sister out of the airport, Gatwick saw some brochures. He took a handful and made his way to the bus. First they would go down to the city.
But, Jet had already arrived and, from his hiding place, had seen Little Sister get into Gatwick’s box. He followed them out of the airport.
Gatwick stood at the bus stop and studied the timetable. There were lots of numbers above ten. Scratching his head in confusion, he thought: ‘Mmmm, maybe I should just wait for the bus to turn up’. The bus soon came along. When Gatwick tried to get the box up the steps, he found he couldn’t manage it – Little Sister was heavier than she looked. The bus driver stepped down to help him.
“Mamma mia, that’sa heavy. What hava you got in der, many brick?”
“No, I’ve got a fishing rod, a pencil sharpener, and my Little Sister”.
Gatwick held out the silver shilling to pay for his fare.
“Oh, you are so simpatico. I take you free because you maka me laugh such much”.
Gatwick had forgotten to tell him that he also had a cheque for £20,000 in there, but never mind, it was too late to tell him now. The driver was still laughing. When they arrived in the city centre, the driver helped Gatwick down the steps with the box.
“Excuse me. Could you tell me where there’s a bank?”
“Oh, you are so simpatico. In Lugano much bank, much bank. More bank in Lugano than light in the street. You go, you see bank”.
It was true. As soon as Gatwick turned around he saw a bank. But before he cashed his cheque, he wanted to let Little Sister out of the box. He carefully untied the knot and opened the box. He peered into the box. Little Sister sprang out as chuffed as can be. She would have crashed into his round head, if he hadn’t been quick to get out of the way:
“Oh, it was so hot in there, Gatwick. I thought I was going to die”.
“Don’t be silly Little Sister, you were only born a few years ago. You’re too young to die. Put all those nasty thoughts out of your mind. Let’s enjoy ourselves”.
“Of course, I will, Gatwick”. Little Sister saw a handbag shop. “Oh, Gatwick, please, please, please, will you buy me a handbag?”
“You know I will. It’s just that we’ve got to go to the bank first to get some money”.
So Little Sister and Gatwick crossed the road. They were good cubs. When the little green man appeared on the lights
, they walked across. A big white van was parked on that side of the road and the bears had to walk round it to get into the bank. There were roadworks, some men were digging a huge hole and laying cables. Gatwick strolled into the bank with Little Sister trailing after him. Jet had followed them into the bank and swooped down behind a plant where, hiding amongst the leaves, he had a direct line of sight to the cashiers. Little Sister lolled in an armchair and admired the pictures in a magazine, while she was waiting for Gatwick.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Cashier. I won a lot of money scratching a card with my wooden spoon on my flight here. The flight attendant gave me this piece of paper. She told me I could swap it for a lot of money in a bank”.
“I see. I needa to check this and will be backa in a minute”.
Jet couldn’t understand what was happening. He had never been in a bank before. In fact, he didn’t even know it was a bank, neither did he know what a bank was. But, he had to have something to tell the Eagles otherwise they would get nasty. The cashier came back.
“Sorry to keepa you waiting, sir. I hada to talk to the manager”.
His phone rang. He kept saying: “Yes..., no..., yes..., no... Excuse me sir, we suggest thata you investa some of your money with us. We have some very interesting deals for you. We coulda make your money work for you”.
Gatwick didn’t know what he was talking about. He blinked three times, then said:
“Could I have the money, please?”
“Well, if you insista, sir; but I musta warn you thata going around with £20,000 in cash is not gooda. You mighta lose it. Woulda you like your money in pounds or francs?” the cashier asked.
Gatwick didn’t know, so he shouted across the bank to see what Little Sister thought: “Do we want the money in pounds or francs?”
“Half and half”, she answered.
“Half and half”, Gatwick repeated to the cashier.
The cashier started counting the money out, and placed it in wads on the counter. Each wad had an elastic band stretched around it. Gatwick opened his box, moved the fishing rod to one side, then started placing the money neatly in rows in his box. He’d always been neat. First, the pounds; and then the francs on top. Gatwick thanked the cashier very much for giving him all that money. His box was now quite heavy, luckily it had wheels and Little Sister helped pull it along.
11 Shopping
Little Sister hadn’t forgotten about the bag shop. So that was their next stop. There were so many different kinds of handbags in the shop. Gatwick wondered why they couldn’t all be made in the same colour and shape. Little Sister had to touch nearly all of them. In the end, after a lot of oohing and aahing, she decided on a lime-green leather bag with four compartments, two zips and two shoulder straps. But, then... her eyes fell on the suitcases. The shop assistant came to the rescue:
“Would you like me to show you a few?” she asked in perfect English.
“Oh, you are English?”, Little Sister said. “Yes, please, I’d love to see that one over there”.
“Now, this one is the latest model. It’s a luxury Smartmite made of very tough ABS material. It comes in pink with silver trim and has two combination locks, which makes it the most secure suitcase ever made. It has a push-pull handle at the side and moves very smoothly and easily. It has four wheels, three gears and two brakes, which are activated by treading on this pedal at the bottom of the case. I have one of these myself, and this is the last one we have in stock. We sold the others in just a few days”. Little Sister was so lucky, she had to have it. She was without words. Never had she seen such a beautiful object. “And, when you open the suitcase, it plays music. You can have any ring-tone you like”. Well, that did it for Gatwick: “What about Knees Up Mother Brown?” he asked. Little Sister and the shop-assistant agreed. That was a splendid idea.
Gatwick undid the red rope around his box and asked the lady how many notes she wanted. Five of those with 100 written on them, please. That was all right; Gatwick could count to five. In exchange, he received a small coin back, which he tossed into his box. It was so good to see Little Sister happy. With her lime-green leather handbag and pink ABS suitcase, she looked very stylish walking down the most fashionable road in Lugano City.
“Now it’s your turn to buy something”, she giggled.
It wasn’t long before Gatwick was attracted by a shop window with an amazing variety of chocolates on show. “Wow! What a feast!” So they went in. Gatwick was sorry that all the chocolates in the shop couldn’t fit into his box. So, he asked if he could have ten boxes of chocolates. That was the most he could have because he didn’t know what the number after ten was. The shop assistant started filling the shiny gold boxes with the finest, exquisite, hand-crafted chocolates giving him a mixture of: truffles, pralines, chocolate covered walnuts, nougat, marzipan, Turkish delight, exotic creams, and coffee and mint creams; but, no liqueurs because they were only cubs. She gave them a big heart-shaped chocolate free of charge. She said she wanted two of those big notes. All the boxes went into a carrier bag. The two cubs walked back down the road eating the heart-shaped chocolate, truly satisfied with themselves. What a day it had been!
12 The Accident
As they walked past the bank, Gatwick, not looking where he was going (and still thinking about those tasty chocolates) stumbled on the kerb, tripped over himself and fell head first straight into the hole, along with his big box on wheels, tied up with red rope, and his small blue Edwardian case, with rusty catches and an even rustier big lock, and the chocolates. Little Sister looked into the hole, and couldn’t see anything except for his paws waving around. She looked at the men in the white van with imploring watery eyes, but they were so heartless that they zoomed away. There were all kinds of pipes and cables down there, and they went all the way down the tunnel. But, Gatwick had now turned himself right way up. He came to his senses and was quite all right, apart from losing a bit of fur from the top of his head – but that would grow back with time.
Gatwick put his finger on his chin and thought, while Little Sister kept crying.
“Look, Little Sister, it’s no good crying, you’ve got to get me out of here. Lie down on your tummy at the edge of the hole and dangle your arms down”.
Little Sister did as she was asked. She would do anything to help her big brother.
“OK, Little Sister, I’ll hold the fishing rod up for you to get. Can you reach it?”
“Yes, I’ve got it. What do I do now?”
“There’s a yellow handle on the side of a little red wheel, just keep turning that. I’m going to hook things on it and you’ll pull them up”.
Gatwick hooked his big box on wheels, tied up with red rope, onto the fishing rod, then asked Little Sister to pull it up. There, that was one.
“Now unwind it by turning the wheel the other way”.
Gatwick hooked his small blue Edwardian case, with rusty catches and an even rustier big lock, to it. Then, they did the same thing all over again with the chocolates. And, the last time round, Gatwick pushed the hook through the back of his waistcoat and was slowly hoisted up by Little Sister. She was stronger than she looked. Didn’t they do well?
Now, Gatwick thought they should sort their luggage out. So they sat, with their back against the bank’s wall, and started taking the boxes of chocolates out of the carrier bag.
“Let’s put them in your suitcase, Little Sister”.
Little Sister opened her suitcase to the tune of Knees Up Mother Brown.
“Yes, let’s put them in my suitcase”, she answered.
And that’s what they did.
Gatwick had taken two beautiful chocolates, wrapped in golden crinkled foil, out of one of the boxes as a special treat for Little Sister.
“I’m very proud of you. You saved my life”, he said tenderly giving her the chocolates.
“Thank you so much Gatwick, you know I’d do anything for you”, she munched the chocolate truffles and handed him the wrappers.
; Gatwick thought he saw a security woman. He became very frightened because she reminded him of Miss Acid:
“Quick, Little Sister, we’ve got to run as fast as our furry legs will take us. Quick! Run for your life”.
Little Sister shot up as fast as can be and started to flee while Gatwick followed dropping the wrappers on the pavement. They hid behind the corner of a building. Little Sister stuck her head round and assured Gatwick that they were now safe. The woman was marching back in the opposite direction.
“But you dropped the wrappers, Gatwick!”
“What could I do, I’m so sorry”.
“Gatwick you know very well that dropping litter is loutish behaviour. The little girl I belonged to, who was very well-behaved, used to say that those who dropped litter were not ‘civilised’. I don’t know what it means exactly. I only know that being ‘civilised’ is good, very good. And, you are not civilised now”.
She started crying because she so wanted a brother who was civilised. Gatwick felt very bad. Little Sister made him feel guilty.
She went on: “I think that being civilised means that you always do the right thing. Doing the wrong thing means that you will go to jail. Gatwick, I believe you could go to jail because you dropped litter”.
Now Gatwick was really worried. He murmured: “Little Sister, I promise you that I will never ever drop litter again, and that I will always take it with me until I see a bin. You’re right. Not everyone at Gatwick Airport is civilised, they don’t always place their litter in bins. I hope you will forgive me this time. I don’t think anyone saw me. Really, I’ll never do it again”.
