by M. C. Badger
Dr Hall looked very surprised.
Marcus was surprised too. He would never have guessed this was Mila’s big idea.
‘Not on all of our arms,’ said Mila quickly. ‘Just one arm each will do.’
‘But why do you need plaster casts?’ asked Dr Hall. ‘Have you all broken some bones?’
Mila shook her head. ‘Oh no, of course not,’ she said cheerfully. ‘We’re circus children. Circus children never break bones. We just want casts.’
‘But I can’t put on casts for no reason!’ said Dr Hall.
‘Why not?’ asked Mila.
Dr Hall had to think about this.
‘Casts are not as fun as you seem to think,’ she explained after a moment or two. ‘It’s not like wearing a glove, you know. You can’t just take them off whenever you want. Once you have one it stays on for weeks. They are ITCHY. They are hot and they get VERY STINKY. Most people can’t wait to have a cast taken off. You should be glad you don’t have to wear one!’
Marcus decided that he didn’t want a cast. It didn’t sound fun at all.
‘Come on, Mila,’ he said, standing up. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I’m sorry I can’t help you with the casts,’ said Dr Hall, staring at Mila, ‘but I can help to fix your face.’
‘What’s wrong with my face?’ said Mila.
On Dr Hall’s desk was a mirror. Dr Hall gave it to Mila.
Mila looked at herself and screamed. ‘Oh no! I’ve got some horrible DISEASE!’
Dr Hall pulled out a tissue and used it to wipe Mila’s face.
‘It looks like raspberries to me. I wish all my patients were so easy to fix.’
Mila looked crossly at Marcus.
‘Why didn’t you tell me I had raspberries on my face?’ she asked.
Marcus grinned. ‘It’s Tuesday,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I thought you always put raspberries on your face on Tuesdays.’
THE TINKLERS said goodbye to Dr Hall and left. When they got outside, the sun was still shining brightly.
‘I’m so hungry,’ grumbled Marcus, leaning against a tree.
Suddenly he remembered they still had the huge loaf of white bread the bakers had given them. Plain bread isn’t very interesting to eat, but when you’re hungry that doesn’t matter. He was about to rip off a bit when Mila suddenly snatched it out of his hands.
‘Hang on!’ she cried. ‘I know what we can do!’
Mila ripped one end off the loaf of bread. Then she made a TUNNEL through the soft dough inside. She made another hole in the other end of the loaf. Finally she slid her arm through. Her hand stuck out of the hole at the end.
‘See?’ Mila said to Marcus. She wriggled her fingers. ‘I’ve made a cast out of bread.’
She lifted her arm up and waved it around in the air. ‘It’s perfect! It isn’t ITCHY. It isn’t SMELLY. I can take it off whenever I like.’
‘And you can make a sandwich out of it if you get hungry,’ added Marcus.
‘Marcus!’ said Mila. ‘You can’t make a sandwich out of my cast!’
Now, sitting up in the tree above the Tinklers were some pigeons. They were the same pigeons who sat outside their window, waiting to be fed bits of bread. The Tinklers did this every day. But today they had forgotten to feed them so the pigeons had followed them to the doctor’s office.
When Marcus finally pulled out the huge loaf of bread the pigeons became very excited. But then, when Mila stuck her arm through the loaf of bread, the pigeons were very surprised.
‘What is she doing to our dinner?’ they asked each other.
Then one of them said ‘I know! She wants us to come and eat the bread off her arm.’
‘Of course!’ cooed the other pigeons. ‘Those Tinklers are so kind.’
In a rush they all flew down to Mila’s arm and began pecking at the bread.
‘Stop eating my cast!’ Mila yelled at the pigeons. She WAVED her arm around, trying to make the pigeons go.
But the pigeons didn’t understand.
The Tinklers were always inventing new ways of doing things. The pigeons thought that this was just a new way for the Tinklers to feed them. They kept pecking at the bread until it was all gone.
‘Coo!’ they said as they flew away. (That meant, ‘Thanks for lunch!’)
‘Now I don’t have a cast anymore!’ said Mila crossly.
‘Well, it wouldn’t have lasted very long anyway,’ Marcus pointed out. ‘The moment it started to rain it would’ve turned to mush.’
‘Probably,’ sighed Mila. ‘But it was better than nothing.’
She looked so sad that Marcus wanted to cheer her up.
‘How about we buy some bandages?’ he suggested. ‘Then we can wrap up our arms ourselves. We could bandage up our legs too if we wanted.’
Mila cheered up a little at that. ‘Bandages are not as good as plaster casts but they are OK in an emergency,’ she said. ‘And this is definitely an emergency! The weather is getting better and better. If we don’t do something quickly we’ll have to stay outside all day.’
Marcus looked around. ‘There is a chemist just over there. Let’s go and see if they have bandages.’
The Tinklers walked into the chemist together. Marcus looked around. Against the back wall he spotted exactly what they were looking for.
‘Look at all the different sorts of bandages!’ he said. ‘There are long ones and short ones and thick ones and thin ones and –’
Marcus didn’t get to finish his sentence because just then Mila SNEEZED again. And this time it was even louder than before.
WHAT WAS Mila going to do now?
Marcus waited to see.
‘Let’s forget about the bandages for now,’ Mila said. Her eyes were sparkling. ‘Let’s get some Medicine instead. After all, that is what you’re supposed to get in a chemist.’
Mila walked up to the counter. The man standing behind it smiled.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked.
‘I hope so,’ said Mila. ‘We would like some medicine that will make us sing faster and run louder.’
The chemist laughed. ‘You mean sing louder and run faster,’ he said.
‘I don’t mean that at all,’ said Mila. ‘We can already do those things. We want to be able to sing very QUICKLY Then we could sing a lot more songs every day. And we want to run much more LOUDLY because then everyone will turn and look as we go by.’
The chemist shook his head.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘We don’t have medicine that does those things.’
‘Really? How disappointing,’ said Mila. ‘What sort of medicine do you have?’
‘Just the normal sort,’ said the man. ‘We have something for stomachache and something for headache and something for toothache.’
Turtle went up to the counter too. ‘Do you have anything for shell-ache?’ she asked.
The man gave Turtle a funny look. ‘There’s no such thing as shell-ache,’ he said.
‘There is for us turtles,’ said Turtle.
‘But you’re not a turtle,’ said the man. ‘You’re a little girl.’
Turtle bared her teeth and began to GROWL. ‘I am so a turtle!’
‘Turtles don’t growl,’ said the chemist.
‘They do when their shells ache,’ said Turtle.
The man took a step backwards. He looked like he’d had enough of the Tinklers.
‘I’m sorry. I can’t help you,’ he said. Then he started tidying a shelf.
‘This man doesn’t know much about medicine,’ Mila muttered to Marcus.
‘Or turtles,’ Turtle added.
‘Well, maybe we can make our own medicine,’ suggested Marcus.
‘What a great idea!’ said Mila. ‘Let’s do it!’
Marcus had really only said it so he could get his sisters to leave the shop. But the more he thought about it, the more he could see that making medicine was a pretty good idea.
He liked inventing things. And he had never invented a medici
ne before.
But he could see a problem.
‘What should we use to make the medicine?’ Marcus asked.
‘Let’s get some things from here,’ said Mila. ‘It’s a chemist after all, so everything is medicine.’
She picked up a packet of jellybeans. ‘These look like normal jellybeans, don’t they?’ she said.
‘That’s because they are normal jellybeans,’ said Marcus.
Mila shook her head. ‘Oh no, Marcus,’ she said. ‘These are chemist jellybeans. They will be perfect for our medicine.’
She put the packet in a shopping basket. Marcus didn’t argue. If Mila was wrong, then at least they could eat the jellybeans.
The Tinklers walked around the shop, looking for things to make medicine with. Turtle picked out three tubes of toothpaste. One was bubblegum flavour and two were mint.
Mila grabbed a packet of cough lollies.
Marcus chose a blue sports drink. He looked at all the items in the shopping basket. He tried to imagine what would happen when they were mixed together.
He was pretty sure they wouldn’t make proper medicine. He had a feeling all they would make was a big, goopy mess.
But that didn’t really matter.
Making a big, goopy mess would almost be as good as making medicine!
WHEN THE Tinklers got home they went straight to the kitchen.
Mila got out their biggest mixing bowl. Marcus poured in the sports drink. Turtle dropped in the cough lollies and the jellybeans. They each SQUEEZED a tube of toothpaste into the mixture.
Then Mila got the blender.
Now, most children are not allowed to use a blender without adult help. And the ones who can use one probably can’t mix up toothpaste and sports drinks and jellybeans and cough lollies.
But the Tinklers Three could mix up whatever they liked. This is why the Tinklers often felt sorry for other children.
Marcus turned on the blender.
GRRMM! The blender was very loud as it crunched through the cough lollies. Bits of the mixture flew out the bowl and splattered on the walls.
As the mixture got thicker the blender made a different noise.
GLOOB-GLOOB.
Mila turned off the blender and the three Tinklers looked at the mixture. It was pale blue with colourful bits floating in it.
‘It looks a bit weird,’ said Marcus slowly.
‘It looks DISGUSTING!’ said Turtle.
‘I think it looks almost perfect,’ said Mila. ‘It just needs a few extra touches.’
Marcus looked around the room.
‘How about some parsley?’ he said. They had some growing in an old teapot on the windowsill.
‘Yes!’ said Mila, picking a handful and throwing it in.
‘What about lettuce?’ said Turtle.
‘Sure,’ said Mila. ‘Put some in.’
Marcus opened a cupboard. The Tinklers didn’t waste time putting tins and packets in the cuboards. It was much easier just leaving them on the floor. This meant that the cupboards were free for more interesting things, like hiding in.
But yesterday Marcus had put some things in the cupboard because the floor was full.
‘How about some flour?’ he suggested. ‘And some fish sauce?’
‘Fish sauce! Oh yes, of course!’ said Mila. ‘The best medicine always has fish sauce in it. And milk. It must have milk.’
The Tinklers whizzed the new ingredients into the mixture.
‘Making medicine is fun,’ said Mila. ‘I don’t know why we’ve never done it before.’
When the mixture was ready Mila got a glass. The mixture was very thick. It wasn’t light blue anymore. It was dark brown. Mila poured some of it into a glass. She held out the glass to Marcus.
‘You can try it first,’ she said.
Marcus took a step backwards. ‘No way!’ he said.
‘Oh come on, Marcus,’ said Mila. ‘It’s a great honour. Just think! You’re the first person to ever to try this medicine. You’ll be famous!’
Marcus didn’t think that was such a great honour. But he was also a tiny bit curious. Would the medicine work? What would it do exactly?
He took the glass and sniffed it.
‘How does it smell?’ asked Mila.
‘TERRIBLE,’ said Marcus. ‘Like old fish.’
‘That’s good,’ said Mila, nodding. ‘When medicine smells terrible it always tastes OK. It’s when it smells good that you need to be careful.’
Marcus slowly took a tiny sip of the medicine. He spat it out very quickly.
‘Pah! It’s horrible!’ he said.
‘Is it a little bit horrible or a lot horrible?’ asked Mila.
‘It’s A LOT HORRIBLE,’ said Marcus. ‘It’s the worst thing I’ve ever tasted in my whole life.’
Mila looked pleased. ‘Then it must be very, very good medicine.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Marcus. ‘I felt fine before I tried it. Now I feel sick!’
‘Well, of course you do,’ says Mila. ‘If you take medicine when you’re well it will always make you sick.’
Turtle looked at the medicine curiously.
‘What does it cure?’ she asked.
‘That is a good question,’ said Marcus. ‘We need to invent the illness next.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Mila.
‘Well, first you invent the medicine,’ explained Marcus, ‘then you invent the illness that it will fix.’
Mila laughed. ‘People don’t invent illnesses!’ she said. Then she stopped. ‘Do they?’
‘Don’t interrupt me,’ said Marcus. ‘I’m thinking of an illness. Something really good …’
‘I’VE GOT it!’ Marcus said. His cheeks were pink with excitement. ‘I know exactly what illness we need to invent!’
‘What?’ asked Mila and Turtle.
‘Sick-wellness!’ said Marcus.
‘What’s that?’ asked Turtle.
‘Sick-wellness,’ explained Marcus, ‘is when you’re sick of feeling well. It means that you’re healthy but you want to stay inside anyway.’
Mila thought about this. Then she nodded. ‘That sounds perfect,’ she said.
‘I think so too,’ agreed Turtle. ‘But how do we invent it?’
Marcus smiled. ‘That’s the best bit,’ he said. ‘I think we already have! We don’t feel like going outside, even though it is such a nice day. We feel like staying inside and reading and eating soup. That means we’re sick-well.’
Turtle looked a bit worried. ‘Will we be sick-well forever?’
Mila shook her head. ‘No. When we take some of the medicine we invented, we’ll be well-well again.’
‘But I already drank some of the medicine,’ Marcus pointed out. ‘Maybe I’m already well-well again.’
Mila thought about this. ‘You tried the medicine before we’d worked out what it was for,’ she said. ‘Do you still feel like staying inside?’
‘Yes,’ said Marcus.
Mila smiled. ‘Then you’re still sick-well.’
Being sick-well was a lot of fun. It was much, much better than being actually sick.
Marcus and Mila took it in turns to lie on the sofa with a blanket tucked up under their chin.
Turtle lay in her box.
The one who was lying down got to make groaning noises. The other two had to run around and do things for the sick-well one.
They had to fluff up pillows and change the channel on the TV.
They had to pat the sick-well one’s face with a wet cloth. Then they had to pat it with a dry cloth. They had to bring snacks and things to drink.
Each of them had a turn. Then they started again.
When it was Mila’s second turn she suddenly sat up.
‘We need soup,’ she said.
‘But we’re not really sick,’ Marcus pointed out. ‘We’re sick-well.’
‘We still need soup,’ insisted Mila. ‘If you stay inside all day you have to have soup. That’s a rule. We just need
a different kind. One of us will have to go downstairs and ask grumpy old Mrs Fitz to make us some sick-well soup.’
Mrs Fitz lived in the flat below the Tinklers. She was not really grumpy but she pretended to be because the Tinklers had asked her. They knew it was important to have a grumpy adult living nearby. Mrs Fitz always made them soup when they were sick-sick.
‘We don’t have to go downstairs,’ said Marcus. ‘We can use the phone.’
‘No, we can’t,’ said Mila. ‘We don’t have a phone anymore, remember?’
(Here’s what happened to the Tinklers’ phone: Turtle had wanted to see if it would work when it was in the fish tank. It didn’t.)
‘I don’t mean the ordinary phone,’ said Marcus. ‘I mean the pigeon phone.’
Mila looked very interested and a little surprised.
‘You made a phone out of a pigeon?’ she said. ‘Which bit do you hold to your ear? The tail or the beak?’
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ said Marcus.
‘Well, how does it work then?’ asked Mila.
‘The pigeon phone just means that we give a note to one of the pigeons on our windowsill. We tell them to fly to the window below and give the note to Mrs Fitz. We tell them we’ll give them some bread when they come back.’
‘Oh,’ said Mila. ‘I guess that might work.’
Marcus wrote a note for Mrs Fitz.
Dear Grumpy Mrs Fitz,
Could you please make us some soup?
We’re sick-well.
From, the Tinklers
He opened the window and spoke to the pigeons sitting there.
‘Will one of you please take this note down to Mrs Fitz?’ he said. ‘I’ll give you some bread when you come back.’
Now, normally Marcus’s plan would have worked perfectly. But not today. The problem was that the pigeons weren’t hungry. They had eaten a whole loaf of bread off Mila’s arm. Imagine a loaf of bread that’s big enough to cover your arm. That’s a lot of bread.
The pigeons were all too full to visit Mrs Fitz.
