Norman Snodgrass Saves the Green Planet

by Sue Bough

  Despite the awfulness of the joke, Norman found himself laughing. “I’m ready, Professor,” he said, “and I won’t need a Scudder this time, Ern.”

  “Of course you won’t,” Professor Zube agreed. “There’s no danger. The Drones are back on their Planet for now. It’s just a question of fixing the pipe, flicking the switch and then back home for a nice cup of tea. Mind you, you’ll have to walk back through the old tunnels as the Zube will be out of action after the blast. I’ve got the TWITs and SPANNERS on standby for the clean-up operation but it’ll take a while.”

  Norman allowed himself a moment to imagine his favourite tea back home, which his mother had promised him. He could almost taste the Green Bug butter sandwiches. “Let’s do it,” he said, flicking the brass switch into the air with uncharacteristic bravado and astonishing his audience by catching it in the same hand.

  *

  Norman’s confidence was short-lived. As he pulled the giant pipe out of the Zube Tube on the Dark Side, the solid blackness engulfed him once more. He’d forgotten how lonely it was there, and his toes ached with the memory of his last visit.

  “Snap out of it, Norm,” he told himself, “you’ve got a job to do.”

  The pipe was not as easy to manoeuvre on the rough surface of the Planet and it took several moments of pushing to get it into place. Eventually, though, it co-operated, and Norm forced himself to look up at the Dark Planet, visible only as a denser shade of blackness above him. He shuddered and thought of its gruesome occupants as he aimed the tube towards them.

  Ooh, my toes are really aching now, he thought. This toe-ring must be super sensitive if it picks them up from that far away. He wriggled them to ease the cramping. The sooner I throw the switch the better.

  He felt his way back to the Zube Tube entrance by following the pipe, and began taping the end. Despite his urge to hurry, he made himself work slowly and carefully. By the time he had finished, there was a secure ‘waste-tight’ seal with the Zube Tube and only a few centimetres of tape remained on the reel.

  Dad would be proud, he thought. Now to fix the switch.

  Norman retrieved the small brass knob from the bag hanging on his belt. He began unscrewing the ‘Wasteland’ button on the control panel as instructed but, whether through nerves or haste, it was no easy task. The small button was fiddly and kept sticking on its thread. Norman had to stretch to reach it, which made the cramp in his toes worse, and by the time he’d worked it loose he was quite cross. He quickly screwed the brass reverse switch into place and gave it an angry wrench to tighten it.

  Plink.

  The tiny metal knob snapped off in his hand and dropped to the floor. Norman went cold with shock. He grabbed the walkie-talkie from its loop on his belt.

  “Professor… Professor… can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear, Norman, how’s it going? Are you ready to throw the switch?”

  “No… I’ve broken it. I’m so sorry… What shall I do?”

  “Oh dear… Well, don’t worry. Give me a second and I’ll think of something…”

  “Please hurry; it’s so dark here and my toes are really hurting again.”

  “Don’t panic, Norman, you’re quite safe; the Landing Party has gone, remember?”

  “Are you sure, Professor? I feel really weird.”

  “Absolutely. I saw all four Drones beam back up.”

  “But Professor…”

  “What is it, Norman?”

  “There were five…”

  As Norman held the walkie-talkie up to his face, he saw two red eyes reflected on its plastic screen. There was no need to look behind – he simply ran for his life. Stumbling through the blackness, he knew the Drone was following, but there was nowhere to hide. What was he to do?

  Stupidly, he found himself thinking with annoyance that he would miss his favourite tea. His mother would be preparing it for him now… She hated food going to waste. Norman felt a lump rise in his throat at the thought of her. He ran with all his might.

  “But Professor…

  there were five…”

  Suddenly, his foot jerked to the right. Still running, Norman looked down – the toe-ring was glowing again and… yes, it was trying to pull his foot! Without questioning, he obeyed its command and changed direction. He had no idea where he was or how far he’d travelled – he could be going round in circles for all he knew – but something told him to follow the ring and it would lead him to safety.

  CRASH!

  Norman flew through the air and landed with a bump on something cold and flat that had tripped him up. Winded for a moment, he lay dazed on the ground and felt the object. It was his mirror! He must have dropped it there when the Landing Party had chased him.

  Quickly, Norman scrambled to his feet and hauled it upright. He heard a noise to his left and spun round just in time to thrust the mirror between him and the full horror of the Drone. Its beak almost touched the glass. Its two red eyes narrowed, and it sniffed. It was so close, Norman could feel its breath on his hands and smell its awful rotting skin.

  The Drone considered its dim reflection… It had never seen itself before. It twisted its hooded head from side to side. It was puzzled. From the corner of his eye, Norman saw its tail flick round the side of the mirror. The tail stopped still, almost as if it had seen him and was pondering what to do. Then it reared up…

  Without thinking, Norman pushed his full weight against the mirror, throwing the startled Drone backwards. Thinking it had been attacked by its own reflection, it let out a howl of surprise. As it struggled to its feet, surprise turned to rage as it saw the Poggle in front of it. Norman waited for its awful tail to strike again; but before the Drone could retaliate, a beam of light hit it squarely in the face. The Drone recoiled in terror, shielding its eyes with its claws, then with a shriek of frustration the hideous creature fled into the darkness.

  Norman turned to see where the light had come from. Two dark figures were approaching and one seemed to have a bright eye in the centre of its head. Seconds later, Norman collapsed with relief into the arms of his father and Ernie.

  “Blimey, Norm! Was that a…?”

  Norman nodded weakly. His father lifted him to his feet.

  “We thought you might like some company for the walk home,” he said. “The Professor lent me his miner’s headlamp to guide us. I didn’t think I’d be scaring off a Drone with it! Are you alright? What was he up to?”

  “There’s no time to explain. I haven’t thrown the switch yet – it broke off in my hand and… Oh Dad, what if that Drone’s gone to raise the alarm? It will all be over…”

  Norman’s father frowned.

  “The show’s not over till the fat Poggle hoots,” he said, striding off to the Zube Tube entrance, which to Norman’s amazement was only a few feet away.

  “Hmm… you did a good job of the seal, Norm, couldn’t have done better myself. Unfortunately, you also did a good job of snapping the switch. Sheared it right off at the base.” He chuntered away to himself as he unclipped a small tool-bag from his utility belt.

  “Good thing I brought my fine-nosed pliers and some old wire.” He set to repairing the switch.

  “Er… Mr Snodgrass?” Ernie sounded anxious.

  “Hang on a minute, Ernie, I need to concentrate.”

  “But Mr Snodgrass… something’s happening in the sky.”

  Arthur Snodgrass paused, still gripping a piece of wire between his teeth.

  “Great heavens!” he said.

  Norman had been right. The fleeing Drone had indeed raised the alarm and the Dark Planet was once more bathed in ultraviolet light. The whole surface of it appeared to be moving as rank upon rank of Drones marched slowly in one purposeful direction.

  “The UV ray!” blurted Ernie. “Is that it?”

  Norman nodded.

  �
��Any minute now, they’ll travel down it.”

  “Not if we’ve got anything to do with it…” His Father gritted his teeth and continued furiously twisting wire to create a makeshift switch.

  Above them, a shaft of ultraviolet light began to form and stretch towards them as the UV ray throbbed into life once more.

  “Mr Snodgrass – they’re coming!” Ernie needlessly pointed to a throng of hooded shapes descending slowly down the beam.

  Arthur Snodgrass gave a final twist of his pliers then spoke to his son. “Now, Norman! Throw the switch!”

  Norman didn’t need telling twice.

  KAA-

  BOOOM!

  The entire contents of the Waste Dome spewed into the air with the force of a hundred meteorites.

  Like a giant marble in a playground, the stinking mass hit the Dark Planet and sent it spinning away into the Universe. Those Drones which had begun beaming down found themselves whirling aimlessly in space instead, their furious cries doomed to go unheard forever.

  On the Dark Side of the Green Planet, three Poggles picked themselves up from the ground where they’d been thrown by the force of the blast.

  “Who fancies a nice cup of tea?” said Arthur Snodgrass, dusting himself down.

  Without waiting for a reply, he adjusted the lamp on his head, put an arm round Norman and Ernie and guided them towards the tunnel that would take them home.

  “Kaa-booom!”

  Boy Meets Girl

  The shock of his ordeal caught up with Norman as they trudged back home. His knees wobbled and a puff of wind would have toppled him.

  He was grateful to have his father and best friend to lean on but, as they finally reached home, something far more tangible knocked him over. The front door burst open and an orange blur flew down the path and threw itself at him.

  “Spong!” Norman cried in delight, trying to fend off the frenzy of licks and squeaks whilst flat on his back. “Ernie, he’s OK!”

  “Yep, I can see that!” Ernie laughed, retrieving the now yellow ball from Norman’s face and giving it an affectionate ruffle.

  Norm regained his feet only to be winded again, this time by his mother, whose hug, if it were possible, was tighter than ever.

  “Everyone’s here and tea’s ready, so hurry up and wash your hands,” she said, just as if he’d come home from a normal day at school. Only the slightest quaver in her voice betrayed her relief.

  His mother was right – everyone was indeed there. Alerted by Ernie on the walkie-talkie, Professor Zube had hurried to give Mrs Snodgrass the news that all were safe and well. She in turn had rallied the Sludgebuckets, and the whole ensemble was once more crammed into the living pod.

  The dining table groaned under a sumptuous buffet tea that would have done the Master Poggle himself proud. There were three types of Boulder Buns, Fairy Cakes sprinkled with space dust, piles of Green Bug butter sandwiches, a jug of Beetle Juice and, of course, a large pot of tea in the silver starred pot.

  A colossal cheer erupted as Norman entered the room, and he found himself being slapped on the back, hugged and squeezed from all angles. Mouths were opening and closing all around but Norman couldn’t make out any words in the bedlam.

  “Give him some room! Give him some room!” his mother intervened, recognising that he was completely dazed. She steered him to an armchair and thrust a cup of hot sweet tea into his hand. “Drink this,” she ordered. “You two as well…” She poured two more cups, for Ernie and his father.

  As he drank the warming brew, Norman felt his strength return. Spong jumped onto his lap, made a few circuits to find the comfiest place and curled up into a contented ball.

  “When did he recover?” Norm asked, rubbing Spong’s favourite sweet spot behind his ear.

  “About half an hour after you left this morning,” his mother replied. “The second batch of antidote did the trick. He’s been up and down the hallway waiting for you since then – that is, when he’s not been squeaking at something under your bed. I don’t know what you’ve got in there but he’s certainly fascinated by it.”

  “Let’s hope it’s not a Scudder!” chuckled Ernie.

  “Don’t even joke about it!” Norm looked nervously around.

  “Are you telling me you’ll happily fight off a Drone but you’re still afraid of Scudders?” his father asked incredulously.

  “Fight off a Drone?! What was he doing fighting off a Drone?” Isadora Snodgrass was horrified.

  “Er… well,” Arthur Snodgrass faltered, realising he’d put his three-toed foot in it.

  “I’m afraid it’s all my fault, Isadora.” Professor Zube looked mortified as he explained his error in counting the Landing Party. “I would never have sent Norman to the Dark Side if I’d known… I was certain they’d all returned.”

  “All’s well that ends well, Professor. And anyway, that Drone was no match for our Norm,” said Arthur.

  The Professor smiled gratefully. “Are you ready to tell us what happened?” he asked gently.

  Norman took another mouthful of tea, gazed around at the expectant faces in the room and nodded.

  For several minutes all was still, as Norman relayed what had taken place on the Dark Side. Everyone held their breath when he reached the moment that he realised the Drone was behind him. They gasped as he described how his toe-ring had directed his feet. Norman himself felt detached, as if he were floating above his own body watching someone else tell the story. Had all this really happened to him?

  Ernie and his father picked up the tale from the point where they’d emerged from the tunnel into the pitch black.

  “We had no idea where you were but then we heard this crash,” Ernie began.

  “Yes, that must have been when you pushed the Drone over with your mirror,” his father continued. “I looked over to where the noise was coming from and got the shock of my life to see the darned thing there!”

  “Not as big as the shock those Drones got when you blasted them, eh Norm! KAAA-BOOOOOOMMMM!!!!” Ernie rolled on the floor, re-enacting Drones whirling into space, causing Spong to jump down and run around him in circles.

  Mrs Snodgrass held up her hands. “I think we’ve all had quite enough excitement for one day. Tea won’t eat itself, and I’ve no doubt you’re all hungry. Help yourselves!”

  Norman suddenly realised he was famished. He reached for the plate of his favourite Green Bug butter sandwiches but before he could tuck in, something in the hallway caught his eye.

  Zohar, Master Poggle, stepped into the room. Everyone froze, mouths mid-chew, teacups aloft and eyes astonished, unable to comprehend the great presence in the room.

  “Forgive me interrupting like this, Poggles – I did knock but there was no reply and the door was open…”

  Still no one spoke. Thankfully, Professor Zube stepped in to make the introductions. “Good to see you, Zohar! I wasn’t sure if you’d got my message.” The Professor shook his hand and led him into the room.

  “This is Arthur Snodgrass… his wife Isadora… Norman you know, of course… his good friend Ernie Sludgebucket… and Ernie’s parents Bill and Freda.”

  One by one Zohar shook hands with everyone, politely ignoring the confusion and juggling of buns and sandwiches as Poggles tried to bow or curtsey with hands and mouths full. One creature in the room had no intention of standing on ceremony however, and an excited yellow ball launched itself into Zohar’s arms.

  “Spong!” cried Norman with embarrassment. “Get down! I’m so sorry, sir – he’s very friendly. He doesn’t know who he’s jumping at.”

  “On the contrary,” Zohar laughed as Spong started licking his face, “he knows very well, don’t you, Spong? Good to see you’re fully recovered. Yes, yes, I’m pleased to see you too, but down you get. Be good for your Master.” He gently lowered Spong to the floor and patted him as he
sat obediently by his feet.

  “His Master?” Ernie blurted out, forgetting himself. “You mean Spong belongs to you, sir?”

  “He does indeed, young Ernie. Spong has been my faithful companion for a very long time.”

  “Then why did Miss Lastic say he was the new school pet, sir…? And why did she choose me to look after him?” Norman had always thought that was strange.

  “I’m afraid you’ve been rather set up, Norman.” Professor Zube smiled. “As you know, Zohar has been concerned about the future for many years. He knew there were troubled times ahead. He also knew that a certain Long-Toed Poggle was born eight years ago who might play a part in saving the entire Planet. It was only sensible to loan Spong to you to protect you.”

  “And all the while you thought you were looking after him!” Ernie shook his head in disbelief.

  Norman was quiet. He knew he should be thanking the Master for his generous kindness but the word ‘loan’ weighed heavily on his heart. It was slowly dawning on him that he would have to part with Spong – and maybe very soon.

  “Oh, Master! How can we ever thank you for your consideration?” Norman’s mother remembered her manners despite her shock. “If I’d known you were coming I would have baked a cake!” She looked pointedly at Professor Zube.

  “It is I who am indebted to you, dear lady.” Zohar bowed graciously towards her. “We have asked an awful lot of your son and he has shown incredible bravery.” Turning to Norman, he continued, “I do have one further request of you however…”

  Norman nodded, amazed to receive such attention from one so great.

  “You have taken such good care of Spong, and he has grown very attached to you since he has been here. Sadly, I find myself slowing up and less able to take him on the long walks he needs. I wonder if you would consider continuing to look after him for me… if your parents wouldn’t mind?”

  “Would I?!” Norman picked Spong up and hugged him, receiving fresh licks in return.

  “Thank you, Norman. I do hope you and Ernie will walk him over to visit me every so often?”