The Peppers and the Island of Invention

by Sian Pattenden

At last, as they made it across the water, Esmé gradually directed the helicopter downward (although it went upward at first) towards Crab Pie Island, without dipping the nose of the vehicle too much.

  “You’re doing well, Esmé,” said Maureen. “Now, pull the collective control back – ease gently to descend…”

  Carefully, Esmé did so and a moment later the helicopter thumped awkwardly on the ground, skidded forward a few metres, then came to rest.

  “I don’t quite believe it,” said Maureen, loosening her collar. “Esmé, you’ve just successfully flown a helicopter!”

  “Well done,” said Monty, patting his sister enthusiastically on the back.

  “Is Clive OK?” asked Deidre, looking at the slumped pilot.

  Clive murmured and blinked. Or maybe he blinked and murmured. “Where am I? What happened?” he said, woozy.

  “You fainted at the sight of Bernard’s baby rabbits,” Maureen Houdini sighed loudly as everyone piled out of the helicopter. “In other words, never fly a helicopter again, Clive.”

  “Come on,” said Monty, now standing in front of Mr Portobello’s metal fence and beckoning the others to follow. “We have very little time, we must get Potty.”

  The good news was that Esmé had saved everyone from a cruel and untimely death.

  The not-so-good news was that Mr Portobello had seen the whole thing from his living room window giving him plenty of time to run downstairs and deploy his security system.

  Mr Portobello had asked Keith Chalk several weeks ago to ‘step up’ the security at the house and had told him to fit more locks on the door and a high fence round the whole house that would add maximum protection.

  While Mr Portobello knew that Esmé and Monty would not have forgotten about Potty entirely, he had not predicted that there would be a helicopter and a team of international magicians arriving any moment. Mr Portobello secured all the windows, bolted the front door, then went into the kitchen to make a nice cup of tea.

  The magicians, Esmé and Monty stood in a line, contemplating the high wall in front of them.

  “Oh, heavens,” said Deidre. “This is a fortress, not a house.”

  Maureen Houdini walked up to the fence to check how sturdy it was.

  “Stupeedo,” she turned and called. “This is a job for you. If you could fly over the fence, then perhaps find us a way in from the inside…?”

  “Great!” said Stupeedo with much excitement. “I’ve been waiting for this bit. I’ve got my special trainers on.”

  “And what is so special about them?” asked Maureen.

  “Aha! It’s all down to the Lithuanian touch paper on the heel,” said Stupeedo. “I will take off with such force that I will fly like an eagle through the air, forming a perfect fifty degree arc, then I shall make my descent swiftly and – with the g-force reaching perhaps mach 3 or even double-mach 95.2 – glide straight over the fence.”

  “Ooh,” gasped Monty.

  “Ready, and…” said Stupeedo as he ransacked a trouser pocket in order to find his matches, and lit the heels of his shoes. In a flash he was in mid-air, a human bullet with his palms pressed together.

  “Go, Stupeedo!” yelled Deidre.

  “You can do it!” added Monty.

  For one glorious moment the Great Stupeedo soared through the air like a bird, mighty and true, until he went splat – straight into the fence.

  “Oh,” he muttered as he realised he hadn’t quite completed the journey. “Well, I made a hole at least.”

  Esmé and Monty ran up to the fence to see if Stupeedo was all right.

  Esmé looked closely at the dent he had made. “This fence isn’t metal, it’s plastic,” she said, then she noticed Stupeedo’s shoes. “Your heels are still alight, by the way.”

  “That’s it!” Stupeedo had had a brainwave. “Plastic! It’s perfect.”

  Stupeedo took off his left shoe and started to melt the plastic around the hole in the fence, which quickly got bigger, the edges curling in on themselves like a strange synthetic flower. Soon the gap in the fence was big enough for the visitors to squeeze through.

  The magicians and the Pepper twins emerged the other side, victorious.

  “We’re in!” said Deidre.

  Mr Portobello watched from the kitchen window. “Damn those magicians,” he said. “If they can make it through my fence, they’re bound to make it into the house eventually. Well, no matter. Time for Plan C…” And Mr Portobello chuckled – a deep, dark chuckle. “This house looks as if it has been built upside down,” said Stupeedo, walking up to the building. He tried the front door. “It’s no use. It’s locked.”

  “Shhh!” whispered Maureen. “Mr Portobello mustn’t know we’re here. Using my legendary escapologist skills, I’ll prise open a window and open the front door from the other side…”

  “Maybe I could go round the back and see if there’s another way in before Mr Portobello realises we’re here?” suggested Esmé.

  “Too late,” came a voice.

  The magicians and the Pepper twins turned to see the figure of Mr Portobello, a towelling bathrobe covering his ill-fitting suit, at the front door. “What are you doing here at this time of night? You’ve just woken me up. I’ll call the police.”

  “I don’t think you will,” Esmé replied. “Now, where’s Potty?”

  “I told you, he went back on the boat just after you. Why don’t you come in and have a look if you don’t believe me?” said Mr Portobello, yawning. “You won’t find anything.”

  The magicians exchanged glances. Esmé and Monty led the way, stepping with trepidation and a small amount of befuddlement into Mr Portobello’s home.

  “Do come in, and shut the door behind you.”

  As they entered, they could hear light classical music coming from the radio in the kitchen.

  “You can search the house from top to bottom,” shouted Mr Portobello over the noise. “Why not start in the corridor and work your way up?” he suggested. “You won’t find anyone.”

  The magicians filed into the corridor, only to find the Giant Penny Fall blocking their way.

  “Can you move this obstacle, please?” Stupeedo asked Mr Portobello.

  “We want to look upstairs,” said Maureen.

  “Um…” replied Mr Portobello. “Just a sec…” he mumbled, fiddling with a switch on the back of the machine. “Just, er, tying my shoelace.”

  “But you aren’t wearing any shoes…” said Esmé. “You’ve got slippers on.”

  “Look here, Mr…” said Stupeedo, taking one step forward.

  With a loud spinning sound the Giant Penny Fall rattled into action, simultaneously lighting up and moving forward, millimetre by millimetre. The magicians and the Peppers twins were forced back so that they were all eventually pressed up against the front door. Maureen Houdini began to try and pick the lock, but Esmé could see it was stuck. Team Potty was trapped.

  The pennies contained within the glass cabinet shone bright as stars while sharp metallic levers pushed them onward and outward, but never to fall. With a smooth shrank noise an oversize pincer lifted high over the cabinet and dropped the teddy bear over Maureen, who managed to catch it.

  “Mr Portobello!” shouted Maureen crossly, clutching the nylon bear. “Stop this machine at once.”

  Mr Portobello simply smiled and said nothing as the machine continued to move towards the visitors. The pincer began to snap at the group, then hovered over Monty in particular and snapped some more. Music still drifted in from the kitchen – a cloying violin solo.

  “Argh!” cried Monty, trying to back away but finding that he was already against the wall. “Get it away from me.”

  Maureen threw the teddy bear over the machine at Mr Portobello but she missed – and anyway, it was little use as a weapon.

  Snap, snap! went the pincer.

  “Just tell us where Potty is!” yelled Esmé.

  Mr Portobello pressed another button on the Giant Penny Fall and the pin
cer opened its jaws wide, moving in to ensnare the Pepper twins and the magicians in its evil grip.

  Deidre struggled to get free – Clive and Stupeedo too – but the pincer’s grip got tighter with every move they made. Monty and Esmé tried to break free by wriggling but the pincer would not give way.

  Maureen, however, was in her element. As daughter of the famous Barry Houdini she knew that now was not the time to disappoint her father’s legacy and duly started to fish in her front pockets for her pliers in order to attack the pincer. She would not be foiled by a simple arcade machine. She had escaped from perilous circumstances ten times worse: under the ocean, next to a bag of snakes, on top of a moving bus…

  However, as soon as Maureen had wiggled the pliers from her left to right hand, Mr Portobello snatched them.

  “You don’t get out of here that easily,” he told her, laughing as he walked away, and leaving Esmé, Monty and the International Magic Guys in a bit of a pickle – a rather large pickle. In fact, maybe the biggest pickle that any of them had been in for a long, long while.

  An excerpt from

  Dr Pompkins – Totality Magic

  TRICK: How to Force a Card

  During a trick, you may sometimes need to make someone choose the card you want them to, without them realising it. This is called ‘forcing a card’. One way to do it is like so:

  Place the card you want chosen on top of the pack, ask someone to cut the pack and place the lower half (A) at right angles across the upper half (B) in order to mark the cut.

  Now you must chat for a few moments – wildly and as full-throatily as possible – so that your audience member forgets which half is which. Maybe talk about oranges or the state of the Euro.

  Then ask your pal to lift off the top pack (A) and look at the top card of the lower pack (B).

  As this was the original top card of the pack you have done it, mon brave.

  Ego

  To be a magician you must be confident, smart and well-rehearsed. However, you must not be too full of yourself. A big ego is easy to spot and hard to like. A big ego is never something to cultivate. The world of magic is a wonderful place but it is about sharing magic, not just performing it and savouring the applause. The art of magic relies on the wonders of perception, expectation and belief. There is no room for superiority. You must humble yourself at all times. “The good magician travels third class,” as the great Ali Bongo once said.

  In all totality,

  Dr Pompkins

  “Should we read the tea leaves?” Tabitha asked her sister as they waited impatiently for news.

  “No, if there’s something I need to know, I’ll hear it on the wind…” said Twinkle. “If I listen carefully, the spirits will definitely whisper something.”

  Tabitha waited as Twinkle wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes. “Anything?” she asked Twinkle.

  “All I can hear is light classical music.”

  “And no key words or visions?”

  “Not this time,” replied Twinkle. “What do you think that means?”

  “I’m hoping it’s a good sign.”

  The Table sisters had armed themselves with woolly blankets to keep out the cold and were both spying on the moonlit Crab Pie Island through binoculars from the roof of the Sea Spray Theatre. Tabitha and Twinkle had seen the helicopter land and the magicians enter, but after half an hour had gone by there was no more activity. Tabitha and Twinkle feared the worst – and of course the worst was true – that Mr Portobello had kidnapped them all.

  “What do we do now?” Tabitha asked Twinkle.

  “I just don’t know,” sighed Twinkle. “This rescue operation is not really going to plan, is it?”

  A yawning Keith joined them on the roof.

  “Seen anything?” he asked Twinkle. “It’s getting late.”

  “Not a peep. What if they never return?” said Twinkle with tears in her eyes.

  “Right, I’ve had enough,” Keith said suddenly. “If anyone’s got to help, it’s Keith Chalk. I know Mr Portobello, I know the house. I’m going to rescue the Peppers, Potty and the International Magic Guys – and, you know, I think I’ve got the right gadget to do it!”

  Keith ran back downstairs into the theatre, then reappeared on the roof again a few minutes later holding a high-visibility vest.

  “Ta-da!” he said, displaying the type of garment that someone mending a road surface would wear.

  “Are you going cycling?” asked Tabitha.

  “We certainly won’t lose you in that,” said Twinkle. “But I don’t quite see…”

  “It’s a turbo jet pack. There are rocket boosters sewn in the back and it has padded shoulders, in case of any accidents. It’s visible in cloud, fog, snow and rain. It’s waterproof, fireproof, child-friendly and ecological.”

  Tabitha and Twinkle were visibly impressed. High-visibility impressed.

  “How remarkable!” said Tabitha. “It’s the vest that does everything. The fabric is so reflective, the boosters look so powerful…”

  “What does this breast pocket hold?” asked Twinkle.

  “It contains satellite navigation, a smartphone that links on to the battery pack, three different flavours of high-energy nutty bars, a Swiss army knife and a torch,” Keith explained.

  “And now I will launch myself from this roof and rescue our friends from the clutches of Mr Portobello,” he continued, moving to the edge. “Wish me luck!” He beamed with anticipation. “I’ve just got to find the right button…

  “One, two, three…” The jacket gave a fizzling sound then suddenly Keith was launched into the sky, like an even higher-visibility-than-usual firework.

  “Ooooooh…” remarked Tabitha.

  “Aaaaah…” said Twinkle.

  “He looks just like Superman,” cooed Tabitha.

  Keith Chalk shot through the amber heavens with grace and style. It was his first full flight in the jacket, as he’d just been working on blueprints and computer simulations until now.

  Brrrring brrrring!

  It was at this moment Keith heard a ringing coming from his breast pocket. His smartphone! He had forgotten to turn it off.

  Brrrring brrrring! it continued to ring from his pocket. Who was calling at such a late hour?

  The problem was, Keith thought as he sailed through the chilly air at forty miles per hour, the phone was linked to – and now draining the – energy supply. Keith had only accounted for energy use in flight mode – without considering the additional use of superfluous gadgets. Unfortunately, therefore, Keith fell from the skies at an alarming rate and dipped quickly and coolly into the ocean.

  “Bother,” he cursed, as he thrashed about in the water.

  On the theatre roof the Table sisters had wasted no time in picking up their trusty binoculars and watching Keith’s heroic journey through the sky. They looked on as he crashed into now the red sea, reflecting the sunset on the horizon.

  “Oh, deary me,” gasped Twinkle.

  “Oh, deary, deary me,” said Tabitha. “Another one down.”

  While his visitors were still trapped in the grips of a giant pincer, Mr Portobello had had an idea. He went upstairs to the living room to ring Keith on his mobile, wondering if he could find out whether the Giant Penny Fall did anything else – other than grip things in its nasty metal claws. Keith’s phone rang and rang but there was no reply. Mr Portobello didn’t know what to do next, so he turned on the television and settled down for a quiet evening in front of the (large) telly to watch a favourite show of his, Badger Festival.

  Back downstairs, the magicians were getting restless.

  “Do you think we’ll get out alive?” whispered a nervous Stupeedo.

  “Of course we will, we’re magicians. It’s our job,” replied Maureen, trying to sound assured.

  “I hope Bernard and her babies are OK,” wondered Deidre aloud. “I have an awful feeling that I left the helicopter door open…”

  “What’s the worst that can h
appen?” asked Stupeedo. “They’ll do a bit of snuffling, eat some grass, look cute.”

  “I suppose so,” answered Deidre.

  “It’s not the rabbits that we need to worry about,” said Maureen. “It’s how on earth we’re going to get out of here… The front door is definitely jammed.”

  Outside the house, Bernard and her babies had escaped the helicopter and were indeed snuffling. They must have smelt from afar the chewed stubs of Mr Portobello’s Chantenay carrots outside the kitchen window as, having crawled through the hole in the fence, that is where they were headed. Unfortunately for Mr Portobello, the carrot detritus had been thrown next to some electric cables, part of the primitive energy supply that served the island home. The rabbits found the carrots and started munching. And with one light crunch, Bernard accidentally chewed through the main electricity supply between the generator and the house. Bernard felt a tingle of warm electricity run through her furry body, but apart from that she was unscathed.

  Woophmm!

  “Hey! Who turned out all the lights?” murmured Stupeedo. Then: “Maureen, stop wiggling.”

  “The Giant Penny Fall has just turned itself off!” whispered Maureen Houdini. “The pincer has loosened its grip! We’re free!”

  The magicians and the Pepper twins eagerly disentangled themselves from the giant pincer and Stupeedo gave everyone a high five.

  “Right, you two,” whispered Maureen to the twins. “Let’s creep upstairs and find out where Mr Portobello’s put Potty.”

  Esmé and Monty both nodded silently.

  “If Mr Portobello hears anything,” Maureen continued, “then at least someone can distract him while the other two run upstairs to warn us. Deidre, Stupeedo, Clive – you stand guard here at the foot of the stairs.”

  Esmé, Monty and Maureen crept upstairs most carefully and most silently. They passed Mr Portobello who was far too busy meddling with leads – trying to work out why there was no power – to notice them.