Waldo snapped his notebook shut and waved it angrily at the bears. “You killed my poem!”
“We simply put it out of its misery,” said Ursie. “I thought we were meant to be cheering Frosty up. If you read any more of that, there will be tears before bedtime.”
“I bet Shakespeare didn’t have to put up with bears heckling him while he was reading his sonnets,” grumbled Waldo.
The bears didn’t have a clue that Shakespeare was the finest poet the world had ever known – and didn’t care much either.
“Shall I ignore them and carry on, luvvies?” said Waldo, trying to find his place.
“Boo! Get off!” said Orson. “Polar bears hate poetry. Frosty needs something to make him laugh.”
“Like your face?” pouted Waldo.
“Very witty,” said Orson. “Probably best if you stick to art and leave the jokes to us.”
Ursie grabbed his hat and cane. “What Frosty needs is a tune with rude sounds and actions, like ‘The Windy Song’. Hit it, Orson!”
Before anyone could stop them, the brown bears began to sing, hurling themselves about as they did the actions.
“When you’re feeling sad and low,
Sit on your bum in a pile of snow!
Wave your legs in the winter air
And break wind like a big brown bear… Join in, everybody!”
It was such a catchy song, even the uptight chinstraps couldn’t resist. If Penguin Cam was recording, everyone on the internet would be laughing out loud to see a bunch of assorted penguins flinging themselves on to their backsides and blowing off as loudly as they could. And it got better; there was another verse.
“When you’re feeling lost and sad,
When you miss your mum and dad,
Stick your tail in the air
And break wind like you just don’t care!”
When everyone had finally stopped hooting, farting and rolling about, Paulie clapped his flippers for attention.
“That was stupid; that was ridiculous; that was childish!” he bellowed. “That is exactly the kind of thing that would make a bear cub laugh – and laughter is the best medicine.”
Waldo’s beak shrivelled. “It’s not what I’d call poetry,” he said snippily.
The great emperor penguin shrugged. “So? It’s funny. I want you all to learn the words and actions and teach them to Frosty. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to see a man about a dogfish.”
Still giggling, Rory and Blue went to find Eddie and Clive.
“I can’t wait to teach them ‘The Windy Song’,” said Rory. “Eddie’s wind is seriously loud!”
“So I’ve heard,” laughed Blue. She was in a happy mood now that they had a plan to help Frosty – but would it work?
y the time the zoo had closed, all the penguins were very familiar with ‘The Windy Song’, especially Eddie, who performed it louder than anybody, just as Rory said he would. Muriel had added some extra groovy moves into her aerobic dance, Rory and crew had put together a great winter sports triathlon and the Arty Party Penguins had been practising their carving. It was time to escape over the wall and visit Frosty, but how would they lift a large block of ice over the top?
“I’m thinking of winching it up with a rope and tackle,” said Waldo.
“I haven’t got any rope,” said Warren.
“I haven’t got any tackle,” said Wesley.
Luckily, Rory came up with a good suggestion. “Why don’t you cut some ice from Frosty’s pool when you get there?”
Waldo thought about it for two seconds and clapped him heartily on the back. “You’re a marvel, darling,” he said, “I’ll fetch my tools.”
Under the cover of darkness, the troop of penguins formed another pyramid and, apart from Waldo almost decapitating Warren when he slipped with his saw, they made it over to the other side in one piece. Frosty was delighted to see them.
“You came back!” he beamed. “And you brought friends! Oooh… What shall we play?”
“Play?” said Muriel. “We haven’t come to play. You’re going to exercise to music to build up those skinny little legs for a start.”
“Will it be fun?” asked Frosty.
“Not if you do it properly,” continued Muriel, twiddling the radio knob. “You have to go through the pain barrier, otherwise it’s all a big fat waste of my time.”
Frosty’s face fell as Muriel ushered him into the line-up with Hatty and Brenda.
“Copy what I do,” she commanded. “Any fool can follow this routine, can’t you, Brenda and Hatty?”
As Muriel and the girls went into their star jumps, Frosty tried his best to keep up, but he didn’t know left from right either and, as he tried to do a high kick, he accidentally booted Brenda up in the air. She was fine, if a little embarrassed, but he looked as if he was about to cry, so Blue stepped in to help.
“Time out, Muriel,” she said, taking the cub to one side. “Don’t worry, Frosty, I’ll teach you the steps. Once you get into the rhythm, you’ll enjoy it.”
Frosty pulled a face and pointed at Muriel. “But I’m scared of that penguin!”
“Don’t be,” said Blue. “She’s a bossybeak, but she means well. Give me your paw.”
She borrowed a crayon from Waldo and drew a letter R on Frosty’s right pad and a letter L on his left, so he knew which way was which.
“Now, it’s six steps to the left, then six to the right,” she said. “Can you count to six?”
Frosty nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Mummy taught me: one, two three, five, four, seven, eleventy!”
“Nearly,” said Blue. “Just follow me.”
They had a practice and, after a while, Frosty found that he was good at dancing. He’d forgotten that he had a sore foot and was bouncing about quite happily. Even Muriel was impressed.
“You’re a lot lighter on your feet than Hatty,” she puffed as they came to the end of the routine. “Although that’s not saying much. Phew! That’s enough of that.”
To Frosty’s disappointment, she turned the music off.
“More dancing!” said Frosty. “Pleeease, Bossybeak! Dancing is my favourite.”
Muriel glared at Blue. “I wonder where he got that name from, Ber-loop?”
“The emu, I expect,” said Rory, coming to Blue’s rescue.
“What emu?” wondered Eddie. “I didn’t know there was an emu, did you, Clive?”
Clive, who was by far the cleverer of the two, decided to change the subject. “Dude,” he said to Frosty, “have you ever heard of a triathlon?”
Frosty scratched his ear and looked puzzled.
“Don’t worry, nor had I,” said Eddie. “Would you like to do three kinds of races in the snow, instead? Swimming, rock-hopping and tobogganing?”
“I love races!” said Frosty. “Best of all, I love swimming, rock-hopping and tobogganing.”
“Let’s start with swimming,” said Rory. “We’ll have a little go at everything to warm up, then we’ll do the race for real – you against me, Clive, Eddie and Blue.”
Eddie looked Blue up and down. “Blue? Blue is a girl! Girls can’t be in the boys’ team, can they, Clive?”
“Rory gave us three squid rings, remember?” said Clive. “You said it was fine.”
“It would have been a whole lot finer if he’d given us four,” sulked Eddie.
Blue took no notice and made her way over to the side of the pool with Rory. The Arty Party Penguins had already cut a big chunk of ice from the frozen centre, so there was a hole to jump into. Frosty stood up on his back legs and prepared to dive. He hadn’t been swimming since his operation – he’d wanted to, but it was no fun on his own, so he hadn’t bothered.
“OK, let’s start off with six lengths of the pool underwater,” said Rory. “Ready, steady…”
Before he could say go, Frosty had jumped in. He floundered for a moment and, although Eddie shot past, the others held back until the baby bear was ready. Then, they all took a deep breath, s
unk below the surface and swam as fast as they could, making sure not to overtake Frosty in case it upset him. His leg-kicks were a bit weak at first, but by the fifth length, his muscles remembered what to do, and by the sixth, he felt confident and strong. At the end of the race, it was a tie between him and Eddie.
“Again! Again!” whooped Frosty. “Swimming is my favourite!”
“Soon,” said Rory, hopping out of the pool. “We’re going to do rock-hopping now.”
They all made their way over to the artificial mountain range. Rockhopper penguins were particularly proud of their jumping skills and were known for their great daring, but this was a challenge even for them.
“High, Eddie,” said Clive, gazing up at the summit.
“Hi, Clive,” said Eddie.
The penguins had a fake cliff in their enclosure, but it wasn’t nearly as imposing as this one and it took a lot of nerve to leap between the rocks, which were much further apart than they were used to. The boys stood posing with Rory, full of bravado, but nobody wanted to go first.
“Your turn, Frosty!” said Eddie.
But Frosty was frozen to the spot. He hadn’t been rock-hopping since he caught his foot in that trap – could he still do it? Would he slip and fall? He wasn’t sure. Blue watched for a while and, realising he needed a bit of encouragement, she sidled over to the ledge he was standing on and jumped off without hesitating. It was a long way down for a penguin and, as she went into freefall, Rory held his breath.
“Easy!” she called as she landed neatly on the boulder below.
Frosty edged himself forward. It wasn’t a giant leap for a bear – if a fairy penguin could do it, then so could he. Blue waved up at him and he threw himself off the narrow ledge without another thought. When he landed and realised that his leg didn’t hurt, he became more and more adventurous.
After an hour-long session, Frosty didn’t want to stop. “Again! Again!” he cried. “Rock-hopping is my favourite!”
The exhausted rockhoppers collapsed in the snow.
“We still have to do tobogganing,” said Rory.
“Can’t we do it tomorrow?” gasped Clive.
“Can’t we do it yesterday?” added Eddie.
Blue grabbed hold of Rory’s flipper and pulled him up. “Frosty’s waiting.”
“Tobogganing is my favourite!” insisted Frosty.
He was so enthusiastic, the penguins picked themselves up and joined him on the icy slopes. Having watched him whooshing down on his back, his belly and his head, it was clear that this baby polar bear could teach them a trick or two. When it was time to take part in the triathlon for real, it was anybody’s guess who was going to win.
The Arty Party Penguins put down their sculpting tools and came out from behind a rock to watch.
“My money’s on the bear,” said Waldo. “He has the benefit of size. What do you think, dear?”
Wesley shrugged. “He’s big, but he’s inexperienced. I think the rockhoppers might have the edge.”
Muriel and the girls came over to join them by the edge of the pool. “That bear will beat Rory paws-down,” she said.
“It’ll be a draw,” said Warren.
Muriel laid her head on his shoulder and agreed with him instantly.
“It’ll be a draw,” she said. “Didn’t I say the tri-alathon would be a draw, Hatty?”
“N— yes!” said Hatty hastily, knowing she’d said no such thing.
“It’s tri-athlon,” said Brenda.
Muriel stroked Warren’s false moustache and snickered. “Really? Can you spell ‘boyfriend’ too, Brenda? No, because you haven’t got one.”
The race was about to start. Waldo had been given the job of announcing the countdown, but being theatrical, it took a lot longer than it should have done.
“On your marks, darlings. That’s it, all shuffle up. Are we set? Marvellous… Did I ever tell you about the time I—”
“Speak faster, Waldo, I’m about to fall in!” wailed Rory, poised on the edge to dive.
Waldo sighed. “Oh, very well… With a one and a two, and a one, two— Hang on, I’ve got an itch.”
There was a loud splash as Rory fell in.
After two false starts, Waldo eventually shouted “GO!” and the race was on.
The penguins and the polar bear paddled furiously up and down the pool to the encouragement of the audience.
“Frosty, Frosty, Frosty! We love you most-y!” sang Brenda and Hatty, dancing about like cheerleaders.
“Faster, you rockhopper chaps!” called Waldo. “Get a wiggle on, Miss Blue!”
It was neck and neck, but, just as it looked as if Rory was going to pip him to the post, Frosty reached out and touched the side with his paw.
“I won!” he laughed. “Woo hoo! Winning is my favourite!”
Whether Rory let him win or not nobody ever knew, but having got the gold for the swimming event, to his great happiness, Frosty went from strength to strength and won the rock-hopping and the tobogganing.
“This is the happiest day of my life!” he said joyfully.
“Hooray for Frosty!” shouted the penguins, pleased that they’d done such a good job of cheering him up. But suddenly, his face crumpled. Tears began to squirt from his big brown eyes.
Blue ran to comfort him. “What’s wrong, Frosty? Is it your foot? Does it hurt?”
“Noooooo,” he howled. “I wanted Mummy to see me win!”
“Quick, Waldo,” said Rory, “fetch the ice sculpture while we sing him ‘The Windy Song’!”
The penguins clustered together in order of height and began:
“When you’re feeling sad and low,
Sit on your bum in a pile of snow…”
Frosty’s ears pricked up. He peeked through his paws and, as the penguins fell back, waved their legs in the air and did the windy bit, he started to smile.
“Join in!” said Eddie.
Frosty did – and to Eddie’s admiration, he was even windier than Eddie. In fact, he was so loud, he started a small avalanche, which made him laugh all the more.
“Your mother would be so proud,” said Waldo, revealing the sculpture of the polar bear.
Frosty gasped. “Oh! It’s…”
“Yeah, what is it?” muttered Muriel.
Warren looked rather hurt. “Can’t you tell?” he said.
“Of course I can,” said Muriel hastily. “It’s a… masterpiece. Clever you!”
It was true to say that most of the pieces the Arty Party Penguins produced weren’t instantly recognisable, but either Frosty knew a lot about modern art or it was wishful thinking.
“It looks a bit like… Mummy!” he cried, flinging his arms round it. “I’ll soon be fit and strong; I’ll soon be home, won’t I?”
“You will if we have anything to do with it,” said Blue. “Sweet dreams, Frosty. Bedtime now.”
“Melts your heart, doesn’t it,” sniffed Waldo as the little cub cuddled up to the ice bear.
The penguins waited until Frosty fell asleep, then tiptoed back to their hutches to get some rest. If they were going to get him in peak condition, they’d have to keep up his training.
There were going to be a lot of late nights.
very night for a fortnight, the penguins visited Frosty. By now, he had learnt three aerobic dance routines from Muriel and the fairy penguins and, to Hatty’s delight, she was so fit, she’d changed shape.
“What’s that round your middle? I’ve never seen it before,” said Muriel.
“It’s my waist,” said Hatty.
All the dancing had certainly helped Frosty get back into shape. As well as toning him up, it had given him an enormous appetite and he’d put on weight, which was a good thing – he’d been far too thin for a polar bear. Waldo got his tape measure out and, with Wesley holding the other end, they measured his vital statistics.
“My, you’ve grown!” said Waldo. “You were only this round and this high when we first met and now look at you! It just
shows what good food and plenty of exercise can achieve.”
“Those things were good for me,” said Frosty, “but ‘The Windy Song’ helped most. I wasn’t hungry before because I was sad, but now I’m happy, I eat all my dinner. Soon I’ll grow into a big bear like Mummy!”
“How big do polar bears grow in the wild?” asked Blue.
Frosty sucked his paw and thought hard – he wasn’t very good at measurements.
“I was only as big as a rat when I was born,” he said, “but I’m going to get this high!”
He held his arms above his head to demonstrate, but, being a baby, they were too short.
“A million, billion times taller than that,” he said.
“Whoa!” said Eddie. “That’s even taller than Paulie, isn’t it, Clive?”
Brenda went over to the notice on Frosty’s enclosure to find out how tall polar bears really grew.
“They can reach over three metres,” she exclaimed, “and weigh more than six hundred kilograms!”
Muriel did a quick sum on her flippers and gasped. “Six hundred? That’s more than three hundred Hattys!”
“Four hundred,” insisted Hatty. “I’ve dropped a dress size.”
Frosty wasn’t just taller and heavier, he was stronger too and Rory was finding it hard to keep up with him. The cub was swimming a hundred lengths of the pool at night and another hundred in the day when the penguins had gone back home.
“That’s nothing,” said Frosty. “Mummy swims much further than that. Polar bears can swim a hundred and sixty kilometres without stopping.”
“Whoa,” said Eddie, “that’s further than all the way round the zoo!”
“I think a certain cub may be exaggerating slightly, Edward,” said Waldo out of the side of his beak.
“No, he isn’t,” said Brenda. “It says over a hundred and sixty on the sign.”
The triathlon training had worked. Frosty could leap from rock to rock with remarkable ease now, and Rory, Blue and the boys had to keep coming up with harder and harder stunts to keep him on his toes. By midnight on Friday, they were shattered.
“Let’s have a rest, Frosty,” said Rory. “You’ve done enough for one night.”
Penguin Pandemonium Page 5
