You could wear a very fine toupee.
Yuck, thought Elizabella as she finished the poem. She decided to write something nice for herself to take her mind off things. She decided to pick up on the fixytale that Elizamamabella had never got around to finishing. It was called “The Princess and The Pea or Nobody Likes a Whinger”. It began: Once upon a time, in a world without internet dating, a prince – let’s call him Barry – was having difficulty finding true love . . . 1
1. To find out what happens with Prince Barry’s search for love, flick to the end of the book now. Or you can read it when you get to the end of this story. Or some other time when you’re bored. It’s your book, I won’t tell you what to do!
Elizabella walked to school with her love poem in a little envelope all ready to be delivered to Miss Duck. She was busy thinking about what she had written, scuffing her shoes into the dirt and fiddling with her big knot, when someone came up behind her and put their hands over her eyes.
“Guess Who?”
“Huck, if you’re going to do ‘Guess Who?’ you need to put on a voice otherwise it’s pretty obvious it’s you,” said Elizabella.
“Okay . . . a-Gueeessss a-whoooooooo?”
“Huck, I don’t know what that voice was, but I already know it’s you,” Elizabella said.
“It was a ghost,” said Huck as he moved his hands away. “Elizabella, did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”
The truth was that Elizabella’s feelings for Huck were getting harder to deny, and the more she liked him, the less she wanted him to know about it.
“No. I’m sorry, Huck,” she said.
“That’s okay,” said Huck. “Wasn’t that funny yesterday, when Minnie fished the toupee right off Mr Gobblefrump’s head?”
Elizabella stifled a grimace. “Yes, it was,” she managed to say.
“I don’t know how she managed to make Mr Gobblefrump laugh, she must be magic!”
At this point Elizabella’s eye was twitching. She desperately wanted to tell Huck that it was her who had made Mr Gobblefrump happy, not Minnie, but she thought that the fewer people who knew about this ruse for the time being, the longer it might last.
When they got to school, Elizabella went to see Miss Duck in the tuckshop. There were a few kids waiting to give their lunch orders.
Elizabella waited for the lines to clear so she could deliver the poem.
“Wonderful!” said Miss Duck after Elizabella had given her a recital. “And you want to know something? I kind of do like his toupee.”
Elizabella did a big shudder that started at the bottom of her belly and crawled all the way up until her shoulders shook and her face screwed up like she’d just eaten a lemon.
“What’s the matter? Are you cold?” asked Miss Duck, concerned.
“No, no, that’s ahh . . . very nice,” said Elizabella. Miss Duck and Mr Gobblefrump. The thought of it was gross with a capital everything. G. R. O. S. S.
“I’ll give it to him tonight,” said Miss Duck. “I’m going to his house to look at photos of his recent trip to the toothpaste factory.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun,” said Elizabella.
“I agree,” said Miss Duck. “But sometimes you have to humour the people you like.”
“Hmmmm,” said Elizabella. If being in a relationship meant looking at photos of anybody’s trip to the toothpaste factory she might stay single forever. Elizabella shivered just thinking about it. “Bye, Miss Duck!” she said as she left the tuckshop.
In the playground that morning all anyone could talk about was Minnie. Minnie this, Minnie that. And not only were people praising her for yesterday’s feats, they were already making up stories about her, which meant she was well on her way to legendary status. When the bell rang and Elizabella was lining up for class she heard it going up and down.
“I heard her mum is a spy!”
“I heard she’s two metres tall!”
“Minnie has a pet that’s a half dog, half parrot, half tree!” said Daphne.
Elizabella couldn’t take it any longer. She called out to Daphne, who was first in the line: “Daphne, that’s ridiculous. Firstly, how can something have three halves?”
Daphne spun around and said, “What’s the matter? You jealous?”
Suddenly Elizabella could feel lots of pairs of eyes on her.
“No!!” said Elizabella, way too defensively. “I’m just surprised that you don’t know how fractions work, Daphne. I thought maths was supposed to be your favourite subject.”
There were a few snickers and Daphne looked upset.
Even though Daphne annoyed the living daylights out of her, Elizabella didn’t like that she’d been mean to her just now. And she didn’t like that she hadn’t played along with Huck’s Guess Who? game that morning.
In fact, she didn’t like what the presence of Minnie was beginning to do to her at all.
That morning, after the first bell had gone, Mr Gobblefrump took advantage of the fact that his class was having a lesson in the library to make a visit down to his new favourite place in the whole school – that wondrous building that was the tuckshop. As he traversed the playground, he felt so light, as though his feet were barely touching the ground. Had anybody been there to watch him they would have sworn he was floating to the tuckshop and not walking at all.
“Petunia!” he sang as he walked in. “Petunia, Petunia, Petunia!”
Miss Duck was a little embarrassed, even though no one else was around to be embarrassed in front of.
“I have another poem for you,” said Miss Duck, as she pulled the envelope out of her pocket.
Mr Gobblefrump was thrilled. He took the envelope and held it under his moustache, which twitched with delight. He took a great big sniff.
“Okay class, today we’re learning about triangles,” said Miss Carrol.
“Psst, Elizabella,” hissed Minnie. “Is Mr Gobblehead going to be happy again today?”
Elizabella looked over at her. “I wrote another poem, if that’s what you mean,” she said, quietly, so the teacher couldn’t hear them.
“Nice work, soldier,” said Minnie.
Elizabella flinched. She did not want to be Minnie’s soldier. And she’d already made that clear.
“Hey, Elizabella,” Minnie whispered. “How do you feel about a little teamwork today?”
Elizabella looked at Minnie, surprised. This certainly wasn’t what she’d been expecting Minnie to say. Elizabella wanted to tell her to buzz off, but she also wanted to be a Big Person – and, frankly, she was curious. “I’m listening . . .”
“What are your feelings about handball?”
“Very positive.”
And with that, Minnie got to explaining her scheme to Elizabella.
“Elizabella, I need you to describe the playground. Perfectly.” Elizabella knew that playground as well as she knew her giant knot, which is to say, extremely well. She carefully described it to Minnie, who had pulled out a protractor, set squares and a grid book.
While most of the class was busy learning the difference between isosceles, scalene and equilateral triangles, Minnie had been listening intently to Elizabella and drawing parts of the playground perfectly to scale on the pages of her grid book. Then she tore them all out.
When lunchtime came, Minnie spread the pages out to make one big picture on the concrete behind the tuckshop, where no one could see. Elizabella weighed each page down with rocks. When they finished they were staring at a big bird’s-eye view of the very playground they were sitting in. With one massive difference . . .
At the four corners of the playground were the four handball courts. But in this picture, extra lines had been drawn to join them together to make one giant grid or one giant handball court, probably the biggest in the world.
Minnie picked up a stick and traced it over the lines on the diagram that connected the handball courts.
“Now what we need is heaps and heaps and heap
s of chalk,” said Minnie.
“And I know exactly where to get it,” Elizabella said. She had spotted Tabitha from Year Six in the playground.
“Tabitha, you’re on office duty today, right?” she called out, heading over to her.
“Yeah,” said Tabitha.
Every day at Bilby Creek Primary, a different kid from Year Six was the Office Duty Kid. This meant that they spent that day with whichever of the Mr Biffington–Crabs was working, helping out with whatever needed doing in the office – photocopying, taking notes to different classes and, of course, organising the Main Stationery Cupboard.
“How much chalk do you think you could get your hands on in exchange for three giant jelly snakes?” Minnie pulled the snakes out of her pocket.
“Hmmm,” said Tabitha, blowing a bubble with the gum in her mouth. Tabitha was one of those kids who was always chewing gum and never got caught for it. Tabitha considered the massive jelly snakes that Minnie was dangling in front of her.
“Probably all of the chalk,” she said.
“All of the chalk?” repeated Elizabella.
“Yep, I reckon. Mr Crab called the office from the staffroom, there’s some sort of tea spillage situation he has to clean up, he won’t be back for ages.” Tabitha went off to the Main Stationery Cupboard to get the chalk.
A few minutes later, Elizabella and Minnie had assembled a small group of helpers and an enormous amount of chalk, courtesy of Tabitha, who had stuck her gum behind her ear, swapping it out for the jelly snakes, which she was now chewing on. She watched Elizabella and Minnie get to work with their helpers. They were from all years, and had been hand-picked based on Elizabella’s confidence that they could draw a straight line. Each kid received a packet of chalk and one piece of paper from Minnie’s grid, which represented the part of the playground they were responsible for drawing on.
Soon everyone in the playground had moved to the perimeters so that they weren’t stepping where anyone was drawing. They didn’t know what was going on, but they were sure it would be good.
Samuel in kindy was the last one drawing. Despite being only five, he drew the straightest lines of anyone at Bilby Creek, and had been given three pieces of the grid paper to draw on the ground. He finished drawing his final line and called out: “Done!”
Elizabella and Minnie bustled about the playground, checking everything was in place. When they were satisfied, Elizabella took Minnie by the hand and they walked into the very centre of their creation.
“What should we call it?” Elizabella asked.
“How about Humungo Handball?” offered Minnie.
Elizabella nodded. Then she put on her loudest voice as she said: “We declare Humungo Handball open! Everybody grab a square!”
A massive cheer rang through the playground and everyone moved to stand in the squares.
Sandy stood in a square at the very top, took a tennis ball out of his pocket and yelled: “Let the first game of Humungo Handball begin!” He promptly bounced a ball so high and far it landed about twenty squares diagonally away. And with that, the game took off.
Elizabella and Minnie stood back and admired their work.
“What’s this?” asked a familiar voice. It was Mr Gobblefrump. He had been running late for playground duty that day because he was busy cleaning up the spilled tea with Mr Crab. While filling his teacup in the staffroom, Mr Gobblefrump had fallen into a daydream about Miss Duck, and before he knew it he’d poured the entire pot of tea on the floor.
“It’s called Humungo Handball,” said Minnie.
“It’s a giant handball court for everyone to play altogether,” said Elizabella.
“We drew it with chalk so it will wash off when it rains.”
“Which will be tonight, according to the weather forecast.”
Mr Gobblefrump took a big, deep breath and looked out over Humungo Handball.
“You’ve brought everyone together,” he said. “And without doing any permanent damage to school property. A marvel, girls.”
Minnie and Elizabella looked at each other.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” said Minnie.
“Likewise,” said Elizabella.
Elizabella was leaving school that afternoon with a feeling of satisfaction that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Huck ran to catch up with her as she reached the gate.
“Elizabella!” he said. “That was so cool!”
“Thanks, Huck!” she said.
“That’s the most fun anyone has had since – since – Pit Pool!”
“What about fishing the toupee off Mr Gobblefrump’s head?” asked Elizabella.
“Oh, that was fun,” said Huck. “But it was no Pit Pool.” Huck smiled at Elizabella.
“Really?” she asked.
“Not to me,” said Huck.
“Umm . . . Huck?”
“Yes?”
Elizabella was about to say something about like liking him, but as soon as she started she realised that for the first time since she could remember, she was completely lost for words.
“And this here, you won’t believe what this is! It’s none other than the machine that squirts the toothpaste into the tube! Haven’t you always wondered how they do it? Well, this is how!” Mr Gobblefrump explained proudly, pressing the remote to flick to the next photo.
It was evening time at Mr Gobblefrump’s house and the toothpaste factory slide show had been going for an hour already. “And this one–” He squinted, trying to make it out what it was. “Ah yes, I see that one is a picture of my thumb.”
Suddenly he heard an audible snore. It was so loud it gave him a little scare.
“Eep!” he squealed, which woke up Miss Duck.
“Ahhh!” she screamed back, having been frightened awake. She sat upright on the sofa.
“My dear Petunia, did you fall asleep? I would gladly go back any number of slides so that you don’t miss a thing!”
“Ah, no!” she said. “No, no, no, no, I remember every moment. It’s just sometimes I close my eyes and make a snoring sound when I am particularly enjoying myself.”
“Splendid,” said Mr Gobblefrump, completely satisfied with this response. He clicked the remote again to move on. “And this is a picture of the machine that puts the toothpaste into the box. Can you believe it? There is a machine for everything now.”
That was it.
“‘Scuse me, Chester, nature calls!” Miss Duck promptly stood up, walked to the bathroom and sat on the toilet for five full minutes. And even though she didn’t actually go, she was very much relieved.
The next day Miss Duck tried to catch Elizabella’s attention before school and at both recess and lunch, but she couldn’t see her little ghostwriter anywhere. Elizabella had spent the day fixated on her Huck Crush – trying to work out what to say to him, and never quite managing to find the words. When the final bell rang for the end of the day, Miss Duck ran out of the canteen and finally spotted her.
“Elizabella! Elizabella!”
Elizabella and Huck were about to walk home when they heard a voice ringing through the playground. Elizabella spun around to see Miss Duck peeking out of the tuckshop and gesturing for her to come over. Elizabella suddenly remembered Miss Duck had just been on her date night.
“I’d better go see what that’s about,” she said, running off.
“I can wait for you if you . . .” Huck trailed off. She was out of earshot before he could say “like”, which he said quietly to himself instead.
When Elizabella got to the tuckshop, Miss Duck was a bit agitated.
“Elizabella, remember how I told you that sometimes you have to humour the people you like?”
“Yes?”
“Maybe I was wrong.”
“The toothpaste factory slide show?”
Miss Duck stared into the distance, with a look in her eyes like someone who had suffered an unspeakable horror.
“It was . . . brutal,” she said. Elizabella’s heart sank. If
Miss Duck lost interest in Mr Gobblefrump, that would spell doom for everyone.
“Don’t you need to go out with him again to be sure how you feel?”
“Maybe, I don’t know . . .”
“Come on, Miss Duck, give him one more chance,” Elizabella encouraged.
“Well, he does want to take me out to L’Escargots Bilby, the new restaurant in town . . .”
“That sounds fun!” said Elizabella.
“They serve a fusion of traditional French and Bilby Creek cuisine!” said Miss Duck, getting a little bit excited.
“You gotta go. I’ll write you the lovey-est dovey-est poem you’ve ever seen.”
“Maybe you’re right. What would I do without you, Elizabella?”
Elizabella felt a twinge of guilt. Of course she cared about Miss Duck’s happiness, but that wasn’t really why she was trying to save the relationship.
Back in the playground, she looked around for her crush, but it seemed Huck had gone home. Minnie, however, was waiting for her. “What happened in there?”
“Bad news, seems like Miss Duck is going cold on Gobblefrump.”
“No! This is a disaster of epic proportions,” said Minnie.
“I know. They’re going out on one more date tomorrow night.”
“You’d better write a good poem to reignite their flame.”
“Oh, I know, I’m on it,” said Elizabella.
“Like Mèng Hàorán good,” continued Minnie.
“Who’s that?”
Minnie looked at Elizabella, shocked. “You don’t know Mèng Hàorán?”
“No, who is that?”
“He’s one of the most important poets from the Tang Dynasty . . .”
Elizabella had no idea what Minnie was talking about.
“Ummm . . . aka the Golden Age of Chinese poetry?” Minnie said.
Elizabella shrugged. “Nope, no idea.”
“I thought you were the poetry expert!” said Minnie. “Let me teach you one of his poems. It’s called ‘Spring Morning’.”
Elizabella Meets Her Match Page 7
