The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles (12 page)

BOOK: The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles
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Tom could only wave a hand to show that he understood. He had to concentrate very hard, for the huge bubble was now bigger than he was. He
felt a tugging sensation and realized that the bubble was pulling him, lifting him out of the tree. He kicked his legs as hard as he could. There was a loud squelchy
pop
and Tom suddenly floated up into the sky.

Lindy, the professor and Ben witnessed the amazing spectacle of a boy soaring through the air at the end of a giant balloon.

"Keep it up, Tom! Keep it up!" cried the professor.

Ben stopped his chewing for a moment and observed his brother with considerable respect and awe.

A little way out of the grove, Tom floated gently down to earth, landing near the professor. The tremendous bubble collapsed in a sticky heap on top of him. Lindy and the professor quickly cleared it away and the boy sat up, greatly relieved to be on firm ground once again.

The professor called out, "All right, Ben. You know what you have to do. Let's see if you can blow a bigger bubble than Tom."

Ben chewed hard and tried a number of times before he produced a bubble with any promise of success. He blew it up very, very carefully, and everyone sent up a terrific cheer as he rose out of the tree and high into the sky, up and up, until he was eventually just a dot among the clouds.

Then a terrible thing happened. The huge bubble exploded and Ben tumbled towards the earth.

Lindy
screamed, Tom gasped and the professor shouted,
"Blow another bubble!"

Ben worked frantically at the wad of gum in his mouth. It was difficult because he was rolling over and over as he fell. It was only a matter of seconds, but it seemed like an eternity before he was able to blow another bubble large enough to break his fall.

He made a very bumpy landing. He looked pale and uttered strange, garbled sounds. It was apparent that he had swallowed his gum.

The professor gave him a tremendous thump on the back and Ben coughed the gum up. He drew in deep breaths of fresh air and it was not long before his color returned to normal.

"We have wasted valuable time," said the professor. "The Gazooks will certainly have used this delay to go to the Prock, and that means more trouble." He tipped his head and said, with gentle scorn, "It would be such a help if we could stay together from now on and work as a team. Do you think we might manage that?"

The children nodded fervently.

"Right. Then let's get out of this miserable spot."

THREE

They were glad to be on the move once more. Ben said, "Professor, I meant to tell you something. When I was up in the air I had quite a good view of the palace."

The professor was
intrigued. "What did you see?"

"There's a long bridge over a deep chasm."

"Ha. That's good to know. Did you see a path going up the mountain?"

"Yes, it's the same pink trail that we're on now." Tom sniffed the air. "I smell something good." Lindy's nose twitched. "It's like honeysuckle."

A wonderful smile appeared on the professor's face. "It
is
honeysuckle—it's coming on the breeze," he said. "I've heard that the Whangdoodle's palace has the perfume of honeysuckle around it all the time. We
are
getting close."

They were almost at the base of the Whangdoodle's mountain. Through a natural rock arch, the pink road wound its way to the summit. They could see the gleaming turrets of the palace above the scudding clouds.

"Not long now, Professor," said Ben encouragingly.

He had no sooner spoken the words than they were echoed by a chorus of soft voices in the surrounding hills. "Not long now. Not long now."

The professor said distractedly, "Fiddlesticks. What is that? What's going on?"

"What's going on? What's going on?" said the voices, and they grew a little louder.

The children moved close to the professor. They could see nothing to account for the voices and there was no clue as to where they were coming from. The echoes chased themselves around and around.

The professor rubbed his head irritably. "This is too much. I mean, a fight is a fight, but the Prock goes too far." He raised his voice. "Come on out. Come on, whoever you are. Let's see you."

"Let's see you. Let's see you," mocked the voices, laughing shrilly.

Lindy took the professor's hand, her face white with fear.

Ben felt the anger welling up within him. "Now stop that," he cried.

"Stop that. Stop that. Nyaa! Nyaa! Nyaa!" The voices grew louder yet.

Then, quite suddenly and with tremendous energy, a large furry creature hurtled out of nowhere and landed on the path in front of the professor, who gasped and recoiled with shock.

The creature w
as a bright bilious green, with
shaggy fur and apelike features. It had a hideous grin and displayed a startling array of sharp pointed teeth. It was screaming and dancing up and down, hurling abuse at the professor and the children.

"Get out of here. Get out. Yaaa! Miserable people.
Miserable!"

The Whiffle Bird panicked and screamed her traditional "MAYDAY!" as a horde of identical creatures swarmed over the hilltops towards them. They were shrieking and skulking and leaping and lurking and saying the most appalling things.

Horrid people! Go away—Don't come back another day.

Ugly busybody!

Sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong.

Beastly human, leave this place; We can't stand your silly face.

This last remark was directed at the professor. He spoke calmly over the noise of the jeering mob. "Children, try not to be frightened. Stand perfectly still and do not answer back."

"What are these awful things?" Ben gasped as one green monster poked his arm with a sharp finger.

"Awful things! Awful! Awful!" yelled the furry horde.

"They're called Swamp Gaboons, I think," said the professor. His head was beginning to pound from the noise.

Swamp Gaboons. Swamp Gaboons.

Handsome, happy, crazy loons.

The creatures linked arms, completely blocking the archway. They executed a series of precision high kicks, and the sight of them bobbing up and down like a chorus line with their shaggy green fur shaking and shimmying was almost funny.

But the abuse was hard to take. One Gaboon skipped forward and pushed its face close to Tom. "Blaaah . . . silly boy," it said, sticking out its tongue and waving its arms.

Tom couldn't help himself. He stuck out his own tongue and yelled back, "Blaaah to you too."

The Swamp Gaboon was delighted. "O
ooo
. . . isn't he rude!" he screamed, and danced away to join his laughing companions.

The professor spoke sternly. "Thomas, that is
not
the way to behave. I warned you not to answer back. It only encourages them."

The Gaboons bunched together and chanted in hideous harmony:

We don't care, we don't care.

Sleek of fur and green of hair.

Tough of tooth and sharp of nail.

Legs that kick and arms that flail.

Even if you scream and fuss

We've no feelings. Can't hurt us.

They began hurling twigs and small stones at the professor and the children.

Lindy said through clenched teeth, "I hate them. I absolutely, positively hate those bullies. They're gross!"

"Gross. Gross. Gross. Gross. Oh . . . isn't she cute?" The creatures simpered and sneered.

The Whiffle Bird flew onto Tom's shoulder. She too was disturbed by the shrieking mob and she screamed, "MIND YOUR MANNERS!" in an angry voice.

The Swamp Gaboons rolled on the ground in delight. "Mind your manners. Listen to Mommy. Listen to Mommy."

Lindy could contain herself no longer. She took a step forward. "You know what I think?" she shouted. "I think you're all very,
very
rude. You have no right to speak to people like that."

One Gaboon blew her a loud raspberry. Another stood on its head and wiggled its ears.

"Lindy, that's enough!" said the professor sharply.

But Lindy had been pushed too far. "If
my
mummy were here right now, do you know what she'd say to you?"

"What would she say? What would your mummy say?" A Gaboon raced up to her and sat down with crossed legs and a hand under its chin.

Lindy scolded, "She'd say, it's perfectly all right to think bad things . . ."

"To think bad things," echoed the Gaboon.

". . . But you don't have the right to say them. It's
not
polite. Mummy wouldn't like you at all . . . and I wish she were here now." Lindy's thumb went into her mouth and she began to cry.

The Gaboon pulled a sad face. "Aaah . . . the little girl is all upset. See what you've done, fellers . . . you've made her cry."

"Aaaah." All the Gaboons pretended to be sad. They mocked Lindy and each put a thumb in its mouth. One raced up to her and screamed nastily, "Serves you right," then it jumped in the air and ran away.

Benjamin was furious. Until now, he had been able to control himself. But seeing how cruelly the Gaboons were teasing Lindy made him lose all reason. The professor caught him just as he was about to hurl himself upon the offending creatures.

"Benjamin. Control yourself. Lindy, stop that crying. Now listen to me, all of you."

The Swamp Gaboons, feigning interest, crowded around. But as soon as the professor began to speak, they made such a racket it was hard for the children to understand what he was saying.

"The Whiffle Bird said 'Mind your manners' and that's what we're going to do. The more you respond to these miserable creatures"—the professor ducked as one of them tried to pull his hair—"the more ammunition you give them. Unless we ignore them, we'll never get through."

"You'll never get through. You'll never get through. You stupid, sloppy, no-good human." The Gaboons shrieked and formed a line across the archway again.

"The madder you get," continued the professor, "the more they love it!"

"We love it. We love it," roared the furry mob.

"So we are going to ignore them. I believe that if we do this and concentrate on the important issue, which is
why
we are here and
whom
we came to find," said the professor, speaking the words with great emphasis, "then I do not think they can stop us.

Come on now. Stare the creatures down if you have to, but do not respond to them."

The children and the professor began to walk slowly towards the arch.

The Swamp Gaboons went berserk. "Hateful boys, silly girl, monster man!" they yelled. They tugged at the professor's clothing and pulled Lindy's hair and pinched Ben and Tom.

The professor raised his voice again. "I do believe it's going to be fine weather at the top of the mountain, don't you?"

Ben took the cue. "I think you're right, sir. Lindy, can you see the palace up there? Don't you wonder what it's going to be like?"

"I . . . I I. . . oh, yes I do," Lindy replied bravely. She was still close to tears, but she put an arm around Ben and said fiercely, "Ask me something else, quick."

"Well now, Professor, Lindy wants me to ask her something. Tom, do you have anything to say?"

Ben had no idea what he was talking about, but
just saying things made it easier to ignore the tormenting crowd.

They reached the arch and the Gaboons were in a frenzy. "Don't you dare go through! Don't you dare!" they bawled.

One Gaboon with foul breath thrust its face close to Tom. "Do you know you have a silly nose?" it hissed.

Tom swallowed hard. The professor said lightly, "Steady, Tom."

"You have cauliflower ears, too," mocked the Gaboon, "and crossed eyes and yellow teeth!"

"Thank you
so
much," Tom managed to say politely, and to his surprise he felt rather good.

The professor tapped a large Swamp Gaboon on the shoulder with his umbrella. "Excuse me, my good fellow, we'd like to get through, if you don't mind. Now, Ben, you were saying . . . ?"

He walked past the creature slowly and calmly. It bellowed with anger. "Don't touch me, you measly wart. I hate you."

It belched loudly in Ben's ear. The boy jumped, but he kept his arm around Lindy and continued to walk beside the professor.

"Not long now, I think," said the professor encouragingly. "See, we're under the arch and there is the road ahead. Keep your eyes on it, children."

"Look out! Look out! There's a monster behind you!" screamed the Gaboons.

"Don't look back," urged the professor.

"Your shirt's hanging out, you ridiculous boy." Tom felt something tugging at his pants. He put
his hand behind him, and a Swamp Gaboon grasped his fingers and held them tightly. Tom looked imploringly at the professor.

"Keep walking, Tom, even if you drag the creature with you. Just keep moving."

The Swamp Gaboon hung on and dug in its heels. It sat down on the road like a sulky child refusing to walk. "I'll bite you," it said cunningly. "I'll bite your hand off, you nasty boy."

Tom felt sharp teeth nibbling at his fingers. It took all his self-control to overcome his panic. Then he had an idea. He turned quickly and whacked the Gaboon sharply on the top of its head. At the same time, he pumped the hand that was holding his and said politely, "It was such a pleasure meeting you, old boy. Goodbye." The Gaboon was so surprised that it released Tom's fingers and the boy instantly put both hands in his pockets.

Now the Swamp Gaboons changed their tactics. As the professor and the children walked farther and farther away from them they sobbed and howled and tried all manner of last-minute tricks to gain their attention.

"Come back,
come back. I was only joking."

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