The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles (17 page)

Sweets for a sweet tooth, Confections for the royal.

Put it in a saucepan

And leave it there to boil.

The Prock patted the Oinck on the shoulder. "Keep up the good work. His Majesty is delighted with the cooking." He winked at the children and whispered, "He is awfully vague at times, but there's not a better wodge maker in the country."

The Oinck said solemnly, "Watch out for yesterday. It'll catch up with you every time."

The children learned how the palace was organized. The household chores were carried out by hundreds of
penguin like
creatures called "Jiffies." They were always running frantically about the place and seemed terribly busy. The Prock explained that it was not in a Jiffy's nature to walk, which was why they made such efficient help. "You see, they get things done in half the time and that leaves them plenty of time to play, which is something they love to do."

The other important members of the palace staff were the little furry Flukes. They were couriers for the Whangdoodle, ran errands and generally made themselves useful.

Tom asked if he could visit the Whiffle Bird. He found her curled up on a pillow in a small cheerful room. She looked tiny and fragile, and her colors were dull, as she lay listless and alone. But the moment she saw Tom she brightened considerably.

"Hello, Whiffle Bird. We've all been so worried about you. How are you feeling?"

She fluffed out her feathers and began to make small crooning noises. Tom knelt down and stroked her fondly. He saw the tiny hands come through the waving plumes and the black button eyes staring out at him.

"I do hope you'll be well enough to get out and about soon. It's lonely without you, you know."

His words seemed to work wonders, for she began to strut up and down and behave much like her old self:

"I'll come back and visit again, if you promise to get well soon. Is that a deal?"

At this she seemed very content and settled back in a corner to rest. Tom left the room feeling much happier; after worrying so much about the Whiffle Bird, it was good to know that she was on the road to recovery.

The Whangdoodle sent for the children often and they spent long hours with him. They were wonderful hours; for he was the most gracious and fun-loving host. He was thrilled and stimulated by their visits, yet at times his mind was obviously elsewhere. Under the circumstances it wasn't hard to guess that His Majesty was most anxiously waiting to hear from the professor.

The weather became very cloudy and still. Late one afternoon it began to rain, slowly at first—large drops splashing against the crystal walls and running down in shimmering rivulets. The wind rose and the rain came down harder.

The Prock hurried into the salon where the Whangdoodle was having tea and wodge with the children. There was a rumble of thunder overhead. The Prock spoke with restrained excitement.

"Your Majesty, it hasn't rained in years. Not like this. You know what that could mean?"

"I know, I know, my good fellow. I was thinking the same thing myself." The Whangdoodle began to tremble and rose unsteadily to his feet. "Oh, my goodness, do you suppose that . . ." He gulped and was unable to finish the sentence.

The Prock seemed to be listening for something. "In olden days we believed that a storm such as this was an omen. Something out of the ordinary is going to happen. I'm quite sure of it."

The thunder rumbled once more and the wind chimes in the courtyards sang an eerie song. Over the sound came another sound—a faint chattering noise that brought the children to their feet as it grew louder and louder.

The Prock strode to the big double doors and flung them open.

The noise was almost deafening. Running towards him down the corridor were all the members of the royal household. They were chattering and tripping, and falling over each other in their haste and excitement.

The Jiffies were screaming, "It's done, Your Majesty! It's done! It's done!"

"Come and see! Come and see!" cried the little Flukes. They tugged at the Whangdoodle's slippers. "Hurry, Your Majesty!"

Sidewinders thrashed through the crowd, waving their trunks in the air and yelling, "The professor says to come straightaway!"

"Yes, yes! Straightaway!" everybody shouted at once.

Ben cried in triumph, "He's done it! He's done it!"

The Whangdoodle turned bright red and leaned momentarily against the Prock. He clutched his stomach. Then, regaining control, he began to gallop towards the Great Hall.

The Jiffies and the Sidewinders and the Flukes fell back to allow him room, but the moment he had passed, the vast throng closed ranks and followed after him.

Tom, Ben and Lindy found themselves being swept along. In their excitement they unashamedly pushed and shoved until they were at the head of the crowd and close behind the Whangdoodle. He skidded to a halt just inside the doors of the Great Hall. As abruptly as the noise had begun, it died away.

In the hushed, expectant silence, a weary and exhausted Professor Savant walked forward to greet the Whangdoodle,

"Your Majesty—" he said, and the children knew that it was hard for him to control his excitement. "There is someone I would like you to meet."

He stepped to one side. A gasp of astonishment rose from the crowd.

Seated on a white silk cushion in the center of the room, looking at everyone with much curiosity, was a smaller, daintier, and undeniably feminine replica of the Whangdoodle. She was the color of a fawn; her eyes were large and soft with long, curling lashes. On her head were small antlers which she wore like a crown. Her front hooves were crossed delicately on the pillow and her back hooves were covered by a pair of tiny satin slippers. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

She caught sight of the King and blinked with surprise, and then smiled to reveal one sweet tooth with a daisy on it.

In a voice that suggested the softest murmurings of a harp, she whispered, "Umbledumbledum."

The Whangdoodle stood absolutely still, momentarily stunned. He turned every color of the rainbow. Then his legs buckled beneath him and he fainted.

EIGHT

The Great Hall was cleared in readiness for a celebration. As miraculously as it had been turned into a laboratory, it now turned into a banquet hall.

Lanterns and banners and silk canopies and ribbons were brought in. Tables and chairs were set for a tremendous feast. The royal gold and silver was polished until it shone brighter than ever before. Flowers were gathered. Great and exotic dishes were prepared.

The Whangdoodle had ordered the greatest party in the history of Whangdoodleland, and the palace staff intended to see that he got it. The King was beside himself with happiness, and the entire country rejoiced with him.

Lindy was concerned about a dress when the subject of a party was first suggested. "I don't have anything to wear," she cried in dismay. "I can't go to a party in these old clothes."

The Whangdoodle put her at ease. He commissioned a dress of ambrosia flowers for her, with a band of Flutterbye silk for her hair. New clothes were fashioned for the professor and the boys, and each was given a handsome cape for the occasion.

By sunset everything was ready and the excitement in the palace was intense.

The Splintercat was the first to arrive. He bounded into the Great Hall with tremendous enthusiasm and seemed genuinely pleased to see Lindy. He had brushed his silky fur until it shone. He wore a diamond bracelet around his tail.

The Whiffle Bird was well enough to join the party, and for most of the evening stayed close to Tom.

The Oinck came from the kitchens and, for a change, he looked quite cheerful. He wore a smart frilly hat which kept falling over his eyes.

The Sidewinders wore their dress uniforms with bright-red shoes and golden stockings on their ten legs.

The Prock surprised everyone. He arrived at the party looking resplendent in an embroidered frock coat and a silver trilby hat, and carrying a long, jeweled staff.

"You really do look like a prime minister," Ben said.

The Prock actually blushed. "Oh, this old thing. I haven't taken it out of the cupboard for at least two hundred years."

Lindy's flower dress was a triumph. Tom said candidly that she had never smelled so nice.

The boys were handsome in their new capes, and the professor looked particularly dashing. The Whangdoodle had presented him with a gold laurel wreath, which sat with distinction on his venerable head. He had tucked his new crimson corduroy trousers into his purple socks, and, of course, he wore the cape and the special ring that the Whangdoodle had given him.

By the time every Jiffy and Fluke had been packed into the hall, the place was filled to capacity.

At the appropriate moment, the Prock moved to a velvet covered platform at the far end of the room, where there were two golden chairs. Above them hung a silken canopy and a burnished shield with the words
Pax amor et lepos in iocando.

The Prock banged his staff for attention and his voice rang through the hall.

"Citizens of Whangdoodleland. Honored guests. Your attention, please. It is with greatest pleasure that I present to you His Majesty the King . . . and his lovely Queen."

The entire congregation sank to their knees, and there was a sigh of delight, as the royal couple entered.

The Whangdoodle's antlers were adorned with the royal jewels and he glittered and sparkled like a Christmas tree. His shy and enchanting bride wore a simple diamond coronet.

Everyone cheered. Love and happiness filled the beautiful room.

The Prock danced with Lindy. Ben was an instant success with the female Jiffies. They thought him most handsome and plied him with sweets and paid him so much attention that he became quite embarrassed.

Lindy was asked to sing and she happily complied. Her sweet voice pleased everyone, and the Splinter-cat obligingly put his head in the punch bowl to keep from howling.

The Whangdoodle spent every second with his bride. He was unashamedly in love and very keen

to impress her. At one point his exuberance got the better of him and he turned every color of the rainbow while dancing cabrioles and banging his new slippers together.

Lindy said, "Your Majesty, you're changing color. Is that Flange?"

"Yes! Yes! Flange! Flange! Flange!" the King yelled at the top of his voice. "It's surprisingly simple this evening. Can't think why."

The grand ball continued long into the night. Everyone agreed that there had never been such a party. The doors of the palace were opened and dancing couples spilled out into the crystal courtyards and waltzed beneath a sparkling, starry sky.

The professor sat quietly beside the royal couple and watched them proudly. The Whangdoodle moved over to speak with him.

"My good friend, my dear, dear Professor," he lisped affectionately. "How can I ever thank you for what you have done? You have given me all that my heart desired."

"I'm glad, Your Majesty. That makes me very happy. Remember that your wife will need a lot of care. She is still fragile and needs to gain strength. Have you decided on a name for her yet?"

"I thought that I'd leave the choice to you. Will you do me the honor and think of something pretty?

We intend to have a quiet christening in a couple of days."

The professor thought about it. "I think that I would like the Queen to be named something simple. She is the very essence of what my work is all about, and I am most proud of the achievement. How about Clarity?"

"Splendid. Splendid. A lovely name. Claire for short."

The Whangdoodle turned to his wife and said, "My dear, the professor has thought of a perfect name for you. You are to be christened Clarity."

The little Whangdoodle looked at the King and murmured, "Umbledumbledum."

The Whangdoodle immediately turned Crash Pink.

The professor smiled. "What does that word mean, Your Majesty?"

"It is a special term of endearment known to all Whangdoodles."

The professor smiled. "Sire, there is one very important thing that I would like to discuss with you, and that is the children and the matter of their hats—the scrappy caps. It is imperative that you give them back to me."

The Whangdoodle looked uncomfortable. "Couldn't we talk about that tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid not. You see, tomorrow, we simply must be on our way."

"Bother." The Whangdoodle fell silent for a moment. He looked up. "I don't want you to go, you know."

"Oh, Your Majesty. We don't want to go either."

"I know that it will somehow get out that you came to see me. That will be the beginning of the end. Life is so wonderful now. There's more reason than ever for me to protect it." The King looked worried and dispirited. "I don't see how I can possibly let you go."

"But, Sire . . . think of the children and their family. It would be unfair and not at all like you if you refused to allow them to go home. It is important that they continue to live their lives as they were meant to live them. Consider how you would feel if you were separated from your wife and were unable to see her again."

"Oh, my goodness." The King turned white. "I do see what you mean. But humans aren't to be trusted, are they?"

"Might I suggest you start learning to trust again, Your Majesty? You used to, in the old days. Why would any of us want to spoil life for you? We'd be destroying the very thing we've come to appreciate and love."

"I shall miss you." The Whangdoodle's eyes grew moist and he blinked several times.

"We will miss you too."

"Will you come back and visit?"

The professor spoke sincerely. "You have only to send word."

"Yes. Good." The Whangdoodle beckoned to the Prock. "Prock, old boy. Fetch the hats—the scrappy caps. The professor and the children will be leaving in the morning. Also, have
The Jolly Boat
brought up. I want to escort them home."

Everyone turned out to see them off.

It was a sparkling fresh morning.
The Jolly Boat
moved down the Golden River with the professor and the children and the Prock and the Whangdoodle aboard. Clarity stayed behind at the palace in order to rest for her royal christening.

The children felt mixed emotions of happiness and sadness. It was good to be going home, but sad to be saying goodbye. They brightened, however, when the professor revealed that the Whangdoodle had extended an invitation to come and visit again another day.

As they sailed along they made good use of the royal soda fountain. Having eaten their fill, the children reflected on all the exciting things they had done and the wonders they had seen.

Lindy looked at the mountains and remembered the Gyascutus and wondered how she had ever managed to pluck up enough courage to cross the bridge for the professor.

Ben saw the needle rock and thought how narrowly they had missed being caught by the Splintercat.

Tom recalled his valiant dash to catch up with
The Brainstrain.
Each child concluded that every danger, every challenge, had finally been worthwhile.

The Whangdoodle was deep in conversation with the professor. "I'm going to tell you a secret," he confided. "The Prock said never to tell anyone, but I want to tell you. When all the other Whangdoodles disappeared so many hundreds of years ago, it was because humanity chose to forget them. The only reason I was able to stay alive in those dreadful times was because I was certain that somebody, somewhere, still believed in me. I thought you might like to know how good it feels to have my faith justified after all these years."

The professor was so touched, he was unable to reply. The Whangdoodle continued. "I don't suppose
you
could stay on, could you? I understand about the children having to go. But couldn't you stay?"

"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty. There is a lot of work for me to finish."

"Mmm. I was just thinking that I could use your advice. I mean, I've never been married before. I hope I'll be able to look after Claire properly—you know, be a wise husband and everything."

"I don't think you'll have any problems, Your Majesty. Just love her very much, as she so obviously loves you, and you'll find the answers, never fear."

The Jolly Boat
pulled into its mooring on the Blandlands plain. The children and the professor said their goodbyes. It was a sad moment.

There was a sudden flurry of feathers and the Whiffle Bird appeared out of nowhere and flew straight onto Tom's shoulder. She screamed "MAYDAY!" right in his ear.

"What is it, Whiffle Bird? What is it?" he gasped. She made frantic little sounds and hung on to his jacket.

The Prock stepped forward and said wisely, "It is because you are leaving. Come along, Whiffle Bird. Thomas will be back another day."

"Of course I will," said Tom bravely. He lifted her off his shoulder and handed her gently to the Prock.

"Now, you take care of yourself, dear Whiffle Bird. I'll see you soon." He turned away so that she could not see his distress.

The professor glanced at the children, then looked at the Whangdoodle. He gave a meaningful nod of farewell. The children suddenly felt the world beginning to spin, and the familiar dazzling light surrounded them. Almost immediately they found themselves back in the professor's garden.

The professor said quietly, "You'd better hurry on home. Ethel will be waiting for you."

Lindy flung her arms about him. "Oh, Professor, thank you for the best time ever. It was wonderful. Will we see you soon?"

"Yes, I'll be here from time to time, though Washington will be my base."

"It's not going to be the same without you," said Ben.

"Good heavens, you can't have life handed to you on a platter every day," said the professor. "That would be very boring and there'd be no satisfaction in it. You shouldn't be needing me at all for a while. You've learned your lessons well. Look around you. Don't you see things differently now?"

The children gazed at the garden and the familiar house and the sky above and realized that they were aware of every detail, every color, every texture. It was hard to believe there had ever been a time when they had not seen the world with the same clarity.

The professor put his arms around them and said firmly, "Listen to me. You have all the tools, all the equipment necessary to make your own world as wonderful as Whangdoodleland. So how about trying? If you set a good enough example you could start a fashion. Think of the favor you'd be doing the Whangdoodle. He might be persuaded to visit one day; he might just stay around if we all tried hard enough. It's up to each and every one of us. Now be off with you. I love you, and I'll write you a long letter from Washington."