The Story of the Blue Planet (3 page)

Hulda shook her head. “You and your crazy, mixed-up dreams.”

“I think we’ve slept too long,” said Brimir rubbing his eyes.

“Let’s find the others before the monster eats us all.”

The children walked for a long, long time through the forest. It was by now a bright sunny day, but there wasn’t a single child in sight. There were no children by the river or up on the hills. There was no child in the valley or under the mountain. Brimir and Hulda shouted and called, but nobody answered except the monkeys in the trees and the rustling leaves.

“I think the monster’s already eaten our friends,” whimpered Brimir.

“I’ll find the club I used to knock out the seal,” said Hulda, “and I’ll knock out the space monster.”

Hulda swung her club and almost knocked out Brimir. They crept down to the black beach, where they heard a frightful noise.

“Hush, Hulda, what’s that sound? Is that the noise a space monster makes when it cracks open skulls and sucks out the brains?”

“It sounds more like laughter to me,” said Hulda.

“Oh, no!” shouted Brimir. “That means there isn’t just one space monster but a whole bunch of horrible, laughing space monsters, more dangerous than all the wolves and all the lions and all the poisonous snakes put together!”

They crawled, trembling on hands and knees, up to the ridge of the crater and looked down to where the spaceship had crashed. An unbelievable sight awaited them.

Mr. Goodday

“What’s that?” asked Brimir, amazed.

“The monster is like an overgrown child!” said Hulda, catching her breath.

“I think I know what it is,” said Brimir. “It could be a grown-up, they’re supposed to be gigantic.”

This grown-up man also appeared to be hilarious, for all around him sat most of their friends laughing their heads off! They were all looking at this amazing creature sitting on top of a twisted space rocket. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt with a gray briefcase in his hand. He certainly did not look like a space monster.

“Are grown-ups dangerous?” asked Brimir.

“Some of them are very dangerous, but this one just seems to be funny,” said Hulda.

Brimir and Hulda breathed easier, but still looked a little embarrassed. The extremely dangerous space monster was just a very funny man. They crept down into the crater to join the children.

Brimir sat by his friend Magni who was bursting with laughter.

“Who is he?” asked Brimir.

“Ssh! Just listen.”

“Hello, kids. My name is Gleesome Goodday and I’m the most
way-out
guy in the world and I can do
ANYTHING
, let me tell you, because I’m the coolest man who has ever set foot on this blue planet!”

Mr. Goodday handed out his card among the children.

“A dream-come-true-maker?”

“A Stardust vacuum cleaner traveling salesman?”

“Wow, that’s a weird job,” said Hulda.

“You are all so unbelievably lucky to have been chosen for a
special
offer
,” cried Mr. Goodday. “I am going make your sweetest dreams come true!”

“Are dreams not true?” asked Arnar the thinker.

“When you fall asleep at night the dreams wake up. They crawl through your ears like little bugs and walk inside your brain and tell you strange stories all night. Sometimes the stories are so amusing that you don’t want to wake. But sometimes they are so terrifying that you’d rather never fall asleep again. I know how to make your dreams come true.”

“Are you sure that dreams can come true?” asked Brimir. “Mine are so weird.”

The children looked at Brimir and laughed. He had often told them of his dreams in the morning and they were truly amazing.

“Like the dream of the flying penguins and the nightmare about the screaming trees,” said Hulda and laughed.

Mr. Goodday looked over the group of children and smiled.

“What’s your name, young man?”

“My name’s Brimir.”

“Well, what are we waiting for Brimir? I’ll start by changing you into a flying penguin.”

Mr. Goodday turned to Brimir and waved his arms around.

“Dreamacadabra, a flying penguin you shall be …”

The children watched in amazement while Brimir closed his eyes and waited for whatever would happen. But Mr. Goodday just laughed and did a reverse somersault off the spaceship.

“I was just joking! I make your most wildest dreams come true, not your weirdest, and so make life a hundred times better.”

The kids giggled.

“Do you want to make life better? Then you’re really on the wrong planet. We think life is great! It can’t get any better.”

“Let’s see,” said Mr. Goodday. “What’s the greatest fun you can think of?”

Magni answered first.

“When the moon is full I go to the high cliffs with my bird-net and listen to the wind and the waves. I sit on the edge of the cliff and wait for the bats to crawl out of their holes and glide around in the moonlight and suck the blood out of the seals sleeping on the rocks below. Then I catch a few bats with my net and roast them on a fire and make hats from their wings.”

“I like climbing to the top of mountains and looking out over the land, but I most want to climb the Blue Mountains,” said Ragnar, and looked dreamily into the distance.

“When the rain pours down from the sky we can swing through the trees and jump down into muddy puddles, and when I’m splattered up to my neck I can go and wash myself clean in the misty spray from the waterfall,” said Elva smiling.

And so the children continued, on and on, until they heard a tremendous yawn.

It was from Mr. Goodday.

“Oh, I do beg your pardon, dear kids, but this was all so dreadfully dull and boring that I almost fell asleep. Don’t you really know how to have a good time?”

The children looked at each other in surprise.

“But that is having a good time!”

“Yeah, we think so!”

“No, no, I’m talking about real fun and games,” said Mr. Goodday. “Oh dear, you’re all so horribly underdeveloped.”

There was silence for a little while, and then suddenly Hulda lit up.

“We forgot the most best thing of all, guys! When the butterflies wake up in the cave and follow the sun. That’s real fun because it’s the most beautiful thing that ever happens in the world!”

“After the flight of the butterflies we’re so happy that our happiness lasts a whole year, right until the butterflies fly again. Then we’re out of this world with joy!”

Mr. Goodday yawned again.

“What do you know of the world? Okay, so there are beautiful butterflies, fine. But I can show you things much
cooler
and even more
fun
than all of what you’ve said put together, all at a special-terms, special-offer price with a sales discount!”

“Cooler and more fun?”

“At a special-terms, special-offer price?”

“Yes, that’s right, with a sales discount!”

“But nothing costs anything here,” said Magni.

“I’m quite sure you’ll want to pay for this,” said Mr. Goodday smiling over the group. He looked straight into the eyes of every single child.

“Do you want to fly? Free as birds? Light as a butterfly?”

Butterfly Powder

Mr. Goodday knew that everyone dreamed of flying like a bird or a butterfly over mountains and wilderness. Even old women with a fear of heights wake up with their hearts full of joy after such a dream.

Brimir answered for the children.

“Of course we want to fly like butterflies. At night we dream countless dreams in which we fly and glide, and they’re the most enjoyable dreams we have. But we know it’s impossible because of gravity.”

“Are you trying to trick us?” asked Hulda looking searchingly at Mr. Goodday.

“No, I’m not trying to trick you. I really do know a way to let you fly.”

The kids looked at each other skeptically.

“Could we really get to fly in the air like the birds?”

“Show me where the butterflies sleep and you shall fly. That’s a promise, and not a lie.”

The children had butterflies in their tummies. Could they really fly? They set off in single row through the forest, along the river, over the hills, and through the valley until they came to the cave in the mountain where the butterflies sleep for a whole year after following the sun around the planet.

“Hush!” whispered the children. “We mustn’t wake the butterflies.”

“Is this the butterfly cave?” shouted Mr. Goodday, peeping through the opening.

“Yes, the butterflies sleep here.”

Mr. Goodday took a large vacuum cleaner out of his case.

“This is an AP XU 456r 2000 Super Vacuum Cleaner.”

“Won’t it wake the butterflies?”

“Vacuum cleaners are silent, don’t you know anything?” asked Mr. Goodday in amazement.

He connected a long tube to the machine and stuck it through the cave mouth. He turned the machine on— and it was true, it made no sound at all.

“Are you sucking up the butterflies?” asked Brimir, growing pale.

“There are no laws in this island so it must be okay to vacuum-clean butterflies.”

“Are you vacuuming up the butterflies?” asked the children, terrified.

“My goodness, how you all get so worked up! Have a look in the cave.”

The kids looked into the cave and saw all the floors and walls and rocks were covered with butterflies fast asleep, just as usual. They all sighed with relief.

Mr. Goodday opened the vacuum cleaner, took the dust-bag out and held it up high.

“Do you know what’s in this bag?”

The children looked at each other.

“Stardust?”

“Butterfly poop?”

“No, it’s the most unbelievable magic powder in the world, my dears. It’s BUTTERFLY POWDER!”

“Butterfly powder?”

“Have you never caught a butterfly?”

They had all caught a butterfly at one time or another.

“When you let it go isn’t the palm of your hand sometimes covered by a glittering dust?”

“Yes,” said the children.

“That’s the powder that makes the butterflies fly when the sun shines on their wings.”

“And what are we supposed to do with this butterfly powder?” asked the children.