by Roddy Doyle
So the Gigglers were now behind their wall, waiting for the twins’ mam. They knew she’d be wearing her brand-new green gym shoes. They knew that one of those shoes was going to plonk itself down on a good old-fashioned dollop of dog poo.
But they didn’t have the poo. Those gym shoes were going to go straight past the Gigglers, still green and very clean.
‘Where is Rover?’ the biggest Giggler whispered.
‘DON’T KNOW!’ said the tiny, tiny Giggler.
‘Shhhhh!’
‘SORRY!’
‘I texted him,’ said the smaller Giggler. ‘But he hasn’t answered.’
Chapter Seventeen
Where was Rover?
He was running after the white van and he was well on his way to the airport.
He knew the Gigglers were waiting for him and he knew he was letting them down. But he knew they would understand when they found out why he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to be doing – bringing them poo. He really wanted to catch up with the white van, so he could get back to work. But vans with engines are quick, and middle-aged dogs with big bellies—
WHAT?
Sorry, Rover. Even elderly dogs—
WHAT?!
Even middle-aged dogs who exercise regularly and are very careful about what they eat – these dogs start off fast but they have to slow down. Rover knew he would never catch the white van if he just followed it along the road. But there was something else that Rover knew.
A short cut.
Rover knew all the short cuts. He knew the little lanes and secret corners that no one else knew. He knew about tunnels that went under whole cities and countries. He knew that jumping over a wall often made much more sense than going around it.
Robbie on his dad’s bike was way ahead of Rover.
But Rover knew a short cut.
OH NO!
Chapter Seventeen . . .
Isn’t Over Yet
While the evil crispies were taking over the world, Rover was remembering the best short cut to the airport.
‘Messi,’ he said.
‘Yes, Uncle Rover?’ said Messi.
He was running right beside his uncle.
‘We’re taking a short cut,’ said Rover.
‘Hmmmmm,’ said Messi.
Messi didn’t like short cuts. They were kind of messy and often dirty and sometimes they just looked like mistakes. Roads that hadn’t been finished, holes in walls that hadn’t been built properly, mucky tracks across lovely green grass.
‘Yeah,’ said Rover. ‘We’re going to crawl under this hedge here and then run across a couple of fields.’
‘Hmmmmmmm,’ said Messi.
‘And I don’t want to hear any objections,’ said Rover. ‘We have to catch that baby. OK?’
‘OK,’ said Messi.
He followed his uncle under the hedge.
‘Do we have time to trim it, Uncle Rover?’
‘Not this time, Messi, no,’ said Rover.
‘There’s a plastic bag in the hedge, Uncle Rover,’ said Messi. ‘Will I bring it?’
‘Why?’
‘To pick up the poo.’
‘What poo?’ Rover asked.
‘The poo you’re standing in, Uncle Rover.’
Rover looked down. He had climbed out from under the hedge and he was standing in a field near some cows. In fact, he was standing in the middle of a big cow-poo pancake.
‘Brilliant,’ said Rover.
He meant it.
‘So, Messi,’ he said. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘We collect the poo while we go after the baby,’ said Messi.
Messi had been on rescue missions with Rover before. They always ended up charging around the world. Messi was a well-travelled little dog.
‘International poos of the world,’ said Messi.
Rover said it again. ‘Brilliant.’
‘And we’ll start with this Irish cow poo,’ said Messi. ‘After you step out of it, that is.’
‘You’re a bit of a genius, Messi,’ said Rover.
‘I don’t like bits,’ said Messi.
‘You’re a whole genius then,’ said Rover.
Messi could feel his tail going fizzy.
‘Nappies!’ he shouted.
Chapter Eighteen
Meanwhile – it’s that word again:
Meanwhile, Billie Jean and Mister Mack were searching in all the gardens – up trees, under bushes, on top of bird tables – for the BFB.
Meanwhile, Robbie was cycling after the white van, and the white van had nearly reached the airport.
Meanwhile, the BFB’s mother, Miriam Bigge-Mack, was also cycling to the airport. So was Robbie’s brother, Jimmy.
Meanwhile, a hand went into the handbag. The owner of the bag was sitting upstairs on the 39A bus. She put her hand into her bag to take out her phone. But, instead, she took out . . .
‘Emily!’
‘Goop!’ said the BFB.
REMINDER: The BFB is still called Emily.
‘What are you doing in my bag?’ asked Kayla Mack.
‘Goop,’ said the BFB.
‘You weren’t in there earlier,’ said Kayla.
‘Goop,’ the BFB agreed.
‘How’s life?’
‘Goop.’
‘Cool,’ said Kayla. ‘Here, sit up on my lap and you can look out the window.’
Kayla was eighteen but she remembered when she was a baby. The two things she’d liked most as a child were looking out of bus windows and jumping out of windows – but never jumping out of bus windows.
So Kayla cuddled the BFB as they both looked out the window at all the houses and people and white vans. Kayla was the BFB’s dad’s sister. So that made her the BFB’s aunt. She liked being an aunt and the BFB was her favourite niece. She was also her only niece.
‘Where’s your dad?’ she asked.
‘Goop.’
‘Where’s your mam?’
‘Goop.’
‘Where’s Granny Billie Jean?’
‘Goop.’
‘And Granddad?’
‘Goop,’ said the BFB.
Kayla was searching for her phone in her bag.
The last time she’d seen the BFB, she’d been in the kitchen with Kayla’s mother, Billie Jean. So she was going to phone Billie Jean, to tell her that the BFB had crawled into her bag. Kayla knew that her mother would be searching for the missing baby. She’d be worried and wondering where she was. Kayla would phone her now and tell her.
But she couldn’t find the phone.
It wasn’t in her bag.
Kayla liked her phone but she didn’t like it that much. She didn’t carry it everywhere. When she wanted to know what the weather was like, she didn’t google ‘Dublin weather’. She looked out the window and saw the rain. She often forgot her phone – sometimes on purpose. You could be really sarcastic when you didn’t have a phone.
‘Oh my God! Do you not, like, have a phone?’
‘Oh my God, yeah. But it’s, like, invisible.’
The Last Bit of Chapter Eighteen
So, Kayla wasn’t able to phone Billie Jean because she’d left her phone on top of her bed at home.
Now she had a nice idea.
‘Do you want to come to college with me?’ she asked the BFB.
‘Goop,’ said the BFB.
‘Cool,’ said Kayla. ‘Let’s count the red cars.’
‘Goop?’
‘No, the red ones.’
Kayla would phone Billie Jean when she got off the bus at the college.
Kayla had just started college. She loved it. She was studying maths and sarcasm at BBFOSID – Big Building Full Of Students In Dublin.
Chapter Nineteen
Sometimes short cuts just aren’t enough. Rover and Messi made it to the airport at the same time that Robbie and Miriam got there.
They found a car park full of white vans.
Empty white vans.
Hundreds of them.
But then they saw one parked near a white plane. A white plane which was starting to move.
‘Oh, no!’
It moved slowly down the runway.
‘Oh, no!’
Then faster.
‘Woof!’
And faster.
‘Oh, no!’
They watched the plane climb slowly up and up, into the air.
‘Oh, no, no, no, no!’
They cycled and ran across to the white van.
‘Excuse me,’ said Miriam. ‘Was there a baby in your van?’
‘What?’ said the driver. ‘Are you mad? I’d never bring the baby to work.’
‘What baby?’
‘My baby,’ said the driver.
‘But was there a baby in the van when you were loading the things on to the plane?’
‘No,’ said the driver.
‘Are you sure?’ Robbie asked him.
‘. . . No,’ said the driver.
‘Where’s the plane going?’
‘Casablanca,’ said the driver.
‘Where’s that?’ Miriam asked.
Messi knew the answer.
‘Morocco,’ said the driver.
Messi fell over.
IMPORTANT INFORMATION
Remember: this was not the first time the BFB had gone off on an adventure. Here are some of the places she’d gone to before:
the back garden;
the front garden;
the wine-shop window;
the butcher’s window;
on top of the ice-cream machine in the Spar;
Galway;
the press under the sink in the kitchen;
the little room under the stairs;
Sweden;
the attic;
the next-door
neighbour’s shed;
under Kayla’s bed;
Japan.
Chapter Twenty
It took Kayla a while to learn how to use the phone. It was on a wall and you had to put money into it. Eventually, with the BFB’s help – ‘Goop!’ – she was able to use it.
But then she couldn’t remember Granny Billie Jean’s number.
But the BFB did.
‘Goop goop goop, goop, goop goop, goop goop goop goop.’
‘Cool,’ said Kayla. ‘Thanks.’
The phone rang and rang.
‘Why doesn’t she answer?’
Then Kayla heard her mother’s message.
Hi – I’m not able to answer right now . . . Obviously – ha ha ha ha.
‘That’s, like, so embarrassing,’ said Kayla.
The BFB didn’t agree.
‘Goop,’ she said.
Just leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Promise!
‘Hi,’ said Kayla. ‘It’s me – your daughter. Emily is with me. She crawled into my bag. Again. Anyway, she’s fine. Say hi, Emily.’
‘Goop!’
‘See you later,’ said Kayla. ‘We’re going to a class now. Bye – I suppose.’
She put the thing you speak into on top of the other thing.
‘They’re kind of cool, aren’t they?’ she said. ‘Old phones, like?’
‘Goop!’ the BFB agreed.
‘Right,’ said Kayla. ‘Sarcasm for Beginners. Does that sound good, Emily?’
‘Goop!’
Chapter Twenty-One
Robbie Remembers
Kids know lots of things. But adults think kids are stupid.
Excuse me – we do not.
Who’s that?
I’m an adult.
OK.
A very important adult, actually.
OK. This is how it is. Adults love their kids. They think kids are sweet, lovely, charming, brainy, funny and wonderful. Am I right?
Well, mine are.
But they also think that kids know nothing. That kids are small and their heads are small, so there’s no room for important things in those small heads. That is what adults think. But this is a big, big mistake. Because kids know a lot. In fact, kids know all the things that are worth knowing.
Here are just some of the things that kids know:
eating fish is stupid;
holes in the ground are interesting;
worms are cool;
mice are cool and not cool at the exact same time;
shoelaces are stupid;
dogs can talk.
But, as they grow up and get older, kids forget most of these things. They eat fish. They walk straight past holes without looking in them. And they never, ever think that the voice speaking behind them might belong to a dog.
But Robbie remembered.
‘Rover,’ he said.
Rover barked.
‘Listen, Rover,’ said Robbie. ‘I know you can talk.’
Rover barked.
‘I remember it, Rover,’ said Robbie.
He leaned down and patted Rover’s head.
‘Who’s a good dog?’ he asked.
‘Me,’ said Rover.
‘You admit that you can talk?’ said Robbie.
‘OK,’ said Rover. ‘Yeah.’
‘Me too,’ said Messi.
Robbie patted Messi.
‘Tea-bags in the sink!’ Messi shouted, and he didn’t fall over.
‘We have to catch up with that plane,’ said Robbie. ‘We need a short cut to Morocco.’
‘No problem,’ said Rover. ‘Follow me.’
‘And me,’ said Messi.
Rover and Messi ran across the airport runway, to a big patch of grass.
Anybody who has ever looked out of a plane window while it’s on the runway will know that rabbits love airports. Look out of a plane window and you will see a rabbit sitting in the grass looking back at you. You will probably see more rabbits than you’ve ever seen before. The rabbits don’t really live in the airport. They live under the airport. Under every airport there are burrows and tunnels that are as big as cities.
And this is the brilliant bit. There are so many airports all over the world, so close to each other, that all of the rabbit burrows and tunnels have joined up to become one huge rabbit city. It is actually quicker to go from Dublin to Paris through the rabbit burrows than it is to fly. But only the rabbits know this.
And one Irish dog.
Hmmmmmmm.
Two Irish dogs.
The Dublin Airport rabbits saw Rover running at them. Rabbits usually don’t like dogs, but they liked Rover. Because he paid them to use their tunnels. So they didn’t run or hide. They just stood out of the way and let Rover go past them.
‘How’s it going, lads?’ Rover asked as he ran past the rabbits.
‘Groovy,’ said one of the rabbits.
Rabbits can talk but they only use three words. One of them is ‘groovy’ and other two are ‘not so’.
‘It might rain later,’ said Rover.
‘Not so groovy,’ said the rabbit.
There was a small bush in front of Rover. Three rabbits pulled back the bush and there, right in front of Rover, was a huge hole. He ran straight into it, followed by Messi, followed by Miriam on her bike, followed by Robbie on his dad’s bike, and followed by his brother, Jimmy, who had just arrived, on his bike.
A little boy was sitting in the window seat, looking out of the window, waiting for his plane to take off.
‘Daddy,’ he said. ‘Two doggies and two mans and a lady and twee bi-clickles just fell down a hole.’
‘Yes, Cormac.’
‘Did.’
‘I know.’
By the time the boy’s dad looked out of the window, the rabbits had dropped the bush back on top of the hole. Rover and the rest were well on their way to Casablanca.
Excuse me . . .
Yes?
They’re going to Casablanca to find the BFB?
Yes, they are.
But she isn’t there. She’s with Kayla. So it’s a waste of time, isn’t it?
No. It isn’t. It seems like it is, but it isn’t. Their timing will have to
be perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Education
While Rover and the others ran underground to Morocco, Kayla sat in a classroom with the BFB on her knee.
‘Oh,’ said one of the other students. ‘Is that your baby?’
‘No,’ said Kayla. ‘It’s my granny.’
‘That was excellent work, Kayla,’ said the sarcasm teacher. ‘A top-class smart answer. I hope you were all listening.’
The teacher’s name was Dr Holly Notte-Lykely. She was one of the world’s greatest experts on smart answers.
‘Now, Kayla,’ said Dr Notte-Lykely. ‘Will you, please, pass the baby on to the next student.’
The next student was a young man called Kevin. Kayla put the BFB on his knee. The BFB looked very happy there. She looked up at Kevin, pulled his beard and laughed.
‘Now,’ said Dr Notte-Lykely. ‘Somebody ask Kevin the question.’
‘Oh, Kevin,’ said Kayla. ‘Is that your baby?’
‘Eh – no,’ said Kevin.
‘That wasn’t very sarcastic,’ said Dr Notte-Lykely.
‘Goop,’ the BFB agreed.
‘Eh,’ said Kevin. ‘I think I’m after making a mistake. I don’t think I should be here. I thought, like, sarcasm was about rock climbing.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ said Kevin, very sarcastically. ‘As if.’
He had fooled all of the others in the room.
‘Excellent,’ said Dr Notte-Lykely. ‘Let’s hear a big clap for Kevin – not! Pass the baby.’
‘Goop,’ said the BFB.
She was having a great time.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Gigglers were still hiding behind the wall. But now they were waiting for a different grown-up. They were going to give the Treatment to a swimming teacher who kept telling a little boy that he swam like a bag of cement.