The Great Dodo Comeback

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The Great Dodo Comeback Page 7

by Fiona Sandiford


  “Er, yes,” coughed Pauline gruffly. “Man flu.”

  “Man flu?” repeated the professor, not sure she’d heard her right.

  “Um, uh, I mean it’s a cold,” replied Pauline. “It just makes my voice seem all, er, manly…”

  There was something odd about these two, and Professor Scissorson couldn’t quite work out what it was, but she noticed that Shirley didn’t seem to know how to put together a vacuum cleaner. She grappled with it bare-fisted, as if she were fighting a dancing octopus. Then she gave up and attempted to iron the bed sheets, which were still on the bed.

  Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Pauline was using the toilet brush to clean the bath and the professor’s toothbrush to clean the toilet. She emerged a few minutes later, took a feather duster and proceeded to dust all the items in the fridge with it, including the salad.

  “Please be careful not to touch my lab equipment, okay?” said the professor.

  “Right you are, Prof,” grinned Shirley. She was attempting to clean the sofa using a mop.

  Professor Scissorson was right to be suspicious. For the “supply cleaners” who had arrived at hut 603 that morning were not really cleaners at all. They were, in fact, Pawpaw and Beanbag, disguised in cleaners’ uniforms and wearing make-up.

  The henchmen had hijacked Marion and Mimi’s housekeeping buggy at the top of the road. Right now, the poor cleaners were sitting under a tree not too far away, with their hands tied and their mouths gagged.

  The professor thought the new cleaners had some unusual working methods, but she had important work to get on with herself, so she left them to it and sat down at her computer.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Pawpaw grabbed Beanbag’s arm. “There’s no time to lose!” he urged. “Now what was the name of that pigeon again? Lorna? Linda? Leonard?”

  Beanbag tucked his cleaning cloth into his apron pocket.

  “Lionel,” he said.

  They checked out the loft where the pink pigeons were nesting.

  “But the professor’s still here,” Beanbag said out of the corner of his mouth. “How can we distract her?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something,” whispered Pawpaw.

  “Oh my word, this cold!” he shrilled in his Pauline voice. “My nose is streaming. I’m so sorry, Professor, but do you have any tissues?” He sniffed loudly.

  “Of course,” said Professor Scissorson, getting up. “They’re in the bathroom.”

  While she was out of the room, Pawpaw and Beanbag tiptoed over to the pigeon loft.

  “Which of you is Lionel?” whispered Pawpaw desperately. He scanned the names on the compartments: Judy, Martha, Ingrid, Loretta, Kevin, Ozzy, Lionel.

  “Lionel! This is the one,” he said. “I’ll lift up his belly, you grab the egg. Okay?”

  Pawpaw gently prised up the pigeon’s underbelly, and sure enough, the little egg was tucked in there.

  Cautiously, Beanbag went to take it. But Lionel pecked him sharply on the wrist.

  “Ooooww,” howled Beanbag. “Dratted pigeon!”

  “What’s that?” called Professor Scissorson from the bathroom.

  “Oh, nothing!” called Pawpaw in his falsetto voice. “It’s just that my runny nose has…splatted…a smidgeon…on the floor. I’ll clean it up straight away.”

  Pawpaw held Lionel’s beak while Beanbag gently picked up the egg. He wrapped it carefully in his dusting cloth and placed it in his apron pocket, managing not to break it in the process.

  No sooner had he popped it in its hiding place than Professor Scissorson was back. “Here you are, Pauline,” she said, passing Pawpaw a box of tissues.

  “Thanks,” he said and immediately took one out, stuck his nose into it and blew so hard it almost made his earrings fall off. “Well, we’re done here,” he smiled. “We’d better be going.”

  “Already?” said the professor, surprised.

  “My doctor told me not to overdo it, you know,” said Pawpaw hurriedly, waving the used tissue uselessly. “I shouldn’t really be working at all with this cold, but we didn’t want to let you down.”

  The two bogus cleaners made their way out, dragging the vacuum cleaner and mop behind them. They couldn’t get to their buggy fast enough. After dumping their gear in the back, they leaped straight into the front. They were just about to take off when they were cut short.

  “Ladies!” called Professor Scissorson from the front deck. “Hold on just a moment!”

  The impostors looked at each other through their fake eyelashes in dread. Had they been rumbled?

  “Uh, yes, Prof?” said Beanbag in his sweetest Shirley voice.

  There was a pause. “You left this behind,” said Professor Scissorson. She walked up to the buggy and handed Beanbag the feather duster.

  “Oh, silly us!” giggled Beanbag. He took the duster from the professor and threw it over his shoulder into the back.

  “And I hope your cold clears up soon, Pauline,” Professor Scissorson said to Pawpaw politely.

  “Thank you,” he sniffed. “Goodbye!”

  Pawpaw pressed his foot on the accelerator pedal and they were off. Not exactly at breakneck pace, but they were off nonetheless. And with the precious dodo egg safely cradled in Beanbag’s apron, the dirty duo made a clean getaway.

  As the cleaners were leaving, Leni looked down from her tree house. She noticed something strange about the way they walked back to their buggy. The shorter one waddled like a baby duck while the taller one hulked along like an emperor penguin.

  She climbed down and made her way to Professor Scissorson’s hut. Popcorn followed and perched on the deck.

  “Hi, Leni,” the professor said, watching the cleaners drive away. “Hmm, there was definitely something odd about those ladies,” she remarked. “Did your mum and dad say there would be supply cleaners here today?”

  “I don’t remember them mentioning it,” said Leni.

  “Well it wasn’t Marion and Mimi,” replied Professor Scissorson. “It’s a shame. Those two weren’t nearly as thorough. And they left without doing his hut,” she added, nodding towards number 187.

  “Talking of Professor Flowers, where is he?” asked Leni.

  “No idea. I’ve not seen him at all this morning,” Professor Scissorson replied.

  “Maybe he’s gone for a swim in the lagoon,” suggested Leni.

  “Maybe,” said Professor Scissorson. They both looked out but there was no sign of the English professor in the dazzling, peacock-blue water.

  Leni sighed. “How is the egg today?” she asked. “And the pigeons?”

  Professor Scissorson smiled. “Let’s go and have a look, shall we?” she said.

  They went into the hut and the professor headed straight to Lionel’s cubbyhole. She gently lifted the pigeon’s underbelly to check.

  “My egg!” she shrieked. “It’s gone!”

  “What?” said Leni, thinking the professor must be mistaken. She craned her neck to examine the roosting spot.

  Professor Scissorson rummaged around underneath Lionel’s feathered belly, but still, no egg.

  Panicking, she desperately checked under all the other pigeons’ bellies, and the sleeping ones cooed abruptly at the disturbance.

  “It can’t have just vanished. That’s impossible,” she cried. Sweat was starting to appear on her forehead.

  “Impossible! Impossible!” screeched Popcorn.

  “Shhhhh,” Leni urged him.

  “My dodo egg!” the professor screamed, grasping her hair. “My dodo egg! Where is it?”

  But Lionel just sat there, as if nothing was wrong.

  “Let’s think about this logically,” said Leni. “Could anybody have stolen it?”

  There was silence for a moment, and then the professor’s eyes went owly as a terrible thought occurred to her.

  “Flowers,” she seethed under her breath.

  Leni shook her head. “No, no, I don’t think…”

  “It can only have
been Flowers,” she fumed. “I knew it! That man has been plotting this the whole time. As soon as he knew I had an egg, he stole it from under my nose.”

  “Hold on a minute…” began Leni.

  “And now he’s disappeared!” continued Professor Scissorson. “He’s taken off with my egg.”

  “Just a…”

  “He can’t fool me. I’m on to him. It’s a low-down trick, but I’m…”

  “Life is sweet!” shrilled Popcorn.

  Professor Scissorson swung round to where he was perched on the back of a chair. “What?”

  “Life is sweet! Life is sweet!” repeated the bird, getting more and more worked up.

  “Life is sweet,” said Leni quietly to herself. They’d heard it on the radio, on the TV and it was plastered across every ad for Shoober Sugar. But why was Popcorn saying it now?

  And then, in a flash, Leni knew what he was trying so hard to tell them.

  “Professor Scissorson,” she said, doing her best to stay calm. “You said there was something odd about the cleaners today?”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, there was. They left greasy fingermarks on the mirror and…”

  “Maybe those supply cleaners weren’t supply cleaners at all,” said Leni.

  “What?” gulped Professor Scissorson.

  “I think I know who’s behind this,” Leni continued.

  “Who?” asked the professor.

  “Benny Shoober,” she answered gravely.

  “Shoober!” squawked Popcorn. He nodded his green head so fiercely Leni thought he might fall off the back of the chair.

  “Eh? Benny Shoo-who?” said Professor Scissorson, perplexed.

  “Shoober. S-H-O-O-B-E-R,” said Leni. “He’s a big sugar tycoon, owns lots of land on the island. And he hates birds. Especially rare ones. He thinks they get in the way of his greedy schemes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s heard about your dodo and sent his men here to steal the egg.”

  The professor was so agog, all she could manage was a faint-sounding, “Men?”

  “That’s right. Those two cleaners were no ladies. And if the Sugar King is up to no good,” added Leni, “we’re going to make sure he doesn’t get away with it.”

  Professor Scissorson had her head in her hands.

  “Don’t worry, Professor,” said Leni. “We’re going to get your egg back.”

  Questions started to swim around Leni’s mind like the fish darting through the coral reef in the lagoon nearby.

  But they had to get moving. “Professor Scissorson, I think I know where the egg is,” said Leni. “Got your car keys?”

  In an instant, Professor Scissorson grabbed her hat and keys, and they dashed to her jeep parked outside. Leni was still closing her passenger door as the professor sped off. She skidded, swerved and bounced over some very large potholes. Popcorn flew close behind them.

  “Benny Shoober is the most powerful sugar magnate in Mauritius and there are always rumours flying around about him,” Leni explained on the journey. “He has a bad reputation – he doesn’t pay his workers very well, and he is obsessed with buying up more and more land. He lives on a huge estate, in a mansion with gold-plated telephones, toilets and even toenail clippers. His wife, Giavanna, is the most pampered woman you could ever meet. She flies to Paris to buy perfume and has a shoe cupboard the size of an aircraft hangar.”

  “Well, if he’s taken my egg, he is in for a surprise,” said Professor Scissorson with determination. “Benny Shoober picked the wrong woman to mess with.”

  “And I don’t know what his henchmen have done with Marion and Mimi,” said Leni. “I just hope they’re safe.”

  “And Professor Flowers too,” added Professor Scissorson, biting her lip.

  Soon they came to the front gates of the Shoober estate. “What shall we do with the jeep?” asked Leni.

  “I’ll hide it in the bushes,” decided the professor, and she drove it headlong into some nearby undergrowth. After switching off the engine, the pair clambered out of the vehicle and through the tangled plants.

  “Let’s find a way in before someone sees us,” said the professor.

  There didn’t seem to be anyone about, and Leni was surprised that the front gates weren’t even locked.

  They crept along the sweeping front drive. “Is that him?” asked Professsor Scissorson, pointing to the large statue just in front of the entrance.

  “That’s him,” said Leni.

  “Bald as a coot, isn’t he?”

  The house was enormous and above the front door, they noticed the words “Chez Shoober” engraved in gold lettering.

  But Leni and Professor Scissorson made their way round to the back of the property by creeping among the shady trees and bushes which edged the gardens. That way, reckoned the professor, they’d be less likely to be spotted from inside.

  “Look at that,” said Leni, pointing at an ornamental fountain featuring a baby cupid standing by the side of a shallow pool.

  “My word,” said Professor Scissorson. “He looks like he’s doing…a…you know…”

  “A wee,” giggled Leni. “He looks like he’s doing a wee.”

  “Doing a wee!” sang out Popcorn.

  “Ssssh,” Leni giggled to the bird. Just then, she spotted a partially-open window on the ground floor, so she encouraged Popcorn to fly over and check the coast was clear. Then, they scurried across the lawn as fast as they could and clambered in through the window.

  The room smelled of flowers and there was a bunch of newly-cut blooms in a large glass vase on a table. There were Persian rugs and potted palms, a sparkling chandelier and shiny satin sofas with leopard-print cushions and gold tassels. They had climbed into the Shoobers’ drawing room.

  Leni tiptoed over to the door, listened closely for a moment, and then gently turned the gold handle to peep out into the hallway. She gave a thumbs-up sign and Professor Scissorson clomped across the wooden floorboards in her big boots. “Ssssh,” shushed Leni. “Someone might hear you.”

  They made their way into the large hallway, which boasted as its centrepiece a golden statue of Giavanna, in the image of a Roman goddess. Gold-framed photographs of the Shoobers hung on the walls. There was one of Benny playing golf, one of him scuba diving, one of him skiing, and another of him surfing. “Pffft, he’s got his wetsuit on the wrong way round,” snorted Professor Scissorson when she saw it.

  “Wrong way round!” squawked Popcorn. Leni gently grabbed his beak. “Sorry, Popcorn,” she whispered, “but you’ve got to stay quiet. You just have to. Please.” She let go and he seemed to get the message.

  “The egg must be here somewhere,” she went on, looking around. And then she smelled cigar smoke. It was coming from the other side of the hallway. Together, she and Professor Scissorson crept towards it, the whirring of ceiling fans the only thing that deadened the sound of their footsteps.

  Daring to peek through the open, oak-panelled door of the room, Leni saw that it was an office. There was a large desk with a fountain pen in a holder, a pile of books with “Success is Sweet” embossed on their spines, a gold-plated telephone and an ashtray. In it, the cigar was smouldering away.

  And then they both saw what they’d come for.

  “There it is,” Leni whispered. “Under the lamp.”

  Sure enough, resting in a little golden bowl of paperclips was the egg.

  The egg was sitting in the glare of the spotlight, like a nervous performer in a talent show.

  “That rotten thief!” fumed Professor Scissorson. And before Leni could stop her, she strode over to the desk. Her hand was poised over the egg, but just as she was about to grab it, the gold phone began to ring.

  “Riiiiiing, ring, riiiiiing, ring—”

  “Riii—” Popcorn started to mimic it, but Leni shot him a look which said “Don’t you dare”.

  Professor Scissorson froze to the spot, not knowing what to do as the phone rang on and on for what seemed like ages.

  Someo
ne would come in soon to answer it. Knowing they had no time to lose, Leni reached over and grasped the little white egg. It felt warm from the lamp’s heat.

  Then, the phone stopped ringing.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” whispered Leni.

  The professor jolted out of her daze. “Right-o,” she said, and they turned to make their getaway.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” snarled a voice. “Looks like we have some uninvited guests.”

  “And they’re making themselves right at home,” added his partner.

  Barricading the office doorway were Pawpaw and Beanbag.

  “What do you have there in your hand, little girl?” asked Pawpaw. He loomed over Leni like an eagle over a rabbit.

  “Leave her alone!” shouted Professor Scissorson. “What did you think you were playing at, ‘Pauline’? Coming to my hut and stealing my egg? How dare you!”

  “What do you mean, Pauline?” asked Pawpaw.

  “Don’t play dumb with me,” seethed the professor. “It’s written right there on your knuckles. Love cleaning and hate dirt, do you? Oh come on. And you, ‘Shirley’!” she spat at Beanbag. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Why, was my dusting not up to scratch?” asked Beanbag. He blinked rapidly and everyone stared at his fluttering eyelids. Pawpaw kicked him in the shins. That was it. They’d been rumbled.

  “You idiot!” Pawpaw snarled under his breath to his partner. “You’re still wearing your fake eyelashes.”

  Beanbag ripped them off so fast he howled out in pain.

  Leni stepped forward. “This is the professor’s egg, and you had no right to steal it,” she said, hoping they couldn’t hear her voice shaking. “We are taking back what is ours.”

  “I don’t think so, little girl,” said Pawpaw. “Give me the egg.”

  Just then, a furious ball of feathers hit him square in the face. It was Popcorn, and he began to peck wildly at Pawpaw’s nose, ears, anything he could reach.

  “Wretched bird, get off! Get off!” blundered Pawpaw.

 

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