Uncle Shawn and Bill and the Not One Tiny Bit Lovey-Dovey Moon Adventure

by A. L. Kennedy

  And while none of his friends noticed, Bill raced away to find his perfect badger.

  SECTION SIX

  In which we can wish that everyone will stay safe, but our wish might not work. Maybe there is something wrong with wishing just now. I didn’t get breakfast in bed even though I wished for it very hard. At least our old friend Claude the spider is still very brave and still wants to look after everyone he knows. Then again, he is only a very tiny spider…

  That evening, after all his exhausting worrying Brian was tired enough to be dreaming as soon as his head hit his straw pillow. Although he was really very brave, he often forgot it. In his llama barn, his friend Claude had promised that he would be very fierce if any monsters arrived in the dark. He was only a tiny spider, but they both knew he would do his best. Brian snuggled into his bed, surrounded by his crash helmets and life jackets and knee pads and all the things he hoped would make his life safer.

  As soon as Uncle Shawn was home, he sat in his big armchair and called, “Well now, Bill, it is time for us to have our cocoa and go outside and look at the sunset. What a very nice day we have had. I wonder what we will do tomorrow that will be even better?”

  But nobody answered. And when Uncle Shawn went into the kitchen there was no sign of Bill. And when he saw the burned milk in the pan and the dirty spoons and the spilled cocoa he realised that the twins must have made their own bedtime drinks, because Bill would never have left so much mess – he was a neat and tidy badger.

  Uncle Shawn tried calling, “Hello, hello! Bill, where are you?” He looked everywhere. He even searched in all the cupboards and looked up in the attic. But Bill wasn’t there! Even though it was very late, Bill wasn’t anywhere in the farmhouse!

  “Oh, my goodness, where has he gone? I can’t do without my best friend. What if he has got lost, or fallen and banged his knee and had to walk very slowly so that he isn’t here yet?”

  Uncle Shawn ran out to see if Bill was already in his rocking chair, waiting for the sunset. As he ran, he thought the farm seemed very big and empty and whistly without Bill. Over on the west side of the farmhouse were the two rocking chairs – a big human one and a little badger one. But Bill wasn’t sitting in either of them!

  Uncle Shawn didn’t know what to do. “Oh dear. I wished that everything would be just right and my wish hasn’t worked. That almost never happens. And where is Bill? Shall I wake up everybody and get torches and search the hedges? Shall I go to Pandrumdroochit and fetch Constable McNabb? Shall I call the fire station and get all the firefighters to search up high with their ladders and down low with their ropes?”

  Meanwhile, down at Shoogeldy Bay something highly unexpected was taking place. If Uncle Shawn could see it he would be sure to wish that it wasn’t happening.

  But nobody’s wishes seem to be working any more…

  SECTION SEVEN

  In which— oh goodness me, it’s just too frightening for me to even describe any of it. I’ll go away and have a mug of cocoa. Maybe hold a kitten, or a picture of a kitten, or a comfy blanket while you read this bit.

  Down in Shoogeldy Bay innocent waves were patting the happy sand. The very big, bright moon was shining down peacefully. It was the third week of the full moon – which never usually happens.

  But then – oh, dearie, dearie me – something began to appear out of the water.

  Beyond the sunbathing rock (which was now a moonbathing rock) a pale shape was bobbing in the waves. It was round and looked like a great big egg. The egg seemed very determined and was moving quickly towards the rock.

  When it arrived at the part of the rock where there were lots of footholds and handholds for people to climb, the egg rose up out of the water and – OH NO – it had a face!

  It had staring, bulging eyes and a pointy nose and its mouth was strange and squishy. If you had taken one look at it, you would have screamed. Because it wasn’t an egg at all – it was the big bald bitter head of a man! And, slowly and sneakily, the owner of that head oozed up onto the rock. If you had been brave enough to peek through your fingers at him, you would have seen his very white, skinny shins and his long yellow toenails and his strong, wiry arms that were the colour of unhealthy mushrooms. You would also have seen that he was wearing nothing except old, grey underpants and an old, grey vest.

  And then you would have watched the man punch the air with his fists and jump up and down higher and faster than those famous and high-leaping acrobats, the Big Bavarian Bouncing Badgers.

  But he wasn’t jumping up and down because he was happy, or because he was trying to entertain a crowd of excited young badgers. No. The man was jumping because he was angrier than a thousand wasps who have been promised jam for dinner and have been served gravel instead. The man was so furious he would have frightened a dinosaur – even a huge one with lots of beautiful scales and kind friends who made it feel confident about itself.

  The man glowered and shook his fists so fast they were just a smear of rage in the moonlight. Then he yelled, in a cold, slidey, creepy, cruel voice, “I’WOO EGGOO UGGLESHAWN!”

  The man had no teeth, so it was difficult to understand him as he yelled, crosser than crosswords.

  The noise woke up some seahorses who had been dozing in the shelter of the rock. They listened and then – oh dear – they worked out what the man was saying.

  And it was…

  “I’LL GET YOU UNCLE SHAWN! I’LL GET YOU AND YOUR STUPID LLAMA FRIENDS! I’LL GET THAT FAT, SILLY BADGER AND THOSE TWO PECULIAR TWINS! I’LL RUIN EVERYTHING YOU LOVE AND THEN I WILL GET YOU SO THAT YOU ARE MORE GOT THAN ANYONE HAS EVER BEEN GOT IN THE HISTORY OF GETTING!”

  He had to stop for a minute after that, because he was out of breath. But then:

  “I MILL HABEYE WEWENGE!”

  You would have been terrified by the way he screamed this, even though it sounded like a very loud baby chewing a rubber toy.

  What the man was trying to say was actually: “I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!”

  Then the man delicately brushed the tiny fragments of sand and seaweed from his feet (of which he was very proud), jumped off the rock and started to swim towards the shore, going quicker than the smell of bad sandwiches on a bus.

  SECTION EIGHT

  In which— Oh, but where has Bill gone? I do wish that he’s safe and well, wherever he is.

  While horrifying things were happening at Shoogeldy Bay, inside Brian’s barn Claude the spider had woven a big sign that said:

  But, of course, Brian was asleep and couldn’t read it.

  So Claude tried shouting, “Brian! Brian! Something is wrong!” Spiders have very quiet voices because of being so small and Brian didn’t hear. “Oh, I wish I was louder,” said Claude, but his wish didn’t work. So Claude rolled up the silk in his message to use again later and set off to find out more about what might be wrong. He wasn’t walking to the moon, just to the farmhouse, but that’s a very long way when you have teeny spider legs.

  Inside the farmhouse Uncle Shawn had woken Sam and Sky and they were about to go to the llamas’ barns to wake them up so they could all look for Bill. They could cover the distance more quickly than a spider because they had longer legs (especially Uncle Shawn).

  As Uncle Shawn and the twins headed away from the farmhouse and Claude headed towards it, Guinevere and Carlos were in their llama barn. They were lolling in their hammocks, snoozling and snarzling. Uncle Shawn and the twins tiptoed inside the barn and then shouted a lot to try to rouse them. But they shouted quite quietly, because it seemed a shame to wake them when their long llama faces looked so happy. (They were both dreaming about biting each other.)

  When Uncle Shawn and the twins reached the next barn, they found Ginalolobrigida had put a sign on her door which said:

  “Goodness me,” said Uncle Shawn. “I’m hoping this isn’t a terrible emergencia…” He rubbed his wiggly hair to make himself feel better, but it was lying down very flat on the top of his head as if it were worried too. “I su
ppose I should just start yelling Emergencia as loudly as I can, the way the llamas do when they are having a Spanish emergency. That would wake everyone for sure.”

  But just then Uncle Shawn heard a wonderful soft thumping sound that was getting closer. It was just the nicest thumping he had heard all day: it was the unmistakable sound of Badger Bill’s very own badger feet.

  Uncle Shawn wriggled and jiggled and started doing the special dance he had invented called Best Friends. Then he spun round and put out his arms for a great big hug.

  But then…

  No hug.

  No badger friend joining in with the dancing.

  No, “Hello Uncle Shawn, I’m sorry that I came in late and made everyone wonder if I had been eaten by a lion, or kidnapped by pirates who forgot to leave a note.”

  Bill was just a badger-coloured streak of movement that pelted past Uncle Shawn, heading for the farmhouse.

  “Bill,” called Uncle Shawn to the speeding badger. “Where have you been?”

  “Can’t stop. I have important things to do,” Bill’s voice called back.

  Uncle Shawn stood with his hands in his pockets and frowned. “Hmmm. Something has happened to my friend. I do hope it is a good thing, but I wonder…”

  SECTION NINE

  In which we learn about the dangers of shopping online when you are in love. Especially if you are a badger in love.

  Upstairs in his bedroom, Bill was tired, too tired to tell Uncle Shawn anything. And he was much too in love to think about anybody apart from HER. Her charming furry knees, the feminine tilt of her ears…

  Bill was covered in earth and bits of leaves, and he was making his neat quilt with its pictures of badger explorers very messy, but he didn’t care. He was IN LOVE. WITH HER.

  The lady badger had run deep into the woods and Bill had tried to keep up, but somehow he hadn’t quite managed. As it got darker and darker, branches had started to slap Bill on the nose and he tripped over tree roots and bruised his shapely badger knees. But he just couldn’t find her.

  In the end Bill had simply sat down on a tree stump and cried.

  But just when he was despairing, he had heard a delicate and ladylike badger voice crooning, “Remember me… I know we will meet again…”

  Lying on his bed, Bill could still hear those velvety tones. “Remember me, Badger Bill…” the voice had said.

  If he hadn’t been so exhausted he would have done his happy dance – spoof-spiff-splaff-spuff – and wiggled his tail in time to the beat.

  If he hadn’t been so much in love, he might have wondered how this peculiar badger covered in ruffles had managed to find out his name.

  Bill began to imagine all the wonderful things he would do with this magnificent and kind new badger once they had met. Because of being in love they were bound to have much more fun than he did with the llamas, or the twins, or even Uncle Shawn. Bill felt a bit strange when he thought of spending less time with Uncle Shawn, listening to jokes and laughing and eating toasted cheese…

  But surely the most perfect badger in the world would tell the most perfect jokes and make the best toasted cheese ever. Life was going to be fantastic and they would play and swim and hold hands and pick wildflowers.

  Wildflowers! Of course!

  Bill went to his little desk, turned on his Big Badger Supply Company computer and went online, even though he wasn’t supposed to use his computer late at night because its glary light stopped him sleeping. But he wasn’t going to sleep anyway – he was too in love!

  He quickly spent all of his pocket money on a pink bow tie and a pink straw hat and a half pint bottle of Essence of Meadow perfume. It said on the label:

  Badgers courting and in love

  Can give their romances a shove

  With meadow smells and flowery pongs

  Sweeter than chocs or soppy songs.

  He was going to smell of wildflowers at all times. “I bet girl badgers would like that,” Bill thought. “And it would help the finest girl badger in the world to like me.”

  Bill paid a little bit extra to the Big Badger Supply Company for everything to arrive As Soon As Possible, because romance is all about being in a great big rush.

  When he had finished ordering, Bill smiled. “I will be dashingly handsome in my bow tie. My straw hat will make me look like a cowboy, or an international badger superspy like Quentin Hudrock (licensed to stare), who finally discovered where socks go when they sneak out of washing machines at night. Everything I wear will be pink, because that must be her favourite colour. It might give me a bit of a headache, but I won’t care. Oh, I do hope she likes me as much as I like her.” He sighed a sigh so powerful that his windows rattled and he blew his poster of Quentin Hudrock in the film Plimsolls Are Forever right off the wall.

  “I bet I’m more in love than any badger has ever been,” Bill told himself, and his heart felt enormous and then tiny and then full of glitter. “I wish, I wish, I wish that we will be happy ever after. This is going to be great.”

  SECTION TEN

  In which we find out more about that terrible shouty person who climbed out of the sea. I hope he isn’t a dreadful villain who is planning to do horrible things, or a criminal wanted in every country on Earth.

  And there are teeth!

  And while everyone else was asleep, what was happening in amongst the trees of Shoogeldy Wood?

  Are you sure you want to know? Really sure? Because I don’t really want to have to describe it. It’s something quite horrible.

  It is a very important (and very terrifying) part of the story though, so everyone should know about it. But maybe you should read it while you hold someone’s hand. As long as you can find someone who isn’t busy making hats, or doing long sums, or combing a lion, or doing any of the other strange things that human beings do.

  Miranda Badger, you will remember, was not at all as lovely as she pretended to be. She was the kind of badger who would put a hedgehog into a biscuit tin, as soon as she had kidnapped a hedgehog and eaten all the biscuits in the tin, shoving them into her mouth with both fists and letting dribble ooze down her chin. When she ran away from Bill and into the trees of Shoogeldy Wood, she knew that would make him want to speak to her even more than he already did. But she didn’t go into the woods just to torment Bill. She was also meeting someone…

  In a damp-smelling clearing Miranda called, “Hello? Hello?”

  “Ow!” said a patch of darkness in a smiley sneaky voice. “That was my foot! You know I have precious and beautiful feet. I could have had a career as a sock model! And you’ve trampled through the undergrowth like a brass band. This is supposed to be a secret meeting!”

  “You’re the one shouting!” snapped Miranda. And she turned on the torch she kept in the frilly pink pocket of her frilly pink nightmare dress.

  In the torchlight she saw something that made even her tiny, gristly heart shudder. Hopping round and round, holding one of his big, bare feet, was a pale, bald man wearing a pair of trousers that were much too short for him and a tiny flowery blouse.

  Oh no! It was that angry, shouty man who climbed out of the sea earlier!

  When the man stopped hopping and turned to face Miranda, she could see his raging eyes that seemed very keen to leave his head (as anything sensible would be), and his cruel nose that didn’t enjoy smelling anything, and his growling lips that didn’t enjoy saying anything – and teeth that suddenly popped straight out of his mouth so that he had to catch them quickly, fighting to get a grip on their slithery, slippery surfaces.

  “Nggn! Eez eff!” He growled and shoved the teeth back in again, although they didn’t fit him at all and seemed to belong to a much bigger person who might actually be a horse. “Nggn! These teeth. I found them in a bin and they’re terrible!”

  He had indeed found them in a bin at the back of the Pandrumdroochit Horse Hospital, which might explain a lot.

  The man ground his big gnashers and then yelled, “And why is the po
stman so short? I had to steal his trousers and they don’t fit at all!”

  He had indeed slithered into the postman’s garden and stolen his trousers off the line. Jemima the postman’s cat had seen him, but she was a little bit too large and sleepy to do anything about it.

  “I’m not sure if that blouse suits you. The pussy-bow is a bit out of date,” sniggered Miranda.

  “It was all I could find! There was nothing to steal on anybody’s washing line. I had to wait until an old lady went swimming and steal her blouse from where she left it. Stop laughing. Otherwise I shall hypnotise you to think you’re a nursery school teacher and you’ll have to spend hours and hours every day being nice to tiny children and reading them stories.” The man grinned with his alarming teeth and it seemed that they might pop out at Miranda and bite her nose, or just slide down her face, leaving a big trail of furious saliva.

  Miranda shuddered. She couldn’t look at a small child without wanting to make it cry and tell it stories about people getting eaten by the wolves that live under their beds. (Which aren’t true – there are no wolves under your bed. The Bed Goblins would eat them.)

  The man shouted, “This is all Uncle Shawn’s fault. I used to have trousers that fitted and underpants that weren’t full of sand. I was rich and powerful and I could make as many people unhappy as I wanted to and he spoiled everything!” He stamped his bare feet and immediately regretted it, because he trod on some nettles and they woke up and stung him. “Aggghh! Have you at least made that disgusting, fat badger fall in love with you?”