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

by A. L. Kennedy

  “There’s no such thing,” said Sam.

  Sky nodded, although nobody saw it.

  “You’ll see. Get ready…” said Uncle Shawn, reaching out both his long arms and waggling them about. “And hold on to your hats.”

  “We don’t have any hats,” complained Sky.

  “And the moon is just the place to get them. Full of hats! Here we go!” And Uncle Shawn swung the lump in his hand back and forth. Everybody’s hair – even the hair on their arms and their knees – started to wriggle about and stand up. The big metal dish shuddered underneath them.

  “What’s happening?” asked Sam, grabbing hold of Uncle Shawn’s free hand.

  Uncle Shawn laughed and held the magnet up as high as his chin. When he did this, the iron dish lifted itself clean off the ground and began to float in the air. “We’re flying is what’s happening,” he said. He frowned a little bit. “I wish Bill could be here.” Then he laughed again. “But it will still be wonderful – just you wait. And we can tell him all about it and maybe draw pictures of the most exciting bits.”

  Then Uncle Shawn held the magnet up over his head, as high as he could reach with his lanky long arms. This made the soup dish lift higher and higher off the sand.

  “Oh, I don’t know if I like this…” said Sam quietly, and he felt Sky hold his hand.

  Sky giggled nervously. “Oh, Sam. Maybe, just maybe, I can be fixed.” She hugged her brother and they both waited with their knees shaking a tiny bit.

  Meanwhile, Uncle Shawn was looking very carefully at the moon. He tilted his head one way and then the other and then bent his knees a couple of times. The twins held their breath. And then Uncle Shawn swung his arms once, twice, three times and the dish bounced and biffed about until they felt quite queasy, before…

  Uncle Shawn threw the magnet just as hard as he could up into the hollow dark and towards the moon.

  As you know, magnets attract iron. And, as you know, Uncle Shawn’s magnet was the strongest in Scotland, so…

  “Ooooooaaaawough!” everyone yelled as the soup dish chased after the magnet, as fast as a dog chasing a stick. “Waaaagh!”

  The twins kept on yelling as the dish rose up high enough for Uncle Shawn to catch the magnet. The soup dish slowed right down again and Sam and Sky were worried that they would start falling, but then— “Ohnooooaaaah!” the twins screamed as Uncle Shawn threw the magnet again and the soup dish skooshed after it even faster than it had the first time and started to spin and spin.

  As you may have worked out, all the stories about flying saucers in Scotland started because of Uncle Shawn and his giant iron soup dish darting and spinning and bouncing about on his trips to the moon.

  “Wheee!” Uncle Shawn laughed. “Two friends and an excuse to go all the way up to the moon! Woo-hoo!” And he caught and threw and caught and threw the magnet, faster and faster.

  The stars whirled and wibbled around them and the soup dish started to sing gently because it was going so swiftly. Under their feet, the lights – of all the houses and towns and streets and trains and squirrels reading with torches under the leaves – spread out and made patterns. In the end the whole of Scotland was gleaming below them, and then many other places beyond that.

  Sam and Sky did think this was very exciting, but all of the stopping and starting and spinning was also making both the twins feel sick.

  Then they both were sick: “Bleaugh! Bleooogg! Hooowah! Hhhhwooofff!”

  Uncle Shawn had to be very quick to pick up Sky and hold her over the side of the soup dish. Then he put her down and caught the magnet and threw it towards the moon, then he picked up Sam and held him over the edge of the dish, then put him down and caught the magnet and picked up Sky again and… He was really busy for a while, making sure that none of the sick ended up in the soup dish. After all, it would be no fun whizzing about in a spinning soup dish full of vomit, even if you were getting an unexpected trip to the moon.

  And WOO and FFOO, on went the big metal dish, spinning and spinning.

  SECTION TWENTY

  In which Bill is still sleeping a nasty Speshul kind of sleep and there are some very unhappy llamas.

  The following morning in the farmhouse kitchen, Miranda was trying to be nice to the llamas. She was wearing a luminous orange gown covered in miniature orange cauliflowers and a pointy orange bonnet. She looked like a road cone on its way to a birthday party.

  “Good morning, my friends,” she chirped, smiling like an advert for evil dentures. “Good heavens! That’s grown!” She pointed at Ginalolobrigida’s spot with a flouncy orange parasol.

  Ginalolobrigida glowered at her and the other llamas did some of their best angry staring.

  Miranda just grinned back at them and whistled by sticking two fingers in her mouth and blowing very hard. This was unladylike and really loud.

  As if he had been waiting just outside for the PHWOO-EEEP sound, in walked a stranger carrying a leather bag and a big case that could have held an extra-large banjo. He was wearing a very neat pinstriped suit and shiny, shiny shoes that stung your eyes if you looked at them. His shirt was brilliantly white and his long, large moustache flopped over what seemed to be very big teeth. And on his head he wore a massive red hat covered in rainbow feathers and tiny mirrors and buttons. It was the most distracting hat you could imagine.

  It was a hat that could even distract four llamas who knew what Sylvester Pearlyclaws looked like. BUT IT WAS SYLVESTER PEARLYCLAWS AND INSIDE THAT BANJO CASE WERE HIS TERRIBLE SCISSORS!

  OH NOOO!

  “Hello,” he purred in his sneakiest voice. “How wonderful to meet such resourceful llamas. It’s such a shame that Uncle Shawn has run away and left you because he doesn’t care about you any more.” And he stared at the llamas with his hypnotising eyes so that they would begin to feel everything he told them was true.

  “No, that is not true,” said Brian. “He cares.”

  “Well where is he, then?” asked Pearlyclaws. Before anyone could answer he continued, “But have no fear – I, Sidney Smith, am here to help you. I am an expert in llama health and happiness.” He stopped as he caught sight of Ginalolobrigida’s nose. “Ah,” he said, and his big teeth showed in a strange, ginger-whiskery grin.

  “I am sure it is getting smaller,” lied Ginalolobrigida. “But I am not quite feeling myself.”

  Ginalolobrigida had always known that she looked as beautiful as she felt, but today, being examined by this strange Sidney, she was shy and a bit worried.

  Pearlyclaws slid up to her on his smooth and shiny shoes, set down his banjo case (which didn’t hold a banjo) and reached into his pocket, bringing out a pot of green ointment. “Behold! Llama nose improver. Dab this on the affected area first thing in the morning and last thing at night and you will find your nose begins to sparkle like a jewel.”

  Ginalolobrigida took the little pot and – even though it smelled a bit like ponds and bottoms – she decided to give it a try. “I wonder if he is the handsome stranger predicted by my horoscope,” she thought to herself. “He mentioned jewels…”

  “Well, llamas.” Pearlyclaws stroked his moustache – although really he was making sure it was still stuck to his top lip with Mucho Macho Moustache Glue. “Let’s get you outside into your barns. And do be careful, my dear, kind, intelligent llama friends.” And Pearlyclaws giggled as if he was full of a terrible secret. “I don’t want you to bang your noses…”

  “Please, Señor Smith, may you perhaps play us a tune on your banjo so that we can go to sleep tonight? We are very worried and I think maybe we might have nightmares,” said Brian.

  Pearlyclaws laughed a laugh that sounded like trolls in a basement hitting each other with fish. “Dear, dear, cowardly Brian. I don’t have a banjo in my case, but one day very soon – I promise you – I will show you the instrument I do have in there and then you will be able to sing as loud as you can.”

  As Pearlyclaws’ eyes glimmered strangely and his moustache waved at
them as if it wasn’t their friend, Brian and the other llamas scampered away to their barns as fast as they could. They were beginning to find the odd man who was calling himself Mr Smith a bit too scary.

  Oh, what will happen next? I don’t think I can bear to guess.

  SECTION TWENTY-ONE

  In which there is a spider. But a nice spider. And he is about to discover some horrifying news.

  At the farmhouse, Miranda was ticking items off a very long list. “Piano, sink, forty spoons, eight knives and sixteen jars of jam. We’ve taken almost everything.”

  For hours and hours after the llamas had left, Miranda and Pearlyclaws had been sneaking all the nice things out of the farmhouse using the back door – when they weren’t searching for secret treasure, just in case there was any. Most of the rooms were looking very empty and some had holes where Miranda had prised up the floorboards, hunting for a chest of money, or maybe silver coins. (Even though Uncle Shawn didn’t have anything like that.)

  Pearlyclaws tugged off his moustache with a small scream – “YeeE!” – and snapped at her, “I don’t care about jam and spoons, what about money? Uncle Shawn must have money. He’s so generous to everyone and always giving presents and letting things stay at his farm for free – he must be rich!”

  “We’ve searched everywhere, Sylv. We can check again – the Speshul Cocoa is keeping the silly, fat badger sound asleep and the llamas are busy being stupid outside. I won’t let them back in. I’ll say that the fresh air is good for them and they make too much of a mess in the kitchen – which they do, the hairy beasts.”

  As we know, Miranda was as messy as a football pitch after three weeks of rain, sixteen matches and a horse race, so she had a cheek saying that anyone else was messy.

  “It’s Mr Pearlyclaws to you.” Pearlyclaws chuckled like a swamp clogged with wickedness and walked over to his extra-large banjo case. “And even if we can’t find the treasure, we have the rest of our plan…” He flipped back the lid and – Aaaah! – revealed the giant pair of scissors!

  When she saw them Miranda clapped her dirty paws together and shouted, “Oh yes! Llama nose jewellery! It’s the latest thing. All you need is a few llama noses. And all you need to get llama noses is a big pair of scissors to snip them off!” She grinned with all her yellow, cruel teeth.

  “Then we varnish them and stuff jewels in the nose holes.” Pearlyclaws lifted out the scissors and opened and shut the two mighty blades so that he could see them shine and hear them make hungry noises…

  SKROOSH, SCREEESH, SCHROOOOSH, SCHREEEEESH.

  So Ginalolobrigida’s horoscope had been right, but not in a lucky and enjoyable way at all. Pearlyclaws thought llama noses were like jewels, and he’d snip them off and make them valuable.

  Those two wicked people were so pleased with themselves and their horrible plans that they jumped up and did a dance of wickedness.

  But who was watching from a corner of the kitchen ceiling? Claude the spider. Spider superspy Claude. He had walked all the way from Brian’s barn. And now – he had to tell Brian what he had found out!

  He set off again on his tiny legs, as fast as he could go.

  SECTION TWENTY-TWO

  In which there is an unexpected kind of moon welcome.

  While so many mainly terrible things had been happening on the farm, Uncle Shawn and Sam and Sky had been whooshing up through space towards the moon. Now they had stopped flying upwards and could feel themselves rushing faster than an oiled eel, down towards the surface of the moon! The magnet was falling even faster than they were and pulling the iron dish after it – more and more quickly, down they went. To the twins it seemed as if they would all land in one big squish and never be seen again. Or at least end up much shorter, like tin cans that someone has stepped on.

  Uncle Shawn shouted to Sam and Sky, just as if he was having fun and not worried one bit, “Hold on to my ankles, please! I have to catch that magnet before it gets too quick!”

  Sam and Sky had to really hold on tight while Uncle Shawn wriggled over the edge of the dish until most of him was hanging in outer space. As the twins held him and gritted their teeth, Uncle Shawn reached down and just managed to catch the magnet. It was going faster than an oiled penguin sliding down an iceberg because it is very late for dinner.

  “Pull me in, please!” The children pulled Uncle Shawn back onto the metal dish and, as he stood up, the magnet’s attraction slowed the dish a tiny bit.

  But it still seemed they were going too fast to survive a landing. The moon dust was billowing around them and Sky shouted, “We’re going to end up like bicuits!”

  “Like biscuits?” yelled Uncle Shawn. “Yes, I love them!”

  “No, she means we’re all going to end up like broken biscuits!” shouted Sam.

  Uncle Shawn just winked and smiled and said, “Now please, if you can just help me get as high as I can…” And he jumped, holding the magnet over his head, and because he weighed almost nothing the twins were able to hold on to his knees and keep him from landing back on the dish.

  Trying to get close to the magnet, the big iron dish began to really slow down. In fact, it slowed down so suddenly that Sam and Sky felt their tummies go flip-flop as if they had just gone over a bridge.

  Finally, with moon dust shining and powdered air glittering all around them, their peculiar spacecraft landed – FOOMFF – in a deep cushion of extra dust. They were safe!

  “Brilliant! Well done! I couldn’t have done it without you!” Uncle Shawn jumped up and down with delight and this made the soup dish jump up and down, too.

  “Woo! Nooo! That’s too bouncy!” shouted Sky.

  Uncle Shawn laughed and gave each of the twins a big packet of powdered air to swallow as they went along, and munched down a big handful himself. After that they cheered and hugged, because they were so glad they hadn’t been squashed.

  And they were on the moon! They were really, truly on the moon! Hooray!

  They would have kept on celebrating for some time – because moon dancing is great, bouncy low-gravity fun – if they hadn’t been interrupted by lots of shadows. Some of the shadows were velvety dark grey, some were midnighty blueish and some were misty tumbles – and they had arms and legs!

  If this wasn’t worrying enough, one rather round shadow crept up and swallowed Uncle Shawn’s wonderful magnet – GLUMP!

  “Uncle Shawn!” called Sam. “Something has happened to your magnet! How will we get home?” Sam blinked and stared and – suddenly – he realised that shadowy creatures were blinking and staring right back at him. “And who are they?!”

  “Everything is fine. These are some of the moon people, there’s nothing—” But before Uncle Shawn could say “to worry about”, the moon people closed in and picked up the big iron dish and carried them away!

  At least, the moon people thought they carried all of their visitors away. But as you know, Sky is an invisible girl and it is very difficult to catch an invisible girl if she doesn’t want to be caught.

  Meanwhile, down on Earth another day was dawning – perhaps the most dangerous day that any of our friends had ever faced.

  SECTION TWENTY-THREE

  In which we find some good nose news that anyone can see and some good moon news that no one can see.

  While so many terrible and strange and exciting things were happening to so many of our wonderful friends, Ginalolobrigida was delighted.

  She had woken feeling better than she had in ages, and when she looked in her Llama Looking Glass she saw that her nose spot had almost completely disappeared. Mr Smith’s mysterious ointment was amazing! She examined her face: the luscious llama lashes, the glowing and marvellous eyes, the glossy nose fur and the perfect tufts of hair on her delightful ears. “I am almost as beautiful as I feel inside.” She sighed. “That Mr Smith is a magnificent friend to llamas everywhere.”

  Although Ginalolobrigida was very clever for a llama and right about lots of things, she was very wrong about
that. “I look forward to seeing Señor Smith again.” She smiled contentedly.

  It was not the most sensible smile she had ever smiled.

  Meanwhile, Brian Llama was turning over in his llama hammock and dreaming very alarming dreams about that new human Mr Smith chasing him with a big banjo that he was whirling about his head.

  His hooves twitched while he dreamed of running and his head decided not to trust that Mr Smith, not even a little bit.

  And meanwhile, back on the moon, Sky was smiling a very sensible smile indeed while her head whirred with lots of ideas.

  She had been very clever and had wriggled out of her moon-going clothes and left them safely in the iron dish as the moon people rushed in to capture everyone.

  This allowed her to be invisible and slip away without anyone noticing anything, except maybe getting their foot stepped on or a nudge in the ribs. And in all the confusion of the capture, no one really paid any attention to that except Uncle Shawn, who smiled a wise smile straight at a patch of empty air, which maybe wasn’t empty at all.

  After the moon people left with Sam and Uncle Shawn and the iron dish, Sky was left standing alone in the moon dust.

  “Humph!” she said. “Well, I suppose being invisible is going to be useful for one last time. I shall have to rescue Uncle Shawn and Sam. Oh, but what will we do about getting home again? One of those terrible creatures swallowed the special magnet…” She felt so sad and alone that she sat in the dust and nearly cried. But then she decided that she really had to be brave, because everyone – Sam and Uncle Shawn and everyone in the world with a wish – was relying on her. “No. I will be brave and amazing and think of a fantastic plan!”