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

by A. L. Kennedy

  While Sky was missing her brother and the wonderful Uncle Shawn, and trying to think how she could save them all by herself, behind her two very bright creatures whose arms and legs were made of light and whose middles were made of sparks and glimmers came up and started playing in the dust, as if it were sand at the seaside. They chased each other and caught each other and somersaulted down a big slope of dust and made dust castles. The faster they ran, the brighter they shone, with streams and fountains of lights flowing off them. Their movements made a very small noise that was quite jingly.

  The jingling got louder as the young, shiny moon people dared each other to get closer and closer to a long line in the dust. Then a much bigger light creature ran up and shouted at the two little ones.

  “Bad children! Don’t ever play here again! This is much too near to where the Hurrfoofurrhurrs are. Now that we’re at war with them, we can’t risk it. Keep away from the border line!”

  “But we like them,” said one of the young light creatures.

  “Yes, they’re tickly,” said the other. “Why can’t we play with them any more? They like us, because we’re warm and we jingle.”

  “No, they don’t like you,” said the older creature. “They’re horrible. They’ve always been horrible. And we Paafoofurrhurrs won’t be speaking to them or playing with them any more. We are working out how to be at war with them – maybe by never sending them birthday cards again.”

  “So the tickly midnight moonfolk are called Hurrfoofurrhurrs and the sparkly moonfolk are called Paafoofurrhurrs,” thought Sky. “And even if they don’t really know how to be at war yet, what if they find out and hurt each other? And what if they think Sam and Uncle Shawn are spies?”

  As the big Paafoofurrhurr pulled the little ones away, Sky crept away to find where Sam and Uncle Shawn had been taken. Off she went, treading silently on the soft moon dust. She was very brave.

  SECTION TWENTY-FOUR

  In which there is sneakiness and pretending.

  Back on the farm, Bill still hadn’t woken up. Two nights and a day had passed since he staggered up to bed and fell asleep. He was trapped in his horrible Speshul sleep, full of nasty dreams where all of his teachers chased him and his tail turned pink and started to whizz round and make noises like a kazoo (which would embarrass any smart young badger). Around him the farmhouse was empty and full of miserable echoes and sad dust. During the night Miranda had even stolen some of the windows.

  While Brian dozed in his llama barn – because his nightmares had made him extra-tired – the other llamas were all gathered around Pearlyclaws. He had told them they were having breakfast outdoors because it would be refreshing. Not because the kitchen had been stolen and if they went inside they would all notice.

  Pearlyclaws – who was pretending to be called Mr Smith – was also pretending to love llamas. He even gave Ginalolobrigida, Carlos and Guinevere scones that he said he had baked himself. (Really he had bought them from Mrs MacMuckle’s World of Scones in Pandrumdroochit.)

  Ginalolobrigida was especially nice to Pearlyclaws as she was so pleased that her nose was almost back to normal. She even lowered her head so that he could tickle between her ears if he wanted to. She was sure he was the marvellous stranger her horoscope had mentioned.

  Of course, Pearlyclaws would rather have jumped into a tub of boiling scorpions than have to be nice to a llama, but he needed them for his terrible plan. He produced his measuring tape and started to measure how wide the lovely, soft downy ends of the llamas’ noses were, and how long their ears were. Then he measured the size of their nostrils.

  This made Carlos sneeze. “No one has ever measured our noses before, Mr Smith. Nor our ears.”

  “Who?” asked Pearlyclaws. “Oh, yes. Me. Mr Smith. I am Mr Smith.” Pearlyclaws dabbed ointment on to each of their noses. It made their skin feel very smooth and their tiny nose hairs very glossy, but they thought this was all a bit strange.

  “Mr Smith, do you have any horse relatives? You have wonderful horse teeth,” said Guinevere.

  “What!” yelled Pearlyclaws.

  The llamas suddenly felt scared. If Pearlyclaws wasn’t careful they might lay their ears flat along the sides of their necks and tip up their chins, and the next thing he would see would be a waterfall of llama spit heading his way.

  “I beg your pardon,” Pearlyclaws smarmed. “My mother was always being asked if she was a horse and teeth are a sensitive subject.”

  This was another huge fib. The only thing anyone ever asked his mother was, “Why are you so horrible and – goodness – why is your little son even worse?”

  Pearlyclaws put the ointment pot away and began to stare at each of the llamas in a hypnotising way.

  “You are feeling sleepy. I am a qualified llama expert and you can trust me,” he lied. “Hang on, aren’t there four of you dreadful creatures? I mean, marvellous beasts.”

  “There are four of us… Hmmm… Yes, four,” murmured Ginalolobrigida as she slowly sank to the grass.

  “Four…” mumbled Carlos as he also sank down and started snoring.

  “Hmmmm,” muttered Guinevere as she folded up like a towel and fell fast asleep.

  The three llamas were at Pearlyclaws’ mercy! Oh no!

  Pearlyclaws studied them. “This nose will be perfect for a brooch. And those ears can be added to a hat.” He giggled. “And these ears are so dreadful I might just cut them off and throw them away. But first I am going to find that stupid, scaredy, knobbly-kneed llama with the sad eyes.”

  And then he laughed and skipped happily away to find poor Brian. “I’ll get you, Brooin… Brown? Brain?”

  Pearlyclaws couldn’t even get Brian’s name right.

  If you would like to boo at this point, it might make Pearlyclaws feel a little less sure of himself.

  Yes. There. He stubbed his toe on a clump of grass and hurt one of his precious feet that make him so proud.

  Oh, but that hasn’t stopped him being completely horrible. It has just made him annoyed.

  “Yes,” he growled, “there’s nothing nicer than making an animal with sad eyes get sadder.”

  And he stamped onwards, determined. But with a sore toe.

  While Pearlyclaws went sneaking and snooking along to find poor Brian, Uncle Shawn and Sam had been carried straight into horrible danger.

  They were set down inside a large, warm cave, where the shadowy moonfolk surrounded them like a tickly fog bank.

  Uncle Shawn helped Sam to stand. “I’m sure this will all turn out very well and that we will be having great fun in no time,” he whispered, and he held Sam’s hand.

  But then a huge voice roared, “WHO HAS DARED TO ENTER THE TERRITORY OF THE GREAT AND GLORIOUS KING OF THE HURRFOOFURRHURRS? YOU ARE SPIES FROM OUR SWORN ENEMIES THE PAAFOOFURRHURRS! WE MUST PUNISH YOU!”

  All the Hurrfoofurrhurrs backed away, and Sam and Uncle Shawn could see a giant, frowning creature, made out of swirls of shadow and gloom…

  SECTION TWENTY-FIVE

  In which we find a spiderweb, but not the clingy, scary kind – the really, really useful kind. There are also tippy-tappy spider feet.

  Since hearing so many terrible and important things in the farmhouse, Claude the spider had been rushing – as fast as he could on tiny feet – back to Brian’s barn. It had taken him all night climbing over blades of grass and walking round daisies and swinging through bushes like a tiny Tarzan.

  He was hoping to save Brian. He was hoping to save everyone – if only he could get to the barn in time.

  This morning, he was nearly there…

  And who else do we know was heading for Brian’s barn on this exact same morning – on big human legs and quick human feet, of which he was far too proud?

  Pearlyclaws!

  And he had stopped to collect those huge, sharp, nose-nipping scissors!

  Claude the spider bounced up and down on Brian’s nose with his pointy tippy-tappy spider feet.

  “No, Señor Sp
ider,” mumbled Brian. “I am sleeping please and thank you. I am most extremely very tired and do not want new nightmares with spider feet inside them.” And the hair on Brian’s ears stood up a little bit because spiders made him nervous, even though he knew that Claude was really nice and helpful.

  Brian rolled over. But then he felt another prickly dance of spider feet.

  “Señor Spider Mr Claude sir. Please do not disturb me. I do not want to dream of spiders serving ice cream made with flies…” Although, of course, that’s exactly what he started to dream about – very stern-looking spiders, waving tubs of bluebottle ice cream and shouting at him.

  Claude jumped up and down even faster and waved six of his legs in the air while he bounced.

  Brian rolled over to try sleeping on his back with his hooves in the air. This was very uncomfortable and he was just about to say, “Oh, Señor Claude, stop please,” when he opened his eyes and saw Claude’s enormous message all over the rafters and beams of the barn’s ceiling.

  Every single one of Brian’s hairs stood on end so that he looked like a frightened fur balloon.

  This was because the message said:

  Brian froze in total panic. He couldn’t imagine what he should do…

  While Brian was being more worried than he had ever been before – which international worry experts would have thought was impossible – Pearlyclaws was on his way.

  And he had almost reached Brian’s barn!

  As Pearlyclaws stamped angrily along on his beautiful (or so he thought) feet, his big horse teeth glimmered in the sunshine and so did the nose-snipping scissors he was carrying. And he was smiling!

  Brian’s llama barn had a big BRIAN painted on its door with a smiling llama face saying “Hola amigo!”, which means “Hello friend!”. (Brian had spent a whole afternoon with a can of orange paint, writing it all by himself.)

  But maybe there was still a chance Pearlyclaws wouldn’t remember that Brian was called … well, Brian. Then he would go and look in the other, empty barns and maybe get fed up and go away. Or need to sit down and have a rest, or—

  Oh, but no! Pearlyclaws had finally remembered that Brian was called … well, Brian. This made it easy for that very wicked man to find where that lovely llama was defenceless and sleeping…

  Pearlyclaws snickered as he opened the big barn door.

  He stepped inside, moving the scissors so that they made their terrifying sound.

  SKROOSH, SCREEESH, SCHROOOOSH, SCHREEEEESH.

  Pearlyclaws tiptoed over to Brian’s straw bed…

  And…

  He couldn’t see Brian.

  He put down the scissors and rummaged in the straw.

  No Brian.

  He kicked the straw with his beautiful (or so he thought) feet.

  Still no Brian.

  He looked all over the barn.

  He couldn’t see Brian anywhere.

  Hooray!

  But where on Earth could Brian have gone?

  SECTION TWENTY-SIX

  In which we find hat theft!

  Meanwhile, down in the farmhouse Badger Bill was finally waking up. Although the Speshul Cocoa was extremely strong, he was too worried about his friends to sleep any longer.

  “Oofff.” He sat straight up in bed with his fur feeling frizzled and his claws tingling. “I will get a water of glass. No, a glass of water.” His thoughts were as tangled as snakes in a disco. “Oh, I feel so wibbly and woozly…”

  He got out of his little badger bed.

  And—

  Oh no! His little badger bedroom was empty!

  There was no fluffy blue rug for his morning toes and no curtains and no wardrobe with his waistcoats. (Sometimes Bill wore waistcoats to look especially dashing.) There was no cupboard to hold his pullovers and no pullovers. There was no bookshelf to hold his books about famous and interesting badgers and there were no books, and no globe showing all the places in the world he wanted to go. There was no moon chart, showing when it should be bright and full and when it should be dark and new.

  AND THERE WERE NO HATS!

  Bill loved his hats. He had a hat for every single occasion. And every one of them had vanished!

  The only thing left in his room was his bed, and someone had even slipped the sheet out from underneath his sleeping body and sneaked off with his favourite quilt – the one with the badger explorers on!

  Bill’s head was whirling so fast he felt as if his eyes might go googly, but the nasty surprise was beginning to clear his brain and weaken the effects of the Speshul Cocoa. “Who can have done this?” he asked himself. “And why didn’t Miranda stop them?” The whirling kept on and cleared more and more of his thinking. “Miranda is beautiful and she has silky fur. She wouldn’t steal everything. Would she…?”

  And then all the wriggly, naggly feelings at the back of Bill’s head that had been trying to warn him ever since he met Miranda came rushing in.

  “She has stolen all of my things! She has stolen all of Uncle Shawn’s things! She has stolen my hats!”

  Bill ran through every room in the farmhouse, finding nothing but dust and dirty paw prints and marks on walls where pictures used to hang. Miranda had even taken the toilet seat. And the toilet.

  Bill stamped in annoyance. “I thought I was in love with her. I thought that she was in love with me! All she did was bully me and feed me nasty cocoa and hit my ears. Oh, she may be the worst badger in the world! Worse than Wickedenia Badger who once filled every post box in Hull with irritated lizards. Oh, I have been such a fool!”

  Then Bill’s tummy went all cold and worried. “I was supposed to look after everyone. I forgot about all my friends! Are they safe?! And what will Uncle Shawn think when he sees the farmhouse is empty? He won’t like me any more and he was my best friend ever in the whole world and I will miss him! And the llamas will hate me and I will miss them too!”

  Poor Bill held his head in his paws as big badger tears rolled down the stripes of his little badger nose.

  “I wish I’d never seen Miranda. I wish I had gone to the moon. I wish everything would go back to the way it was.” But nothing happened. His wishes weren’t working.

  “I need a plan,” thought Bill, being very brave. “I need a Defeat Miranda Plan. Oh, but I need my friends to help me. I wonder where they are and if they still like me. And I do hope Miranda hasn’t been nasty to them.”

  Although he still felt strange from the Speshul Cocoa, Bill stumbled off to make sure his llama pals were all right.

  SECTION TWENTY-SEVEN

  In which we find moonfolk and – oh, thank goodness! – maybe the start of some rescuing.

  Back on the moon, Uncle Shawn and Sam stared up at the vast, shadowy moon creature. Sam held his breath and waited to be thrown into a moon dungeon, or worse.

  But then Sam heard Uncle Shawn laugh a huge laugh and call out, “King Foom, how wonderful to see you again!”

  The tall moon creature clapped its foggy hands together and chuckled with a sound like thunder. “Uncle Shawn! How excellent to see you. My people – the proud and magnificent Hurrfoofurrhurrs – thought you were spies from those dreadful Paafoofurrhurrs. They are our enemies forever now, their queen is a terrible person and I don’t know why I liked her. And I don’t miss all the games we used to play. Or our banquets. Or the hat-making and fun.

  But now we each have to keep on opposite sides of the border so all the light is in the wrong place and the moon doesn’t sing any more.” He sighed. “I suppose we will be at war and do war-type things – once we can work out how.”

  King Foom shook his foggy fist and the other Hurrfoofurrhurrs growled. They sounded like sleepy bees, which wasn’t very scary, but Uncle Shawn thought to himself, “Hmmmm. If the moon people work out how to fight each other properly, lots of them could get hurt. This is not good at all. I thought I would have got a big, shiny wish for Sky by now and be on my way home… And where is Sky? And where is my magnet? And how long will our powdered air
last? I didn’t bring enough for a long visit.” Uncle Shawn rubbed his hand through his wibbly hair. “This moon trip could either be a wonderful adventure, or a big mistake.” He tried whistling to keep himself cheery. Then he stopped in case it wasted too much air.

  But then he noticed marks appearing in the moon dust near his feet. It was almost as if someone was writing with an invisible finger…

  And he grinned a gigantunormous Uncle Shawn grin and thought, “My, my. Well, I think I might enjoy being rescued by a clever invisible girl.” And he winked at nothing at all.

  And the patch of nothing at all giggled as if it were a brave and resourceful girl.

  Just as Uncle Shawn was thinking, “I hope Brian isn’t too worried that we have been away so long,” Sylvester Pearlyclaws was searching for Brian in every barn and shed and strawberry patch, kicking at piles of leaves and generally being furious. He had left his big scissors in Brian’s barn because they were so heavy. But this didn’t mean he had forgotten about nose snipping.

  But where was Brian? How did he escape from the barn without Pearlyclaws seeing him? Did he wish very hard and become an invisible llama?

  No, he can’t have – nobody’s wishes are working!

  Well, in fact … Brian was still in the barn!

  As soon as Claude heard Pearlyclaws’ plan he had sent a coded signal of tugs and taps along the thin thread all spiders use to keep in touch. (They call it the World Wide Web.)

  This meant that hundreds of spiders had rushed to help Claude. Together they had woven a spiderweb hammock, big enough to hold Brian.