Freddie Mole, Lion Tamer

by Alexander McCall Smith

  This book is for George Lockhart

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Also by Alexander McCall Smith

  ~ 1 ~

  This is a picture of a boy called Freddie Mole. He lived quite a few years ago. At the time of this story, he was about ten – or maybe a bit younger or even a bit older. That doesn’t matter too much. The important thing was that Freddie Mole was a kind boy who everybody liked. Nobody had a bad word to say about him, and there were plenty of people who were happy to call him their friend.

  Freddie lived with his father, Ted Mole, and with his twin brother and sister, Ned and Bella, who were much younger than Freddie. He helped his father and his grandmother to look after the twins because their mother, Flora Mole, had gone off to sea to earn money for the family. She was one of those people who work on great ocean liners, making up the bunks and cleaning the cabins of the passengers. She wore a white uniform for this, and she worked very hard. She was often away for month after month – sometimes for as long as a year. When she came back she was always very tired from all her hard work and would sleep for a whole day and a whole night before her strength returned. Only then was she able to smile again. “Oh, my darlings,” she would say, “it’s so good to be home again.”

  “Where is Ma today?” Freddie sometimes asked his father, and Ted would point to the map of the world he kept on the kitchen wall. This would have a pin in it, usually in the middle of a lot of blue, which showed the position of the ship she was working on.

  “She’s off the coast of South America,” Ted Mole might say. Or, “I think she’s just about to reach Australia.”

  “I wish she didn’t have to be away so much,” said Freddie, rather sadly. “I can’t wait for her to come home.”

  But he knew he would have to wait – and so did his father. Ted Mole put his arm about his son. “I know what you mean, Freddie,” he said. “It’s very hard, but I’m afraid we have no choice. I can’t earn enough money doing my job and so Ma has to take the only job she can find – which is on those ships. I’m sorry about that, but that’s the way things are.”

  He was right, of course. Although Ted Mole worked very hard in his job as a washing machine repairman, he did not earn a great deal of money. This was because there were times when he did not have enough work, but it was also because his customers were often short of money and could not pay very much for their washing machines to be repaired.

  Mrs Mole sent back money from the ports her ships called in at, but most of what she sent went on food. The twins were hearty eaters because they were growing so quickly, and Ted Mole found that the grocery bills grew larger day by day. Then there was the cost of buying clothes for the family. Freddie did not have many new clothes, but the twins grew out of things so quickly that it seemed that Ted had to buy new clothes for them almost every month.

  “I don’t want them to stay the same size forever,” he complained. “But I do wish they wouldn’t grow quite so fast.”

  It would have been easier for Ted Mole if he had only had to look after his own small family, but he had other people who relied on him too. His brother, Stanley Mole, had hurt his leg badly in an accident, and was unable to work as a result. He had six children to support, so Ted Mole had to give him money to make sure that nobody went hungry in that family. As a result, at the end of the month there was hardly ever any money left – just a couple of coins, and that would never buy very much: a few potatoes, perhaps, or half a loaf of bread.

  “I wish we weren’t quite so poor,” said Freddie to his father. “I wish that I could earn some money to help you.”

  Ted Mole shook his head. “That’s kind of you,” he said. “But you have to go to school and learn. That way you’ll be able to get a good job one day. Think how you can help us all then.”

  Freddie knew that his father was right, but he still wished that he could do something. He dreamed of ways of making some money. Perhaps he would invent something that everybody needed. Perhaps he would stumble across a nugget of gold in the stream that ran near his house. He had read about a man who had found a diamond when he was digging in the sand. At first he thought it was just any old rock, but when he washed it and it began to sparkle he knew that it was something very valuable. The man who found that diamond had been very poor – but no longer. That showed it could happen.

  But we know, don’t we, that things like that happen to other people. They never happen to us.

  “Has anybody ever found a diamond near where we live?” asked Freddie.

  His father shook his head. “No,” he said. “Never.”

  “Or dug up any gold?”

  Again Ted Mole shook his head. “Not here,” he said. “There are places where you can find gold, but they’re far away, I think. Australia, maybe.”

  Ted Mole looked at his son. He knew how much Freddie wanted to help, but there was no point in having false hopes. Yet there was no reason, he thought, why you should not have your dreams.

  “Life can be very hard, my dear,” he said to Freddie one evening as he tucked him into bed. “But let me tell you something.”

  Freddie waited for his father to continue.

  “Sometimes,” Ted Mole went on, “sometimes, good things happen when you least expect them. So the important thing is this: never give up hope.”

  “I won’t,” said Freddie, as he closed his eyes for sleep. “I promise I won’t.”

  “Good,” said his father. “Because you never know what’s going to happen, do you?”

  ~ 2 ~

  Because Freddie was so popular at school, his friends often asked him to go on outings with them. So Freddie was invited to go bowling and swimming. He was invited to go to the cinema, where his friends would buy him large tubs of popcorn. He was given tickets to football matches where his friends’ fathers had good seats near the front. He enjoyed all of this, of course, but at the same time he felt awkward about not being able to repay these acts of kindness.

  “Don’t worry,” said his friends. “You don’t have to pay us back. It doesn’t matter.”

  But it did matter to Freddie. “One day I’ll do something for them,” he said to himself. “I don’t know when it will be, or how it will come about, but I’ll do it.”

  It was one of these friends, Luke, who said to Freddie one day, “Would you like to go to the circus? You know that circus on the other side of town? Well, my dad has bought tickets. There’ll be one for you, if you’d like it.”

  Freddie did not need any time to think about his answer. “Of course I would,” he exclaimed. “I’d like that very much.”

  Luke asked him whether he had ever been to a circus before.

  “No,” said Freddie. “I’ve read about circuses, but I’ve never actually been to one.”

  “They’re very exciting,” said Luke. “We went last year. They had people who swung on a trapeze, and a strong man who could tear telephone directories in half. And clowns, of course.”

  Freddie’s eyes widened in delight. All of that sounded like just the sort of thing he would like to see.

  “And lions,” continued Luke.

  Freddie’s eyes opened even wider. “In the tent?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Luke. “They had a large cage, you see, that they set up in the ring. Then the lions came in and roared and sat on stools and roared again. It was really scary.”

  “I’ve heard of all that,” said Freddie. “But I never thought I’d see it.”

  “Well, you will,” said Luke. “You’ll s
ee it all tomorrow – and I know you’ll like it.”

  * * *

  Now, let’s talk about lions in circuses. If you go to a circus today you will not see lions – so don’t be disappointed if there’s not a single lion about. But remember that this story took place when circuses still had lions. That was not all that long ago, of course.

  What happened to the lions you used to see in circuses? Well, many people thought it was rather unkind to keep lions in a circus and I think that these days most people agree with them. Lions are wild creatures, and it cannot be much fun being made to jump up on stools in a cage while hundreds of people look at you and shout and squeal. So circuses stopped having lions and became all about people who could do extraordinary things on the trapeze or be fired, as a human cannonball, out of great guns. That is certainly better for the lions; they were all sent off to nicer places – to zoos where they had more room to lead their lives without performing or, in some cases, to game parks that were almost as good as being back in the wild.

  But in those days, there were still lions in the circus, and that night Freddie dreamed about them. He was not sure how many there were, or what they were doing, but there were lions in his dreams – great fierce creatures with dark manes and yellow eyes that looked right through you. It was not exactly a nightmare, but he was still glad when he woke up and realised that the lions had been dream lions all along.

  * * *

  The next day was an exciting day for more than one reason. Not only was there the trip to the circus, but it was also the last day of school before the summer holidays. That was always a wonderful day, as everybody looked forward to the long days of doing exactly what you wanted to do rather than having to go off to school every morning. If you combine that feeling with the sense of excitement that goes with an outing to the circus that very night, you can imagine how Freddie felt.

  The circus consisted of a very large tent, topped with a line of brightly coloured flags. All around the tent there were vans and trailers, some of them small, some of them big. This was where the circus supplies were kept – the things that the performers needed for their acts, food for the animals, and of course there were also the caravans in which the circus people lived. It was like a whole extra town – although a not very large one – that was attached to the edge of the real town.

  Luke’s parents led the way to the circus entrance. There they handed in their tickets at a booth before being directed into the tent itself. That was a very exciting moment, as it was just like entering a great cave, filled with lights, music and the smell of canvas. In the centre was a ring, on the floor of which sawdust had been sprinkled. Around the ring, climbing up the sides of the tent, were row upon row of wooden seats.

  The tent soon filled up with people and before long every single seat was taken. Luke and Freddie had a very good view, as they were right down in the first row – one of the very best places to be. They sat there, on the very edge of their seats with excitement, while the band played and the lights began to dim.

  Now it was dark except for a beam of light playing down on the ring of sawdust. At this point the band stopped, all but the drums, which grew louder and louder. Then, in a flash of light, a man in a red tail coat and black top hat leapt into the ring and made a low bow.

  “The ringmaster,” whispered Luke’s father. “He’s the most important man in the whole circus.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” shouted the ringmaster. “Boys and girls! The circus will now begin!”

  With that, he gave another bow. Then the lights came up again and Freddie watched in fascination as a man and a woman skipped into the ring in gold outfits, waved to the audience, and began climbing two ladders that soared up to the very top of the tent, high above the heads of the audience.

  “Please be very quiet,” shouted the ringmaster. “For what you are about to see is a terribly, terribly dangerous act and any slip, even the smallest slip – could lead to …” He paused, and the tent became completely silent. “… could lead to DISASTER!”

  Somebody in the audience uttered a squeal of fear, but was drowned out by the roll of the drums as the two performers reached a platform at the top of the tent. There were two swings up there – two trapezes – and the performers now took hold of these and swung out over the emptiness below. Freddie held his breath. The ringmaster had been right. This was terribly dangerous.

  But then he saw the net. It was right down near the ground, but it would have broken their fall if they had slipped and tumbled. But it was still a very long way down, he thought, and he did not think he would have cared to fall that far.

  There were many other acts and every one of them was thrilling. Just as Luke had predicted, there were lions. That, for Freddie, was the highlight of the evening. He had never seen a real lion before and now there were four of them, all snarling and showing their fangs to the lion tamer and the audience. Each time they roared, a shiver ran through the crowd.

  “You’d never get me in there,” whispered Luke, pointing to the cage in which the lion act took place.

  Freddie thought for a moment. Would he ever be brave enough to get that close to a group of four large lions – or even to one lion? He thought not, but then he would never have the chance to do that.

  Or so he thought. But sometimes the things we think are wrong. Sometimes we can be very wrong about what lies ahead of us and things that you imagine are unlikely – or even quite impossible – come about. And for Freddie, they did. This is what happened.

  ~ 3 ~

  During the school holidays Freddie would sometimes help his father fix washing machines. While the twins went off to their grandmother’s house, Freddie would go with his father in the van. They would work all morning, Freddie helping him tighten nuts and bolts and passing him tools as he needed them. Then they would eat their sandwiches together at lunchtime, sitting in the van. Freddie felt very important doing this – it was just as if he had a real job although, of course, his father did not pay him.

  On the day after he had visited the circus, Freddie went with his father on his rounds. It was a busy day as a lot of washing machines had broken down and there was a great deal of work to do. But while they ate their lunch together, Freddie told Ted Mole all about the night at the circus and about how much he and Luke had enjoyed it.

  “There were some very funny clowns,” he said. “They sprayed foam over one another. And there were some performing dogs and people who swung on a high trapeze.”

  “It sounds just like the circuses I used to go to when I was a boy,” said Ted Mole. “I shall never forget them.”

  “And there were lions,” Freddie continued. “There were four large lions that roared and snarled like this …” He tried to imitate the lions, but of course the sound he made was nowhere near as frightening as the sound of the real lions.

  “Oh yes,” said Ted Mole. “Never liked lions much myself, you know. Nasty creatures. Bite you if they get half the chance.” He looked at his watch. “Lunchtime’s up, Freddie. Time to get back to work.”

  They worked hard until three o’clock, when they went back to Ted Mole’s workshop to tidy up and put the tools away. It was while they were doing this that the telephone rang. “Looks like we might be working late, Freddie,” his father said, as he put the phone to his ear. “Hello? Ted Mole, washing machine repairs …”

  Freddie did not hear the other side of the conversation. All he heard was his father agreeing to come as soon as possible. Then Ted Mole put the phone down and turned to his son.

  “You’ll never guess,” he said. “You’ll never guess who that was. Any idea?”

  Freddie shook his head.

  “The ringmaster of that circus you went to,” said Ted, with a smile. “They have a washing machine in one of the vans. They use it for the performers’ outfits, apparently. And it’s …”

  “It’s broken?”

  Ted Mole nodded. “They’re expecting us in about half an hour – so we’ll just
get the tools together again and be on our way.”

  As they prepared to set off, Freddie felt the excitement grow within him. He had caught only the slightest glimpse of what went on behind the scenes at the circus – now he would have a chance to see much more. And he would meet the ringmaster, too, who might be able to introduce him to the clowns.

  Waiting for something you really want to happen can make time drag. It did drag that afternoon – in fact, thought Freddie, it was the longest half hour he could remember. Eventually though, they finished and were off on their way to the field at the edge of town where the circus was waiting for them.

  The ringmaster met them at the entrance. He was not wearing his tail coat and top hat now, but was dressed in ordinary clothes – the sort of clothes that a ringmaster might wear when not on duty. He shook hands with Ted Mole and then with Freddie.

  “It’s good of you to come so quickly,” he said. “We need that machine for our outfits. Working in a circus can be a dirty business and we all need to look smart. So if our washing machine stops working, it’s a big problem.”

  He led them to a large van with double doors that had been left open. Inside the van were several baskets of unwashed laundry standing outside one of the largest washing machines either Freddie or his father had ever seen.

  Ted gave a whistle. “That’s a bit of a monster,” he said. “I’ve never tackled anything like that before.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have no difficulty,” said the ringmaster. “And while you’re looking at it, I’ll go off and get you each a mug of tea.”

  Circus tea! thought Freddie, and smiled with pleasure at the thought.

  Ted Mole rolled his sleeves up and set to work on the unusual washing machine.