‘She’s not a hairity at all!’ cried someone else. ‘She’s a fake! Her hair is curly.’
Philippe turned back to look at Shimlara. He froze in horror.
‘Time to get out of here!’ said Sean. He produced the big bread knife he’d brought from home and lunged for the ropes that were keeping them tethered to the ground.
Philippe’s face turned tomato red. ‘I KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING NOT RIGHT ABOUT YOU! YOU’RE JUST A LOT OF DIRTY COMMONERS! GET OUT OF MY BALLOON NOW!’
Tyler was bent over the balloon’s burner muttering urgently to himself.
Philippe came running back and grabbed for the edge of the basket. Sean used the knife to slice through another rope and the balloon lurched sideways. Philippe jumped again and this time he managed to grab hold of the side of the basket.
‘Excuse me, we are not dirty commoners!’ screamed Greta (although she didn’t sound exactly lady-like, Nicola noted). She took off her shoe and used it to bang hard at Philippe’s fingers.
‘OW!’ Philippe released his hand and toppled to the ground just as Sean cut the final rope.
At the same time Tyler said, ‘Aha!’ and turned a control on the burner. There was a hiss and a burst of hot air.
The hot-air balloon floated straight up into the sky.
27
There was no sound at all.
They were floating silently through the arch of a rainbow. It was like flying through a tunnel of shimmering colour. The fabric of the balloon fluttered gently in the breeze. The basket swayed softly.
No one said a word.
Nicola felt her shoulders sag. There was something about the sudden unexpected silence that was extremely relaxing. She looked at her friends and the rich colours flickering across their faces. If only Katie were here this would be one of those perfect memories that Nicola could store away in her mind ready to pull out next time she was stuck in a boring maths lesson.
Beneath them Shimlara’s angry fans and Philippe ran around in circles like furious ants.
Shimlara removed her cap. Her hair blew wild and curly in the breeze. Everyone smiled when they saw it and Shimlara chuckled. ‘Guess I’m just a dirty commoner like the rest of you.’
‘Did you like being a hairity?’ asked Nicola curiously. It was a relief to see Shimlara looking like herself again.
‘It was weird,’ said Shimlara. ‘It sort of went to my head in the beginning. I thought I really was amazing just because everyone was treating me that way.’
‘It went to your head, did it?’ said Sean, innocently. ‘Wow. I couldn’t tell at all.’
‘Okay, I know I went overboard. But even though I sort of loved it, it made me feel kind of lonely too. I missed being me.’
‘We missed you being you too,’ said Tyler.
He licked his finger and held it outside the balloon.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Greta.
‘I’m checking which way the wind is blowing.’
‘So how does licking your finger tell you that?’
‘I don’t know,’ admitted Tyler. ‘My dad does it before he puts up the beach umbrella. It seemed like the right thing to do.’ He adjusted the burner of the balloon slightly and peered out over the edge of the basket. ‘Anyway, it looks like we’re heading in the right direction at the moment. Look. That’s the Cloud-Capped Mountain.’ He pointed towards the dramatic outline of a craggy mountain silhouetted crisply against a bright blue sky.
Nicola said, ‘We’re lucky with the weather. It’s a beautiful day.’
‘Yes.’ Shimlara squinted thoughtfully up at the blue sky. ‘Although don’t forget what Philippe said.’
Nicola had forgotten. ‘What did he say?’
‘Hey!’ At that moment a gust of cold air blew Greta’s hat straight off her head and whipped it away.
Nicola watched the cap being whirled this way and that and suddenly she remembered all too clearly what Philippe had said: They’ve forecast a minor hurricane . . .
She said cheerily, ‘At least they aren’t forecasting a major –’ She gulped on the word ‘hurricane’ as another gust of wind rocked the balloon and knocked her hard against Greta.
‘Watch it,’ said Greta automatically, but she, like the rest of the Space Brigade, was frowning up at the huge banks of heavy grey cloud rolling rapidly across the sky like ocean waves. There was a deep rumble of thunder and a sudden spatter of icy rain against the fabric of the balloon.
‘This doesn’t look good,’ said Tyler. There were specks of water on his glasses. He brushed them away impatiently.
‘It’s turned extra cold.’ Shimlara shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.
Directly above them was a patch of bright blue sky like the leftover piece of a completely different day.
‘How are we going to fly this thing through a hurricane? We shouldn’t have left Philippe behind,’ said Greta crossly, as if she hadn’t been bashing his knuckles with her shoe just five minutes before.
‘All we’ve got to do is stay in the eye of the hurricane,’ said Sean. ‘I saw it in a movie. That’s where you’re safe.’
‘Oh, is that all? Well then, we shouldn’t have a problem!’ Tyler didn’t normally sound irritable and sarcastic. He must be frightened, thought Nicola.
They were in a hot-air balloon with a hurricane sweeping towards them. It really couldn’t get much worse than this. For some reason, instead of crying, Nicola started to laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’ snapped Greta. ‘This isn’t funny! There is nothing funny about this at all!’
That only made Nicola laugh harder.
‘Is she hysterical?’ asked Shimlara ‘Nicola, are you hysterical?’
Nicola decided to pull herself together before everyone started enthusiastically slapping her across the face.
‘I’m not hysterical,’ she said, and tried to think of something leaderish and sensible to say. A notice stuck to the inside of the basket caught her eye.
‘Now will you all just calm down and take a look at this notice,’ she said bossily, as if everyone else had been the ones falling about laughing. They all crouched down to read.
WHAT TO DO IN THE CASE OF A MINOR OR MAJOR HURRICANE
In the case of a minor hurricane, your chances of survival are approximately 48.5–63.5%. We recommend that you:
1. Place an inflatable bubble-jacket (stored under the burner) over your head and tie the straps around your waist as per the diagram. Bubble-jackets are designed to inflate on impact with a hard surface. In this event you will find yourself encased within a bouncy rubber ball for your own safety. Unfortunately it is not possible to remove yourself from the ball without assistance. We apologise for any inconvenience.
2. Sit on the floor of the basket.
3. If you are accompanied by acquaintances or loved ones it might be a good idea to confirm your feelings. For example, ‘I love you’, ‘I am quite fond of you’, or ‘I have never really liked you all that much’, as the case may be. You may also want to ask for forgiveness for previous wrongs, such as hurtful comments, forgotten birthdays, etc.
NOTE: DO NOT attempt to fly the balloon to any specific location. This is a HURRICANE, folks. The balloon is going to do whatever the hurricane wants. The best you can hope for is that you’ll be slammed gently into the nearest mountain. By the way, there will always be some joker in the pack who suggests heading for the eye of the storm. This is like advising a bankrupt person to try to win the lottery. Sure it would be great, but what are the odds? (Teeny-weeny.)
In the case of a major hurricane, your chances of survival are approximately 0%. We recommend that you:
Enjoy your last few moments of life!
Thank you for flying with Shobble’s leading hot-air balloonists.
Nicola was the fastest reader so she finished first. Her earlier laughter had vanished although she could still feel the giggly sensation at the back of her throat. She watched the emotions fly across everyone’s faces as they re
ad. They frowned, they chewed their lips, they went bright red or ghost white.
One by one, as each person finished reading the sign, they turned their head towards Nicola in search of guidance.
28
‘Philippe did say a minor hurricane, didn’t he?’ Shimlara gripped the side of the basket as it rocked aggressively. Long strands of her hair whipped across her face and caught in her mouth. ‘Tell me he didn’t say major!’
‘He definitely said minor.’ Tyler squinted up at the mass of angry black cloud that was gathering above them. ‘Although this looks pretty major to me.’
‘I don’t see what’s so bad about suggesting that you try to fly into the eye of the storm.’ Sean looked offended by the notice. ‘It makes perfect sense!’
‘I knew taking the hot-air balloon was a bad idea.’ Greta pulled a Honeyville Primary raincoat from her backpack, her lips pursed as if someone had purposely arranged the hurricane just to annoy her.
‘Well it’s funny you never mentioned it,’ said Shimlara.
‘I knew there was no point. Nobody ever listens to me.’
Suddenly it was pouring fat, heavy raindrops. Within seconds everyone was drenched and shivering uncontrollably, their hair plastered to their heads. Nicola felt raindrops running icily down the back of her clothes. Thunder boomed and lightning cracked like a whip, illuminating their wet, frightened faces. The basket rocked so hard everyone lurched clumsily about trying to keep their balance. Shimlara’s elbow collided with Greta’s nose.
‘OW!’
‘It’s not my fault!’
Nicola imagined how their hot-air balloon must look from the ground. Probably like a helpless butterfly being tossed about against the huge backdrop of the sky. Philippe was no doubt laughing his head off at their predicament. Would they survive? And what would happen to Katie if the rest of them were killed in a ballooning accident?
Tyler yelled over the noise of the rain, ‘We’ve got to put our bubble-jackets on like the notice says!’
Sean crouched down and pulled red jackets from a box beneath the balloon’s burner. He handed one to each person. They looked like puffier versions of ordinary life jackets. Nicola tugged hers over her head and tied the straps around her waist.
The others were crouching around the edges of the basket with their heads bowed against the rain and the wind.
She wedged herself between Greta and Sean.
Greta leaned over and spoke into Nicola’s ear. ‘I’ve always found you pretty annoying, Nicola.’
‘What?’ Nicola wasn’t sure if she’d heard right.
‘You know, the notice said to tell people how you really feel.’
Nicola couldn’t respond because suddenly the wind grew so strong it was difficult to breathe. The basket jerked back and forth, swooped up in an arc, plummeted down and then soared back up again. Without thinking, Nicola reached for the hands of Sean and Greta. Both of them grabbed at her hands and held on tight. She looked up briefly and saw that all the Space Brigade were holding hands, their foreheads pressed against their knees, a huddled, terrified circle on the floor of the basket. Nicola pressed her face back down against her knees as well.
The howling of the wind sounded horrible. A whooooohooooo-ooooo sound like a ghost screaming.
Or was it Shimlara screaming?
Or was it herself screaming?
Or was it all of them screaming?
And then the balloon turned into a merry-go-round on fast-forward. Round and round and round it went, faster and faster and faster.
Nicola opened her eyes and saw the side of a mountain looming impossibly high above them like the side of a ship.
She heard Sean say, ‘Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.’
Sean’s and Greta’s hands were torn from her grasp.
The basket flipped upside down, tipping out the Space Brigade like marbles from a jar and sending them plunging thousands of feet to the mountain below.
29
Once again, Nicola’s arms and legs flailed as she plummeted through the air, only this time she wasn’t going to land in an icy river. This time she was going to land face-first on that icy, snow-covered mountain rushing up to meet her. This time there was no way she could survive (and by the way, how dare Greta say she was annoying? Now she would never have the chance to answer her back!). This time her nose was probably going to be smashed to smithereens, which would presumably be EXTREMELY painful. This time –
KERPOW!
Before any part of Nicola actually hit the ground, something exploded all around her. Something huge and rubbery and damp-smelling.
She held her breath, waiting for the terrible pain.
Which part of her was hurt or broken?
No part, as far as she could tell . . .
She was fine. She was alive!
I just survived a fall from a hot-air balloon.
Nicola took a shaky breath.
I JUST SURVIVED A FALL FROM A HOT-AIR BALLOON! It was unbelievable.
Her whole face had been scrunched up tight in preparation for hitting the ground. Slowly, carefully, she unscrunched it and opened her eyes.
Her bubble-jacket had been transformed into a gigantic round rubber ball from which only her head protruded like a tortoise. The ball was rolling backwards and forwards on the spot. She tried to move her arms and legs and found that she was trapped within the ball, exactly as the notice had said she would be. Well, she couldn’t complain. The bubble-jacket had done its job and saved her life.
She looked up and saw she’d landed underneath some sort of rocky ledge that protected her from the hurricane. She could hear the wind still howling and the rain pounding. She wondered where the others had landed. Were they all safe? Had all their bubble-jackets worked? She hoped Shimlara had put hers on properly. Sometimes she could be a bit slap-dash with that sort of thing.
Her nose was itchy and because her arms were trapped she couldn’t scratch it. She tried to drop her face forward to rub it on the edge of the ball, but she couldn’t bend her neck far enough.
Well, it was only an itchy nose. She could cope with an itchy nose.
Oh, but this was unbearable.
She twitched her nose and shook her head.
It was excruciating. It was worse than the Biter wound on her arm (which was now aching quite painfully thanks to all the smashing about in the hot-air balloon). If she didn’t scratch her nose within the next five seconds she would explode.
Her rubber ball rolled forward. Nicola glanced down and forgot all about her itchy nose.
Oh . . . my . . . goodness.
The ball rolled back again and Nicola wondered if she’d imagined what she’d just seen. She wished her hands were free so she could rub her eyes. She blinked and shook her head to clear it. Surely not. It couldn’t be possible. I could not be that unlucky.
The ball rolled forward again.
Nicola looked down. She heard herself make a strange squeaky sound like a mouse being suffocated.
She hadn’t imagined it.
She had landed on a rocky shelf on the side of the Cloud-Capped Mountain. Directly beneath her was a view.
In fact it was quite an impressive view of the planet of Shobble. She could see oceans and mountains and tiny doll’s-house-sized villages. But views should be enjoyed from safe, comfy spots: like a window seat in an airplane, or while eating dinner in a revolving restaurant or taking photos from the top of the Eiffel Tower. Nicola could think of a million more suitable ways to enjoy a view rather than being encased in a huge plastic ball that kept rolling to a stop inches away from the side of a mountain top.
‘Nicola! You’re on the edge of a cliff!’
It was Sean’s voice. Nicola was filled with relief. At the same time she was a bit irritated. Talk about stating the obvious.
She craned her neck with difficulty in the direction of his voice and saw that Greta, Tyler and Sean had all landed close together under a clump of trees a safe distance back from the cliff. All t
heir bubble-jackets had inflated. There was no sign of Shimlara.
Nicola’s ball rolled back under the ledge. Safe.
Then it rolled forward again. Not safe. Not safe at all.
Safe. Not safe. Safe. Not safe.
Each time the ball teetered on the edge of the cliff Nicola held her breath. Then she let it out in a whoosh each time it rolled back under the ledge. She was starting to feel dizzy. Could this go on forever?
Tyler’s voice came faintly across the mountain. ‘Don’t worry, Nicola! We’re working on a solution!’
Well, that was comforting. Maybe they’d worked out a way to get themselves out of their bubble-jackets.
‘Actually, we’ve got NO IDEA what to do!’ That was Greta.
Nicola could just imagine what was happening now. Sean and Tyler were saying, ‘Why did you say that?’ and Greta was looking stubborn and saying something like, ‘Well, I don’t see any point in giving her false hope.’
Safe. Not safe. Safe. Not safe.
‘You may as well just give up.’
I know. It’s not like anyone is just going to turn up. I mean who would take a stroll in a hurricane?
‘It’s all over. Just accept it.’
Well, that’s maybe a bit overdramatic.
‘ACHOO!’
‘Bless you!’
Nicola realised with a start that she hadn’t actually been having that rather depressing conversation in her own head with herself. There was a real person somewhere nearby!
She twisted her head around in the direction of the voice. It was a girl speaking. A girl with a blocked-up nose. ‘All that work has been for nothing. NOTHING! Achoo! I may as well have just stayed in bed! Achoo! Everything is just pointless and stupid and I can’t stop sneezing! Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!’
Finally Nicola saw someone just over her left shoulder.
Obviously this girl wasn’t afraid of heights because she was sitting right on the edge of the cliff, her legs dangling, sneezing into a huge hanky. She was wearing only a plain sleeveless tunic that left her thin white arms and legs bare. Her head was uncovered and her hair was a sodden mess. It made Nicola shiver just looking at her. She found herself thinking in her mother’s voice, For heaven’s sake! You’re going to catch pneumonia dressed like that!
The Shocking Trouble on the Planet of Shobble Page 12