by M. C. Badger
What should I wear? wondered Marcus. At circus school, everyone wore a uniform. A clown uniform. It even had a big red nose. Marcus didn’t think he should dress like a clown today. He put on some jeans and a T-shirt.
An alarm clock rang. It was a very big yellow alarm clock and it was right beside Mila’s head. But Mila didn’t wake up. She just grunted and rolled over.
‘Come on, Turtle,’ said Marcus. ‘Let’s have breakfast.’
Marcus had toast with honey for breakfast. Turtle had toast with lettuce.
Another alarm went off.
‘Mila!’ shouted Marcus. ‘Don’t forget it’s school today. You’ve got to get up early, remember?’
‘Yes,’ Mila called back.
‘I think she is getting up,’ said Turtle.
But then a minute later they heard snoring coming from the bedroom.
Marcus and Turtle brushed almost all their teeth. Mila still didn’t get up. Marcus and Turtle combed most of their hair. Mila kept sleeping.
They heard the town hall clock chime for half-past eight.
‘We’ll be late,’ said Turtle. ‘We will be late for our first day at school.’
Marcus grinned. ‘No we won’t,’ he said. ‘Have you forgotten about the bed-mobile? Let’s try it out.’
Marcus and Turtle went back into the bedroom. Mila was fast asleep. Her mouth was WIDE OPEN. She was dribbling a bit.
The new bed-mobile looked very comfortable, but it also looked quite normal. Marcus was a bit nervous. Would it work?
He walked around to the side of the bed. A starter-cord was hanging down at the back. Marcus pulled the cord once.
‘Rrrrrrrrr!’ went the engine. Then it went quiet.
‘Try again,’ said Turtle.
So Marcus did.
‘RRRRRRR!’ went the engine. This time it also spat out a few feathers before the engine cut out.
‘I’ll give it one more try,’ said Marcus. ‘Things always work the third time.’
‘RRRR–WEEE!’
This time the engine shook and spluttered and the bed took off across the bedroom floor.
Mila woke up. ‘Hey!’ she yelped as the bed ZOOMED out of the bedroom door. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We’re going to school!’ called Marcus. He ran behind the bed as it WHOOSHED down the hallway. ‘I was just checking to see if the new bed-mobile works.’
The bed SCREECHED into the kitchen on two wheels. Then Marcus chased it three times around the kitchen table.
‘It works! It really works!’ said Mila. She looked wide awake now.
Marcus grabbed their bags. Then he grabbed Turtle.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’re all going to ride the bed-mobile to school.’
The only problem was that Mila didn’t know where the brakes were. The bed-mobile kept zooming around the flat.
Marcus and Turtle climbed onto the kitchen table. They waited until the bed-mobile came whooshing past again. Then they jumped on.
‘How do you steer this thing?’ yelled Mila.
‘With the bed knobs,’ cried Marcus.
‘We have to hurry,’ said Turtle. ‘Turtles hate being late.’
‘I haven’t had breakfast,’ said Mila.
Luckily Marcus had already thought of that.
Marcus reached under the bed and got a bowl that was stuck there. He handed the bowl to Mila. ‘See the two pillows?’ he said. ‘One of them is full of cereal. The other one has milk in it.’
‘Oh,’ said Mila. ‘That’s why my left ear is all wet.’
Outside, the town hall clock chimed. ‘School starts in fifteen minutes,’ said Marcus. ‘OK, bed. Let’s see how fast you can go.’
THE ENGINE was very warm by now. This meant the bed was very fast. It screeched out the front door and sped into the lift. It was very SQUISHY in the lift with one bed and three Tinklers.
Luckily no-one else tried to get on at the other floors. The bed-mobile couldn’t wait to get out of the lift.
The moment the doors opened it WHOOSHED out of the lift and raced towards the front of the building.
The bakers saw the Tinklers speeding past on the bed.
‘Stop!’ they called. ‘We have sticky buns for you!’
‘Can’t stop!’ Mila yelled back. ‘We’ll be late for school!’
‘Well, then, catch!’ called the bakers. They started throwing sticky buns at the Tinklers.
Turtle caught them. Then she put them in her shell. ‘The buns will keep my back warm,’ she said.
‘Come back after school!’ called the bakers as the bed-mobile dashed out the front door.
‘We can’t drive on the footpath,’ said Marcus. ‘We’ll knock everyone over.’
‘Then we’ll have to drive on the road,’ said Mila.
‘But that’s dangerous,’ said Turtle.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Marcus. ‘The bed-mobile has seat belts.’ Marcus had also put some motorbike helmets underneath the bed. The Tinklers put them on. Then they were ready to go.
Marcus drove the bed-mobile first. He was a good driver. He didn’t drive too fast or too slow. He stayed in one lane.
Driving the bed-mobile was fun. The best bit was the way everyone else looked at them. People seemed very surprised.
‘Can I have a go now?’ asked Mila after a while.
‘Well, OK,’ said Marcus. ‘But be careful!’
‘Of course I’ll be careful,’ said Mila.
Mila drove a lot faster than Marcus. She didn’t stay in one lane. She wove in and out of the other cars. She shouted ‘BEEP!’ when she wanted people to get out of her way.
‘Stop, Mila!’ cried Marcus. ‘We’re at a red light.’
With a SCREECH, Mila stopped the bed at the lights. Then Mila poked Marcus in the side. ‘Look to your left,’ she said in a low voice.
Marcus looked. Beside them was a car with flames painted on the sides. The driver was wearing a cap with flames on it too. The driver looked at the bed-mobile. Then he revved his engine.
Mila narrowed her eyes. ‘That guy thinks his car is faster than our bed-mobile,’ she said.
‘I bet he’s right,’ said Marcus. ‘Cars are much faster than beds.’
‘No way!’ said Mila. ‘This is the fastest bed-mobile in the world.’
‘That is true,’ said Marcus. ‘But it is also the ONLY bed-mobile in the world.’
But Mila was not listening. When the traffic light turned green, the flame car shot forward. But the bed-mobile shot forward too. Mila urged the bed to go FASTER. And FASTER. And FASTER! At first it was a long way behind the flame car. But slowly it started to catch up.
‘The bed-mobile was not meant to go this fast, Mila,’ said Marcus. ‘It will fall apart if you aren’t careful.’
But Mila kept driving fast. Up ahead was another red light. With only ten metres to go, Mila beat the flame car to the lights!
/> ‘Woo hoo!’ cheered Mila. ‘We won!’
The flame car drove up beside them. ‘Where did you get that bed from?’ asked the driver.
‘I made it,’ said Marcus.
‘Can I buy it?’ asked the driver. ‘Please?’
‘Sorry,’ said Mila quickly. ‘This bed-mobile is not for sale.’
Marcus was quite glad when they got to school. Mila’s driving was just a tiny bit too crazy. She screeched the bed right into the middle of the playground. A group of kids ran over.
‘Who are you?’ they asked. ‘And what is this thing?’
‘We are the Tinklers,’ said Mila grandly. ‘And this is our bed-mobile.’
‘Can we have a ride on it?’ the kids asked.
‘Sure thing!’ said Marcus. ‘Jump on. There’s plenty of room for everyone.’
They did a few loops of the school playground.
Then someone yelled ‘What is going on?’ in a very loud and very grown-up voice.
It was an adult. She had a coffee cup in one hand and a surprised look on her face.
‘That’s a teacher,’ said Mila. ‘You can tell by the coffee cup. All teachers must carry coffee cups. It is one of their rules.’
Marcus stopped the bed-mobile. The teacher walked over. ‘You have to stop riding on that . . . on that . . .’
‘It’s a bed,’ said Mila politely. Then she whispered to Marcus, ‘I’m not sure how smart the teachers are at this school. They don’t know what a simple thing like a bed is!’
Then there was a loud RINGING noise.
The Tinklers clapped their hands over their ears.
‘What was that?’ asked Turtle.
‘That was the school bell, of course,’ said the teacher. ‘It’s time to go to class.’
‘We don’t know what class we’re in,’ said Marcus. ‘Today is our first day.’
‘In that case you need to go to the office and speak with Mrs Brown. She’s in that building over there.’
THE TINKLERS rode the bed-mobile over to the building. The bed was too big to fit through the door so the Tinklers had to leave it outside. The bed made a creaking noise and puffed out some stuffing. It did not look happy about waiting outside.
They found Mrs Brown in her office. It had a sliding window at the front.
‘She looks like she’s in a glass case at a museum,’ Mila whispered to Marcus.
Marcus was glad that Mrs Brown did not hear this. She didn’t look like the kind of person who would find it funny.
Mrs Brown opened the window. ‘Yes?’
‘We’re new kids,’ said Marcus. He used his most polite voice.
Mrs Brown opened the door to her office. The Tinklers went in and sat down in front of Mrs Brown’s desk. ‘Where are your parents?’ asked Mrs Brown.
‘They’re at work,’ said Mila.
Mrs Brown frowned. She pointed at Turtle. ‘She is too young to go to school,’ she said.
‘No, I am not,’ said Turtle. ‘In turtle years I am five.’
‘She can read already,’ said Marcus.
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Mrs Brown. ‘She is far too young to read.’
‘Um . . . rice,’ said Turtle. ‘Eggs, milk, toothpaste, toilet paper.’
Mrs Brown stared at Turtle. ‘What?’
Mila pointed to a piece of paper on Mrs Brown’s desk. It was a shopping list. ‘She’s reading that,’ said Mila. ‘Upside down.’
‘Who taught her to read?’ asked Mrs Brown in surprise.
‘Clowns,’ said Marcus.
Mrs Brown frowned. ‘Don’t be rude, young man.’
‘I wasn’t being rude,’ said Marcus. ‘It’s true. Our last school was in a circus. Our teachers were all clowns.’
‘Our parents are in a travelling circus, you see,’ said Mila. ‘We used to travel with it too. Then we moved into thirty-three Rushby Road. But one day we’ll join our parents in the circus.’
‘You mean you live alone?’ said Mrs Brown. She looked like she was about to call the police.
‘Oh no,’ said Marcus quickly. ‘We have Mrs Fitz.’
Mrs Fitz did not really look after the Tinklers. But Marcus knew that adults stopped worrying about them when he said that they had Mrs Fitz.
Mrs Brown swung around on her chair. She started clicking at her computer keyboard.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Mila.
‘I’m just working out which classes to put you in,’ said Mrs Brown.
‘That’s OK,’ said Mila. ‘We can choose our own. We’ll just find a teacher that we like and join their class.’
Mrs Brown had worked at the school for twenty years. She had never heard a child say they would choose their own teacher. She really didn’t know what to say.
The Tinklers Three got up. They said goodbye and walked out of Mrs Brown’s office.
‘Let’s go and choose a teacher,’ said Mila. ‘I want one with a big smile. One who likes kids.’
‘I want one who likes turtles,’ said Turtle.
Mrs Brown was still too surprised to speak.
THE TINKLERS opened a classroom door. The room was full of children. Marcus saw some of the kids who had gone for a ride on the bed-mobile. They waved and smiled. Marcus waved and smiled back. Standing near a whiteboard at the front was the teacher. She had a very smiley face.
‘I like her already!’ Mila whispered to Marcus.
‘Hello,’ the teacher said. ‘Can I help you?’
‘We’re the Tinklers,’ said Mila. ‘And today is our first day at school.’
‘I’m Miss James. Welcome to our class!’ said the teacher. She asked what their names were.
Miss James smiled when Turtle told the teacher her name. ‘That’s a very unusual name. Have you seen our classroom pet?’ Miss James pointed to a glass tank in the corner of the room.
Turtle went over and looked inside. ‘What is that?’ she asked.
‘It’s a turtle,’ said Miss James.
‘Does it fetch sticks?’ asked Turtle.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Miss James.
‘Can it jump?’
‘No.’
‘Can it climb out of its shell whenever it wants to?’
‘Of course not,’ said Miss James.
Turtle folded her arms. ‘Then it is not a turtle. I am an expert on turtles. This is because I have read the Big Book of Turtle Facts fifty times. It is also because I am a turtle.’
Marcus heard a noise. It sounded like a CAMELS COUGHING. It was Simon Splatley. Simon was pointing his finger at the Tinklers and laughing.
‘Ha-ha! The Tinklers don’t know anything. I bet they don’t even know what number comes after eight.’
Turtle glared at Simon. ‘We do so know,’ she said. ‘Ninety-seven.’
Simon laughed. So did some of the other children. ‘Nin
ety-seven does not come after eight,’ he said. ‘You are so dumb.’
‘Actually, Turtle is right,’ said Mila. ‘Ninety-seven does come after eight. So does nine, fourteen, seventy-two, eighty-five and even one million four hundred and six.’
Simon pulled a face. ‘Pah!’ he said. ‘Well I bet you don’t know how to spell. I bet you couldn’t even spell “cat”.’
‘K-A-T-Z-E,’ said Mila.
‘Wrong! Cat is spelt C-A-T.’
Mila looked surprised. ‘Oh! Did you want me to spell it in English? I thought that was too easy. I spelt it in German instead.’
‘In French it’s spelt C-H-A-T,’ added Marcus, ‘and in Spanish it’s G-A-T-O.’
‘See?’ said one of the other kids to Simon. ‘The Tinklers aren’t dumb at all. They’re very smart. You should leave them alone.’
Simon pulled an even worse face. Turtle got two sticky buns out of her shell and threw them at him. One stuck to his shoulder and one hit his nose.
‘Turtle,’ said Miss James. ‘We do not throw sticky buns in this class.’
Turtle looked surprised. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Sorry. Where do you throw them?’
Everyone except Simon laughed.
Miss James clapped her hands. ‘Sit down, everyone. Let’s do some maths.’
For the next little while Miss James went through some maths problems on the whiteboard.
Suddenly there was a buzzing noise.
‘What is that noise?’ asked Miss James.
‘It’s my head,’ said Mila. ‘When it gets full it starts buzzing. I’m sorry, but we will have to leave or my head will explode.’
But Mila,’ said Miss James. ‘How can your head be full already? It’s not even lunchtime yet.’