Uncle Gobb And The Green Heads

by Michael Rosen

  ‘… he’s got his own private helicopter,’ said Old Tom.

  ‘He hasn’t,’ said Sandy.

  ‘He has.’

  Malcolm’s Genie did some quick thinking. Uncle Gobb’s Genie, Doctor Roop the Doop has his own private helicopter? This was serious gossip. No Genie has his own private helicopter. How come Uncle Gobb’s Genie did? He swished his scimitar while carefully not looking at Old Tom and Sandy.

  ‘Gobb wants everyone to answer questions properly,’ said Old Tom.

  ‘I know,’ said Sandy.

  ‘No, not just Malcolm. Everyone.’

  ‘That’s impossible.’

  ‘That’s so everyone will end up thinking in the Gobb way,’ said Tom.

  ‘That’s impossible too.’

  Next time Malcolm summoned him, he would have to tell him all this. It was all more dangerous than he thought. He swished his scimitar even faster.

  Swish! Swish! Swish!

  But Old Tom had some more gossip.

  He leant forward and made his voice go quiet.

  Malcolm’s Genie stopped swishing.

  Old Tom said, ‘The thing is, Uncle Gobb knows that Malcolm is messing up his plans. But Uncle Gobb hasn’t figured out that the thing that makes Malcolm strong is his great friend Crackersnacker. It’s the power of the two of them working together that gives him the big problem.’

  ‘I see where you’re going with this,’ said Sandy. ‘Gobb doesn’t know, but Doctor Roop the Doop DOES!’

  ‘Yes indeedy,’ said Old Tom, ‘Doctor Roop the Doop is desperate to tell Uncle Gobb that he needs to split up Malcolm and Crackersnacker. That’s the key to everything.’

  ‘Apart from my front door,’ said Sandy and started one of her Demon Giggles.

  All this gossiping and giggling set Malcolm’s Genie off again with his scimitar.

  Swish! Swish! Swish! went the scimitar.

  ‘Hey, careful what you’re doing with that, pal,’ said Old Tom as he and Sandy made off to the Genies’ table tennis room to have a game of table tennis.

  The thing is, Malcolm’s Genie thought, does anyone else know this stuff?

  This is a mystery that is yet to unfold.

  Here is a picture of a mystery unfolding.

  Suddenly, Malcolm’s Genie felt himself being tugged out of the Green Room window, up into the sky.

  Malcolm had summoned him.

  CHAPTER 6

  A Short Chapter

  (This Is A Short Chapter Because Malcolm Is Not Very Comfortable And We Don’t Want To Leave Him Being Uncomfortable For Too Long.)

  Malcolm didn’t want Uncle Gobb to hear or see what he was doing so he was under his bed where he was uncomfortable.

  The Genie arrived, as usual, through Malcolm’s nose.

  ‘Nice landing, big boy,’ he said to himself.

  To Malcolm, he said, ‘I am the Genie of Malcolm’s Magic Nose, your wish is my wish … no, sorry, my command is … oh, I mean …’

  Malcolm whispered, ‘Never mind all that. It’s great you’ve come. Listen –’

  ‘No, you listen,’ said the Genie.

  ‘No, you listen,’ said Malcolm. ‘I need you to help me to get to America.’

  ‘Sorry, pal, I don’t do flying carpets any more. They’re not allowed by air traffic control,’ said the Genie.

  ‘No, no, I mean I need you to think up some plan that will get me and Uncle Gobb to America, so that I can leave him there, and I can meet my dad again and sort it all out.’

  ‘Hmmm, I usually do heavyweight stuff; throwing tables, that sort of thing.’

  ‘You’re not very good, are you?’ said Malcolm.

  ‘I’ve got an excellent six pack,’ said the Genie.

  It was all quiet under the bed for a bit, until the Genie said, ‘But if I were you, I would go and see Brenda.’

  Malcolm thought about Brenda, Dad’s sister.

  Why would she be able to help him get to America? He wasn’t even sure that Brenda much liked Malcolm’s dad.

  (Don’t worry that you don’t know much about Brenda yet. You will.)

  ‘And I’ve been looking out for useful info for you,’ the Genie said.

  ‘Oh, thanks,’ said Malcolm still thinking about Brenda.

  ‘The stuff you need to know is this: Uncle Gobb’s Genie, Doctor Roop the Doop, has figured out that it’s the power of you and Crackersnacker working together that’s stopping Uncle Gobb from changing everyone’s minds so they think like him. So Doctor Roop the Doop is dying to tell Uncle Gobb that bit of info so that he can pull you two apart. But he can’t, until Uncle Gobb calls him up. See?’

  Hmmm, Malcolm thought. So here’s me thinking how I’m going to get rid of Uncle Gobb, but if Doctor Roop the Doop gets to tell Uncle Gobb that Uncle Gobb has got to break up me and Crackersnacker, we’re in trouble. I’m going to have be very cunning. In America. When we find Dad … if we can get there …

  ‘Thanks, Genie of My Nose,’ he said, finally.

  As Malcolm didn’t seem to need him for anything else, his Genie headed back to the Genies’ Green Room.

  CHAPTER 7

  Where Is Houston? Who Is Houston?

  In the school playground, Malcolm and Crackersnacker were taking it in turns to sit on a football. This was a game they had invented to do with who could do the best wiggling on the ball without falling off. It was a kind of opposite of ‘keepy-uppies’. More like ‘keepy-downies.’

  They gave each other marks.

  ‘Six!’

  ‘Oh c’mon! That was a seven!’

  ‘No, you put your hand on the ground. You lose marks for that.’

  ‘OK!’

  Crackersnacker had been doing some hard thinking about Malcolm and his dad. So, while they were resting from wiggling on the ball, Crackersnacker said, ‘You could tell your mum you want to see your dad.’

  Then the bell went.

  After school, that evening, Malcolm sat on his favourite bit of the floor in the sitting room and poked it with his finger. Mum walked in and out, moving tea cups. Malcolm wasn’t sure if Mum knew that she did this or not. She walked in, moved a tea cup two inches one way and walked out. Then she walked back in and moved the tea cup the two inches back to where it had been.

  ‘Can we go and see Dad?’ Malcolm said.

  It was the Blurting-Out Thing.

  Mum went straight to the window. Malcolm wondered if his father had turned up at that very moment, outside the window.

  ‘Malcolm,’ said his mum, ‘I try very hard to do things right. I really do. If you really, really want to see your father, then I will try to do what I can. The thing is, we’re short of cash. You know what that means, don’t you? Mm? If we say, “Right, it’s a good idea to go and see your father,” that means we’ll have to do some big thinking about how we’re going to get the cash to go.’

  ‘What I’m thinking …’ Malcolm began to say, but at that very moment, they both heard the front door slam. It was Uncle Gobb. So very quickly, before he walked in to the room, Malcolm said, ‘We could talk to Brenda.’

  ‘Brenda?’ said Mum, and in walked Uncle Gobb.

  ‘Britannia!’ he said. ‘Britannia socks! I’ve been talking with my friends at The Cow Club and we agree that what Malcolm needs are Britannia socks.’

  Mum and Malcolm looked at him.

  Uncle Gobb wasn’t looking at either Mum or Malcolm. He was looking ahead of himself to some distant place that wasn’t actually there because there was a wall in the way.

  Mum shook her head as if she was trying to get the brains inside lined up in the right way to make out what Uncle Gobb was saying. That’s because she was also thinking about Brenda. She put that to one side and answered Uncle Gobb.

  ‘We haven’t got any Britannia socks,’ she said.

  ‘And that’s it!’ said Uncle Gobb. ‘Of course we haven’t. That’s the problem, Tessa. Why do you think things don’t work? Why do you think it’s all falling apart? I’VE BEEN TO CHINA.
Why do you think we have people running around thinking all sorts of things that they shouldn’t be thinking? Mm?’

  ‘Because I’m not wearing Britannia socks?’ Malcolm said.

  ‘Yes, good, Malcolm. Very good. Finally, Tess, I’m getting through to the boy.’

  ‘What are Britannia socks?’ Malcolm said.

  A look of amazement mixed with contempt appeared on Uncle Gobb’s face.

  ‘Oh for goodness sake. One moment, it seemed as if you knew why and how Britannia socks would solve the problem; I was full of hope for the future and everything was looking good; then the next, it’s obvious that you don’t have a clue what Britannia socks are and … I’m in despair. You are hopeless, Malcolm. Completely hopeless. You are going to fail, Malcolm. You are going to fail.’

  At this, Uncle Gobb sat down, slumped forward and put his head in his hands, saying, ‘Fail, fail, fail, fail, fail, fail …’

  If ever there was a time when Malcolm felt strongly that his dad had to come rushing through the door to take him away, it was now. Or even better, Dad would swap places with Uncle Gobb. Some kind of magic could turn Uncle Gobb into Dad, like some digital morphing thing. And it could happen now.

  Now, now, now, now, now, now, now, now, now, now, now, now, now.

  All these nows started whirring round inside his head like candyfloss in the candyfloss machine. Or cotton candy.

  ‘Derek,’ said Mum, ‘why don’t you pop upstairs to your room and do some nice little pictures of your little Britannia socks?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Uncle Gobb, ‘that’s good. That’s very good. You’re looking good, Houston,’ and Uncle Gobb skipped out the room.

  ‘Houston?’ said Malcolm, ‘Who’s Houston?’

  From outside, Malcolm heard Uncle Gobb let out a scream. In the middle of the scream, he heard Uncle Gobb shout, ‘“WHO’S Houston?” he said. “WHO”?! I wasn’t talking about a PERSON called Houston! The boy doesn’t even know it should be “WHERE is Houston?”! Houston is a PLACE! Don’t they do geography any more?’

  ‘Where is Houston?’ Malcolm said to his mum.

  ‘In America,’ Mum said.

  ‘Dad lives in America all the time now, doesn’t he?’ Malcolm said.

  Mum went over to Malcolm and stroked his hair. He was looking at the table wondering what Britannia socks look like so he didn’t see that she was crying.

  CHAPTER 8

  Far And Few

  ‘Today,’ said Mr Keenly, ‘we’re going to do a poem.’

  The inspectors from the Gobb Education Force immediately started writing things down in their notebooks. Were they going to be here all week, all year, all century? Malcolm wondered.

  ‘The poem is called “The Jumblies”.’

  ‘I love raspberry jumbly,’ said Ulla.

  ‘That’s raspberry jelly,’ said Janet nicely.

  ‘“The Jumblies” is a poem by a man called Edward Lear and I want you to find out all the information you can about Edward Lear and “The Jumblies”.’

  JUMP FORWARD (a bit like a flashback but the other way)

  We jump forward to the moment when Malcolm and Crackersnacker have written down their Information About Edward Lear.

  Malcolm loved the Jumblies. Everyone said they shouldn’t sail away but they did. Then they came back. Well done, Jumblies.

  When he got home that night he told Mum and Uncle Gobb he had been doing a poem.

  Uncle Gobb said, ‘But did you learn it? Did you learn it off by heart?’

  Malcolm tried to think if he had learned it.

  ‘Er … we … er read it,’ he said, then he started getting excited. ‘And Crackersnacker and me found out loads and loads about Edw–’

  But Uncle Gobb didn’t want to know.

  ‘See that Tessa? That’s what’s wrong. He didn’t learn it off by heart and he isn’t learning it off by heart now for homework. I despair.’

  He slumped forward, his head landing on the table.

  Well, his head would have landed on the table if there hadn’t been a slice of toast and strawberry jam on the table. So, in actual fact, he slumped forward on to a slice of toast and strawberry jam.

  When he sat up, the slice of toast and strawberry jam was sticking to his face.

  ‘You’ve got a slice of toast and strawberry jam sticking to your face,’ Malcolm said.

  ‘I KNOW!!!!’ shouted Uncle Gobb.

  ‘Put the toast in the bin, Derek,’ said Mum, ‘then pop up to the bathroom and clean yourself up, mm?’

  Uncle Gobb stormed out, shouting, ‘I WASN’T TALKING ABOUT TOAST. I WAS TALKING ABOUT LEARNING POEMS OFF BY HEART. BUT NOBODY LISTENS TO ME IN THIS PLACE.’

  … which was a shame, because what Mum said was good advice.

  If ever you find that you’ve got a piece of toast and strawberry jam sticking to your face, peel it off and pop to the bathroom and clean yourself up.

  See? I told you there would be good advice in this book.

  So do I, thought the dog.

  CHAPTER 9

  The Raisin

  Brenda the Mender wasn’t in.

  I mean, she wasn’t in when Malcolm and his mum went to see her after Malcolm came home from school. Brenda was out the back. Out the back was where she kept cogs, ratchets, pulleys, batteries, coils, flanges, brackets, bolts, tacks, raisins, springs, hinges, joints, valves, pistons, piston rings, cam shafts …

  While she was mending washing machines, phones, hearing aids, umbrellas, remote-control model cars, electric mobility cars – including her own, gas cookers, toasters, windows … and, well, anything really … she liked snacking and the thing she most liked snacking on was raisins. Brenda’s daughter Wenda was in charge of the raisins.

  ‘Aha,’ said Brenda to Wenda. ‘You’re the raisin why.’

  ‘Not laughing,’ Wenda said.

  ‘Now, Tess,’ Brenda said. ‘I have air miles … could you pass me that knurled nut?’

  Wenda offered Malcolm a raisin.

  ‘Thanks,’ Malcolm said.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Wenda said, and went back to her sudoku puzzle.

  Malcolm ate the raisin.

  Brenda was talking about air miles because Mum and Brenda had talked on the phone about America.

  ‘But for three of us,’ Mum said, ‘that would be hundreds of thousands of air miles.’

  ‘I have millions,’ Brenda said, ‘and don’t ask me how or why I have millions. I just do.’

  AIR MILES INFORMATION

  An air mile is an imaginary present. You buy something or you spend some money and some people called ‘Air Miles’ tell you you’ve got some air miles. Every now and then ‘Air Miles’ tell you that if you’ve got ten thousand air miles you can go somewhere.

  WARNING

  If you’ve got ten thousand air miles, that doesn’t mean that you can go somewhere ten thousand miles away. You can go about 569 miles away.

  ANYWAY. Brenda the Mender had millions of air miles. Millions and millions of air miles. Don’t ask how or why.

  ‘And another thing,’ Brenda said. ‘I think Wenda and I will come too. I’d like to see that flibbertegibbet too. Va va vroom!’

  ‘It’s “Va va voom”,’ said Wenda.

  ‘Where I come from, it’s “Va va vroom”,’ said Brenda.

  ‘You’ll have to leave your cogs and pulleys at home,’ Mum said.

  ‘Can we leave that brother of yours at home too?’ Brenda said.

  ‘No, no,’ said Malcolm. ‘We have to take Uncle Gobb. We have to. We really have to.’

  A MOMENT FOR US TO THINK ABOUT THINGS

  Is this a strange thing for Malcolm to say?

  No.

  Because Malcolm’s plan is to leave Uncle Gobb in America. That is his Getting Rid of Uncle Gobb Plan.

  But – uh-uh – we also know – and Malcolm knows – that Doctor Roop the Doop wants to tell Uncle Gobb how it’s Malcolm and Crackersnacker working together that stops Uncle Gobb from getting everybody an
swering questions in the way that he wants them to. America might just be the place where Uncle Gobb will summon Doctor Roop the Doop, and Doctor Roop the Doop tells him all this …

  END OF THE MOMENT FOR US TO THINK ABOUT THINGS

  Later they had raisin pie.

  Malcolm was thinking about the flibbertegibbet. Aunty Brenda must have meant Dad. Why did she call him a flibbertegibbet? What is a flibbertegibbet?

  Wenda looked Malcolm straight in the face and said, ‘Do your feet smell?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ Malcolm said as hopefully as he could.

  ‘Good,’ said Wenda. ‘Because in America people travel about in camper vans. You can’t spend days and days in a camper van with someone who has smelly feet.’

  Malcolm looked at his feet.

  ‘Do you know where he is?’ Wenda asked him.

  ‘He’s at home,’ Malcolm said.

  ‘No, not Uncle Gobb,’ Wenda said. ‘I meant your dad.’

  ‘That’s enough, Wenda,’ Brenda said, not wanting Wenda to talk so directly about Malcolm’s dad.

  ‘Do we, Mum?’ Malcolm said. ‘Do we know where Dad is?’

  ‘Connecticut,’ she said and she looked out the window.

  Just outside the window was a big face made out of cogs and pulleys and bolts. It was painted green. ‘Their heads are green …’ It must be a Jumbly, Malcolm thought.

  ‘Far and few, far and few,’ he said.

  ‘What did he say?’ said Brenda.

  ‘Their hands are blue,’ Wenda said.

  ‘What?’ said Brenda. ‘Mm? What are you two on about?’

  Malcolm’s mum was flicking over the pages in her diary. Or her address book. Or both. To and fro. Dates. Addresses. Addresses. Dates. Flick, flick, flick, flick, flick.