The door in the mountain opened automatically again as the reindeer descended. Fuzz wondered if it was magic or technology. But he was too embarrassed to ask.
This time Legsie unharnessed the reindeer, then shooed them out the still open door. ‘Go and play,’ she told them. ‘We won’t be needing you till tomorrow.’
The first reindeer looked at Fuzz doubtfully. ‘Wouldn’t you like us to fly in some fish for the bear?’
‘I don’t like fish much,’ said Fuzz. ‘Vegemite sandwiches are fine.’
The reindeer stared. ‘But all bears like fish!’ the second reindeer protested.
‘But I’m not…’ began Fuzz. Then he gave up. What was the point? ‘I’m allergic to fish,’ he said instead.
The reindeer looked sympathetic. ‘Bad luck,’ said the first reindeer. ‘That must be really hard for a bear to bear. We’re allergic to carrots,’ he added.
‘I break out in a horrible rash if I even sniff a carrot,’ said the second.
‘And I get indigestion. I mean stinky-pooh! Big burps!’ said the first. ‘If it wasn’t for that we’d be pulling the Big Man’s sleigh at Christmas! But Christmas reindeer have to be able to eat carrots. Every kid in the world puts out carrots for the reindeer at Christmas.’
‘By the time I’ve eaten one million four thousand and twenty-six carrots,’ added the second, ‘you can hear my burps from Iceland to Tasmania. See you, Legsie! See you, bear!’
The reindeer trotted out the door. Fuzz watched them fly back down the mountain.
‘Where are they going?’ he asked Legsie.
‘Oh, probably to the gym,’ said Legsie absently. ‘Reindeer like to keep fit. Or maybe to the internet café to check their emails.’
‘Hey, have you really met Santa, I mean the Big Man?’ asked Fuzz excitedly.
‘Of course. Lots of times,’ said Legsie even more absently. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking.’ She opened the door to the house.
‘Thinking what?’ asked Fuzz as he followed her inside.
‘About those polar bears you were with when Uncle Dimwit picked you up.’
‘Maybe something has happened to make the other bears want to come and demonstrate too,’ suggested Fuzz.
‘But what?’ Legsie shook her head. ‘There’s something funny going on. And I don’t think Uncle Dimwit is the person to sort it out…shh, here he is.’
Uncle Dimwit beamed at them. ‘Had a nice time? Afternoon tea is on the table.’
Afternoon tea was pretty much like lunch. Vegemite sandwiches—even smaller this time and with their crusts cut off, in the shape of polar bears, tiny mince pies and even smaller muffins, with red and green icing, like a Christmas tree with red presents.
There was a plate of Christmas cake, too, and another plate of White Christmas, and another plate of tiny Christmas puddings, each with a sprig of holly on the top.
‘I made the polar bear–shaped sandwiches in your honour,’ said Uncle Dimwit proudly. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a nice big fish?’
‘I’m sure,’ began Fuzz.
‘Oh, I forgot.’ Uncle Dimwit beamed at him. ‘You’re not really a bear, are you? So hard to remember. Now, who’d like some nice red or green reindeer milkshake?’
Fuzz stared out the window as he chewed his polar bear–shaped sandwiches. Was Pa really out there in all that snow, heading this way?
He blinked, and looked again. Wasn’t that something moving out there?
Maybe it was Pa! Maybe he’d found him already! Maybe…
He stopped. Whatever was out there was too big for just one polar bear. It looked like the entire mountain side was moving!
Was it an avalanche? But avalanches went downwards, didn’t they? And this was moving up…
‘Er, Legsie,’ he said.
‘Mmm?’ said Legsie over a mouthful of Christmas shortbread.
‘Can you see something…strange…out there?’
‘No, I…’ Legsie broke off. ‘The snow…it’s sort of…bulging. Hey, that’s not snow! That’s a group of polar bears! There are bears out there! Look what they’re doing!’
Fuzz stared out the window. He could make out the white furry figures against the snow now. They seemed to be carrying something. More snow, he realised. Why would polar bears carry snow?
‘They’re making a giant mound of snow below the house!’ yelled Legsie.
‘But why?’ cried Fuzz. He peered out through the ice-paned window. The bears had finished their mound and were dusting snow off their paws. ‘I think they’re heading this way now,’ he added.
‘Bears!’ Uncle Dimwit jumped to his feet. ‘I knew it! They’re not content with picketing the workshops! They’re going to attack! Bolt the doors! Sound the alarm!’
‘We don’t have an alarm!’ said Legsie.
‘What? All police stations have an alarm!’ cried Uncle Dimwit.
‘This one doesn’t. Uncle, I’m sure the bears don’t mean any harm. ‘It’s statistically improbable that polar bears would attack a police station. There has to be some good reason for them all to come here. Maybe they’re just helping Fuzz’s Pa find him. Or…’
‘Huh!’ snorted Uncle Dimwit.
‘They’re up to no good!’
‘Attention! Attention, all elves!’ boomed a voice outside. ‘Come out now! This instant!’
Legsie stared at the advancing bears through the window.
What were they doing, wondered Fuzz in a daze. Why were the bears marching up the side of the hill to Uncle Dimwit’s?
Was one of them Pa? Maybe the bears had helped Pa to find him. But then why did they want the elves to go outside?
He peered at the bears through the window. The polar bears all looked alike from this distance, especially with their white coats against the white snow.
‘Attention! All elves must come out at once!’ boomed the voice again.
‘One of them must have a megaphone,’ said Legsie. She sounded stunned. ‘You know, to make their voice louder. But why do they want us to go outside? What’s happening?’
‘They’re attacking!’ screamed Uncle Dimwit. ‘Call the police!’
‘You are the police.’
‘Call the fire brigade!’
‘We don’t have a fire brigade! Ice doesn’t burn!’
‘Call someone then!’ shrieked Uncle Dimwit.
‘We don’t even have a phone!’ yelled Legsie. ‘Mobiles don’t work up here, remember?’
‘Attention! Attention!’ called the voice again, more urgently this time. ‘Attention, all elves! We’re warning you! This is your last chance!’
Legsie flung open the ice window. ‘Or what?’ she called. ‘What will happen if we don’t come out?’
‘Or it will be too late!’ yelled the polar bear with the megaphone. ‘Hurry! Hurry or…no, it is too late now!’ It turned to the other bears. ‘Right! All you bears! Run!’
Fuzz stared as the polar bears began to run, almost as one bear, loping on all fours towards the house.
Closer, closer…he could hear the crunch of their paws now, as they lumbered across the snow. He waited for them to pound on the ice door, to break it down.
But instead the bears swerved to one side, then kept running, past the house and across the hill.
‘What…’ began Legsie. And then she stopped.
The house began to move.
It was only a creak at first, and a slight shake like leaves in a breeze. Then suddenly it gave a lurch.
The teapot fell onto the floor.
‘They’re pushing the house down!’ yelled Uncle Dimwit.
Legsie shook her head. ‘The bears are nowhere near the house now! They’ve run away from us!’
The house tilted. The sandwiches fell onto the floor. The mince pies fell after them, and squished onto the vegemite.
Fuzz felt his paws slide on the icy floor. ‘What’s happening!’ he yelled.
‘I think…’ began Legsie.
But it was too late.
The house began to slide!
Down, down, down…down the side of the mountain. The furniture slid to the end of the room. Fuzz, Legsie and Uncle Dimwit slid with it, in a tangle of legs and arms and chairs and vegemite sandwiches.
‘Help!’ shrieked Uncle Dimwit.
‘Global warming!’ yelled Legsie, as the house slid faster and faster still.
‘What?’ cried Fuzz, from underneath a plate of mince pies.
‘Global warming! The ice is melting! The foundations of our house must have turned to water and…Gloop…’ A bowl of red and green jelly plopped out of its container into her mouth.
‘The bears must have been trying to warn us,’ shouted Fuzz. ‘Bears can sense when the ice is melting…’
‘Gloop,’ agreed Legsie through the jelly. ‘Gloop, gloop, glug!’
The house was sliding even faster now. What would happen when they hit the bottom, wondered Fuzz. Would the house be smashed into tiny pieces—and all of them with it? Or would they be buried deep beneath the snow?
Or perhaps they’d just keep sliding away over to the sea, and drown in the icy water…Or…
Boing!
Suddenly the house changed direction.
‘We…we’re sliding up! Not down!’ exclaimed Fuzz in surprise.
Legsie spat out the last of the jelly. ‘That’s statistically impossible!’ she shrieked. ‘The law of gravity says that things slide down not up!’
‘Who cares if it’s impossible?’ yelled Fuzz. ‘It’s happening!’
Up, up, up…
Maybe a team of reindeer had grabbed the house, he thought, just like they’d grabbed the cruise ship. But how had they had time? And there was no sound of jingling bells…
Suddenly the house began to slide the other way again, down, down, down…
Thunk! The house shuddered to a stop.
‘Wha…what happened?’ gulped Uncle Dimwit.
Legsie took a deep breath. ‘When you have eliminated the impossible,’ she said shakily, ‘only the improbable solution is left!’
‘What’s that?’ demanded Fuzz, trying to extract himself from under two chairs, a bowl of shortbread and Uncle Dimwit.
‘The polar bears have saved us!’
CHAPTER 16
Saved by the Bears
‘What? How?’ demanded Fuzz. He stood up cautiously, wondering if his knees would still support him.
They did.
He looked around. The house was still at a crazy angle—the floor was now part of a wall. But at least it had stopped moving.
‘They…’ began Legsie, then broke off as the door slammed open.
Something white and furious crashed through the door.
It was Pa.
‘Unchain my grandson, you thieving elves!’ Pa yelled. Behind him the other bears lumbered into the room—Ruff, Tuff, Gruff, Muffie, Buffie, Wuffie and Short Stuff.
‘We haven’t chained up anyone…’ began Uncle Dimwit.
‘Don’t you give me that!’ roared Pa. ‘I saw you arrest him and take him away in your sleigh!’
‘Er, Pa,’ said Fuzz.
‘I don’t even have any chains!’ shouted Uncle Dimwit.
‘Don’t give me that! I want my grandson.’
‘Pa!’ said Fuzz more loudly.
‘How dare you break in here and…’ said Uncle Dimwit stamping his tiny foot angrily.
‘You elves are all alike!’ bellowed Tuff.
‘Mean and cowardly,’ squeaked Short Stuff.
‘Nonsense! It’s you polar bears who are…’
‘Be quiet!’ roared Fuzz.
Suddenly there was silence as the bears and elves all turned towards him.
‘Fuzz!’ yelled Pa joyfully, suddenly seeing him and enveloping him in a bear hug. He stood back and looked
him over carefully. ‘Are you all right? They haven’t beaten you, have they? Or starved you or tortured you?’
‘We elves don’t do things like that!’ shouted Uncle Dimwit.
‘Do so too!’ shouted Tuff.
‘We elves are kind and calm all day long! We’re…’
‘No, you’re not!’
‘Yes, we are!’
‘Silence!’ shouted Fuzz and Legsie together.
‘Now,’ said Fuzz, as the noise settled again. ‘Let’s get this all sorted out.’
‘Exactly,’ said Legsie. ‘You bears saved us, didn’t you?’
Pa nodded proudly. ‘The bears realised that your house was in danger from the melting ice. So they gathered all their friends to help make a giant pile of snow to stop the house sliding too far down the mountain. They tried to get you out before it was too late. But you wouldn’t listen!’
‘Uncle Dimwit?’ demanded Legsie.
Uncle Dimwit blushed. ‘I thought you just wanted to argue about making toys or pulling a sleigh,’ he muttered to the bears.
‘Keep going, Uncle Dimwit,’ said Legsie solemnly. ‘You have something else to say to them too, don’t you?’
‘Er, I’m sorry,’ said Uncle Dimwit. ‘And thank you very much for saving us. I just, er, um, I just…’
‘You’re prejudiced against polar bears!’ said Pa hotly.
‘Am not!’ declared Uncle Dimwit.
‘Are too!’ yelled Muffie.
‘Well, you bears are prejudiced against us elves! It isn’t our fault that you’re no good at making toys or pulling sleighs!’
‘Silence!’ shouted Fuzz and Legsie together.
The bears—and Uncle Dimwit—stared at them, their mouths open.
‘Now,’ said Fuzz. ‘What do you bears really want?’
‘A big fishie would be nice,’ squeaked Short Stuff.
Tuff gave him a stern look. ‘Shut up, Short Stuff. We want equal rights for bears. That’s what we want!’
‘And a big fishie…’
‘I’d rather have some sushi,’ admitted Pa.
‘Wanna wanna wanna fishie!’ yelled Short Stuff, tugging on Muffie’s fur.
‘Shhh!’ hissed Tuff. ‘Behave yourself! We don’t really care about making toys,’ he continued to Fuzz and the elves. ‘Or pulling a sleigh. We just want to be on Christmas cards too! How come the elves and reindeer get all the glory?’
‘What?’ shouted Uncle Dimwit. ‘Polar bears have no place on Christmas cards!’
‘Why not?’ yelled Gruff. ‘We live up here too!’
‘It’s time for a change!’ shouted Muffie.
‘Yeah!’ shouted all the other bears in unison. ‘We want to be on the Christmas cards.’
‘And have our photos in magazines,’ cried Buffie.
‘And be on TV at Christmas time.’
‘And have movies made about us.’
‘And have people shout, “Look at those wonderful polar bears”!’
‘And eat lots of big fishies!’
‘We simply want to be famous!’ cried Tuff. ‘Like the elves and reindeer! Is that too much to ask?’
Fuzz caught Legsie’s eye. ‘So that’s what they want,’ she whispered. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’
Fuzz nodded. ‘And I’ve got another idea too.’
‘What?’
He grinned at her. ‘You wait and see.’ He clapped his hands. ‘Okay, everyone,’ he shouted. ‘Listen up! Legsie and I have a plan…’
CHAPTER 17
A Totally Bearable Solution
It was Saturday at the zoo.
Down at the rhinoceros paddock, Mum was delighting the kids as she showed them how a rhino could eat seven lettuces, six cucumbers, five tomatoes, four apples, three capsicum, two sticks of celery and a banana—all at once.
Over in the giraffe enclosure, Julie was showing everyone just how well a giraffe could do her uni assignment on her laptop computer.
The monkeys were hanging upside down from their tree house, and over in the tiger pen Dad was sleeping in the sun and giving his roar-like snores.
But the biggest crowd was over at the polar bears!
/> ‘Roll up! Roll up! Roll up!’ roared Tuff. ‘See the amazingly famous polar bears!’
‘Oooh,’ cried a small girl. ‘Look at that one juggling!’
Muffie grinned and threw her balls even higher.
‘Daddy, can I buy some more sushi for that sweet little bear there?’ asked a small boy. ‘He looks so hungry!’
‘Sure,’ said his father, giving him some coins for the sushi machine. The boy ran over; the coins trickled down and a giant serve of sushi shot out of the slot. The boy picked it up and shoved it through the bars at Short Stuff.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ yelled someone else. ‘These bears are brilliant! Even better in real life than they were on that show on TV last night!’
‘Thanks!’ squeaked Short Stuff. ‘Sushi is better than plain fishie! Hey, you want to play ball with me?
Then you can give me another plate of sushi! Wanna wanna wanna play ball! Now!’
‘He spoke to me!’ cried the boy. ‘Daddy! Daddy! The famous bear spoke to me! These are the most wonderful polar bears in the entire world! Can I play with him? And give him more sushi? Please, please, please?’
Over in another corner Wuffie was surrounded by TV cameras and journalists. Her fur had been styled by the best hairdresser in town, and her claws were polished a deep pink. ‘What is Santa Claus really like?’ she was saying, ‘Well, of course no one knows him as well as me. As I said to the Easter Bunny only last week…’
At the other end of the enclosure a group of polar bears was playing Scrabble. One of them wore a blue and white beanie with ‘World’s Best Pa’ on it, and another—much shorter than the rest—had a little red and green cap on top of its fur, and the most pointed ears ever seen on a polar bear. A big plate of sushi sat on the table next to the Scrabble board.
‘Pinguid,’ yelled Uncle Dimwit. That means plump or fat. And I get a triple word score!’
‘My turn now!’ said Pa eagerly sorting out the letters.
Wonderfully Wacky Families Page 24