by Andy Stanton
‘How does this blibberin’ thing work?’ snarled Mr Gum in frustration. ‘I ain’t got time for no riddles from the past!’
‘Oi, Nick-Nacks!’ yelled Billy, sticking his head out of the window into the dark night sky. ‘Which way round do them crystals go?’
‘I CAN’T REMEMBER,’ shrugged Nicholas. ‘I HAVE BEEN DEAD FOR NEARLY FIVE HUNDRED YEARS, YOU KNOW.’
While the villains were distracted, Alan Taylor was busy fastening on a brand new pair of goggles for his traditional ‘jump-at-the-baddies’ bit. He loved jumping at the baddies and who could blame him? He was absolutely superb at it. Yet even while he fastened his goggles he was busy teaching Polly about the natural world he loved so much.
‘Many animals make their home inside windmills,’ he explained. ‘For instance, that small white thing in the corner is known as a “mouse”. And that small grey thing next to it is known as “some fluff”. But now to business,’ he whispered. His goggles were ready at last.
‘GINGERBREAD, GINGERBREAD, RAH-RAH-RAH!’
And so saying, Alan Taylor launched himself from Polly’s shoulder straight for his number one target.
‘TAYLOR!’ roared Mr Gum in pain as the fearless biscuit bit into his big wibbling nose. The villain’s hands flew to his face and the power crystals dropped from his clutches, falling to the floor with a hollow clinking sound.
For a moment everyone just stood there as they took in what had happened. Then suddenly they all dived at once.
‘Got one!’ cried Polly, grabbing hold of the white crystal as she skidded wildly over the smooth wooden floor.
‘Got one!’ shouted Billy, slurping up the pink crystal with his long grey tongue. In a smelly flash Billy ran over to the Control Panel and dribbled the crystal into one of the slots. But was it the right slot?
Slowly the windmill’s cruel sharp machinery cranked up.
‘GOOD GUESS, BUTCHER GUY!’ cried Nicholas de Twinklecakes’ enormo-face from outside the window. ‘NOW PUT THE OTHER ONE IN, SMALL GIRL!’
‘No way, you historical roo-de-lally!’ shot back Polly. ‘I’m not doin’ your dirty works!’
‘RAAARRRGGH!’ roared Nicholas. ‘THEN FACE THE MIGHTY FURY OF MY FURIOUS MIGHTY FACE!’, and once more he did lightning bolts out his nose, it was horrible.
Polly leapt round the room, dodging those bad zappers for her very life, but Nicholas had other tricks up his face. Suddenly he puffed out those colossal thundercloud cheeks of his and He spat a big jet of rain right at Polly, knocking the white crystal from her hand.
Up towards the ceiling the crystal flew, spinning, spinning, end over end – and then all at once, down it plummeted, straight towards the empty slot in the Control Panel.
Yes! laughed the white crystal gleefully as it fell. Time to fulfil my evil Destiny at last!
‘NO!’ cried Alan Taylor, and with all his electric muscles whirring he leapt desperately from Mr Gum’s nose towards the misbehaving crystal.
He smashed it away with his gingerbread hand, and in that moment Alan Taylor was the true King Of Heroes you’ve ever seen or heard about on TV, for he had saved the whole of Lamonic Bibber from going up in flames. No two ways about it, it was his best jump ever.
But was it also to be his last? The next moment Alan Taylor was hurtling towards the slot himself, his juicy raisin eyes wide with fear.
‘Polly!’ he gasped. ‘See that thing with six legs crawling on the wall? It is known as a “beetl–”’
But his words were lost as he fell into the slot and was swallowed up in the grinding machinery below. All those cogs and wheels and cruel metal teeth. A spray of biscuit crumbs went up, his electric muscles whirred one last time . . .
And that was the end of little Alan Taylor, a teacher of the natural world till his dying breath.
Chapter 20
Midsummer’s Eve
For a moment Polly just stood there in disbelief. Alan Taylor? Gone? After all they’d been through together? It couldn’t be true.
All those times they’d sat together on Boaster’s Hill watching the clouds drift by.
All those times they’d played chess and he secretly always let Polly win.
The time when that stray cat gobbled up one of his eyes and Polly got him a new one from the kitchen cupboard. How they had laughed!
There would be no more of those times ever again.
‘NOW YOU HAVE LEARNED THE SAME LESSON I DID, LITTLE GIRL!’ laughed Nicholas de Twinklecakes from outside. ‘LIFE IS COMPLETELY UNFAIR AND SO YOU MUST GO EVIL! JUST LIKE ME!’
Polly knew that there was no truth in Nicholas’ bitter words. But she was sick with grief and anger and for the first time ever, the Bad Side was risin’, risin’, risin’ up inside her nine-year-old heart.
‘Now hang on just a minute, Bad Side,’ said the Forces of Good inside Polly’s heart. ‘Don’t you know whose heart this is? It is Polly’s and it is pure and brave and true. You can’t just come risin’, risin’, risin’ up in here, you know!’
‘Well, bad luck, cos we’re a-gonna anyway,’ laughed the Bad Side. And without further ado the Bad Side did an enormous wee all over the Forces of Good and kicked them over a cliff.
For the first time ever, the Bad Side of Polly’s heart had won the day.
‘I hates everythin’ now!’ shouted Polly angrily, snatching up the white power crystal. ‘I been a-driven mad by grief an’ now I’m a-gonna finish the job of destroyin’ this rotten town my very self!’
‘That’s it, little girl,’ grinned Mr Gum. ‘Come over to the Bad Side.’
‘Yeah,’ said Billy William, a load of entrails hanging from his mouth. ‘Be like us!’
‘YEAH!’ said Nicholas de Twinklecakes. He couldn’t really think of anything else to add so he just did a bit of lightning and impressive hovering about to remind everyone how frightening he was.
The storm smashed and crashed against the windmill, shaking it to the very foundations. But Polly’s hand was steady as she prepared to slot the crystal into the Control Panel.
‘I hates it all!’ she sobbed. ‘I am gonna do it, I swears it!’
‘That’s right,’ said Mr Gum. ‘Fill your heart with evil, like a cruel dustman eating spaghetti in front of starvin’ puppies.’
‘I will,’ said Polly in a voice she hardly recognised as her own. And slowly, as the storm raged and the light flickered madly inside the room, Polly lowered the white power crystal towards the slot.
But the Forces of Good weren’t giving up just yet. For so long as there are laughing children in the world, and hilarious cartoons on TV, and snowball fights, and brilliant pop music with tremendous choruses, the Forces of Good will rise once more and the Bad Side hasn’t got a chance.
And now, as Polly lowered that crystal, her angry hand it did pause. For what was that outrageous racket coming from outside? Was it – could it be – yes, it was!
It was the barking of a massive whopper of a dog and the braying of a magnificent donkey. And never had two animals’ noises sounded so heroic. The incredible sounds flew into Polly’s ears and crammed her head with joy and she fell to her knees as the Forces of Good rushed back into her heart where they belonged.
‘You bunch of CUCUMBERS!’ she yelled at the villains. ‘I’m not NEVER gonna go evil, so shut, I said, shut, I said SHUT RIGHT UP!’
‘Shabba me WHISKERS!’ Mr Gum shouted furiously. ‘What a bother it all is!’
And before Polly knew what was what, Mr Gum had snatched the white crystal from her grasp and slammed it into the Control Panel as hard as you like.
A flash of pink-white light ripped across the sky as the power of the crystals was unleashed.
The heavens rolled with unnatural thunder and fury. WHIIIIIIRRRRRRRR! The noise of the machinery rose louder and louder against the crashing storm.
For the first time in centuries, the windmill’s sails were about to turn.
‘We done it, we done it!’ shouted Mr Gum and Billy, dancing round an
d round the room, their dirty shadows bobbing crazily over the walls as the lightning flashed outside.
‘Come on, Billy me boy,’ cried Mr Gum. ‘Let’s go an’ drink loads of beer an’ watch the town burnin’ down on TV! See ya later, Nick-Nacks!’
And with that, the pair of them were gone from the windmill and running off into the dark stormy night, racing away over the flooded fields and meadows like the cowards they were.
Slowly, in a daze, Polly looked around her. The last few minutes had been so confusing. What had happened? Why was she in the windmill? What was it all about? She could hardly even remember her own name. She thought it might be Dorothy Epstein.
‘Polly! Polly! Are you all right?’ cried an anxious voice from outside, and stumbling over to the window Polly saw a wonderful sight. It was Friday O’Leary together with Mrs Lovely. They were sitting on a Spanish donkey and yes, Jake the dog was there too, splashing around in the raindrops for the pure fun of it.
And now it all came flooding back and Polly knew who she was and what it was she had to do.
‘Listen!’ she yelled down to her friends. ‘Like the curse does say,
‘When next the windmill’s sails do turn,
Lamonic Bibber will burn and burn!’
‘So we gots to stop the sails turnin’!’ she pleaded. ‘It’s our only hope!’
‘Never you worry, little miss!’ shouted Friday, producing a really long rope from under his hat. ‘How can we fail? We’ve got a really long rope!’
He tossed it up into the sky and how right he was. It wasn’t just a really long rope, it was a really long rope and it easily made it to the windmill, no problem. Polly caught the end of it and without hesitating she jumped from the window on to the heavy wooden sail beyond.
Lawdy Miss Clawdy, that sail was a slip-slidey old monster! The rain lashed and the wind blew like a xylophone and Nicholas de Twinklecakes kept gobbing bad weather towards Polly and I don’t think it was an accident either. He was trying to knock her off, that’s what I think. And all the while the sails were turning, faster and faster until Polly was quite certain she’d fall, just like that unlucky egg in the children’s nursery rhyme, Yolk Boy, Yolk Boy, That Wall’s Not Safe!
But somehow Polly didn’t fall. No, somehow she clung on, and soon she had the rope fastened tightly to the sail.
‘Quick, Mrs L!’ cried Polly, and down on the ground Mrs Lovely threw her end of the rope to the animals. Instantly they grabbed it up between their teeth, all three of them – Jake, Barcelona Jim and Friday O’Leary.
‘Now PULL!’ Mrs Lovely commanded the mighty beasts. ‘PULL, I say!’
And pull they did, like no beasts have ever pulled before or since. With all their might they pulled, the sweat running down their faces, the muscles on their necks standing out with the strain.
But even as they struggled, the sails made their first complete turn and Polly saw a lick of flame spring up in the distance, a lick of flame as tall as a hotel. The power crystals were doing their terrible work and Lamonic Bibber was about to burn.
‘For the Forces of Good – PULL HARDER!’ commanded Mrs Lovely and Polly together.
‘WOOF!’ barked Jake, digging his paws deeper still into the muddy ground.
‘HEE-HAW!’ brayed Barcelona Jim, grimacing as he tugged on the rope.
‘NEIGH!’ bellowed Friday, tossing back his head wildly. ‘NEEEEIIIIIGGGGHH!’
‘You’ve nearly done it!’ shouted Polly. ‘The sails are a-slowin’! Keep pullin’, keep pullin’!’
‘But how much longer can they pull?’ cried Mrs Lovely anxiously. For the brave beasts were almost at the end of their strength.
‘Hang on!’ shouted Polly suddenly. ‘Try tyin’ the rope to that enormous castle over there! That oughts to hold it!’
It’s true, there was a massive castle next door to the windmill, I forgot to mention it before. And a pyramid.
Panting and heaving, inch by hairy inch, the tiring beasts dragged that rope towards the castle. And Mrs Lovely ran over and with her nimble little hands she tied the end of the rope to the castle’s door.
And then and only then, the windmill’s sails
came
to
a
complete
stop.
And so it was done. In the wind and the rain and the howling of the storm, the sails of the windmill stood still once more. With the last of her strength Polly slid down the rope and crawled over to where the great beasts lay in an exhausted heap, their sides moving rapidly in and out as they recovered from their ordeal. Mrs Lovely sat beside the poor things, patting and stroking and making soothing noises all the while.
‘There, there, boy,’ she said, popping a sugar lump into Friday’s quivering mouth. ‘There, there, it’s all right now.’
‘Mrs – Lovely,’ gasped Polly. ‘Mrs – Lovely, is – it – really – over?’
‘Yes,’ came a voice just then. ‘The terror is truly at an end.’
And standing at the window of the windmill, gazing out peacefully over them all was none other than that wondrous boy, the Spirit of the Rainbow.
‘Friends,’ he beamed. ‘You have all worked hard together to save the day and the Forces of Good are very proud of you. But now your work is done. It is my turn to shine.’
Without another word, the honest lad removed the power crystals from the Control Panel. At once the flames in the distance disappeared and Lamonic Bibber was safe and sound.
‘We don’t need this any longer,’ said the boy, cutting the rope from the windmill’s sail with his special Rainbow Scissors. ‘It’s time to make the world glow with happy colours once more.’
And then the Spirit of the Rainbow did a very strange thing. He took the power crystals and put them back into the Control Panel, I’m not even kidding, he really really did.
‘Spirit of the Rainbow, DON’T!’ cried Polly in horror. ‘You’re gonna make it all start up ’gain!’
‘Yes, child,’ nodded the boy, though he was no older than she. ‘But look! I have put the pink crystal in the white slot – and the white crystal in the pink slot. You see, Nicholas de Twinklecakes designed the power crystals to do evil.’
‘IT’S TRUE,’ admitted Nicholas from up in the sky. ‘SORRY ABOUT THAT, EVERYONE.’
‘But by reversing the crystals,’ continued the boy, ‘they will now do good deeds instead. From this day forth the windmill will be on our side, and it will make delicious loaves of bread for all!’
‘A wop bop-a-lu bop, a wop bam boom!’ shouted everyone happily.
And from where she sat, Polly saw something that everybody else had missed. It was Nicholas de Twinklecakes again. He was still made out of clouds, but he was no longer an evil madman. No, he was a handsome young man indeed, with the merriest smile Polly had ever seen.
On either side of him stood his wife and son. They too were made out of clouds, with happy bluebirds perching on their eyebrows and smiles so dazzling that Polly had to put on sunglasses just to look at them.
‘Thank you, Polly,’ said Nicholas de Twinklecakes in a gentle voice like a soft summer breeze. ‘You and your pals are the best.’
‘Hoorah,’ said his wife and son. ‘Hoorah hoorah hoorah.’
‘Now come on,’ said Nicholas, turning towards his beautiful dead family of ghosts. ‘Let’s go to Heaven and play table tennis forever and ever and ever, or even longer if possible.’
And as the reunited de Twinklecakes drifted away to that magical place, the rain stopped falling and the storm clouds disappeared. And the moon rose peacefully in the evening sky, humming a jazzy melody on its silvery breath. It was going to be a beautiful night.
But Alan Taylor isn’t here to see it, remembered Polly all of a sudden. And though the battle was won, her heart was filled with sorrow.
Chapter 21
Captain Excellent
‘Ashes to ashes,’ said Friday. ‘Crumbs to crumbs.’
The heroes stood beneath a sta
rry sky in the Old Meadow yonder, down by the Lamonic River where the water rushes grow. They were burying their good friend, Alan Taylor.
Well, actually they were burying a small drawing of him done by Polly especially for the occasion. It was all they had to remember him by.
Gently Friday laid the drawing in a hole in the ground and together, Jake and Barcelona Jim covered it over with earth.
‘’Tis a sad night,’ said Old Granny, who had come down to the meadow when she heard the news. ‘Aye, ’tis a sad, sad night,’ she said again, weeping into her handkerchief and having a crafty sip of sherry at the same time.
‘Very true,’ said Friday, gazing off into the distance. ‘But life is life and death is death and Alan Taylor will never be forgotten. THE TRUTH IS A LEMON MERINGUE! He was the best biscuit I ever knew. For a start, he was the only one who could talk and run around and ride a little toy bicycle.’
‘He done taught me so much ’bout the natural world,’ sniffed Polly. ‘He knew all the names of all the creatures, no matter how great nor snail.’
‘And though he himself was small, he was a true giant among men,’ nodded Friday, ‘and I hereby award him the highest title possible – the title of Captain Excellent. Thank you, Captain Excellent, wherever you are!’
‘Yes, thank you, Captain Excellent!’ echoed the others. And for a long while everyone sat there in silence, remembering their friend.
‘But come,’ said the Spirit of the Rainbow at last, as dawn was breaking over the horizon. ‘Today is a new day and just as the sun rises, so too do delicious loaves of bread. Let us feast together.’