Blue Fire and Ice

by Alan Skinner

  ‘Well, I am off to see Sky. We are going to see the new music pole the Myrmidots put in the square last week. Did you know they gave Wave one of those new CarryTune boxes they invented? I’d like to see it,’ said Grunge.

  Crimson wasn’t too sure why she felt a little put out that Grunge was going off with Sky, but she did. Deliberately offhand, she said, ‘Yes, I’m sure they are very clever but I don’t why anybody would invent something just to make people sing badly. I saw Wave wearing his yesterday morning. He had wires pushed into his ears and was walking along, singing dreadfully off-key. And Wave has such a nice voice.’

  Grunge wasn’t too sure why he felt a little put out that Crimson liked Wave’s singing. He didn’t want Crimson to say anything more about Wave’s singing, so he changed the subject.

  ‘Did you hear about the Beadle that Patch rescued yesterday? The one that fell in the stream? Seems he was very angry with Patch and Slight just because Nanny’s goat ran off with his trousers when he chased it.’

  ‘Really?’ said Crimson. ‘People should keep their trousers on their legs where they belong. And he should have known better than to chase Nanny’s goat. Everyone knows she loves to be chased. Beadles are very smart but they have no common sense.’

  ‘Patch told Wave that the Beadle told him that he was on an important mission to see Wave and then to see you.’ Grunge shrugged. ‘He didn’t say what the mission was about, though.’

  Crimson was surprised. ‘Whatever could he want with me? Well, if it was important, he’ll come again today. He should take the bus. Then he won’t go falling into streams.’

  Grunge looked at his wrist. Crimson looked at Grunge out of the corner of her eye. ‘You don’t wear a watch, Grunge,’ she said gently. She glanced at the large station clock on the wall. ‘It’s nearly eight o’clock.’

  Grunge glanced sheepishly at Crimson. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Well, I have to go. I don’t want to keep Sky waiting and I said I would meet her at eight. See you.’

  ‘Bye, Grunge,’ said Crimson, wondering why she felt a little angry with Sky, who was one of her very best friends.

  Grunge whistled as he walked from the fire station to the town centre, where he was to meet Sky. Home was quite different from Beadleburg. It was clean and tidy, but the streets were not straight, the houses were all of different shapes and sizes and there were flowers and gardens everywhere.

  The firehouse was on the edge of the town. A traveller coming along the road to the east that led from Beadleburg would see the neat red building and know they had arrived at Home. Grunge strolled along the curved road until it straightened in the centre of the town. Here, shops fronted the south side of the street in a colourful array, with awnings of red, blue, green and yellow, and small metal signs painted gold hung above most of the doorways. There was a gold boot above the shoe store and a golden bull with sharp horns over the entrance to the butcher’s. Above the door of the stationer’s hung a gilt pen, next to the gleaming spoon and fork that rocked back and forth over the doorway of the little restaurant. The largest sign, and the only one made with silver as well as gold, was the sign above the coffee house. A large golden cup with a silver coffee bean etched on the front marked Home’s most popular shop.

  A river ran along the north side of the road and on the other side of the river ran another street also lined with shops. Seven small bridges, each without the usual timber roofs, crossed the glistening blue river, connecting the seven small roads that ran northward from the town.

  Muddles love flowers and on every lamp post a hanging basket overflowed with flowers: orange and yellow impatiens; purple geraniums and dark red daisies; white and yellow snapdragons; and deep blue lobelia that entwined with shiny ivy and streamed from the basket in a waterfall of colour.

  In the centre of the town, next to the coffee house, was the town common. The Common was a large open park with playthings for the children and benches for the grown-ups. Oak, elm, maple and ash trees offered shade. Open spaces of grass offered room to lie in the sun or play the Muddles’ favourite game, Crickle.

  Grunge walked past the flowers and the shops, the signs and the bridges, and turned into the park. In the centre of the park was the Quad. Almost any time Muddles arranged to meet, they would meet in the Quad. There was a noticeboard on which was posted news and announcements. A small booth with a roof of yellow, blue and white stripes sold ice creams and sweet bubble water.

  He spotted Japes at the booth. Japes was Home’s jester and, with her colourful outfit, almost looked like part of the booth. She wore a suit of blue and yellow, with a blue and red peaked cap. On her feet were red slippers with curled toes, and a small red cape hung from her collar. Around her waist was a large drum, the drumsticks stuck into a band on the side. In one hand she had an ice cream and in the other she held a small golden trumpet. Japes was so busy licking her ice cream that she nearly walked into Grunge.

  ‘Oops, sorry, Grunge.’ The jester licked her ice cream. ‘Banana, blueberry and strawberry. My favourites.’

  ‘Hello, Japes,’ said Grunge. ‘Don’t forget you’re going to help me practise later.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten, Grunge, though I’m afraid I won’t be much use. I only know one rhythm on the drum and only one tune on the trumpet.’

  ‘That’s a great start, Japes! I’ve always wanted to be able to play even one!

  ‘Oh, Grunge, I have a new joke! Let me tell it to you,’ exclaimed Japes with great enthusiasm.

  Grunge smiled and nodded. ‘OK, Japes. I’d love to hear it.’

  Japes took a deep breath. Just as she was about to begin, she noticed her ice cream. A yellow trickle was running down the cone and was approaching her bright red glove. Her tongue flicked out and averted the disaster just in time.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Now, it goes like this. And don’t worry if it isn’t funny. I’ll tell you when to laugh.’

  Grunge nodded again.

  ‘OK. Now, a man and a dog and an octopus walk into Home’s coffee house. Well, it may not have been Home’s, but I think that adds a familiar touch to the joke. And besides, then I can have Whist in the joke and I like Whist and I thought that would please her. So, the man, the dog and the squid walked into -’

  ‘A squid or an octopus?’ asked Grunge politely.

  Japes frowned. ‘What did I say first time?’

  ‘Octopus.’

  ‘Right. Octopus. Octopus it is, then.’ She frowned again. ‘I wonder whether it makes a difference. I mean, neither one really walks, so the whole thing is rather silly, anyway. But, no point changing molluscs midstream, eh? I’ll stick to the octopus. So, the man, the horse – no, dog! – and the octopus walk into the coffee house and Whist says, “Hello, can I get you anything?” And the dog says, “This man can play any musical instrument” – coulda been you, Grunge – and the …’ She sighed. ‘No, I don’t think the dog says that. Maybe it was the man. Or maybe ...’ Japes stared blankly at the blue sky. ‘No, I can’t remember how it goes. Sorry, Grunge. I’m sure you would have laughed.’ She smiled ruefully at him. ‘I’d better practise that one some more, I think. See you, Grunge.’ And Japes walked through the Common eating her banana, blueberry and strawberry ice cream and trying to remember the joke.

  Grunge went on. He was quite curious about the new invention the Myrmidots had installed for the Muddles. A Songpost, they had called it, and it had been erected right in the centre of the Quad. It was hard not to notice it, particularly because there was a crowd of Muddles around the Songpost. And they were tied to it by leashes attached to their heads.

  Grunge was worried. The Myrmidots had always been on good terms with the Muddles and he couldn’t imagine why the Myrmidots would harm the Muddles. Something was wrong, he worried as he hurried to the Songpost. What’s happened to them?

  The Muddles stood as if under a spell or hypnotised. Most were just staring at the ground with a faraway look on their faces and nodding their head constantly. A few ot
hers gazed around absently, tapping their feet, their bodies shaking. Grunge ran to the nearest Muddle. The leash had been attached to the Muddle’s ears, so Grunge yanked on the end stuck in the pole. It pulled free easily.

  The young Muddle stopped nodding his head. He reached up and removed the ends of the leash from his ears. ‘Hey, Grunge! What’s the matter?’ said Coll. He sounded just a little annoyed. ‘I was listening to that song!’

  Grunge looked at Coll. Song? ‘What song, Coll? I can’t hear a song.’ Coll smiled at Grunge and put the end of the leash back into its hole on the pole. Then he took the two ends that had been in his ears and handed them to Grunge. Grunge noticed they had little pads on the ends.

  ‘Listen! Go on, put ’em on!’ he urged. Grunge hesitated, then carefully put the pads in his ears.

  Grunge’s face broke into a wide smile. Music! Right inside his head! It was a traditional Muddle song, “All Shook Up” by the Mixtures. He took the pads from his ears and handed them back to Coll.

  ‘Awesome!’ He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘Sorry, Coll. I … ah ... thought you had been … tied up … or something.’

  Coll laughed. ‘This is so cool! They have loads of stuff on this. Look!’ He pointed to the pole.

  The Songpost was about as high as your average Muddle. It was a long, thin pole with a six-sided box at the very top, and an identical box halfway up. Directly under each face was a column of small holes. ‘Nine holes,’ noticed Grunge and instantly calculated, ‘that’s 108 holes in the pole.’ Grunge had always been very fast with his calculations. He looked at the box where Coll was pointing and saw that it was, in fact, a display screen.

  ‘You put the ear pads on, decide which song you want to hear and then press this button …’ Coll touched the screen. ‘And the song comes out! Cool, eh?’

  A hand reached over Grunge’s shoulder and pressed a button. ‘How about this one, Grunge?’ asked Sky.

  Grunge turned to Sky and smiled. ‘Hello, Sky.’

  ‘Hiya, Sky,’ said Coll.

  Grunge thought Sky was probably the most beautiful Muddle who had ever lived. Except for Crimson, he decided.

  Coll had no doubts. Sky was the most beautiful Muddle who had ever lived.

  Sky was an astronaut. She had dark, wavy hair that just covered her neck, and large brown eyes with long, thick lashes. Perhaps it was the darkness of her eyes but she always had a dreamy, faraway air about her. Even in her large white astronaut’s suit, she moved with easy grace and assurance. If a Muddle wanted to know about a star or a planet or anything about the universe, they asked Sky. In a special room at the top of her house she had a large telescope and at night she would spend hours gazing at places too far away to even imagine. She studied physics and astronomy, calculus and algebra and anything else a good astronaut should study. Sky was a wonderful astronaut except for one small thing, she had a terrible fear of heights.

  ‘Myrmidots are clever, aren’t they?’ Sky exclaimed, with an admiring nod. ‘So clever.’

  ‘I’ll say!’ agreed Coll.

  ‘It’s great!’ said Grunge. ‘All this music, and you can come and listen to it whenever you want.’

  Sky’s eyes softened. ‘Some music is best listened to with someone else, I think.’

  Coll shook his head and put the pads back in his ears. Instantly, his body started shaking and his head started nodding.

  ‘Yeah, I like sharing music with friends. Do you want to hear something, Sky?’ said Grunge.

  ‘OK, let’s see …’ Sky put her face close to Grunge’s so they could read the small screen together. ‘I like that one … and that’s pretty. This is such a lovely song … so romantic … that one always makes me cry…’ She read the list and Grunge couldn’t help but notice that she seemed to like an awful lot of love songs. He pointed to the screen.

  Grunge realised they had a problem. ‘We don’t have the wires … the ear pads …’

  Sky reached into one of the deep pockets of her spacesuit and pulled out a coil of black wire. ‘I got some yesterday.’

  ‘Great. You listen first,’ offered Grunge. He took the ear pads and pushed the end into the pole and handed the other end to Sky.

  ‘We can listen together, Grunge,’ Sky said softly. She placed an ear pad in one ear, then put her cheek next to Grunge’s and placed the other ear pad in his ear. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his. ‘Choose a nice song.’ She waited for the music to begin.

  ‘What’s this mean?’

  Sky opened her eyes. Grunge was pointing to the screen. She sighed.

  ‘”Transport”,’ said Grunge. ‘What does that do?’

  ‘I don’t know. Try it.’

  Grunge pressed the screen, right on the word “Transport”. Nothing happened. Grunge and Sky looked at each other, their noses touching.

  ‘Maybe they haven’t got that part right yet, whatever it is,’ said Sky. She really didn’t care. Grunge had such nice eyes …

  ‘Beadles!’ someone shouted nearby. ‘Isn’t that the Beadles’ bus?’

  ‘So it is,’ another voice confirmed. ‘I never …’

  Grunge and Sky started at the yell, making the ear pads pop out. They turned. There, right in front of the Common, was the Beadles’ bus. Out stepped two Beadles. The first was a pleasant-looking young female Beadle. The second was a very unhappy-looking male Beadle.

  *

  At the same time as Grunge left the fire station, Beadleburg’s bus arrived in front of Brian’s square little house. Megan looked at her watch. It was eight o’clock precisely. Brian’s front door opened and Brian came out. He closed the door and waved to Megan as he walked over to the bus. Megan waited until Brian was six paces from the bus, then pushed the lever that opened the door. Brian walked straight onto the bus without missing a step.

  ‘Good morning, Brian,’ said Megan.

  ‘Good morning, Megan,’ replied Brian. He pointed to the front seat near the door. ‘Is it all right if I sit here?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure, Brian.’ Megan grinned. ‘No other passengers on this trip. It’s a VIP bus today.’

  Brian sat down. He felt foolish and happy at the same time. He didn’t feel like a VIP but he was very glad to have Megan call him one.

  The bus headed west along the road to Muddlemarsh. Megan was a very good driver and Brian admired the way she turned the steering wheel so easily and didn’t make the bus jolt when she changed gear. Megan and Brian talked while the bus rolled along the even, narrow road. Brian liked talking to Megan. He also found that he liked looking at her face.

  ‘It’s a nice face,’ Brian thought to himself. ‘It’s a kind face.’ And then surprised himself by thinking, ‘It’s a very pretty face, too.’ He wanted to tell Megan that her face was kind and pretty, but he couldn’t quite work up the courage to say it.

  Riding in a bus makes short work of miles and it wasn’t long before they could see the coffee fields of Muddlemarsh ahead.

  ‘Fifty-eight minutes,’ Megan said proudly. ‘Right on schedule.’

  Before long, they were approaching the bridge from which Patch had dropped Brian into the stream. Megan slowed the bus and drove carefully onto the bridge. The top of the bus almost touched the wooden roof. Megan glided the bus easily across the bridge. Brian kept a sharp eye out for goats.

  ‘Where to first?’ Megan asked. ‘We’ll be in Home in less than ten minutes.’

  ‘Slight told me that Wave was the Town Leader. I should speak to him first before speaking to Crimson. She’s their fire officer.’ Brian paused to think a moment. ‘Let’s go straight to the town centre. If Wave isn’t there we’ll have to look for him.’ He drew in a deep breath. ‘I suppose there’ll be a lot of Muddles in the town. Being around just two caused enough trouble.’

  The bus went on, past the fire station. Megan and Brian gave each other a quick glance as they slid by.

  ‘Well, that was neat enough. At least they take care of their fire station,’ she said, trying to e
ncourage Brian. He was very glum and didn’t answer.

  Megan thought Home was pretty. She decided it would be better not to say so to Brian, but she admired the flowers and the shop signs. ‘Not very practical, though,’ she decided. ‘So much to dust and polish.’

  As the bus neared the Common, Megan steered it to the side of the road. ‘Ready?’ she asked Brian. He took another deep breath and nodded. Megan pulled the lever to open the door and stepped from the bus. Brian followed slowly.

  Muddles gathered around the two Beadles, wondering why they and their bus had come to Home. They knew that the Beadles never let their bus go on the roads of Muddlemarsh. They chattered and whispered to each other, trying to guess what had brought two Beadles and their bus to Home.

  ‘Good morning,’ Brian said a little more sharply than he intended. ‘We’re looking -’

  ‘Are you that Beadle who lost his trousers yesterday?’ someone in the crowd called out.

  ‘The one that fell in the river?’ asked another voice.

  ‘Who was playing with Nanny’s goat?’ enquired yet another.

  Brian tried to ignore the questions. ‘Please,’ he said, ‘I’m looking -’

  ‘Not where you’re goin’, if you fell into the stream!’ quipped the first voice good-naturedly.

  The Muddles laughed, and even Megan had to smile though she made sure Brian couldn’t see it. He was clearly in no mood for smiling and she could see his face growing redder and redder. Before he lost the fight to keep his temper under control, Megan stepped forward.

  ‘Yes, friends, this is Brian, who helped find the map to the buried treasure, who rescued Weevil’s bowl from the stream and who has travelled to Home as a very special envoy from Beadleburg.’

  The Muddles were impressed. Megan continued. ‘Brian has been asked by all the people of Beadledom to come and ask the help of our good friends and neighbours, the Muddles. As our trusted and much loved Factotum, he has been given this very important task. He would like to talk to Wave.’