by Alan Skinner
It was Bright, Home’s nurse, who restored Crimson’s happiness.
‘Sky,’ said Bright, ‘I don’t like to spoil your plans and it’s very generous of you to offer, but don’t you think that perhaps Reach should go instead? If Crimson does have to fight a fire, she’s going to need someone very strong to help Grunge work the pump on the fire cart. I think Crimson had best take Reach with her. There’s no stronger Muddle than Reach.’
Sky was crestfallen. Her smile disappeared. ‘I suppose you’re right, Bright, but I’d so like to go.’ An idea came to her. ‘Maybe Reach isn’t available? Maybe Reach is too busy to go?’
‘We’ll find out,’ said Wave. He turned towards the crowd and called, ‘Hey, Reach! Where are you?’
The crowd parted and Reach appeared in front of the Beadles.
‘B-B-But … she’s a – a –’ stammered Brian.
‘A bit young?’ finished a Muddle for him.
‘A bit thin?’ said an equally helpful Muddle.
‘A bit pink?’ said a slightly less helpful Muddle.
‘… a – a – a … ballerina!’ Brian finally finished.
Brian was quite right. Reach was a ballerina. Although she was only just in her teens, she was already tall, graceful and elegant. When she walked it seemed that her feet never touched the ground. Her feet moved like languid butterflies, flitting lightly above the earth. She would have been an extraordinary ballerina, except for a slight problem: she suffered from the most acute dizziness. She only had to turn her head too quickly and she swooned. A pirouette was definitely out of the question and she had once passed out trying to stand on the tips of her toes.
‘Reach,’ said Wave, ‘you heard what the Muddles are here for, didn’t you?’
Reach nodded.
‘Good. And that Crimson and Grunge will go to Beadledom to help?’
Reach nodded again.
‘Would you be willing to go with Crimson and Grunge to help?’
Reach hung her head, too nervous to look at anything except her pink ballet shoes. She cupped her hands and kept twisting her fingers around each other.
‘I’m sure you could find someone else who would be more use than I am, Wave. I’m not much good at anything and I’m sure I’ll just be in the way.’ Reach spoke very softly.
Crimson stood in front of her and lifted the young ballerina’s head until she could look right into her eyes.
‘Nonsense, Reach!’ she said. ‘Whatever gave you that idea? You’re the best ballerina Muddlemarsh’s ever had and one day you’ll learn to dance and show us all how good you are. Besides, there’s no Muddle, grown or growing, who is as strong as you are, and no Muddle more trustworthy. I would love to have you come, Reach.’
‘Really?’ said Reach. For Reach to hear the Muddle she most admired in all the Land say that to her, made her feel every good. ‘I’ll come then, Crimson, and I’ll try not to let you down.’
Brian groaned silently.
The Beadles had been anxious to get back to Beadleburg. They had agreed to leave as soon as Crimson and the others had packed. Now Crimson felt rather excited about going. She was proud of being Muddlemarsh’s fire officer. She had studied and drilled every day so she would be a good one. Yet it would be her first time against a real fire and she hoped she wouldn’t let everyone down.
Grunge’s voice pushed the thought from her mind.
‘I think we’re ready,’ he said. ‘The others should be here in a minute.’
Crimson took stock of the fire cart. The boxes had been neatly packed and locked. The ladders hung on their hooks on the side of the cart. The hoses were coiled safely next to the tank. Everything was ready. Except …
‘I think we’re missing one thing, Grunge,’ she said.
Grunge’s eyes narrowed and stared at the cart. He wasn’t a fire officer but it seemed to him that they had packed everything they could possibly pack. He gave Crimson a quizzical look, unable to think of what they had forgotten.
Crimson smiled. ‘Calamity,’ she said, ‘get Sparkle!’
Grunge laughed and gave Crimson a sheepish grin.
Calamity bounded from her seat and ran outside. Crimson and Grunge heard two short, sharp barks and a couple of minutes later Sparkle walked calmly into the firehouse, Calamity following behind proudly. Sparkle walked to the shafts, turned round and backed neatly between them.
Crimson was just adjusting the traces when they heard the bus arrive. She made the last adjustment and patted Sparkle’s neck.
‘OK, Sparkle. You can wait outside now,’ Crimson said affectionately. Sparkle gave a shake of her head and pulled the cart outside, Calamity sitting comfortably alone on the seat.
Crimson took a last look around to make sure she hadn’t missed anything they would need. Satisfied, she looked at Grunge.
‘Ready?’ she asked.
‘If you are, Crimson,’ he said.
Crimson drew a deep breath. She so hoped she was.
*
Reach liked Home’s little orange bus, but she had to admit that it wasn’t as spotless as the one she was riding in now. The Beadles’ bus was polished and shiny, inside and out. She sat by the window in the front seat, next to Brian. Glancing out the back window, she saw Home’s fire cart grow smaller as it fell behind. Even a horse as willing as Sparkle couldn’t keep up with a bus.
A stream flashed by. ‘I didn’t even notice going over the bridge!’ she exclaimed in surprise. ‘It’s such a comfortable bus.’
Megan smiled her thanks and thought it a good time to ask the question she and Brian had been asking themselves. ‘Reach, why did Grunge speak against letting Crimson and the fire cart come to help us? I know he volunteered to come, but I don’t understand why he spoke against it and then voted for helping.’
Reach’s forehead creased in a frown. ‘But he didn’t speak against helping.’
‘He took great pains to point out that Muddlemarsh might be in danger if it was left unprotected,’ Brian said. ‘I was worried that he would persuade the others not to help.’
Reach’s laugh was pretty and musical, like crystal wind chimes in a breeze.
‘He wasn’t speaking against it, Brian,’ she explained. ‘It is also the duty of anyone who will stand and say to speak of the worst thing they can think of. Grunge did that. But he was the first of us to throw his yellow stick.’
Megan nodded. ‘Thank you, Reach. It’s good that Grunge wanted to help.’ She steered the bus easily around a sharp bend. ‘It’s good that you all wanted to help. Now, tell me about Crimson.’
‘Crimson? What do you want to know? For a start, she’s my … my … friend. She’s always very kind to me. She … teaches me things.’
‘She seems like a very capable Muddle.’ Megan glanced at Brian and smiled. ‘Even Brian said she seemed … different.’
‘Humph,’ went Brian and crossed his arms on his chest.
‘Crimson can do anything. She can fix anything. Crimson is …’ Reach searched for the right word to describe her friend. Nothing seemed quite right. ‘She’s Crimson, that’s all.’
‘And not much like a Muddle,’ Brian mumbled to himself.
‘Well, I’m sure she’ll prove to be a great help to us. We’re lucky to have her near us,’ Megan said. Her voice sounded to Reach just a little … odd. Reach felt that there was something she should understand but it wouldn’t quite come to her.
She remained silent for a moment, then asked Brian, ‘Is there any clue to who is doing this? Is it a Beadle?’
‘A Beadle would never do such a thing!’ he said, shocked.
‘Brian, we would never have imagined such a thing as the blue fire was possible. But blue fire exists. Who knows what else is possible?’ The possibility that it might be a Beadle made Megan feel cold and sad.
‘It couldn’t …’ Brian started to say, but found he couldn’t finish. Not a Beadle, he thought. Never a Beadle …
‘If it isn’t a Beadle, then it must be someone f
rom Muddlemarsh or Myrmidia.’
Reach knew that Muddles like Crimson and Grunge were much smarter than she but she wished she could figure out the mystery.
‘And if it isn’t, then who? There isn’t anyone else.’ It was a deep mystery to Reach. She stared out of the window, seeing the rich forests, the lush valleys and the distant mountains. ‘The Land,’ she said softly.
Brian heard her whisper and a shudder ran through his body. Megan heard it too, and gave Reach a hard look in the rear-view mirror. For the rest of the journey they said little, each lost in their own thoughts.
‘They’ve seen us, Brian. They’re coming to meet us.’
Brian felt a sense of relief at the sight of the gathering crowd of Beadles waiting for them as they drove up Beadleburg’s main street. The sight of their friends made Brian and Megan feel cheerier. Megan stopped the bus outside the council office.
‘Whoosh!’ went the door of the bus. The crowd chattered excitedly as they watched Megan step down. They craned their necks, eager to see what help their envoy had brought from Home. Brian appeared at the door. Holding onto his hand for dear life as she carefully walked down the steps of the bus was … a young ballerina.
The crowd went silent.
Reach stood nervously at the side of the bus, aware that every Beadle was staring at her.
‘Oh, Megan,’ she whispered. ‘They’re disappointed!’
Megan rested her hand on Reach’s arm. ‘Give them time.’
‘Well, she certainly is pretty,’ a Beadle remarked to his neighbour. ‘For a Muddle.’
‘Face of an angel!’ exclaimed another. ‘Ouch!’ he added. He gave his wife an innocent look.
‘But what use is she?’ asked another, just as the chattering stopped, so that everyone heard.
Megan’s eyes fixed on a Beadle in the crowd. ‘Wilf, where are your manners? You’ll make our guest feel unwelcome!’
‘Manners? Unwelcome? What’s going on here?’ Bligh’s voice boomed. The High Councillor stood at the front of the crowd. He stared at Reach. His right eyebrow shot up. He fixed his eye on Brian. The eyebrow came down again.
‘I see you have had some success, Brian.’ Brian thought he sounded just a little sarcastic.
‘This is Reach.’ Brian tried to sound very formal. ‘Reach, this is Bligh, Beadleburg’s High Councillor.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Reach,’ said Bligh, hiding all trace of disappointment.
‘Reach is one of the volunteers who came with Crimson, Home’s fire officer,’ broke in Brian hastily.
‘Oh?’ said Bligh, brightening. ‘And where is this Crimson?’
‘She and the other volunteer are bringing Home’s fire cart. It’s slower than our bus. It needs a horse, you see,’ explained Brian.
‘They’re pulling it? They don’t have a horse?’
‘No! No!’ Brian was getting very flustered by now. ‘They have a horse. The horse is pulling it. What I mean is, it has no motor!’
Bligh’s busy eyebrows shot up again. ‘Horses usually don’t, Brian.’ He turned to Reach. Now that he knew there was a real fire officer on the way, Bligh felt much more hospitable.
‘Would you like to take coffee with me while we wait for the others? It’s imported, you know.’
‘Thank you, I’d like that very much,’ said Reach.
‘Brian!’ commanded Bligh. ‘We are going to Brew’s. When the fire officer – Crimson?’ Reach nodded. ‘Crimson – and the other volunteer arrive, please be so good as to bring them to me there.’
Bligh offered his arm to Reach. ‘You’re a ballerina, I see,’ he said gallantly.
‘Yes,’ said Reach.
‘Ah, it must be so wonderful to be able to dance!’
‘I suppose it would be,’ said Reach.
*
Calamity lay dozing on the seat between Crimson and Grunge, enjoying the sunshine and the steady rhythm of Sparkle’s hoof beats. She could feel Crimson next to her and Calamity reflected that life couldn’t get any better. It was good to be puppy, she thought. A Muddle puppy. That was the best kind.
The travellers were approaching the outskirts of Beadleburg. Already they could see the straight roads and neat rows of houses cut into the slopes of the hills. Sparkle’s pace slowed slightly as the road made its way up the hill. The afternoon sun was behind them, warming their backs and casting a golden glow on Beadleburg. It was hard to imagine that anyone would want to harm the peaceful, orderly lives of the Beadles.
‘They do like things to be neat, don’t they, Crimson?’
She nodded. ‘It’s why they don’t have much to do with us, I think. It isn’t because they don’t like us. It’s because they think we make things topsy-turvy.’
Grunge smiled. ‘You know, I never thought of us being topsy-turvy. I always figured we were normal.’
‘Do you mind being a Muddle?’ Crimson’s question took Grunge by surprise.
‘Mind? Why would I mind? It’s what I am. Besides …’ he smiled at Crimson, ‘… all my friends are Muddles. Maybe I’d mind if I could think of something else I’d rather be, but I can’t. I’m happy being a Muddle.’
‘You don’t mind what happens …? The Mix?’
Grunge laughed. ‘As long as I have two arms and two legs, does it matter if once in a while they’re not mine?’ He laughed again. Crimson felt good hearing him laugh.
Calamity sat up sharply. Her ears went up and she sniffed. Something was wrong. She gave a little growl.
‘What is it, Calamity? What’s the matter?’
There were times when Calamity found it very frustrating that she couldn’t really talk to people. ‘It’s wrong here!’ she wanted to say. ‘There is something here that shouldn’t be!’
As quickly as it had come, the feeling disappeared. Calamity lifted her muzzle in the air and gave a little sniff. There was no trace of what she had sensed before. She lowered her muzzle and rested her face on her paws. ‘But it was there,’ she reminded herself. ‘Something was there.’ Calamity was watchful as Sparkle brought them to Beadleburg.
*
‘This is the time of our greatest peril, the time of our greatest need.’ Bligh’s voice rolled from his puffed chest like a huge wave. He paused and cast his eyes over the Beadles standing quietly in front of him. Confident he had their attention, he continued his speech.
‘This is the time when neighbours become true friends, the time when the bond of friendship is forged. This is the time -’
‘This is the time I’m usually having my dinner!’ said an unhappy voice at the back of the crowd.
‘– which our history books will say was a time of great courage! When ordinary Beadles and … ordinary … Muddles …’ (the pause was hardly noticeable) ‘… defended our land!’ Bligh puffed out his chest even more. He felt a button pop. ‘These Muddles -’ he pointed to Crimson, Grunge and Reach, who felt very embarrassed – ‘these friends deserve our gratitude. Hooray for the Muddles!’ The Beadles gave a loud ‘Hooray!’ and went home for dinner.
‘Well, now,’ Bligh said to the Muddles as he bent down and picked up his button, ‘we had better have some dinner and then make some plans. I’ve asked our fire officer, Bell, to join us.’
None of the Muddles had noticed the Beadle standing quietly at the edge of the square. He had just returned from the far eastern part of Beadledom where the night before the blue fire had burned down Melton’s Mill. Bell’s face was thin and drawn and his eyes were red from a lack of sleep. Soot from the fire smudged his cheeks. Crimson wondered how long it had been since Bell had had a good night’s sleep.
‘I must see to Sparkle first,’ said Crimson. With Calamity trotting at her side, Crimson went to the stables. Sparkle tossed her head in greeting. Calamity examined Sparkle’s stall, sniffing each corner, checking to make sure the Beadles had given her friend everything she needed.
Crimson and Calamity arrived at Brew’s Coffee and Ale House just as the others were sitting down at a spacious
round table that had been covered with an elegant linen cloth. Bligh insisted that Reach sit next to him on his right. On his left, Brian was unfolding a map of Beadledom and talking softly to Bell. A chair had been left next to Bell for Crimson. Grunge sat in the last chair, which put him next to Reach.
Calamity surveyed the room. She spotted what she was looking for. Facing the street was a large bay window, the kind with lots of small panes held in place by thin strips of soft black lead. The window was framed by simple but pretty curtains. A window seat with deep, soft cushions followed the shape of the window. It was a cosy, private little alcove in which a table had been set, with two additional chairs. On these chairs sat a middle-aged Beadle couple, having a quiet, pleasant conversation over dinner.
Calamity trotted to the alcove and sprang onto the window seat. She turned round a couple of times, just to make sure it was as soft as it looked, and sat, her bright eyes fixed on the two Beadles. It certainly was a comfortable seat and she wriggled her bottom to settle it in properly. ‘This is cosy,’ she thought and gave the Beadles her best and widest smile. To give them their due, the Beadles took it very well. The smile of even the cutest puppy reveals a great many teeth, which can be unnerving for a good many people. As Calamity knew would happen, it wasn’t long before they were feeding her the greater share of the tastiest bits of their dinner.
At the other table, Brian made room and spread the map on the white linen cloth. The map was covered with small blue dots. Many of the dots had a number next to them.
‘These dots mark the fires,’ explained Brian. ‘The numbers are the dates of the fires.’
‘But they’re all over Beadledom,’ observed Grunge. ‘And some of the dates show a fire on one edge of Beadledom one night, and on the opposite edge the next night. Without a vehicle, it wouldn’t be possible for one person to travel that distance in a day.’
‘That’s what we figured,’ said Bell. He had a low, deep voice that was rough and hoarse from smoke and lack of sleep. ‘There has to be more than one person responsible. Or, one person who has found a way to travel from place to place very quickly. It can’t be by motor vehicle. Someone would’ve seen it. Anyway, to get to this spot,’ he pointed at a blue dot just near the border with Muddlemarsh, ‘they’d’ve had to go through Beadleburg. There isn’t another road. They’d’ve been seen for sure.’