Uncle Shawn and Bill and the Pajimminy-Crimminy Unusual Adventure

Home > Literature > Uncle Shawn and Bill and the Pajimminy-Crimminy Unusual Adventure > Page 9
Uncle Shawn and Bill and the Pajimminy-Crimminy Unusual Adventure Page 9

by A. L. Kennedy


  P’Klawz was saying, “Ha! My teeth – SKREEEEEEEEE – are so loud the spiders couldn’t stand the noise. Now you will all go to the Squishing Room, where you will see what is left of that Pajimminy-Crimminy Unusual Uncle Shawn. Then you will squish the fun out of each other and then you will find that fat badger and squish him, too!

  At this, Uncle Shawn and Bill stepped into the room. Uncle Shawn said, “Well, you could have done better and been kinder. But you chose not to. And Bill is not fat – he is just right.” Uncle Shawn was still holding Bill’s hand, so he felt brave.

  P’Klawz ground his teeth in surprise – SKREEEEEEEEE – but then he twirled the watch towards Bill and whispered in an oozing type of voice, “Bill, Uncle Shawn is Too Unusual. Help me put him in the Squishing Machine.”

  Bill stared at the watch and his head started to swim…

  But then Bill felt Uncle Shawn squeeze his paw and heard him say, “It is not Unusualness that you hate, P’Klawz – you hate people being themselves and being happy.”

  P’Klawz kept twirling the watch while his teeth squealed at the sight of Uncle Shawn – SKREEEEEE. But Uncle Shawn just stared at P’Klawz’s hair.

  “Now I remember you – you’re Sylvester Pearlyclaws, the world’s most terrible person. And I know exactly what will defeat you – two human people who will fill this room up with the biggest happinesses anyone has ever heard of.” And Uncle Shawn walked over to the Tweed-Faced Boy and gently lifted off his mask to reveal a pale, tired-looking usual kind of boy.

  There was a little gasp and then running footsteps without feet. Then the boy moved as if he was being hugged very tightly by an invisible girl.

  “Oh, Sam,” Linvizzygirl’s voice said. “There you are.”

  The sound of his real name stopped the boy being hypnotized and he shouted and laughed both at once. “Sky, is it you? How did you get to be invisible? That’s so clever!”

  “Of course it’s me, silly! Woohoo! How good to see you!”

  “And – woohoo – how good to not see you!” said Sam. He had found his sister and didn’t have to be the Tweed-Faced Boy any more, and Sky didn’t have to keep her name a secret any more, either.

  The delighted twins produced more happiness than anyone on earth had ever known. It was such a strong happiness that it tickled everyone’s knees and reminded them they needn’t look at P’Klawz’s watch. Soon, the whole office was full of hugs and smiles and then… SKREEEEE!

  As Uncle Shawn had guessed, this was too much happiness for P’Klawz. With a last SKREEEEEE EEEEEEEE EEEEEEE EEEEEEE SPOOFFF! – all of P’Klawz’s teeth broke apart into tiny pieces and a big cloud of tooth dust.

  And after the dust had settled … there was no sign of him.

  Everyone cheered!

  SECTION THIRTY-TWO

  In which everyone gets a happy ending. No surprises will happen here. Or maybe only one…

  After a while, all of the bricks from the Institution were taken away and used to make houses for the guards and inmates who wanted to stay in Pandrumdroochit. The houses were lined up along a new road called Skreee Avenue.

  Henry Witherbottom and some of the others who had been grey guards put on blindfolds so they wouldn’t have to see the Squishing Machine and then hit it with hammers until it was nothing but bits. Then they helped to paint a big new village sign that said:

  On both sides.

  And porridge cook Doreen helped to start a new porridge shop next door to the fire station, in the rooms where P’Klawz had once thought nasty thoughts and made nasty plans.

  Pandrumdroochit slowly became the friendly place it always had been. And then it kept on getting even more friendly. And Unusual. And every morning, the postman hugged his cat Jemima and she purred like a tractor, and every second Thursday Mrs MacDonald’s cat sat happily in the apple tree, waiting for the firemen.

  One warm Sunday, Uncle Shawn invited all of the villagers – new and old – to have a big party down by the seashore near the farm. There were mountains of toasted cheese and pancakes, and there was potato crumble and banana sandwiches and all kinds of wonderful things to eat. Bill didn’t cook anything at all – Doreen and the llamas and Uncle Shawn prepared everything so that he could have a rest. And it all may have looked Highly Unusual, but it tasted Unusually Good.

  Bill walked on the beach with Uncle Shawn while the villagers paddled and Henry Witherbottom knitted, and Brian and Carlos looked for shells, and Guinevere and Ginalolobrigida had their photographs taken in lots of different hats by Peter and Hamish.

  “You know, Bill,” said Uncle Shawn, “whenever you want us to do the cooking, or cleaning, you just ask. It was Too Unusual of us all to be so lazy. I myself am excellent at making spam sandwiches, ham sandwiches and jam sandwiches. And custard.”

  “Maybe we can take it in turns to cook,” said Bill.

  “Yes!” cried Uncle Shawn. “I will volunteer to cook for the whole of Limvember!”

  “That’s not really a month,” said Bill.

  “It should be.” Uncle Shawn smiled and winked.

  “But, Uncle Shawn,” said Bill, “why were you being so Unusual?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” said Uncle Shawn.

  “Well, you were hopping and sprinkling sugar on paths and making clicking noises.”

  “I was ant-charming, Bill. I was making sure there would be no ants in the llama barns, drinking the llamas’ lemonade. I had to call the ants along new paths that went around the barns. That’s not Unusual, is it?”

  “No, no.” Bill leaned against Uncle Shawn and asked, “But what about when you were hanging upside down from a tree and counting…?”

  “Well, someone has to teach the young squirrels how to do acrobatics.”

  “But why were you throwing jam sandwiches?”

  “They were for the wasps to enjoy – so that they don’t get grumpy. Grumpy wasps are a bit stingy. And you never know who else might need a jam sandwich, so it’s best to leave some about the place.”

  “Well, I suppose…” Bill wasn’t sure if Uncle Shawn was teasing him. “But what about the times when you were patting the waves and making Unusual noises?”

  “Like this, you mean?” Uncle Shawn walked straight into the sea and tickled and patted the water. “I do this so that the sea doesn’t get too rough. I am adjusting the waves.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Bill, and he paddled out into the water, too – only up to his very shapely badger knees, because he still couldn’t swim. “You were adjusting the sea.”

  “That’s why grown-ups go paddling – to make sure the sea stays the right shape.” Uncle Shawn smiled. Then he said, “BoioioioioioiWoahOOP.”

  Bill was about to ask him why when he felt hands grab his ankles very quickly and pull him deeper into the water until – oh dear! – he was on his back and bits of sea were going up his stripy nose and then he saw – oh, even more dear! – the face of P’Klawz looking at him from under the water and glaring with his nasty, cruel eyes.

  OH NO!

  While water gurgled in Bill’s ears, he realized that P’Klawz must have run away when no one could see him because of the cloud of powdered teeth. Then he must have hidden himself somewhere. Bill saw in P’Klawz’s eyes that it must have been somewhere with lots of room to get angrier than ever.

  Bill was holding his breath, but he couldn’t for much longer.

  (And P’Klawz really did have a certificate for underwater swimming.)

  But Bill couldn’t swim! Not at all!

  EMERGENCIA!

  With his poor frightened head underwater, Bill heard Uncle Shawn call out, “BooWOOoooAAAhbWahWupWup. BoiboiOOOOoioioip!” And he felt Uncle Shawn catch hold of his arms and start pulling them.

  But with P’Klawz still pulling his feet, this meant Bill was not just underwater, but being stretched underwater! And he could see P’Klawz was smiling with no teeth and saying in a bubbly voice, “You made my teeth ethplode. You ruined my planth! Revenge!”
<
br />   Then out of the thick, dark water, there appeared a gargantunormous pair of eyes. The eyes winked at Bill as if they had met before. (They had.) Then the eyes stared very hard at P’Klawz.

  And P’Klawz saw them and said in a bubbly voice, “Ahhhh!”

  P’Klawz let go of Bill and then the fake doctor started to swim much faster than he did on the day when he won his only real certificate.

  Uncle Shawn’s strong hands pulled Bill up out of the water and patted his back and smoothed his ears. “You’re safe now, Bill.”

  “Oh, Uncle Shawn, Uncle Shawn!” coughed Bill. “I’ve seen those eyes before! They told me a joke!”

  And Uncle Shawn laughed. “Of course. Those are the eyes of my good friend Mr Hubb, who is a whale. We often have chats in Whalese.”

  “Nonsenth! You can’t talk to whaleth! There’s no thuch thing as Whalethe!” shouted P’Klawz, who was so furious with Uncle Shawn that he couldn’t help coming to the surface to yell more insults. “You’re a fat, little badger!” But, as our pals watched, the great big eyes of Mr Hubb got closer and closer to P’Klawz – and so did his great big mouth…

  Mr Hubb the whale swallowed Sylvester Pearlyclaws the Unusually Nasty man who pretended to be Dr P’Klawz, even though that wasn’t his name and he wasn’t a doctor.

  “I don’t like thith!” said P’Klawz, his voice rather muffled because of being inside a whale. “I hate you all!”

  The whale turned round in the water and flipped his great big tail goodbye and then swam away.

  “I’ll be back!”

  “Goodness,” said Bill. “That was Unusual.”

  “Maybe a little,” said Uncle Shawn. “But then again, Mr Hubb comes here a lot because I tell him jokes. All whales enjoy jokes.”

  “Do you think P’Klawz will be all right?”

  “Oh, about as all right as he ever could be. Mr Hubb will swim far away, and by the time he spits him out (I’m sure he tastes very bad and sour) P’Klawz might have learned to be nicer. Or he might at least have learned some jokes.”

  And for a while, Bill and Uncle Shawn watched Sam dancing with the bit of thin air that was actually Sky, her footsteps showing along the sand.

  “I’m here!” Sky shouted, delighted.

  “You’re there!” shouted Sam.

  And while Sky hugged her brother and Ginalolobrigida trotted over to see what the fuss was about, tossing her glossy fur in the breeze like a real film star, Sam made sure to sound a bit like a pirate being happy. “Woo-hoo! Avast! Shiver me timbers! Hooray, hooray, hooray!”

  SECTION THIRTY-THREE

  In which everyone on Uncle Shawn’s llama farm, way up on the sunny side of Scotland, is so happy their toes feel ticklish. The sea is winking at the sun and the sky is as blue as blueberry jam in a big blue bucket. It really couldn’t be a better end to the day for everyone.

  Later, much later, everyone danced the Clog and Smock Dance to “This Badgers Gotta Move” – especially Bill, who was not a shy dancer any more. Then everyone went home to bed. The llamas went back to the llama barns and Carlos was nice to Guinevere, and Guinevere was kind to Carlos, and Ginalolobrigida Llama was just as fond of herself as she ever had been.

  And when Brian got back to his barn, he found there was a message written in spider silk that said:

  This was a little Unusual. But there’s nothing wrong with being a little Unusual. And sometimes Brian would wake up at night and see friendly spider eyes winking at him, and he would try to be brave about having a spider in his barn. “Because I am a brave llama who helped rescue Uncle Shawn. And so did the spiders.”

  And Mr Hubb was already out at sea, sleeping on the ocean bed – and maybe P’Klawz was asleep, too.

  And Sam and Sky were dreaming in spare beds in the farmhouse – which always had room for guests, especially Unusual guests. There was a dent where Sky’s invisible head rested on her pillow.

  After all their Unusual adventures, Uncle Shawn and Bill sat watching the sun set – Uncle Shawn in his big Uncle rocking chair and Bill in his little badger rocking chair.

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” said Bill.

  “And I’m so glad to be back. I missed you very much,” said Uncle Shawn.

  “And I missed you, too. We all did,” said Bill, and he squeezed Uncle Shawn’s hand.

  “But now Pandrumdroochit and you and me and everyone can be however we want to be,” said Uncle Shawn.

  “Everyone can even be Unusual, if they like,” said Bill.

  “Which is just about usual for around here,” said Uncle Shawn. “As long as we have a lot of happiness. That’s the best of all.”

  And as the sun sank lower and lower and the fireflies started to shine and hum little songs, Bill asked, “What goes click, click, click, click, click, click, click, clack?”

  “A spider with a wooden leg!” Uncle Shawn laughed. “And what else goes click, click, click, click, click, click, click, clack?”

  “An octopus knitting socks and dropping a stitch!”

  “Or eight mice biting toffee, only one of them got a soft caramel!” Uncle Shawn giggled. “Oh, it’s good to have a best friend. A best friend you can tell jokes to and who will rescue you and sit with you and watch sunsets.”

  “Yes,” said Badger Bill. “That’s so true it’s Pajimminy-Crimminy Unusually True.”

  And they rocked in their rocking chairs and listened to the llamas snoring in the llama barns and were very, very happy indeed.

  In fact they were Pajimminy-Crimminy Unusually Happy.

  A. L. KENNEDY

  A. L. Kennedy was born in a small Scottish town far too long ago and has written books for adults and children, but mainly adults. Before that she made up stories to amuse herself. It has always surprised her that her job involves doing one of the things she loves most and she’s very grateful to be a writer. She has won awards for her books in several countries. She has travelled all over the world and enjoyed it immensely. She plays the banjo badly, but makes up for this by never playing it anywhere near anyone else.

  GEMMA CORRELL

  Gemma Correll is a cartoonist, writer, illustrator and all-round small person. She is author of A Pug’s Guide to Etiquette and Doodling for Dog People, and the illustrator of Pig and Pug by Lynne Berry, Being a Girl by Hayley Long and The Trials of Ruby P. Baxter (among other things). Her illustrations look like a five-year-old drew them because she hires one to do all her work for her. She pays him in fudge. His name is Alan.

  First published 2018 by Walker Books Ltd

  87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ

  Text © 2018 A. L. Kennedy • Illustrations © 2018 Gemma Correll

  The right of A. L. Kennedy and Gemma Correll to be identified as author and illustrator respectively of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data: a catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978-1-4063-8228-0 (ePub)

  www.walker.co.uk

 

 

 


‹ Prev