Return to the Hundred Acre Wood

by David Benedictus

  “He may have been delayed by agorse-bush,” said Pooh. “They do that sometimes, you know.”

  “Or a Heffalump,” said Piglet, and he shuddered at the thought.

  Then the sun went behind the only cloud in the sky, and the speckles in the Forest went away and came back again, which is what Christopher Robin had done if you believed the Rumour.

  Then Piglet, a little flustered and a little hungry, explained: “Christopher Robin has had to come from wherever he’s coming from, Rabbit, and it must be avery long way, because if it wasn’t he would be here by now.”

  Just at that moment there was a whirring sound, and a clickety sound, and a pinging sound, and there he was, Christopher Robin, just as he had always been, except that he was riding a bright blue bicycle. Everybody gasped and began chattering at the same time, which is usually quite impolite but wasn’t just then. When Christopher Robin had leaned his bicycle against a tree, he looked at them all and said: “Hallo, everyone, I’m back.”

  “Hallo,” said Pooh, and Christopher Robin gave him a smile.

  Owl said: “A velocipede. I will explain to you the principle upon which . . .”

  Eeyore said: “A pleasure to see you, Christopher Robin, and I hope you enjoy the tree stump, which is quite warmed up.”

  Piglet just said: “Ooh!” He wanted to say much more, but the words wouldn’t form themselves the way he wanted them to, and when they had, it was too late to use them.

  Roo said:“There are lots of jellies, Christopher Robin, and me and Tigger made them, and the red ones have got real strawberries in them, but if you want a green one...”

  “I’ll try them all,” said Christopher Robin cheerfully, “but I’ll try the red ones first.”

  Early and Late, two smallish Friends and Relations, pulled a cracker, or tried to, and Early let go by mistake and Late toppled over backwards. But Winnie-the-Pooh gave Christopher Robin a bear hug and said:“Welcome home, Christopher Robin.”

  Kanga said: “You must cut the cake, Christopher Robin.”

  “And make a wish,” added Tigger, hopping from foot to foot, which is complicated when you have four.

  So Christopher Robin made a wish, and everyone cheered and clapped and said: “Welcome home,” except Eeyore who said: “Many happy returns of the day,” and Christopher Robin felt glad to be back, but a little sad at the same time. Then everybody blew their horns and threw their streamers and pulled their crackers, and Eeyore pulled two, one with his front hoofs and one with his back, and the first one had a motto and a key ring with A PRESENT FROM MARGATE on it and a paper hat, but the second only had a paper hat.

  And Christopher Robin said to Pooh: “I’ve eaten a lot of jelly and two slices of Kanga’s cake, so I don’thave room for the honey. I wondered, Pooh, whether you would be kind enough to eat it for me?” And Pooh was kind enough and did.

  Then Eeyore said: “I don’t suppose he remembers who I am. Not that it’s important. After all why should he?”

  When they had eaten everything they could eat, which was almost but not quite everything on the table, because at a proper tea party there should always be leftovers for the birds, Christopher Robin made this announcement.

  “Now, dear friends of the Forest,in my bicycle basket I have Coming-Home Presents for you all, because I have missed you so much. And I have wrapped them up in Christmas paper because I had some left over from last year and I thought it might be useful for next year.”

  The animals were very excited, even Smallest-of-All, who had fallen asleep in a butter dish and had to be de-buttered. He thought that maybe it was Christmas already, so he opened his present, a shiny farthing with a wren on it, and said, “Happy Christmas, everybody!” Then he went straight back to sleep, because the moon was already shining out and it was that mysterious time between day and night when it is not easy to tell which is which or why or whether.

  These were the presents Christopher Robin had brought for the other animals.

  For Early and Late: sugar mice

  For Owl: a spectacle case, in case he lost his spectacles

  For Piglet: pink earmuffs

  For Roo: a bottle of coloured sand in a satisfying pattern from the Isle of Wight

  For Kanga: a set of seven thimbles (one for each day of the week)

  For Tigger: a pogo stick

  For Rabbit: a book called 1001 Useful Household Hints

  For Eeyore: two umbrellas, for front and back

  For Pooh: a wooden ladle for removing the sticky bits from pots of honey

  What did Christopher Robin wish for when he cut the cake? That is a secret and if I told you what it was it would never come true, but Pooh came into it, and Piglet, and the sunshine, so it was quite a long wish and Christopher Robin kept his eyes tight shut when he made it, but his lips moved a bit.

  If what Christopher Robin wished for was more adventures in the Hundred Acre Wood, then his wish certainly did come true and I will tell you about the adventures, from the time that Piglet Became a Hero to the time that Tigger Dreamt of Africa. There could well be Heffalumps in there somewhere, and honey. In fact, I am sure of the honey. There may even be a story about the bright blue bicycle, because it was a very fine one, a Raleigh, and it made you feel good just to look at it, and made you want to rub the mud off it just as soon as it got onto it. There might be other bicycles in the Hundred Acre Wood but none as fine nor as shiny as Christopher Robin’s, and no boy prouder than he.

  Chapter Two

  in which Owl does a crossword, and a Spelling Bee is held

  SINCE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN WENT AWAY Piglet had been staying at Pooh’s house because Owl was staying at Piglet’s, because—oh well, it would take too long to explain. A few days after Christopher Robin’s return, Pooh and Piglet were sitting together over breakfast at that pleasant time of the day when you know that there is much to be done but not quite yet.

  Pooh had completed his stoutness exercises—two push-ups, two pull-ups, and a lie-down—and Piglet had written in his diary: Got up. Had brekfast. Wrote this in diary, and was wondering how he managed to Fit It All In, when Pooh said: “I wonder where Christopher Robin has been.”

  “I don’t know,” said Piglet, who had been wondering too. “But he’s a bit grand, isn’t he, Pooh, since he came back and he seems a bit more...a bit more...”

  “That’s it exactly,” said Pooh, “a bit more but not too much...”

  Piglet closed his diary.

  “But he’s still Christopher Robin.”

  “I wish I knew where he’d been,” continued Pooh. “Do you think Owl would know?”

  “He might do, Pooh, which would be good, and if he didn’t he might make something up and that would be good too. Let’s go and ask him.”

  On this particular morning, Owl had settled down in his comfiest chair and folded the Ornithological Times so that the bit with the crossword puzzle was on top. On a low table next to him was a cup of tea, and he was wearing the old shawl that had belonged to Uncle Robert. It smelled a bit, but helped him to concentrate.

  The first clue was 1 Across. It read: “Big Bird (3 letters).”

  Owl scratched behind his ear with his quill pen. However, when he wrote down “EGL” on a piece of scrap paper to see how it looked, it looked rather odd. When he held it up to the mirror, it looked even odder. But try as he might, he could not squeeze OSTRIDGE or even HORK into three letters.

  “Bother!” muttered Owl, and stuck his quill through the newspaper.

  At just that moment, Pooh and Piglet arrived at the front door and tugged at the handkerchief with a knot in it which served as a bell-pull. Piglet cleared his throat. “We want to know, Owl, whether you know where Christopher Robin has been and whether he will be going there again, and when.” The words came out in such a rush that Piglet blinked several times and steadied himself on the low table.

  “He has been on Safari,” said Owl impressively.

  “What does that mean?” Pooh asked.

/>   “It means that he has been so far and no farther. And now if you would be so kind as to close the door behind you when you leave.”

  “Why don’t you come with us to Christopher Robin’s house,”said Piglet, “and we can ask him ourselves?”

  “Oh, all right,” said Owl, thinking that Christopher Robin would surely know what Big Bird (3 letters) would be.

  It was a perfect summer day and the Forest was sparkling. The cobwebs on the bracken were strung with seed pearls of dew, and the trees were competing as to which was wearing the brightest green. Christopher Robin was polishing his bicycle when the others arrived.

  “Come indoors, Pooh and Piglet and Owl,” said Christopher Robin, “because I have something to show you all and it is an Indoors Sort of Thing.”

  When Christopher Robin had finished wiping the polish off his fingers and onto his handkerchief and off his handkerchief and back onto his fingers, he handed Owl a very large book that was wrapped in tissue paper.

  “I won this at school,” he said, “for throwing the cricket ball more than fifty yards.”

  Pooh and Piglet glanced at each other. “You were at school!” cried Piglet in excitement. “I thought you were.”

  Meanwhile, Owl was unwrapping the book.

  “It’s a Thesaurus,” said Christopher Robin.

  “Is that like a Heffalump?” asked Piglet. “Oh dear. Oh dearie, dearie me.”

  “It’s a book of words. You look up one word and it tells you lots of other words which mean the same thing.”

  “Why can’t you just use the word you had in the first place?” asked Piglet.

  “I don’t know,” said Christopher Robin. “Why don’t we look something up and see?”

  So Pooh looked up “owl” and the book said: sage, hooter, bird of ill omen.

  “Isn’t sage a kind of herb?” asked Pooh.

  “It means someone who’s wise,” said Christopher Robin.

  “Indeed,” said Owl, fluffing out his feathers, and then he thought for a while, and said: “Indeed” again and “Indeed . . . hmm,” and saying indeed three times made it seem as though Owl was having a sage and wise and hooterish kind of thought. “The animals around here are not well educated, Christopher Robin, not like you and I.”

  “You and me,” said Christopher Robin.

  “Yes,” said Owl, “both of us. Just so. I expect the Thesaurus would help me with my crossword puzzle. I don’t suppose you could have a look at one Across?”

  “Crossword puzzles,” cried Christopher Robin in delight. “We were doing them at school.”

  “What else did you do at school, Christopher Robin?” asked Pooh. “And did you have elevenses there?”

  “Well, let me see now,” said Christopher Robin, for to tell the truth school already seemed a long time ago. “It was noisy and the geography teacher only had one eye and it smelled a bit of floor polish—the school, I mean, not the eye. There was math and cricket and a Spelling Bee.”

  “A bee?” asked Pooh.

  “We could have a Spelling Bee here,” Christopher Robin suggested, “if you would like to. And you, Owl, could be the quizmaster.”

  “Goodidea,”said Owl. “It’s not the animals’fault that they are ignorant.”

  That night as they lay in bed, Piglet asked Pooh about the Thesaurus.

  “It’s just a big book, Piglet.”

  “It’s not a great big monster?”

  “No, Piglet.”

  “Not at all like a Heffalump?”

  “Go to sleep, Piglet.”

  “And the words aren’t very cross, are they, Pooh?” added Piglet, shivering a little. “I wonder, can we leave the light on tonight?”

  The next day, which was the day of the Grand Spelling Bee, the sky was stormy with white clouds like marshmallow scudding across it. Near the horizon there were some darker ones which looked as if they Meant Business.

  In the clearing there was a placard slung between two larch trees. Owl had made it. It read:

  GRAND SPELLING BEE

  ALL WELCUM

  A few logs had been placed end to end for sitting on, with larger ones in front for writing on. Pencils had been sharpened and squares of paper laid ready with the name of each animal proudly displayed in BLOCK CAPITALS. Owl was wearing his pince-nez glasses, which he kept on a chain around his neck, and a tweed waistcoat which had belonged to his Uncle Robert, who had been a Credit to the Family Despite Everything.

  Rabbit and Kanga and Roo were there, and Tigger and Piglet, and Early and Late and Friends and Relations (not all of them, but quite enough to be going on with) and Henry Rush, the beetle.

  It looked like it might rain.

  “Is everybody ready? ”asked Owl, taking a gold watch out of his waist coat pocket and putting it to his ear.The watch had stopped many years ago at 3:15, which was a good time to have stopped at.

  One of the Friends and Relations sniffed loudly.

  “Use your handkerchief,” said Rabbit.

  “Haven’t got one,” sulked the young relation, and sniffed again. “Haven’t got a name either.”

  “You must have a name,” said Rabbit. “Everybody’s got a name. I expect it’s Jack.”

  Owl cleared his throat loudly and said again: “Is everybody ready?”

  Piglet was wondering if they could have a competition for drawing instead of spelling. He could draw a table so that you could see all four legs at once and that’s really difficult. And a vase of flowers on top.

  Pooh said to Piglet:“It’s all right, Piglet. Spelling is easy once you get started.”

  Piglet nodded. “Getting started is the worst bit. I expect we’ll start soon.”

  Tigger had drawn zeros and crosses at the top of his piece of paper and he and Roo were playing, but since both of them wanted to be crosses, the game was turning out rather noisy and confused.

  “I’ve won,” cried Tigger and Roo at the same moment.

  There was a dusty smell in the air, and a few heavy spots of rain plopped onto the sheets of paper. A rumble of thunder echoed around the spinney, as if the storm was considering the possibilities.

  In the sky, a flock of starlings that had been flying west changed their minds all at the same time and veered off to the southeast. Lightning flickered above the larches and another rumble of thunder stopped being side drums and became cymbals.

  “Ooh,” said Piglet, “why is it doing that and I wish it wouldn’t!”

  Owl adjusted his pince-nez and glared at the animals so fiercely that one of the youngest hid under a toadstool. “Ready or not,” Owl said, “the first word is Fiddlesticks.”

  There were groans on all sides.

  “Can you spell it,Owl?” asked Rabbit, and the cry was taken up by most of the other animals.

  “Of course I can,” said Owl.

  “Then do it,” said Rabbit. “Shan’t,” said Owl. “The second word is Rhododendron.”

  “I thought there were going to be bees,” said Pooh, and Piglet said: “I thought so too, and I don’t think anybody in the world can spell Rhodothingamajig.”

  “And why would they want to?” added Pooh.

  “And the third word is—”

  But the third word wasn’t because just then a large drop of rain landed on the dictionary and an even larger one landed on Owl’s spectacles. Within seconds the Forest was asparkle with raindrops coming down and raindrops bouncing back up.

  Christopher Robin jumped onto the tree stump and made an announcement.

  “Friends, the Spelling Bee has been cancelled, because spelling is difficult enough at the best of times,and impossible in the rain.” At this the animals cheered loudly. “But why don’t you all come back to my house and we’ll toast some muffins and make a huge house of cards.”

  “But Christopher Robin—” objected Owl.

  “It’s all right, Owl.When a Spelling Bee is interrupted by the weather the prize goes to the quizmaster, which is you.”

  Owl took off his p
ince-nez, blinked a few times, then wiped the lenses, and asked: “Me?”

  “Yes, Owl, you.”

  With which Christopher Robin handed over the prize, which turned out to be a crossword puzzle book with all the answers at the end. Owl was very proud, and also suddenly a little thoughtful.

  Then Christopher Robin led the animals back to his house. There they had muffins toasted to perfection, and Kanga spread yellow butter on them so that it melted into the crevices. For those who wanted it—which was everybody—there was jam with whole strawberries in it to go on top.

  When they had eaten all the muffins and drunk cups of tea from china cups with roses around the sides, a pleased-looking Owl went up to Christopher Robin.

  “Big Bird in three letters,” he said.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s owl, of course!” it s owl, of course!

  “Why so it is!” Christopher Robin agreed.

  After that, the animals settled down and made the biggest house of cards ever seen in the Hundred Acre Wood, with turrets and bridges and a yard for the carriages. When there were no cards left, Tigger bounced onto the middle of it so that it collapsed quite flat, but nobody minded because by then the storm had passed and the evening sun was peering anxiously over the rim of the hill. The moon was there too, so that everybody knew that it was time to go home to bed.