They Didn't Teach THIS in Worm School!
Page 7
166
Laurence didn’t say
anything for a while.
Then he said,
“That’s the
nicest thing
that anyone
has ever said
to me.”
I felt a warm
glow. I’d said something nice without even
trying or lying.
Laurence looked at me and said, “I thought
that I’d only be happy if I moved to Lake Nakuru
in Kenya and made friends with flamingos. But
these last few days, I’ve been happier than I’ve
ever been before. I’m not in Kenya, and I’m not a
flamingo. But I didn’t need to be a flamingo; I just
needed a friend. And you’re my friend. Thank you,
friend.”
“That’s OK, friend,” I said.
This conversation was getting to be too much
for me. I had that soda-in-the-head feeling again.
It was too embarrassing for us to look at each
other, and I was beginning to feel dizzy and sick.
We both stared straight ahead.
A pigeon was standing on a sandwich that had
fallen on the ground. He pecked at it hurriedly
before any of the other pigeons spotted it. It was
an egg salad sandwich.
“Do you want to come to my
house for dinner later?”
Laurence asked.
168
“What will you be making?” I asked.
I wondered what the pigeon would be having
for dinner. Maybe it would be another sandwich.
“Mashed potatoes.”
Mashed potatoes are one of my favorites.
“Yes, please, Laurence,” I said.
It didn’t take us three days to fly back from
“Lake Nakuru National Park” to Laurence’s
house, but it might have if Tanya hadn’t spotted
us as we took off. We had been about to fly
in the wrong direction.
Chapter
Thirteen
170
Tanya ended up coming for dinner, and
Laurence invited his neighbors Lizzie,
Bernard, and Shakira — and that pigeon.
His name was Sebastian.
Laurence wasn’t used to having
dinner parties. He started panicking
in the kitchen and then ended up
making too many mashed potatoes.
The extra potato was enough to make a
mashed-potato bed. Laurence slept in it
that night and said that it was the most
comfortable bed in the world.
172
When I met Laurence for the first time, he had
his beak wide open, ready to eat me. I didn’t stop
to wonder if he might be kind and thoughtful
and have a penchant for cheese-and-mustard
sandwiches. No, I just wanted to get as far away
as I could from the beaky fluffball. I was perfectly
content with my life, hidden under the ground,
digging worm tunnels in the dark.
And when Laurence
met me, he didn’t stop to
wonder if I might be the
sort of worm who would
care about the things that
he cared about. No, he just
saw a tasty breakfast.
We were very lucky
that we’d had a conversation about our hobbies.
If it hasn’t been for that, then we wouldn’t have
discovered that we could do things together
that were impossible on our own.
173
And if Laurence hadn’t met me, he would
probably still be at home, sitting on his sofa like a
blob of mashed potatoes and thinking about his
dreams but not doing anything about them. All
of his life he had dreamed about faraway places.
With Laurence, I can fly.
w
o
o
-
h
o
o!
It was only when he met me and we left his
birdhouse for Lake Nakuru that he became
a courageous adventurer.
In the end, we didn’t make it to Lake
Nakuru, or to France, or even farther than
three miles away from the birdhouse.
But we did have an adventure. We
discovered those transmission towers, and
that was probably just as good as seeing the
Eiffel Tower. We escaped
from a cooking
pot and rode
a giraffe.
175
Laurence did a dance in front of everyone
without worrying about what anyone thought
about him. He even rescued a worm, Gwenda —
who didn’t really want to be rescued, but it was
the thought that counted.
I chanted in a circle with weird worms
while wearing a hat made of twigs on my
head, and we both slept out under the burnt-
sausage sky, sharing an itchy blanket.
One of my favorite things about Laurence
is that I can tell him the thoughts in my head
and he doesn’t say “What a ridiculous idea!”
or anything awful like that.
The other day I told him about how I
sometimes daydream about riding a bicycle
with a freshly baked baguette in the front
basket. He didn’t say anything. I thought that
he’d fallen asleep, but he hadn’t, because the
very next day he came to my house with a
big surprise.
176
He had an actual bicycle for me, with a basket
on the front! It wasn’t even my birthday. I love it
so much.
I did try to ride it, but it’s pretty hard riding
a bicycle when you’re a worm. So, to help me
out, Laurence rides it and I sit in the basket and
pretend to be the freshly baked baguette.
Sometimes J-Peg the squirrel comes to visit,
and she rides the bike and Laurence sits in the
basket and pretends to be the baguette.
177
Even though Laurence is a bird and I am a
worm, he doesn’t see me as breakfast anymore. He
sees me as his friend. I think that’s why he doesn’t
seem to notice the things that I can’t do well. He
just sees the good things in me, things that even
I don’t always see. Maybe what he sees is the real
me, the real Marcus. I don’t know. . . . But I do
know that Laurence is probably the kindest living
bird on the planet, and he makes me want to try
to be a better worm.
It’s hard for me to be as kind and nice as he is,
and I keep doing it wrong, but then I remember
Robert the Bruce and his unusual little friend who
happened to be a spider. It reminds me that if at
first I don’t succeed, then I should try, try again.
Thanks
With special thanks to everyone at Walker Books.
Especially my wonderful editor, Lizzie, for pulling
out all the stops to make this book happen, for her
infectious laughter, brilliantly funny ideas, dedication,
and all-round good-egg-ness. Thanks to Linas, who
also edited and is a joy and a hoot to work with.
To David and Jacky for patiently putting the words
and pictures together.
Thanks to Mirielle, Frances, Mickey, Alice, Ja
ne,
and Angel for big hearts, for being open, and for
laughing in the right places. You all helped create the
bird that looks like a chicken.
And extra massive thanks for the unwavering love,
care, and support of Tim, who has always believed in
me and that no matter what happens, like Laurence
and Marcus, together we can fly.
About the Author
Award-winning comic artist Simone Lia began
painting and drawing in her dad’s toolshed at the age
of thirteen, before going on to study at the University
of Brighton and then the Royal College of Art. She
has written comic strips for children and adults
for numerous publications, including the Observer,
with “Things That I’ve Learnt,” “The Chip and Bean
Quiz” in the Independent on Sunday, and “Sausage
and Carrots” in the DFC. She has also published two
graphic novels: Fluffy and Please God, Find Me a
Husband. Her work has been exhibited across Europe,
including in the Tate Britain. Simone Lia lives and
works in London.