In the search for food and clothing to keep them warm in the freezing cargo hold, the five monsters had ripped open much of the luggage belonging to the passengers in the plane’s cabin above them. I say five monsters, because of course one of the seven was fast asleep in Nelson’s lap and one was outside. Hoot was drifting along in the jet stream of the plane with no idea that he had been tricked into it. Ice had appeared on his gorgeous wings and silver beak, but it didn’t trouble Hoot—he quite liked the extra gleam to his golden feathers.
The monsters didn’t care at all about the mess they were making or the vacations they were ruining by rummaging through everyone’s luggage; they only cared about staying warm, fed, and most of all, curing the ache they all felt inside. The ache that would not go away until they had found Celeste.
Toothpaste turned out to be a favorite snack, and a good job too—as there was a tube in almost every suitcase. Stan had the pleasure of tearing the luggage open and it seemed that no lock or strap was a match for his strength. But filling their mouths with toothpaste could not satisfy their monster appetites. They needed something more substantial (although Nosh was forbidden to eat anything large to avoid fires on board). Nosh suggested they try some of the shoes he was enjoying eating, as according to him they were “quite chewy and cheesy,” but this didn’t appeal to the rest of the group.
* * *
Upstairs in the first-class cabin, Nelson was enjoying a very different flight experience. He had just finished the most delicious feast he could ever remember seeing, let alone eating. Tomato soup with slices of oozing garlic bread, followed by roast chicken, peas, and creamy potatoes, and for dessert a crème brûlée and a box of chocolates. This more than made up for the antique toast and stale Scotch egg! He’d fed the complimentary olives and pistachio nuts to Crush, who now dozed contentedly beside him. It felt like ages since Nelson had last had a decent meal or a good night’s sleep, so it was hardly surprising that he had nodded off by the time the Playmobil steward had come to take his tray away. Completely buried beneath the sumptuous duvet, the hum of the aircraft in his ears and a purring monster by his side, Nelson forgot all about the fact that he was on a rescue mission and currently dressed as a movie producer called Donna Gatsky, and instead he fell into a sleep as deep as the plane was high.
* * *
Meanwhile, back at Heathrow Airport, Brian sat in a plastic chair with his wide bulging eyes staring blankly ahead and his hands on the table in front of him like a selection of sausages in a dodgy butcher’s window. The security officers had decided to leave him alone in the small windowless room for a minute in order to get a cup of tea and discuss how they could get this strange, silent man to explain himself.
As the security agents pondered this question and waited for their tea to brew, an almighty explosion rocked their offices, shattering windows, crumbling polystyrene ceiling tiles like crackers, and knocking people right off their feet.
It was a miracle no one was hurt, but harming anyone had never been Brian’s intention. He had had only one thing in mind when he opened his little clay pot and swallowed the Bang Stone: to be ready and waiting when that boy arrived in Brazil.
* * *
“Nelson! Help!” cried Celeste. She was hanging on for dear life to the open door of the plane, but Nelson could not reach her because his seat belt was holding him back.
“Celeste! I’m trying!” shouted Nelson as he squirmed to be free of the belt. “Help!” he called, but none of the other passengers or stewards had noticed that the door was wide open and a girl was hanging out of it.
“Is the belt too tight?” asked the steward with the thickly gelled hair.
“Yes! I’ve got to get out! My sister! She’s going to fall out of the plane!” yelled Nelson.
“No need to shout. It’s very easy. You just lift this buckle…” said the steward calmly, but instead of releasing Nelson, he tightened the belt’s grip. Nelson looked up into the steward’s face and was met by a set of bulging eyes, white and watery like those of a dead fish.
Nelson would have screamed, but his sister had beaten him to it. She lost her grip and fell. Ripped away by the wind into nothingness. Gone forever.
* * *
Nelson woke with a gasp to find he was still wearing dark sunglasses and the steward with the gelled hair really was trying to tighten his seat belt.
“What are you doing?” said Nelson, which would have completely given away the fact that he was not an American woman called Donna Gatsky but a small British boy, had it not been for the fact that the plane was shaking wildly and the captain was addressing the passengers too loudly over the speakers for Nelson to be heard.
“… slight turbulence. Nothing to worry about. Please return to your seats and make sure your seat belt is securely fastened,” came the announcement, and the steward moved around the first-class cabin to make sure all of his passengers were following the captain’s orders.
As the plane lurched and shook, Nelson lifted the duvet to see if Crush had woken, only to find that Crush wasn’t there.
The plane shook again and the overhead luggage compartments rattled and creaked as if about to drop.
This is bad, thought Nelson, who was still recovering from his terrible nightmare.
Again the plane trembled so violently that even the seasoned passengers around him gripped their armrests with white knuckles. The turbulence caused a stewardess carrying a tray of drinks to crumple against the bathroom door, spilling the drinks all over herself. Though she would have been trained to exude calmness at all times, Nelson saw a flash of fear in her eyes as the plane shook once again, like a toy in the hands of an unruly toddler.
“Hooooonk” came the familiar sound of Crush. Nelson looked under his chair and there was the monster, rocking backward and forward with fear.
“It’s all right, Crush,” said Nelson, but it was clear from the wobble in his voice he didn’t really believe what he was saying.
* * *
The reason for the turbulence was not the air outside the plane but chocolate. Fruit-and-nut chocolate, to be precise, and someone on board had a relative who loved it so much that they had packed twelve extra-large bars in their luggage. Nosh had discovered the stash and shared it with the other monsters. Not only did it satisfy all of their empty stomachs, it sent them gaga. They were bouncing around the cargo hold like toddlers. Nosh was rolling all over the place trying to knock down the other monsters, Miser was swinging from the ceiling and hurling luggage with his feet at Stan, who was punching each item as far as he could. Even Puff was wide awake and bouncing on a dinghy he had just inflated with one of his toxic farts. The only one who didn’t really join in was Spike, who was picking his way through the luggage, looking for slippers to try on.
Though the captain had clearly stated this was caused by air turbulence, Nelson could hear the unmistakable roar of his monsters coming from below. They were going berserk down there. From the crashing and bashing he could hear, he thought they might even be tearing the plane to bits. What was he to do? Get down on his knees and shout through the floor for them to stop? That would be a dead giveaway. There was absolutely nothing he could do but settle back into his seat and clutch the pendant. The sudden release of calm he craved spread from his heart to his head, where he concentrated very hard on thinking about his sister being alive and not on the monsters who were having a party below. It was very fortunate that Nelson had this pendant to keep him calm, because it took more than three hours for the monsters to get over the effects of their chocolate binge, and by the time it was over, everyone else on the plane, including the captain, was a nervous wreck.