THE POWER OF CRUSH

Nelson was desperate to get out of Donna Gatsky’s clothes and wipe that awful waxy red lipstick off, but it would have to wait until they were all safely out of the airport at Rio. As he followed the other first-class passengers through the icy air-conditioned corridors with Crush obediently clip-clopping by his side, Nelson remembered he was an eleven-year-old boy and that anyone checking Donna Gatsky’s passport was bound to notice this. The entire journey would have been for nothing. He might even be arrested. Would that mean prison?

Nelson pressed the pendant against his chest and took a deep breath. The fear that had threatened to overwhelm him subsided like a wave gently receding from the shore, but the reality of passport control still lay ahead. Nelson joined the line behind his fellow executive travelers and copied them in getting his passport out of his pocket and looking busy. Nelson opened Donna’s passport and looked at her photo. Donna had a severe face and her nostrils flared as if there was a bad smell under her pointed nose. Her eyes were blue while his were brown, but at least he had gotten the hair right.

Nelson copied what he saw the other passengers doing, and when it came to his turn he stepped straight up to the passport booth, where a large woman in a black police-style uniform sat like a hen on her eggs, behind a Plexiglas screen.

“Passport,” said the hen lady, and Nelson laid Donna’s passport before her.

Below, Crush watched what was going on with great interest.

The woman said something in Portuguese and then pointed to Nelson’s sunglasses. “Sunglasses—you no wear.”

There was no other option open to Nelson. He just had to hope for the best. Crush let go of his leg and ran around to the other side of the booth, as if hiding from the inevitable storm about to break.

Nelson thought of the photo of Donna and flared his nostrils accordingly as he lifted the sunglasses from his eyes.

Oh dear.

It was quite clear that despite the hairstyle and red lipstick, Nelson looked nothing like Donna Gatsky.

This was it.

The end of the line.

However, the large woman’s eyes suddenly glazed over and she began breathing faster and faster as she turned to her computer and typed frantically into an Internet search engine. Nelson assumed this was a very bad sign, but it wasn’t at all. The reason for her sudden and strange change in behavior was Crush. He was gripping her leg beneath her desk, and in that moment the passport officer was overcome by an uncontrollable urge to have what she desired, and what this lady desired more than anything right now was a pair of black boots she had seen online that morning before coming to work. She had told herself at the time that even though the boots were gorgeous she wouldn’t get to wear them very often, and she didn’t even have a dress to go with them, but, thanks to Crush, all reason had left her mind and she had to have those boots. Right now! The feeling was so powerful it eclipsed all rational thinking. She quickly found the Web site, searched for the black boots, and clapped like a seal when they appeared on the screen.

Until now, Crush had been an adorable but fairly useless member of the group, but transferring his deep, in fact his almost insane desire for things to this lady was a masterstroke. The poor woman even had tears of joy welling in her eyes as she grabbed her credit card and typed in the details. Soon those boots would be hers and she would be the happiest human on earth!

Nelson of course had no idea what was going on or what to do. He watched, baffled, as she completed the transaction, jumped out of her seat with a great “whoop!” and ran from her booth, leaving all of her belongings behind, in order to get home and wait for the delivery.

Of course, all this meant that Nelson was able to put his sunglasses back on and casually walk through to the luggage-reclaim area.

“What did you do?” asked Nelson, and Crush honked his little head.

If only I could speak bicycle horn, thought Nelson, who really had no idea how Crush had helped him, but was sure the monster must have had something to do with the woman’s odd behavior.

Finding where to go next in the airport was easy. All Nelson had to do was follow his fellow passengers, and right now they were all waiting around a luggage conveyor belt. Nelson knew that the other monsters would follow the luggage from the plane in order to find him, so staying put for now seemed like a very good idea.

A bell rang and an orange light began to flash at the top of the conveyor belt. Passengers gathered around like parents at the school gates, but waiting for luggage instead of small people to appear. A few boxes printed with the words HANDLE WITH CARE were first to appear. They looked badly bashed, and as they slid onto the conveyor, the noise they made clearly indicated they had been handled with the opposite of care. Then, to the horror of everyone waiting below, a steady stream of broken luggage spewed onto the conveyor belt. Duffel bags slashed to shreds, suitcases like hamburger buns unable to contain their filling, stainless-steel containers dented out of shape, and a great deal of loose underpants, swimming shorts, and T-shirts met their mortified owners. Nelson had an awful feeling that he was responsible for all the unhappiness breaking out around him.

As complaints began to ring out and airport staff ran to see what all the trouble was about, Nelson was relieved to see five monsters tumbling onto the conveyor.

“Nelly-son!” shouted Nosh, and Nelson couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his ludicrous gang. They all leaped off the luggage belt and surrounded Nelson with great relief.

“That was flippin’ ’orrible!” shouted Spike, and the others agreed with murmurs and growls.

“Just stay close and keep moving,” whispered Nelson, as he turned and headed straight for the exit, where he was about to discover two men were already waiting for him.