And that was how we arrived back at the edge of the wood, where Granddad was still teaching his botany lesson. Naturally, everyone else was snoring discreetly.
Granddad was so caught up in his lesson that he didn’t even notice us arrive. So we got down off Dailan Kifki and decided we’d also have a quick nap, just till dawn.
I lay down on the grass, with a little pumpkin as my pillow, and was lulled to sleep by the singing of the crickets and the frogs.
I was woken up much later by a bell saying clang-a-lang-a-lang.
At first, still half asleep, I thought it was a cowbell. What luck, I thought to myself. Now we’ll have milk to make everybody’s breakfast, especially Dailan Kifki’s lovely oats soup.
But I was wrong.
It wasn’t a cow.
It was Granddad ringing the bell for everyone to return to class, in their overalls, with nails clean and faces scrubbed.
Granddad was walking among the sleepers shaking the bell and shouting:
“Right, children, time for class! Break’s over! Everyone line up!”
Nobody paid him any attention.
Everyone just turned over and went on grumbling in their sleep, apart from the Fireman who was used to this sort of thing and stood up in his sleep, polished his buttons with his sleeve and gave a salute.
“Well done, student Fireman!” said Granddad, moved at the sight of such an obedient pupil.
I had just woken up, and I was about ready to declare war on Granddad.
When he saw me, he said—without so much as a “Good morning”:
“And where is your pencil-case?”
“Granddad,” I replied, “we’re not at school. This is the Forest of Gulubú, where the puddles are made of chocolate and it’s always break-time.”
“Everywhere is school!” he answered, furious.
And then he suddenly snapped out of his daze, looked at me and asked:
“Wait…what? What did you say? What are these puddles of chocolate you’re talking about?”
“All the pools in the Forest of Gulubú, Granddad.”
“They’re chocolate?” he said again, squinting with envy. “And those smudges on your face and your pinafore and your ears and your hair—those are from the chocolate?”
“Yes, Granddad.”
Then Granddad set about waking everybody up so he could go and give them a chocolate lesson.
Bit by bit, everyone opened one eye, then the other.
My Auntie Clodomira, my brother Roberto, my dad and my mum.
The Captain, the Superintendent, the Ambassadors, the Mini-Secretary, the busybodies, the onlookers, the ice-cream sellers, everyone.
The moment they heard the word “chocolate”, they lined up nicely without batting an eyelid.
Granddad was about to lead the new expedition when Mister Carozo interrupted him:
“And where the devil are you going?”
“What do you mean, where am I going?” replied Granddad.
“My granddaughter has just told me your forest has lakes filled with chocolate. We are therefore going for a dip.”
“No, sir,” replied the furious dwarf, “we are absolutely not going for a dip in the pools. We’re going to drink hot chocolate at my house, and the way it’s supposed to be drunk—out of pretty little porcelain cups on a table.”
“I don’t want to!” said Granddad, “I’m bored of drinking chocolate out of little cups. I want to get covered in chocolate all over, just like you and my granddaughter and the Fireman and Dailan Kifki.”
“In that case, supisichi!” said the dwarf fiercely, drawing his sword again.
They started fighting, as usual, until the Superintendent separated them, using his whistle, his truncheon and his white gloves.
Once this latest torment was over, we all set off in the direction of Mister Carozo’s house. It’s just as well it was nice and close.