CHAPTER 13
THE END
I raced Terry, determined to stop him from hatching another bunch of eggs that might threaten our treehouse, not to mention our lives.
But it wasn’t Bill the postman at the door.
It was Jill!
She was panting as if she’d run the whole way over. “Was that Silky I saw,” she said, “flying away from your treehouse with a giant gorilla?”
“Yes,” said Terry.
I elbowed him hard. “He means no,” I said.
“Yes, that’s right,” said Terry. “I mean no.”
Jill frowned. “I’m sure that was Silky.”
“But isn’t Silky white?” I said. “All those cats were yellow. And they were flying. Does Silky fly? You didn’t mention it on your poster.”
“Well, she doesn’t usually,” said Jill, “but one of those cats was Silky. I’m sure of it. I’d recognize her anywhere. And you two know something, I can tell. You’d better start talking...and fast.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but it wasn’t my fault! It was Terry. He painted Silky yellow and turned her into a canary—well, a catnary, I guess—and then she flew away! I’m really, really sorry.”
“A catnary?” said Jill slowly. “Terry turned Silky into a catnary?”
“Yes, and like I said, I tried to stop him...”
“But I’m so glad you didn’t!” said Jill.
“Huh?” I said. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all!” said Jill. “In fact, it’s fantastic! I’ve been really wanting to get a canary but I was worried that Silky would eat it. Having a flying cat is like having the best of both pets! Thank you, Terry!”
“You’re welcome,” said Terry. “If you’d like any of your other animals converted, you know where to bring them.”
“Thanks,” said Jill. “I’ll definitely think about it. Meanwhile, I’d better get home and put out some birdseed for Silky and her new friends.”
After she left, Terry clapped his hands together. “Well, that all turned out pretty well, don’t you think?”
“I guess so,” I said, “except for one small thing.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s no need to shout, Andy,” said Terry. “Just relax. It will all be okay.”
“In what sense can I possibly relax and how can it all possibly be okay?” I said. “We still have no book and it’s due in tomorrow. How are we ever going to think all the stories up in time, let alone write and illustrate them?”
“Easy,” said Terry. “We don’t have to think anything up. We’ve just lived through a really interesting day. All we have to do is write it all down, draw some pictures, and we’ll have our book!”
You know, I’m much smarter than Terry, but sometimes I get this really weird feeling that he is actually much smarter than me.
“That’s a crazy idea,” I said.
“Oh,” sighed Terry, disappointed.
“So crazy,” I said, “it just might work!”
“What are we waiting for then?” said Terry. “Let’s get started!”
And so we sat down and wrote and drew...
and drew...
and wrote...
and wrote...
and drew...
and drew...
and wrote...
and drew...
and wrote...
and wrote...
and drew...
and drew...
until exactly 4.45 p.m. the next day.
“We’ve done it!” I yelled.
“But it’s quarter to five,” said Terry. “How are we going to get it to Mr. Big Nose on time? Our deadline is five o’clock...we’ll never make it!”
“Oh yes we will,” I said.
“But how?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “but we’ll think of something.”
That’s when we heard it.
A jingling noise.
Terry jumped up. “It’s Santa Claus!” he said. “Quick, get the stockings, hang them up, and pretend we’re asleep!”
“But it’s not Christmas Eve,” I said. “In fact, it’s not even Christmas!”
We went to the edge of the deck and this is what we saw:
Jill was flying through the sky toward us in a pram drawn by Silky and the other flying cats.
“Check out my flying-cat sleigh,” she said as she hovered in mid-air beside us. “Want to come for a ride?”
“We can’t,” I said. “We’re busy. We’re trying to figure out how to get our book to Mr. Big Nose in the city by five o’clock.”
“I could take you,” said Jill. “These flying cats are really fast! Come on! Climb aboard!”
And so we did.
And that’s how we got the book to Mr. Big Nose on time...
and then he published it...
and it was delivered to bookshops...
libraries...
digital e-reading devices...
and even transferred direct into people’s brains via direct-to-brain information-delivery technology helmets*...
and then you read it and we all lived happily ever after!*
THE END