Gordon and Helmer make plans

While this was going on, Gordon wandered down to the kindergarten.

He wanted to talk with the young squirrel called Helmer. He hummed a song about a mother troll and her many children. He was glad to be meeting this young squirrel at the kindergarten who was interested in police work. Gordon loved having young police assistants to train up.

“A young helper is the best police officer!”he always said.

First, he greeted the young ones throwing a ball to each other in the yard. Then he said a cheerful good morning to the teacher.

“Helmer is so happy to be sleeping at the police station tonight. He has a backpack of his things with him,” she said.

And then Helmer came running with his tail in the air, calling hello to Gordon.

“We can go right now!” he said. “Please!!!”

“I think your teacher wants you in kindergarten first,” replied Gordon. “But this evening…”

“No, please. Now!” cried Helmer.

“You could have today off, Helmer,” the teacher agreed. “To work with the police.”

Helmer’s eyes shone.

“Teacher, after that we can have a police school for all the young ones. And I’ll be the teacher!”

Gordon laughed heartily. What lovely ideas the little squirrel had. And how quick he was, running to fetch his backpack.

“Helmer can be with me today then. I’ve just finished reading all my important books, so I can also take a day off!”

They left for the police station, Gordon plodding and humming, Helmer scampering happily around him.

Unfortunately there were no cakes left in the tin, otherwise they would have begun with a snack. And when Gordon looked in the big boxes sent from the bakery, they were also empty. All of them. Hmm, strange.

“We can use these boxes for school benches later,” said Helmer. “Everyone at kindergarten will be able to sit on their own box at my police school.”

Helmer sat on one now. And Gordon put the others away for Helmer to use later.

“We’ll need some big pictures to show the others from the kindergarten,” said Gordon. “About what is most important when you’re a police officer. We called them posters when I was small…”

“I can draw and paint!” said Helmer.

He rummaged in his backpack and found his crayons.

Gordon pulled out some large pieces of paper.

“Now tell me what is important for a police officer,” Helmer said. “And I’ll draw it!”

“I think they should be well dressed.”

“Well dressed?

“Yes, that’s what my mother always said. No holes in the jacket or dirty trousers. And well combed, if they have fur.”

“Then I’ll draw that. A police officer who is well dressed and combed.”

Helmer started to draw Gordon.

“No, no, draw Buffy instead! Or yourself!”

Helmer drew all three of them. Gordon’s eyes were slightly too big and his mouth too small. But the hat sat nicely on his head. Buffy was a bit crooked but nicely combed. And Helmer was wearing a tie.

“Very artistic!” Gordon said to encourage Helmer.

“What else should a police officer be?”

“Police should always be friendly,” said Gordon. “And polite.”

Helmer made Gordon’s mouth wider, too wide, but you could see that he was very friendly. He stood a little askew, as if about to topple over. Buffy was grinning beside him. And Helmer was smiling widely with large white teeth.

“Finally, a police officer must always be brave. Even if a task is unpleasant, and they’re afraid, it must still be done,” said Gordon seriously.

Gordon wandered back and forth, thinking.

Helmer drew.

“Is brave what I mean?” said Gordon. “Really, the most important thing is to be wise.”

“No-oo,” said Helmer, disappointed. “We can’t change it now! The picture is finished.”

In Helmer’s drawing, a bent-over Gordon crept through bushes, his mouth pursed. Buffy looked determined. And Helmer had hidden behind his own tail, ready to jump out.

“Well, well, I look like a banana!” Gordon laughed. “But you don’t need to do a new picture. They’ll understand perfectly.”

There was one piece of paper left and Gordon suggested they make a poster that could always hang at the police station.

“Tell the police everything.” Gordon wrote it in big letters.

In the picture, Helmer drew Gordon and Buffy next to each other. And in front of them a very, very small squirrel was explaining something.

Gordon was far too fat in the picture. And Buffy was rather flat in the face. But there were some lovely greens and pinks.

“Phew, we’ve done good work,” said Helmer. “Now let’s stand to attention and do some marching.”

Gordon protested. “We police don’t do much in the way of marching. Nor do we often stand to attention…”

This saddened Helmer. He enjoyed standing as straight as a nail. And stomping.

“Okay,” said Gordon with a chuckle. “Atten-tion!”

Helmer stood straight-backed and so tense that the tip of his nose quivered.

“At ease!” commanded Gordon.

That meant Helmer could sag a little and rest.

“Attention again!”

Helmer stood like a lovely nail. Even his tail was straight.

“Attention, sit down! Attention, stand up!”

Helmer loved it when he said “Attention.”

“Attention, march!”

Helmer stomped around the police station and Gordon lumbered after him.

After three circuits, Gordon’s legs ached. “We’ll sing the parade march,” he said. “Last time around!”

 

All creatures everywhere

Shall be safe in nature.

Big, strong police,

Tra-la-la-la.

 

Just then the crow came flying over their heads. She croaked softly: “Watch out for the banging monster, watch out!”

“What?” said Gordon.

“Beware the terrible monster,” squawked the crow.

What did the crow mean?

Ah well, the first lesson was finished. Gordon was too.

“Attention, march to bed!” he commanded.

They both went immediately and lay down.

But Gordon couldn’t help wondering: What had the crow actually meant?