Buffy becomes round again

Buffy was carried home to the police station. But she was too wide for the doorway. They had to bend her carefully and then lay her on the floor. All the other animals had to stand against the walls to make room for her.

“Are you comfortable enough?”

Buffy’s nose twitched.

“Mind no one stands on her!” said Gordon. “What shall we do? Shall we let her lie and see if she comes back to her normal shape?”

At that moment two new guests appeared at the police station.

Two elderly bakers came in, puffing after their walk.

“We’ve had a break-in at the bakery,” said one, flapping her apron. “Someone has come in and stomped around. They haven’t stolen anything but they’ve put their fingers all over the saucepans and bowls and rolling pins and spatulas…”

“Spatulas?”

“Yes, you use them to scrape out the last of the cake mix from the bowl,” she said.

“Yum,” said Gordon. “Are there any cakes left, by the way?”

The bakers shook their heads.Gordon looked sorrowful.

In the meantime, Badger had been thinking about what to do with Buffy.And now he had an idea.

“I know!” he cried. “I’ll inflate her!”

He knelt on the floor.

With one paw he squeezed Buffy’s nose, then he took a deep breath and blew into her mouth.

Slowly she became rounder, and soon she looked normal again. Badger blew and blew.

“Stop now,” cried Gordon. “Don’t blow any more or she’ll explode.”

Buffy blinked a few times and then she got up and gave a deep sigh.

“Finest dear Buffy!” said Gordon. “I’m so pleased to see you back to normal! Can you move alright?”

Buffy waved one paw slightly.

And then the other.

She stood up and stamped lightly.Then she took hold of her tail and inspected it with care.

“Everything’s fine,” she said.

“Hurrah!”

Buffy’s mother and Gordon supported her over to the bed so she could rest. The young ones made room for her in the middle, where they gathered around her, patting her nose.

“Tell us!” said Gordon.

Buffy closed her eyes and thought carefully.

“After I’d spoken with Badger, I went on alone over the bridge into the dark. I stopped and heard a scraping noise. And then I went quick-march up to the top of the mountain. It started to hail and…”

All the animals held their breath and leaned in towards her. What would come next?

“Come on!” said Badger, irritated. “What happened?”

Buffy lay quiet on the bed.

“I don’t know. I’ve forgotten. The next thing I remember is Gordon asking me if I was alive.”

“She’s had a shock and lost her memory,” said Gordon. “But she’ll begin to remember if she’s able to rest. I suggest we all go and lie down.”

The young and the very old all lay in the beds.

There was room for twelve youngsters in Gordon’s bed. He himself stretched out on a rug. If they could just sleep for a while, Buffy’s memory would come back and then they’d work out the best thing to do.

 

 

Helmer badly wanted to be a real police officer. And here he was, investigating the scene of the crime. First, he picked up Buffy’s flat hat and knuckled it into shape. He tried it on. It fitted pretty well. Yes, now he was a real police officer!

He listened as the whole gathering trooped over the bridge. He heard the door to the police station open, and all their voices saying loudly what they were going to do next.

He was all alone and determined to solve the case. Then he could do the stamping afterwards.

What if it had been a few boulders rolling down the mountain that had flattened Buffy? But then the boulders would still be lying at the bottom. And there were none.

And where would they have come from if that was the case?

Helmer climbed the mountain and caught sight of a cave. It wasn’t so dark now because the clouds had parted and a bright moon had risen.

A cave? It looked as if someone had hacked and chopped out pieces of the mountain, quite recently. Strange. Why would anyone dig a big hole up here? There were no picks or spades to be seen. Nothing they could work with.

He discovered a lump of clay lying at the entrance to the cave. When he picked it up, he saw that it was a figure. A fat lump of clay with a face and a broad smile, a big nose and two short arms. Hmm. The clay was still soft, as if someone had been sitting and kneading it quite recently. And it wasn’t finished. It had only the beginning of a tail. And no legs. Helmer was good at making sculptures in kindergarten. He pinched out the clay and made a short leg, then he began rolling the tail to make it longer…

He hummed to himself and became absorbed in his work while he wondered who could have made the clay figure.

Then he felt someone breathing behind him. Breathing and quietly rumbling. He slowly turned his head and saw a creature at his back.

Much bigger than he was:a strong body, big nose, wide mouth, long hair.

Help! Was this a scoundrel?

What would a good police officer do now?

There were three important words, but he’d forgotten them.

Then he caught sight of a big pinecone in front of him. A pinecone! He grabbed it and threw it straight at the scoundrel, to protect himself. It hit the big nose right in the middle.

The scoundrel rumbled again.

Then it suddenly put its thumb into its mouth and began to suck.

Was that a tear in the scoundrel’s eye?

Helmer was sorry.

It’d been stupid to start throwing pinecones!

But he’d been so scared.He picked up the pinecone. “Sorry,” he said. Maybe he could show the big thing how to pick out the little seeds.

“Small, lovely seeds, like nuts! Really good.”

The big thing took the cone and tried to pick out a seed, but its fingers were too thick for such delicate work.

Helmer showed it how and he popped some seeds into the big thing’s mouth. Its face lit up. They were sweet and good.

Then Helmer pointed at the lump of clay and how he’d been working on the tail. He looked at his new friend’s tail, which had a tassel on its end. So Helmer built a little tassel on the clay figure’s tail.

They both laughed as they sat together.

Helmer figured out that the scoundrels must have been frightened and run away at top speed. His friend hadn’t managed to take his clay figure and had come back to look for it.

“You’re kind,” said Helmer, and he smiled.

His friend laughed and pointed at Helmer with a large, crooked finger.

“Yes,” said Helmer. “I’m kind, too.”

Then he thought he should get back to the police station. The others would be getting worried.

“I have to go!” he said. “But see you again soon.”

They waved goodbye and Helmer hurried down the hill.

When he stepped into the police station and hung the police hat on Buffy’s hook, Gordon had just told everyone to go to sleep. Gordon was stretched out on a rug and Buffy lay in the bed among all the young ones from the kindergarten. Helmer lay down beside them. He saw the poster that said: Tell the police everything.

“Uh-oh,” Helmer began. “There’s something I have to tell—”

“What a noise,” said Buffy sleepily. “Those dreadful, dangerous scoundrels. Tomorrow morning when I remember better, we must do something about them! Sorry, what was it you wanted to say?”

“No, it’s nothing, we can talk tomorrow instead,” said Helmer.

Buffy began at once to snore lightly.

Helmer agreed that you should tell the police everything. But everyone seemed so angry with the scoundrels. And Helmer’s kind friend might end up in trouble.

What an impossible fix! What should he do?