THE BASE CAMP AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS
In Harry Spoon’s near-perfect world, there were two tip-top activities.
One: eating hot baked potatoes.
Two: playing with his Medi-Rescue-Mission-Men.
He did other things too. He fed the cat. He slept peacefully each night. Several times a day he helped his brother, Aidan, look for his lost shoes.
Every few minutes he rescued a piece of Medi-Rescue-Mission-Men equipment from baby Bella’s mouth.
He also ran useful errands for his mother: fetching paper clips, a dowsing-rod, some umbrella spokes, a plastic windmill, a hubcap, or any other bits and pieces that she needed in her workshop.
Among Lillian Spoon’s inventions was a solar-powered baby buggy, self-opening curtains, disappearing sticking-plaster, and a paw-operated tin-opener for hungry cats.
She was now finishing off a shoe-seeking robot for Aidan.
Harry’s father, Patrick Spoon, invented vegetarian recipes. Harry helped him, too.
Harry’s favourite topping on a baked potato was crispy-kelp-and-ginger dressing. His favourite place for setting up base camp for the Medi-Rescue-Mission-Men was on the landing at the top of the stairs.
One evening, Harry had just set up a tricky incident for his Medi-Rescue-Mission-Men when he heard the crunch of snapping plastic. Another paramedic’s arm was crushed beneath Uncle Harold’s big boots.
“Bit old for playing toy soldiers, aren’t you, lad?” boomed Uncle Harold.
Harry clipped a replacement swivel arm into the paramedic’s shoulder socket but kept his lips buttoned.
Uncle Harold wanted to be an inventor too, only his ideas, like the singing kettle and the electric toothbrush, had all been invented before. Harry wished Uncle Harold didn’t share their home. But Lillian said, “Custard’s thicker than water.”
“Harry!” Patrick called. “Time to lend a hand.”
Bother! Harry thought, because he hadn’t finished rescuing his team and he didn’t like to leave them in their risky situation.
Lillian came down from her workshop in the attic. She had to step round the rescuers.
“Harry!” she scolded. “I’ve told you a trillion times! This is not a sensible place for a base camp. Please move your toys off the landing.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“A grown-up could easily trip over a Mission Man and fall down the stairs.”
The entire team of Medi-Rescue-Mission Men nodded in agreement.
But it wasn’t one of the grown-ups who had the accident. It was Harry.