Moominland Midwinter (15 page)

Moomintroll was already on his way out to her rescue. Too-ticky stood looking on for a while, and then she went, inside the bathing-house and put a kettle of water on the stove. 'Quite, quite,' she thought with a little sigh. 'It's always like this in their adventures. To save and be saved.
I
wish somebody would write a story sometime about the people who warm up the heroes afterwards.'

As Moomintroll ran he watched a small crack running alongside him. It was keeping abreast of him.

The ice heaved in the swell, and suddenly it broke in pieces and started rocking violently under his feet.

Little My was standing quite still on her ice-floe, watching the jumping Moomintroll. He looked exactly like a bouncing rubber ball, and his eyes were round from excitement and strain. When he landed at her side Little My held up her arms and said: 'Put me on your head, will you, so
I
can get off if
I
must?'

Then she grabbed a sure hold of his ears and cried: '"A" company, towards the shore,
turn!'

Moomintroll threw a quick glance at the bathing-house. The chimney was smoking, but not a soul was to be seen on the landing-stage, wringing its hands from worry. He hesitated, and his legs suddenly felt heavy from disappointment.

Off we go!' shouted Little My.

And Moomintroll set out. He jumped and he jumped, with set teeth and on shaky legs. Every time he landed on a new floe a cold shower washed his tummy.

The whole stretch of ice was broken now, and the waves were waltzing all the way to the shore.

'Keep in step!' shouted Litde My. 'Here's one again... you'll feel it under you...
jump!'

And Moomintroll jumped, at the exact moment when the wave gently pushed an ice-floe under his paws. 'One, two, three;
one,
two three,' Little My was counting in waltz time. 'One, two, three, wait - one, two, three -
jump!'

Moomintroll's legs were shaky and his stomach cold as ice. A red sunset was breaking through the cloudy sky, and the gleam of the waves hurt his eyes. He felt hot all down his back, but his stomach was cold and the whole cruel world was swirling dizzily before his eyes.

Too-ticky had kept an earnest look-out in the window of the bathing-house, and she saw now that things were going badly.

'Stupid of me,' she thought. 'Of course he can't know that I've been looking on all the time...'

She rushed out on the landing-stage and cried: 'Oh, well done sir!'

But it was already too late.

The last, lonely jump had been too much for Moomintroll,

and he suddenly found himself floating in the sea with water up to his ears, while a spirited little ice-floe kept knocking him in the back of his neck.

Little My had let go of his ears and taken a last long jump ashore. It is strange how deftly people like the Mys get on in life.

'Catch hold,' said Too-ticky, reaching out a steady paw. She lay on her stomach on Moominmamma's wash-board and looked straight in Moomintroll's troubled eyes.

'There, there,' she said. Slowly Moomintroll was dragged up over the ice-edge, and slowly he crawled inwards over the boulders by the water. He said: 'You didn't even care to look on.'

'I watched you through the window all the time,' Too-ticky replied worriedly. 'Now you'd better come inside and warm yourself.'

'No, I'm going home,' said Moomintroll. He rose to his feet and staggered off.

'Warm syrup!' Too-ticky shouted after him. 'Don't forget to drink something warm!'

The path was wet from melting snow, and Moomintroll could feel roots and pine needles under his paws. But he was shaking from cold, and his legs felt slithery, like rubber.

He hardly turned his head as a small squirrel jumped across his path.

'Happy spring,' said the squirrel, absentmindedly.

'Well, thanks,' replied Moomintroll and continued on his way. But all at once he stopped short and stared at the squirrel. It had a big and bushy tail that shone red in the sunset.

'Do people call you the squirrel with the marvellous tail?' Moomintroll asked slowly. 'Of course,' said the squirrel.

'Is it you?' cried Moomintroll. 'Is it really you? Who met the Lady of the Cold?'

'I don't remember,' said the squirrel. 'You know, I'm not very bright at remembering things.'

'But try to,' begged Moomintroll. 'Don't you even remember the nice mattress that was stuffed with wool?'

The squirrel scratched his left ear. 'I remember a lot of mattresses,' he replied. 'With wool, and other stuffings. Wool ones are nicest.'

And the squirrel skipped off between the trees.

'I'll have to look into this later,' thought Moomintroll. 'For the moment I'm too cold. I have to go home...'

And he sneezed, because he had got a bad cold for the first time in his life.

The central-heating fire had gone out, and the drawing-room was very chilly.

With shaking paws Moomintroll heaped several carpets over his stomach, but they didn't make him feel any warmer. He had a pain in his legs and felt a pricking in his throat. All of a sudden life was sad, and his snout felt strange and enormous. He tried to curl his ice-cold tail, and he sneezed again.

At this his Mamma awoke.

She hadn't heard the thunder of the breaking ice and never once the howls of the blizzards. Her house had been filled with restless guests, but neither they nor the alarm clock had been able to wake her.

Now she opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, wide awake.

Then she sat up in bed and said: 'You've caught a cold, Moomintroll.'

'Mamma,' Moomintroll said between chattering teeth, 'if I were only sure it was the same squirrel and not another one.'

Moominmamma hurried out to the kitchen to warm some syrup.

'Nobody's washed the dishes,' Moomintroll cried wretchedly.

'Oh, of course not,' said Moominmamma. 'Everything's going to be all right.'

She found a few sticks of wood behind the slop-pail. She took a bottle of currant syrup from her secret cupboard, as well as a powder and a flannel scarf.

When the water boiled she mixed a strong influenza medicine of sugar and ginger, and an old lemon that used to lie behind the tea-cosy on the topmost shelf but one.

There was no tea-cosy, nor any teapot. But Moomin-mamma never noticed that. For safety's sake she mumbled a short charm over the influenza medicine. That was something her grandmother had taught her. Then she went back to the drawing-room and said: 'Please drink it as hot as you can.'

Moomintroll drank and felt a mild warmth flowing through his tummy. 'Mamma,' he said, 'there's such a lot to explain to you...'

'First take a nap,' Moominmamma said and wound the flannel around his throat.

'Just one thing,' Moomintroll mumbled sleepily. 'Promise not to have a fire in the porcelain stove, because our ancestor's living there now.'

'Of course not,' said Moominmamma.

All at once Moomintroll felt warm and calm and free of responsibility. He sighed a little and burrowed his snout in the pillow. Then he fell asleep, away from it all.

*

Moominmamma sat on the verandah burning a strip of film with a magnifying glass. The film smoked and glowed, and a nice pungent smell was tickling her snout.

The sun was so warm that the wet verandah steps were steaming, but the shadow beside them was ice-cold.

'One really ought to get up a little earlier in the spring,' remarked Moominmamma.

'You're very right,' said Too-ticky. 'Is he still asleep?' Moominmamma nodded.

'You ought to have seen him jump the ice-floes!' Little My said proudly. 'And he had sat half the winter just whining and pasting transfers on the walls.'

'I know, I've seen them,' said Moominmamma. 'He must have felt very lonely.'

'Then he went and found some kind of an old ancestor of yours,' Little My continued.

'Let him tell the story himself when he awakes,' said Moominmamma. 'I can see that lots of things have happened while I slept.'

The film was finished, and she managed to burn a round, black hole in the verandah flooring as well.

'I must get up before the others next spring,' Moominmamma said. 'How nice to be on your own for a bit and do what you like.'

*

When Moomintroll finally awoke, his throat wasn't sore any longer.

He noticed that Moominmamma had taken the gauze off the chandelier and put up the window curtains. The furniture was moved back to its usual places, and the broken pane had been repaired with a piece of cardboard. Not a dust-wad was in sight.

Only the ancestor's rubbish in front of the porcelain stove was untouched. Moominmamma had put up a tidy placard on it: