Mr Gum and the Goblins (11 page)

And suddenly Polly knew exactly what she had to do. With the last of her strength she raced for the washing machine, shoved Jonathan Ripples aside and chucked the emerald in through the round doorway. Well, those goblins didn't think twice. They just piled straight in after it, desperate to get their grabby hands on the shiny green jewel.

‘Quick, Mr Ripples, sir! Shut the door!' cried Polly. ‘It's too heavy for me, I'm only nine!'

Brave, greedy Jonathan Ripples slammed the door shut and Polly started up the machine. Then she took the legendary Fruit Chew of Babylon from her skirt pocket and popped it into the powder hatch. There wasn't even time to unwrap it.

‘I hopes I done it right,' she prayed . . . And two seconds later –

The machine rattled up and down like a baby shaking a wasps' nest. The water turned all the colours of the rainbow and the trapped goblins whizzed around and around in the bubbly liquid.

POP!
Without warning a goblin shot out from the chute, somersaulted through the air and landed at Polly's feet.

POP!
Without warning, another one followed.

POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!
That was another five.

POP! POP! POPPITY-POP-POP
POP!
That was absolutely loads of them.

Soon all the goblins had been spat out on to the pavement. There they sat, dazed and blinking in the sunlight.

But somehow they looks different,
thought Polly.
Where's all their fins an' spikes an' claws?

Because the goblins were goblins no longer.
They were children with rosy cheeks and happy laughing faces.

‘Thank you, Polly!' laughed a boy called Terry, who had once been Captain Ankles. ‘You saved us!'

‘I used to be Livermonk, who burped ever so much,' said a tiny girl called Caroline. ‘But now look at me – I'm back to good old Caroline. The Fruit Chew of Babylon has made everything all right!'

‘What the grapefruit's a-goin' on?' said Polly in amazement, as the rest of the heroes rushed up, led by David Casserole, the Town Mayor.

‘Well done, Polly!' he beamed. ‘You've found the three hundred children who ran away in September!'

‘S
ee,' laughed Terry. ‘I'm not Captain Ankles at all. These fins and spikes and claws and things – they're not real. They're just costumes!'

‘But why did you behaves so bad an' pretend to be goblins?' asked Polly in confusion.

‘I'm ashamed to say it's because we were horrible naughty children,' said Caroline, stepping forward with a red face. ‘We didn't like going to school one little bit!'

‘And one afternoon the teachers made us be in a pathetic school play called
300 Goblins Standing Around Doing Nothing
,' said Alex (who used to be the goblin known as Big Steve).

‘Only we didn't want to,' continued a tall girl called Vicky (previously Soupdog).

‘So we ran away to Goblin Mountain, still in our costumes,' said Eric (Yak Triangle).

‘And we ran amuck and lived like savages, and we acted so wild that eventually we forgot we had ever been children at all,' confessed Brian (Wippy).

‘And one day Mr Gum and Billy William spied us,' said Veronica (Oink Balloon), ‘and they thought we really
were
goblins. And by then we had forgotten all our lessons or even how to
speak properly. So we just joined their army for a spiteful laugh.'

‘But now the Fruit Chew of Babylon has made us understand how important school is,' said Terry. ‘Otherwise we might end up like Mr Gum or Billy William, who never did learn better. But please don't make us go back to our old school, it was just no good!'

‘Children,' said Alan Taylor, who had been listening carefully. ‘Which school were you at?'

‘
Doctor No-Fun's School Of Boredom
, of course,' replied Alex.

‘Yes, I've heard about
Doctor No-Fun's
,' sighed Alan Taylor. ‘They're very old-fashioned there. But at
Saint Pterodactyl's School For The Poor
, we believe in teaching children about the natural world and letting them do paintings about how they're really feeling inside.'

‘Oh, we'd like to go there ever so much!' chorused the children.

‘I'm sorry,' said Alan Taylor sadly. ‘There are no available places.'

The children's faces fell.

‘Only joking!' cried the gingerbread prankster, his electric muscles whirring merrily. ‘Come with me, you will be my first ever pupils!' And away he jigged up the hill, the children skipping happily after him.

‘Look, children,' Polly heard him say as they disappeared from view. ‘That tall brown thing is known as a “tree”.'

After that, everyone congratulated everyone else and all the townsfolk were full of joy and merriment. Well, nearly all of them.

‘You were going to put me in that machine, weren't you?' said Jonathan Ripples, tapping Martin Launderette on the shoulder with a chubby finger.

‘Yes I was,' admitted Martin Launderette, trying to look ashamed. ‘But . . . um . . . now the
Fruit Chew of Babylon has taught me the error of my ways –'

‘Forget it, skinny,' said Jonathan Ripples sternly. ‘You are SO getting sat on.'

‘Everything's back to normal,' smiled Polly, looking on as Martin Launderette was squashed into oblivion. ‘But hold on – what abouts Mr Gum an' Billy?'

‘Don't you worry about them,' said Friday, tapping his nose. ‘I left them at Boaster's Hill. They promised to wait for me to come back with something to tie them up. And look,' he said proudly. ‘I've just bought a nice strong rope – why, Polly, whatever's wrong?'

‘Them two scruffers done tricked you,' said Polly, shaking her head sadly. ‘I bets you anythin' they've run off by now.'

‘Nonsense,' said Friday confidently.
‘They'll still be there. After all, Mr Gum and Billy William are very trustworthy men. They – oh,' he said, realising he'd been fooled by master criminals. ‘Oops.'

‘Never mind, Friday,' said Polly. ‘The important thing is, Lamonic Bibber's OK and it's time for a big pig blowout feast!'

So off they skipped to the town square, to find the feast already underway. And what a turnout! Nearly everyone was there – Old Granny, the little girl called Peter, Marvellous Marvin, the retired wrestler . . . Beany McLeany, who loved things that rhymed, was having a chat about a cat with a bloke in a hat, and Jake the dog was helping Mrs Lovely to make sweets by licking up the bits that fell on the floor. And when Mrs Lovely's back was turned, he was helping by making bits fall on the floor on purpose.

‘But where's the Spirit of the Rainbow?' said Polly, looking around. ‘He should be here enjoyin' the fun an' showin' everyone what a winner he is!'

‘That honest lad cares not for rewards and fame, little miss,' nodded Friday wisely. ‘And that is why he is the Spirit of the Rainbow instead of a snooker player or something.'

Oh, well. I'll tell you who did turn up, though. That rabbit from the mountainside. It hopped into Polly's skirt pocket and there it sat
for the rest of the day, drinking a carton of apple juice. Oh, and Alan Taylor came back down the hill with his new pupils. And they'd already done loads of amazing paintings showing how they really felt inside, and everyone clapped.

‘Good work, children,' said Alan Taylor and he rewarded them all with tiny gold stars and ten ‘bonus Alan points' each.

And from Polly's skirt pocket the rabbit watched the whole happy affair.
All's well that
ends well,
its bright green eyes seemed to say.
Mmm, this is nice apple juice.

And the laughter and the capering continued on, and none laughed louder or capered harder than Polly and her good friend, Friday O'Leary. For though their legs were tired from their long journey, their hearts were bursting like joyful
apricots to be back where they belonged.