Jack and
Jill went up the hill to the Well, dragging along the bucket, and bickering all
the way.
“I’m sick and tired of going to the Well,”
Jill moaned. “All those drunks hanging around leering at me make me
uncomfortable.”
“Well, you don’t have to look at them,”
Jack snapped. “And if we don’t go get him his bucket of ale, he’ll take the
strap to us...again.”
“Wish we could do something about him,”
Jill said. “I wish mum had never married him.”
“Well, she did, and what can we do about
it?” Jack argued. “Run away?”
“That’s no good. Mum would be left all
alone and...”
“Look,” Jack interrupted, “there’s that
Jack Horner, with a pie as usual. I can’t stand him.”
“Yes, him and his plummy accent,” Jill
agreed, momentarily forgetting her grievance. “If I have to hear one more of
his smug, self-congratulatory declarations of what a good boy he is,
I’ll...I’ll...”
Muttering balefully, she followed her
brother the long way round behind the wood so they wouldn’t have to pass Jack
Horner, who had sat down under a tree and was digging into his pie.
Unfortunately, this brought them close to little Miss Muffet, who saw them and
immediately stopped stuffing her face with curds and whey to begin shrieking
theatrically.
“What are you screaming about?” Jill asked, clapping her free hand over one
ear. “We haven’t done anything to you.”
“It’s the spider,” Miss Muffet quit
screaming long enough to explain. “The damn spider just scared me again.”
“Where’s the spider, then?” Jack looked
around. “I don’t see the spider.”
“Oh. Um.” Little Miss Muffet blushed
suddenly. “She’s on leave today. I forgot.”
“Let’s go, Jack,” Jill said. “Let’s not
waste time on this flake.”
“Who’re you calling a flake?” Miss Muffet
responded belligerently. “I’ll have you know that I’m a bona fide tourist
attraction. I’ll have my own show, Tuffet Talks, on TV while you two are still
going to the pub for ale every day for that drunken old sot of yours.”
Jill considered replying to this, but she
couldn’t really think of a way to counter the contention that their stepfather
was a “drunken old sot,” so she went on without a further word. They passed
Humpty Dumpty, who was putting down mattresses before climbing on to his wall,
and he didn’t even deign to glare at them as he usually did.
“So,” Jill said, returning to her theme, “I
wish we could stop him from sending us up to the Well every day, to get his
ale.”
“How could we do that? At least try not to
fall down this time. I don’t want my crown broken again.”
“Then you shouldn’t wear the silly thing.
It makes you look stupid anyway. Not even princes
wear crowns these days, and you –”
“And if I don’t wear it, we wouldn’t fall,
is that what you’re saying?” Jack turned angrily to his sister. “Look, even if
a ten-ton alien jellyfish from outer space came down here right now it wouldn’t
stop you from being the clumsiest girl this side of Little Bo Peep. You –“
There was a soft, immensely heavy thump
behind them, exactly as might be made by a ten-ton alien jellyfish from outer
space landing on the hill. They were both almost knocked out of their shoes,
and dropped the bucket. Fortunately, since they hadn’t been up to the Well yet,
it was empty.
The creature behind them wasn’t quite a jellyfish. It was an immense,
trembling, translucent mass of something that might have been jelly or might
have been something else. It looked as though someone had taken the slime
produced by ten million billion snails and put it all together. Ten short limbs
poked out of it at various angles, and from somewhere deep inside a pair of
huge violet eyes regarded Jack and Jill doubtfully.
“Excuse me,” the thing said. It had a very
nice voice, rather like Mistress Mary’s when she was in a good mood. “Is
this...I mean to say, are you...” It made a noise like c. “You don’t look like
them, though. But I suppose you must be.”
“Uh...” Jack said, when he’d somewhat
recovered the power of speech. “No, we aren’t – that noise you made. We’re a
boy and a girl.”
“And this is Earth,” Jill, who was a little
quicker on the uptake, added.
“Oh
dear, oh dear,” the thing sighed. “We were supposed to be invading” (it made a
noise like a hyena laughing at an angry pig) “but I lost my way. As usual. I’m
always getting lost, and the others will have to launch the invasion without
me. Whatever shall I do?”
“Find your way to wherever it is,” Jack
said promptly.
“If only it were that easy,” the thing
sighed, quivering all over. “You say this is Earth? I’m afraid I have not the
faintest idea where that is, you see.”
“Oh,” Jill said. “So you can’t go there
because you’re so lost that you don’t know where you are and you don’t know
where to go.”
“That’s it exactly,” the thing said eagerly.
“You see the problem.”
“Sort of,” Jack responded. “But why do you
want to invade the whatever you called them?”
“I’m a ten-ton space jelly,” the thing
said. “What else can a ten-ton space jelly do except invade some planet or
other? It’s expected of us.”
“Can’t you do something else instead?”
The thing attempted a shrug and almost
rolled off downhill. “I don’t know, I never thought of it.” It paused a moment.
“My name,” it offered, “is Rose Petal Plum. And you are?”
“Rose Petal Plum?” Jack repeated
incredulously. “Rose Petal Plum?”
“Why shouldn’t its name be Rose Petal Plum?”
Jill snapped, kicking Jack on the ankle. “I’m Jill,” she told the thing. “And
this is Jack. Please excuse his lack of manners. It’s the stupid crown he’s
wearing.”
“The crown,” the thing repeated. “Of
course. It makes sense now.”
“Does it?” Jack and Jill exchanged glances.
“Er...” Jack ventured, “why would the crown have anything to do with it?”
“Except for sucking out his brains, it
doesn’t do anything,” Jill said. “So I don’t follow –”
“You see,” the jelly said, “the (cats and
hailstorm) look a lot like crowns. So I must have accidentally homed in on your
crown instead.”
“So what can you do now?” Jack asked. “I
don’t suppose that helps you get back to where you came from, does it?”
“No,” Rose Petal Plum admitted sadly. “If
only I could find my way back home, though, I’d be all right.”
“How would you find your way home?” Jill
wondered. “Is it far?”
“It must be,” the jelly agreed. “But there
are gateways, and all I need is to find a gateway. But how can I do that up on
this mountain?”
“What do these gateways look like?”
“There are many sorts,” the jelly said. “It
could be a hole in time and space, or a bump in the fabric of reality, or
something quite simple, like, oh, a volcano, or a well...”
“A well,” Jack and Jill said together. “Did
you say a well?”
“Why, yes. But where would one find a well
up here on this mountain, and, moreover, one lage enough for me, I don’t know –“
“We can take you to a well,” Jill told it. “At
least,” she amended, “it’s called a Well. But if we do...”
“Yes?” the jelly asked. “Whatever you say,
I’ll do it. Just get me home.”
“All you have to do,” Jill told it, “is to
promise never to invade us.”
“Or to invade anybody,” Jack added. “Find some other way to pass the time.”
“Take up collecting, I don’t know,
asteroids or something.”
“And if you go anywhere, go as tourists.”
“Yes, I’ll do that,” Rose Petal Plum said. “I’m
not really cut out for this invading thing anyway. I keep getting lost.”
“Well then, Rose Petal Plum,” Jill told it,
“let’s get you to the Well.”
***********************************
“I’m glad that’s over,” Jack
said, as he and Jill carried the bucket down the slope.
“How’s it over?” Jill asked, shifting her
grip on the pail handle. “He’s not
going to be happy we didn’t get his ale, just water.”
“He can’t do anything about it,” Jack
argued. “It’s not our fault that when Rose Petal Plum jumped on to the Well it
disappeared under the ground and became a real well.”
“He can come up and see for himself if he doesn’t
believe us,” Jill said. “Jack?”
“Mmm?” Jack was looking across the slope,
towards where Polly Flinders was gathering firewood for the night so she could
sit warming her pretty little toes by the cinders. “What?”
“Look out, or you’ll...”
It was too late. Jack’s foot caught on a
root, and he went head over heels. Jill, pulled off balance, went tumbling
right after.
“Ooh,” Jack said, picking himself up and
rubbing his head.
“Ouch,” Jill agreed, rubbing her head. “Now
we’ve fallen down again. And dropped the water too.”
“It’s worse than that,” Jack said gloomily.
“Worse? How could it be worse?”
“Look,” Jack said, holding something up. “Just
look!”
It was his crown. He’d broken it.
Again.
Copyright B Purkayastha 2015
I don't believe a word of it! People don't always do what they're supposed to do.
ReplyDeleteI was sort of hoping they'd all go into the well together and have lovely adventures in time and space. Maybe next time.
ReplyDeletei wrote a poem about Miss Muffet's love for the spider that scared him away ... dejavu
ReplyDeletewhere's the Tasmanian Devil :((
ReplyDelete