Emily Jenkins - Toy Dance Party

“Excuse me,” says Sheep, agitated. “If Lumphy keeps sitting on my new friend, how can we have our chewing club?”

“What new friend?” snaps StingRay.

“What club?” wonders Lumphy.

“While you guys were gone, we invented it,” explains Sheep. “Me, the shark, and Bonkers. Remember how I chewed the grass that one time when I went outside? And I chewed a shoelace before, too. And she”—Sheep gestures with her lone ear at the shark—“she only just got here and already she’s done cardboard and bubble wrap. So we thought we’d have a club.” Sheep looks at the shark, underneath Lumphy, its mouth stuffed with garbage. “But if you keep doing that to her, I don’t know if it’s going to work out.”

“I just now did a bit of cardboard!” cries Bonkers. “I did. I chewed it. Do you want to see?” He scurries over to the box and shows them a tiny nibble. “So I can join the club, too!”

“I didn’t even know he had teeth,” whispers StingRay to Lumphy.

“Yeah, they’ve all got teeth,” says Lumphy, who is still sitting on the shark. “Just tiny mouse ones.”

“Oh,” says StingRay, who doesn’t have any teeth at all.

“Geewi Gugu Gorgareerrica,” says the shark.

“Oh, right!” cries Bonkers. “It’s gonna be called the Chewing Society of North America. Great name, huh?”

Lumphy wants clarification. “You mean, the two of you are in a chewing club with. Um. Her?” He points with his nose to the shark underneath his bottom.

Sheep nods.

“It was the shark’s idea,” explains Bonkers. “ ’Cause sharks are naturally good at chewing. We’re gonna make a list of all the stuff we want to chew, too. It’s called the List of Chewables. Great name, huh? We’re going to start with a sock. Because nobody will notice if a sock is missing. People lose socks all the time, right?”

“Oh no,” says Plastic. “I think we made a mistake.”

“Don’t be hasty,” says StingRay. “Let me get this clear. Sheep, did this shark attempt to eat you?”

Sheep shakes her head.

“Did it try to eat the mice?”

Sheep shakes her head again.

“It was only chewing, not eating?”

Sheep nods.

“Everyone up here was fine, all this time, and you were just sitting around forming clubs together and not even wondering what happened to us?”

“Yes,” answers Sheep.

StingRay glares at Plastic. “You told me she was eating everybody! You told me they probably weren’t even still alive. ”

“Oops!” says Plastic, bouncing lightly. She rolls over to the shark. “Hello. My name is Plastic. And I’m not a roundie, I’m a ball. I’m made of rubber, like you.”

The shark doesn’t reply.

“And um. I am sorry I bounced you,” Plastic continues. “I am sorry I bounced you a lot of times, actually.”

Nothing from the shark.

“I just. I got almost eaten one time by a beagle dog and I got really, really scared when you started with that Gru-GRUNK that you do. You know how you go?”

The shark nods, a very tiny nod.

“I think I don’t understand chewing,” Plastic goes on. “Because I don’t have a mouth, or any teeth. Because of being a ball. That’s normal for a ball, not to have those things. I can smell, though,” she adds. “And see and hear. Even though I don’t know how I do them!”

She is expecting the shark to express interest, because really, what she just said is very interesting, but the shark only twitches. She seems quite weak, now that Plastic looks at her, as if maybe she is choking on all that garbage.

The shark disgorges a small bit of soggy lettuce from her mouth.

“Um. Lumphy?” says Plastic. “I think you should stop sitting on our new friend.”

“Oh.” Lumphy had forgotten where he was. He climbs off the shark. “We should probably take the garbage out of her,” he says, thoughtfully.

“Fine,” says StingRay. She rears up on her tail, grabs the shark with her flippers, and begins shaking it over the plastic garbage bag.

Unwanted carrot.

Soggy lettuce.

Old tofu.

Pancake.

Rubber band.

Blueberries.

Coffee filter.

Orange peel.

Used tissue.

More orange peel.

When the shark is empty, StingRay drags her down the hall to the bathroom, while Lumphy shoves the trash bag under Honey’s bed. Then together they turn on the bath, put in a plug, and run some water.

The limp, exhausted shark doesn’t say a word.

When the water is deep, they add some bubble bath and put her in. The soapy water runs into the shark’s hollow cavity and washes out all the leftover bits of garbage.

The shark revives. She begins to swim the length of the bathtub, swishing her thick tail with only her top fin sticking out into the air. It is exactly the way the sharks swam on Fearsome Fiends of the Briny Deep —but Lumphy doesn’t tell that to StingRay, even though it sends a shiver across his back.

When the shark is clean, they drain the water and dry her off in TukTuk’s warm folds.

“I’m really really really sorry,” says Plastic again, rolling to meet them as they reenter Honey’s bedroom.

The shark coughs once and then asks, “You a floater?”

“Why, yes, I am!” says Plastic, pleased.

“All right then,” the shark says, gruffly. “Any floater is a friend of mine.”

“I’m sorry, too,” says Lumphy. “It was a bad mistake.”

“What are you, bison or buffalo?” asks the shark.

“Buffalo,” Lumphy answers.

“What’s the difference?”

Lumphy shrugs. He doesn’t actually know. He has never heard of a bison.

“Ha! Just kidding you. There’s no difference. Bison, buffalo. It’s the same thing!” The shark laughs and turns its eyes to StingRay. “Yes?”

StingRay looks away. “I um …”

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

StingRay squirms. “I like the way you swim,” she finally says.

“Yah, well. It comes natural when you’re a fish,” says the shark.

StingRay is mortified. She is a fish. But swimming doesn’t come naturally to her, because she’s made of plush, not rubber.

“Are you gonna say sorry?” asks the shark. “Or not? Because I think I am owed an apology here, and to be honest, I’ve had a rotten day.”

The word sticks in StingRay’s throat, but she chokes it out. “Sorry.”

And once it has been said, she is surprised to find that she feels a whole lot better. Like she has been holding her breath—if she had breath—and has now, after a long time, exhaled.

“Apology accepted,” says the shark. “Now, can anyone recommend a piece of wood or an old bit of junk no one cares about in this place? Because I could really use something to chew.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Concerning That Plump Mouse Bonkers, the Vacuum Cleaner, and a Friendship Between Fish

Honey’s parents are on a cleaning spree. They are taking it very seriously. StingRay and Lumphy are in Honey’s armchair, watching the people as they bustle from room to room. Plastic has been shoved into the toy box.

The adults wipe mildew from the ceiling of the bathroom and pull the books off the shelves to get the dust in the back. The mom takes bag after bag of outgrown clothes to a charity shop, and the dad finds the leftover sack of garbage under the high bed.

“Honey?” the dad calls.

“What?” Honey is downstairs in the kitchen.

“Why do you have garbage under your bed?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Oh. I thought I smelled something,” says Honey, coming into the room.