Mary Norton - Bed-Knob and Broomstick

"Then you can come with us on the bed. There's heaps of room. Do, do, Miss Price!" Miss Price wavered. "It would be a change," she admitted.

"Couldn't we go tonight?" "Tonight!" Miss Price looked startled.

"Well, why not? We slept last night." Miss Price succumbed. "Well," she said hesitatingly, "if you slept last night . . ." Paul was a little mystified by the South-Sea-island idea, but when Carey and Charles had explained to him the wonders of a coral reef, he, too, became agreeable but insisted on being allowed to take his bucket and spade.

Miss Price got out an atlas and an encyclopedia, and they searched for islands whose dawn would correspond with sunset in England, where European night became Pacific day. They did sums and calculations on the backs of envelopes, and at last they decided on an island called Ueepe. It was not marked on the map, but it was mentioned in the encyclopedia as an island yet to be explored by white men. It had been sighted among others mentioned from the sailing ship Lucia Cavorta in 1809 and was spoken of by this name by natives on the island of Panu, four hundred and fifty miles distant, and was said to be uninhabited.

"We'll have the whole place to ourselves," exclaimed Carey delightedly. "We could even rename it." As it would hardly be possible for Miss Price to sneak into Aunt Beatrice's house so late in the evening and make her way up to Paul's bedroom, it was decided that Miss Price was to come to the window on her broomstick when it began to grow dark and that the children would let her in.

Charles mended Paul's spade for him, and they also found a butterfly net, "which might do for shrimping or anything." The children undressed and had their baths just as usual, because it was one of those nights when Elizabeth wanted to talk about her sister's little boy's operation. She followed them about from bathroom to bedroom, telling them the well-known details. They knew that later, when she served Aunt Beatrice's dinner, she would sigh and say that she was "worn out getting those children to bed." But she went at last, stumping down the stairs, and Carey and Charles slipped from their room into Paul's. Paul was asleep, so they sat on his bed and talked in whispers until it began to grow dark. Then they went to the window and watched for Miss Price. Charles was the first to spy her, flying low in the shadows of the cedars. The broomstick had a slightly overloaded look and swayed against the window sill as a dinghy bumps against a ship's side. It was difficult getting Miss Price in at the window. She was carrying a string bag, a book, and an umbrella, and she dared not let go of the broomstick until her legs were safely over the sill. She knocked her hat off on the lower part of the sash, and Carey, picking it up, found that it was a sun helmet. "My father's," explained Miss Price, in a loud whisper, panting after her exertions, "the one he had in Poona in '99. It has mosquito netting round the brim." Carey peered at it dimly in the fading light, as it swung upon her finger. It smelled strongly of naphtha. "I don't think there are any mosquitoes in the South Seas," she whispered back.

"Well," replied Miss Price briskly, tying the string bag to the foot of the bed with Paul's dressing-gown cord. "Prevention is better than cure. Better slip the umbrella under the mattress, Charles. And my book, too, please." It was so dark now that they could hardly see each other's faces. There was no moon, and the cedar boughs were but dim shadows against a gray sky.

Carey wondered suddenly whether they ought to have dressed again. She hadn't thought of it, somehow. Now, it seemed too late. The dark room was full of bustle. Paul was waking as Charles heaved at the mattress to stow away the book and umbrella.

"What do you want?" he asked sleepily.

Carey flew to his side. "Put your dressing gown on," she whispered. "It's time to go." "To go where?" asked Paul in his normal voice.

"Shush," whispered Carey. "To the South Sea island. The coral reef, you remember?" "But it's so dark," objected Paul.

"It will be daylight there." She was putting his arms in the sleeves of his dressing gown. "There's a good boy," she praised him. "You've got to say, 'I wish to go to Ueepe.' Here's your net and bucket and spade. I'll take them for you. Kneel up, Paul." Paul knelt up, facing the head of the bed. Miss Price was firmly tucking in the blankets. She laid her broomstick under the eiderdown. Then they all took their places. Miss Price sat next to Paul, and Charles and Carey held on at the foot.

Paul put his hand on the knob. Then he turned round. "It makes me feel sick, when the bed goes," he announced.

"Oh, Paul," whispered Carey. "It's only a minute. You can bear it. Miss Price has a nice picnic in her bag," she added as an inducement. "Go on. Twist." Paul twisted. The bed gave a sickening lurch. The night seemed to turn blue, a blue that glittered like a flying tinsel ribbon, a rushing, shimmering blue turning to gold, to light, to heat-to blinding sunshine. Sand flew stinging past their faces as the bed skidded, then bumped, then stopped. They had arrived.

THE ISLAND OF UEEPE Carey's first thought was that she wished she had brought her hat. The white sand flung back the dazzling glare of the sunlight in such a way that she had to screw up her eyes to see.

The bed had done its best for them. It had set them down on the very tip of a horseshoe-shaped reef. They found themselves on a thin strip of fine white sand held in place by walls of pitted coral. It was almost like being on a ship. In the distance, across a lagoon of dazzling blue sea, they could see the other tip of the horseshoe. In between, a mile or so away, where the front of the horseshoe might be, were trees and low hills.

In among the rocks, which formed the coral walls of their narrow strip of land, were clear pools in which glimmered seaweed of lovely colors, sea anemones, and transparent fish. And the sand was as smooth and fine and white as icing sugar. They had never seen sand like it. There were four great scrapes in it where the bed had come to rest, but beyond that not a footmark, not a ripple.

Charles kicked off his bedroom slippers and let his bare feet sink into the warm crust. It spurted up between his toes. "Gosh," he said happily.

Carey peered over at the lagoon. It was deep and clear. They could see strange fish swimming through the sunlit water. "How lovely!" exclaimed Carey. "How wonderful! Do let's go and explore." Out at sea, between the two points of the horseshoe, great waves rolled up and broke into swirls of spray, spreading their foam into the smooth surface of the lagoon.

Miss Price was unpacking. She took four bottles of ginger-pop out of the string bag and placed them in a pool to keep cool. The rest of the food, the hard-boiled eggs and the sandwiches, she put under the bed in the shade.

"You two big ones can explore," she announced, "but I'm going to sit here in the sun." She retrieved her umbrella, her book, and the broomstick. Then sitting down on the sand, with her back against the bed, she methodically removed her shoes and stockings. Miss Price's feet, Carey noticed, were as pink and knobbly as her hands.

"Can we bathe?" asked Charles.

Miss Price adjusted her sun helmet and put up the umbrella. "If you've brought your bathing suits," she said amiably, opening her book.

"We haven't. We didn't think of it." "Then why ask?" said Miss Price.

Charles and Carey looked at each other. Both had the same thought but neither spoke.

"You can paddle," went on Miss Price, relenting a little. "And explore. I'll take care of Paul." Paul, on the bed, was leaning over Miss Price's shoulder examining her book. " 'Chapter Six,' " he read aloud slowly. " 'Another Man's Wife.' " Miss Price shut the book on her finger.

"And you, Paul," she said rather sharply, "can take your bucket and spade and build sand castles." "I'd like to explore," said Paul.