Jimmy, The
Glue Factory and Mad Mr Viscous, chapter nine
Chapter
Nine
What Should We Do, Mr Smith?
The little bell over the door jingled, jangled and then jingled again, as Jimmy and Eric burst excitedly into the wonderful shop. Looking out over his spectacles lenses, away from the newspaper that he had been reading, Mr Smith said, “Hello boys, back so soon?”
Despite wanting (and so desperately) to answer him, to tell Mr Smith about everything that had happened, the two boys were so out of breath they just stood there, speechless.
Seeing their dilemma and recalling the time many years ago, when, as a child, he had been as equally impulsive, Mr Smith reached across to a shelf and grabbed hold of a bottle. “Lemonade, anyone?” he asked. The boys smiled a ‘yes please’. “Mrs Smith,” the old man called out to the back of the shop, “can we have a few glasses?”
A door at the rear of the shop opened, and a stout, red-faced little woman emerged, carrying a tray with three glasses balanced carefully upon it.
Wondering how she had managed to do it so quickly, Jimmy tried to speak, to ask Mr Smith, but being so out of breath the words failed him.
As if reading his mind, the old man, tapping the side of his nose, said, “Witches can do many strange things. That was just a taster!”
Gulping down the last of his lemonade, while chewing on a wonderfully rich assortment of sweets – Mr Smith’s Surprise Mixture – the old man had given him, Eric was in no hurry to speak. Jimmy, on the other hand, most definitely wanted to speak, he wanted to tell the old man about everything they had seen – and heard. Yes, he had also enjoyed his lemonade and sweets (a packet of sweet cigarettes, a Fizzing Fruit and a marshmallow surprise; the surprise being the marshmallow was of a bright blue colour), but so wanted to get on with it, to tell Mr Smith about their penny errand, their visit to the mysteries factory – and the horses!
“Mr Smith, Mr Smith, I must tell you what happened to us!” Jimmy cried out, unable to hold back for one second longer.
“Are you feeling rested?” the shop owner asked, with a smile. Jimmy nodded that he was. “In that case,” he said, “why don’t you begin?”
Suddenly, Jimmy let out a belch, a real loud one, the lemonade having hit the spot perfectly. “Sorry!” he said, embarrassed, yet laughing. Then he said, “Mr Smith, a most wonderful thing happened to us, today, when we went to the old woman’s house, doing the penny errand. You see, after delivering the flour and getting our wages – a penny each – we heard the sound of horses, frightened horses, coming from the factory next door to the old woman’s house. Do you know what we did, Mr. Smith? We knocked on the door of the factory, to ask about them, that’s what we did. When Mr. Gaunt opened the door, he invited inside to see the factory owner – his name is Mr. Viscous. Mr Viscous was mad at us for having bothered him, and he told us there were no horses there, but there was, Mr. Smith, really! Then he told us to clear off, to go away. Eric did, he ran right out of the factory, but my goat being up, I stayed. I told him that I wanted to know the truth, and he told me the truth, well, I think he did. He said he was making glue and loads of money to boot. Then I heard the horse again, even though there were not supposed to be any. I looked out the window and I saw loads of them in the yard, below. After that I was chucked out of the factory, and we ran all the way here to tell you!” Taking a deep intake of air, Jimmy added, “Oh, Mr Smith, what should we do?”
Breathing in deeply, feeling short of breath, himself, after listening to such a long preamble of a story, the old man pulled up a crate, and sitting upon it, he said, “Jimmy, that sure was some story…”
“But,” said Jimmy in dismay. “I can feel a ‘but’ coming on – I know I can!”
“No, no,” he replied. “There are no ‘buts’ coming on. I believe each and every word that you have told me,”
“You do?”
“Yes,” he continued. “In fact I would have been disappointed if I had heard anything less.”
Staring at the old man in amazement, Jimmy said, “You would?”
“Yes,” he replied. “You don’t think your little errand was only about delivering flour, do you?”
Caught on the hop, Jimmy said, “Nah! Not for a second!”
“It’s my fault,” Eric cried out.
“There’s nothing to be feeling remorseful about, Eric,” Mr Smith said reassuringly.
“But I ran off! I didn’t care about the horses! I should have stayed there, with Jimmy!”
Offering him a liquorice shoelace (a regular sized one), Mr Smith said, “I think you both did extremely well. And as for those horses, I am sure you will be doing something to help them real soon.”
“You do?” the boys asked, wide-eyed and curious.
Chuckling, he replied, “Yes, of course I do. That’s why you were picked, at the circus.”
“The circus?” said Jimmy.
“Picked?” said Eric.
The old man nodded a yes.
“You mean that old woman, the one behind the marquee, don’t you?” said Jimmy.
“She and her sister, to be precise,” the shopkeeper replied. Then producing a piece of paper, a familiar piece of paper, the flyer advertising the circus, he handed it to Eric, saying, “Go on, read it!”
Eric began reading the words: ‘The Circus of Grotesques – It will change your life forever!’
“Well?” he asked, “Has it?”
Looking up from the flyer, the two boys, staring at the old man with as much fear as curiosity, whispered a yes.
“Now, there’s no need to be getting frightened,” he chuckled. “You wanted adventure, and now you have it!”
Remembering how many times they had yearned for adventure, watching ship after ship pass down the estuary, the boys relaxed, replacing fears with hope, hope for a grand adventure.
“Mr Smith, we do want an adventure, we really do.” they cried out, “but what about the horses?”
Smiling an aged, sanguine smile, Mr Smith told them, and without uttering a single word, that their adventure was all about the said horses.
Raising an eyebrow, Jimmy said, “She, that old woman, she wanted us to find those horses, didn’t she?”
“Yes, yes she did,” he admitted. “She knew that you had – possibilities… she told you so…”
Although they were still somewhat confused by what he was saying – and what he meant by ‘possibilities’ was anyone’s guess – there was an adventure in the offing, and that excited them, and they desperately wanted to stop Mr Viscous from rendering the poor, unfortunate animals into glue. “Come on, Eric,” said Jimmy, “I think it’s about time we paid that factory another visit.”
Jingling and jangling, the little bell over the door signalled the boys’ departure from the wonderful shop.
The door to the rear of the shop opened again and Mrs Smith reappeared with her tray. Collecting the empty glasses, she said, “I think you and your sisters made a good choice, in those two.”
“Yes, her husband replied, “I almost feel sorry for the factory owner, almost, but not quite.”
