Wilma Tenderfoot: The Case of the Fatal Phantom (25 page)

“I don’t know,” replied Kite. “But I’m going to do everything I can to find out.”

Wilma didn’t know what to think. Maximillian and Prudence? Barbu D’Anvers and her? All
connected in some ghastly and underhanded business that left two people missing and her abandoned in a basket? This was as sticky a muddle as she could ever imagine. “Well, there’s only one thing for it,” she said at last, with a determined nod. “I shall have to help you. It’s time to find out what’s what and who’s who. We haven’t known each other long, Miss Lambard, but nothing and nobody stops Wilma Tenderfoot!”

Theodore looked down at his apprentice and laughed. “Then let’s get started. Mrs. Speckle! Some corn crumbles, if you please! And a pot of peppermint tea would do very nicely.”

And you will have to wait till the next book to see exactly what they do about it. Goodness. I do hope Barbu D’Anvers ISN’T Wilma’s father. Don’t you?

THE COOPER

NARRATOR: In the middle of an ocean deep, there was once an island with one small hill. And on it lived a maiden, Melingerra Maffling.

[Enter Melingerra. She is dressed in rags and is shivering.]

NARRATOR: Melingerra was from a poor family. There had been a harsh winter that year and with no crops to eat, the girl was cold and starving. That morning, Melingerra was determined to
find food for her brothers and sisters, and so she left her village and began to walk.

MELINGERRA: Oh, my poor belly! How it rumbles! My poor mother is dead! My poor father is dead! And now I am the only hope for my brothers and sisters. If I do not find food, then we shall all surely die! But wait! What is this? Why, it is a Brackle Bush!

[Enter Brackle Bush]

MELINGERRA: But how did it get to be here? Brackle Bushes only grow in summer! And yet this one is not only in bloom, but it is bearing fruit! Tell me, dearest Bush, how do you come to be so unseasonably ripe?

BRACKLE BUSH:
(shakes leaves)

MELINGERRA: I have no idea what you are saying, but then, you are a bush. Come, let me pick some of your juicy fruits so that I may feed my brother and sisters!

[Enter Stavier Cranktop. He is dressed in fine clothes.]

STAVIER: Hold, young maiden! Hold! This is my father’s land and you are trespassing upon it! And what is more, you are stealing from my precious Brackle Bush! Only I can eat the sweet fruits it yields!

MELINGERRA: I am sorry, sir. I did not know that this Brackle Bush was yours. I was taking the fruit for my brothers and sisters, who are most hungry during this foul winter. They have had nothing to eat for five days.

STAVIER: Five days, you say? That’s almost a week! I am sorry for it. Now I am closer to you, I see you are a fair maiden indeed. But you are poor and I am rich. We can never be romantically paired!

BRACKLE BUSH:
(shakes leaves)

STAVIER: What’s that, Brackle Bush? Love knows nothing of grogs and groggles? Why, you
are right! Come then! Let us be betrothed, fair maiden! My name is Stavier, by the way. Stavier Cranktop.

MELINGERRA: And I am Melingerra Maffling.

[They embrace]

[Enter Old Jackquis and The Porpoise]

OLD JACKQUIS: Stop, I say! Stop! The Porpoise of Fortune has told me of your intentions!

PORPOISE: Eep! Eep! Eep! Eep!

OLD JACKQUIS: Calm yourself, Porpoise! You told me that already! I know that these two must NEVER be betrothed. For the Mafflings and the Cranktops are sworn enemies of old!

STAVIER: But I love Melingerra Maffling. And this Brackle Bush has brought us together. Our mutual love of sweet fruits has tied us to each other for all eternity.

PORPOISE: Eep! Eeep! Eeeeeep!

STAVIER: Take that back, Porpoise! She is not a wonky-eyed peasant with bad breath and a terrible haircut! She is my betrothed. Put up your fins, sir! And prepare to fight!

OLD JACKQUIS: No good shall come of this!

[Stavier and the Porpoise fight. They bump into Melingerra, who falls upon the Brackle Bush. The bush now leans.]

MELINGERRA: Oh! I am cut through by the Brackle Bush! How I wish that its thorns were not filled with poison! But they are. Oh, Stavier! I die!

[She dies]

PORPOISE: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

OLD JACKQUIS: It’s too late to be sorry now, Porpoise. If you were joking, you should have said. Now look what you’ve done.

STAVIER:
(weeping)
My beloved is dead. I do not wish to spend one more day breathing or eating sweet fruits. I shall throw myself upon the Brackle Bush and die too.

[He does. He dies.
]

OLD JACKQUIS: Well, this is a mess. I told you not to say anything. I could have handled this. But oh no. You had to put your big blue snout in, didn’t you?

PORPOISE: Eeeeeeep!

OLD JACKQUIS: To commemorate this day of sorrow, I hereby divide this island into two. On the Farside shall live everyone who knew the Cranktops and has a bit of money. Their lives shall be rich and filled with ease. And corn crumbles. And the other side shall be the Lowside, to honor the Mafflings, and all who live there shall be poor and live in servitude. And eat sprout tops. I think that’s the best way of remembering this. It’s what
they would have wanted. If you disagree, well, bad luck. I’ve made my mind up. Would you like to say anything, Porpoise?

PORPOISE: Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeeeep. Eeeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeep. Eeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeeeep. Eeeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeep. Eeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeeeep. Eeeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeep. Eeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeeeep. Eeeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeep.
Eeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeep. Eeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeeeep. Eeeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeeeep. Eeeeeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeeeeep. Eeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeeeep. Eeeep. Eeeep. Eeep.

OLD JACKQUIS:
(crying)
Why, Porpoise. That may be the most beautiful speech ever made by anyone. Let it be carved into every stone and learned by all the Cooper children for ever more.

NARRATOR: And so it was that the island was divided. And the Brackle Bush was revered. And everyone learned the words of the Porpoise. Cooper be praised!

BRACKLE BUSH:
(shakes leaves)

E
mma Kennedy
is an award-winning theatre, movie, and television comedy acttress. She also writes for television and radio. There are two things she would like to do before she dies. 1) She would like to fly a hot-air balloon. Properly fly it, not just stare out of it like a lemon. And 2) Grow wings. That’s it. She has a most excellent beagle named Poppy, who can walk like a crab. Emma’s favorite word is
ramalamadingdong
. She lives in London, England.