The malcontents reached the always open doors
of the Prime and Only Ministry of Fairyland. Now it was up to Tyrone Shyboy to
park in the Ministry’s lot. There was, there was not, something gleaming before
him, reflecting blinding sunlight. He felt he had better step on the brakes of
his ruin of a car. He did, and they failed him.This caused a collision with the
very badly parked lamp turned automobile that had once belonged to Aladdin. And
that provoked an explosion that sent the huge can of Shyboy oil meant to cure possible casualties
through one of the many windows of the Prime and Only Ministry.
“I swear I didn’t do this!” cried Batish Afsoon.
And the Persian genie vanished, terrified that
he might be accused of bombing the ministry.
After a few minutes of intense chaos and
confusion my parents, Heather, Thistle and I appeared on the scene.
“What is the meaning of this?” asked Mum,
observing the devastation.
“I don’t think it’s the genie’s fault,” said Ty,
shaking his black dreadlocks. “Don’t go
after him. I’ve been telling my uncle for years that I needed a new car. But to
no avail. Nobody ever takes me seriously.”
“Then we won’t either,” said Oberon. “We’ll just
call this an act of fate.”
“Fine,” said Titania. “Much less trouble. But I
think you ought to do something about this mess. After all the idea of a
ministry was yours.”
“Will do. We’ll make a list of the casualties
and damages. Let’s see. Your glasses are broken, Tyrone. There are splinters
stuck all over the place. We have a burnt car and a giant lamp that looks more
like an accordion out there. Every window shattered and all the furniture in
here upside down. Papers everywhere. And what could be Binky’s head stuck
inside a can of oil that I imagine was for the lamp.”
Mr. Binky, indeed, was the prostrate fellow lying
by his desk with his head stuck in the can of Shyboy oil.
“That wasn’t for the lamp,” said Ty. “That ia a can of my uncle’s heal-it-all ointment. Somebody should remove the can from
the head of that poor fellow there, though I’m sure he is sleeping placidly
through all this without the least notion of what hit him. It would surprise me
if we found him to be dead.”
“By Og!” cried Dad. “I didn’t think he
might be... dead. We so seldom are. What
do you think, Titania?”
“I think get that can off his head and find
out.”
“If he wasn’t dead before the can hit him, he’s
only fast asleep,”explained Tyrone. “The oil my uncle created is far more
effective than anesthesia. It not only knocks you out. It also heals wounded
mortals and immortals alike while they sleep. What I don’t know is how long it
will take for that guy to wake up. That depends on a lot of circumstances.”
Between Ty and Dad they removed the can. Mr.
Binky looked awful. He was tainted bright yellow and all oily and his tongue
stuck out. He was unconscious, but breathing faintly. Ty and Dad raised his
chair from the floor and sat him on it behind his desk. It was like handling a
doll.
“The person who is dead,” said Ty, “is my uncle. He must have had a heart attack
when he jumped out of the car. You can add him to your list of casualties. The
Leafies are all fine.”
“Born survivors,” nodded Dad.
“But we’re in shock,” they said, looking it.
“And all this happened because we expropriated
Owl Wood Manse illegaly? Well, Binky was really enthusiastic about building his
school in your lot. Pity. I suppose that won’t be possible. We’ll have to
return the property to you,” said Dad.
“No!”
cried Ty. “It’s perfectly possible. We can reach an agreement this very minute
if you like. Now I am the owner and willing to grant you the use of the property for five thousand years in
exchange of a new car for me and another for my wife, as long as you allow us
to live forever in the basement of whatever you build there. I promise to act kind
of like a watchman whenever I don’t feel like spending the night out. We would
like it if you tried to save and repair the building instead of knocking it
down and building a new one. It’s large and would make a good school. Am I being reasonable?”
“No!
You’re being magnanimous! If we ever
do get to inagurate the school, I promise to put a statue of you in the garden.
I can’t name the place after you because we promised another donor, a filthy
rich little baby, that honor.
That settled, Dad told Mum they could leave.
“What do you mean we’re done here?” snapped
Mum. “This place is a mess! Who is going to clean it up?”
“Listen, I just handled the real estate
problem. Tell your people to do the cleaning up. Call Cobweb and her staff.”
“Certainly not! This will remain as it is if you don’t clean up!”
“Well, so it will. Binky will restore it to its
forner splendor when he comes to.”
“If you like, I can remove part of the junk,”
offered Ty. “I’ll tow the remains of my car and the dented lamp that’s stuck in
it home with me if you give me my new car now.”
Dad asked Ty if he minded the cars being
limousines.Ty didn’t mind and got a black limousine for himself and a white one
for his wife. Puck was to drive the white one following Ty. Dad also had Puck
check the brakes of both cars before giving Ty the keys. Needless to say they
were parked very carefully before being loaded. Mr. Lonefellow was laid on the
back seats of the black car with their seatbelts holding him fast and the
Leafies leapt into that car to accompay him back home.
Everybody then left the scene except for my
sisters Heather and Thistle Neither of these girls can bear to see a mess
without doing at least a little something about it.
“We can’t leave Mr. Binky here like this,” said
Heather.
“Maybe we can grow spiny plants all around the
place so no one will dare enter,” said Thistle.
“Yes, but we’ll take Mr. Binky to Apple Island.
There he will at least be among people who know him when he wakes. The Leafies
said this liquid can provoke temporal amnesia and other mental disorders.”
And my sisters took Prime Minister Binky to
Apple Island by barge, like the wounded Once and Future King had been taken to
Avalon before him.
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