Nobby slumped in his armchair. The bell on his hat tinkled and a small cloud of dust and feathers puffed out of the cushions, into the air. The particles hung in the afternoon sunlight, like fairy dust. It must have come from the armchair, as it was no secret that Nobby was carved from wood. He wrenched the blue hat from his head and threw it across the room.
“I’m fed up, ” he muttered. “Nothing exciting ever happens here. In fact, I’ve had it up to my ears with this place.”
Mr Big looked at his friend but said nothing. When he was in this mood there was no way of placating Nobby. Mr Big didn’t like to remind him that any reference to ears, large or small, always made him feel a little self-conscious.
Mr Big was about to suggest opening a couple of bottles of ginger beer when someone tapped on the front door. They looked at each other and shrugged. The only person who ever called was Jessie, and she had disappeared about five pages ago. Neither Nobby nor Mr Big owned a calendar, or kept a diary, so they weren’t sure exactly how long she had been gone.
“Must be those fat buggers from next door,” said Nobby.
“I’ve told you before,” said Mr Big. “You shouldn’t fat shame people. If you have to make reference to their weight issues, try to use a less pejorative word, like full-figured, cuddly or even tubby.”
“Okay. Let’s see what the tubby buggers want this time.”
Nobby trudged to the door, mumbling about cuddly toys and how it wasn’t a medical problem, they were just over-stuffed.
When he flung open the door, he found Mr Blob the policeman, shifting from one foot to the other, trying not to make eye contact.
“So, I suppose you’re here about me speeding again?”
Detective Inspector Blob opened his notebook, licked his pencil, and paused. Everyone knew he had never learned to write, but they all humoured him.
“It’s actually about your friend, Jessie. We have reason to believe that nefarious characters may have been involved in her disappearance.”
Mr Big asked who the term ‘we’ referred to. It was well known that there was only the one policeman in Toytown.
Ignoring Mr Big, DI Blob started to explain, when one had eliminated all that was possible, whatever was left….
Nobby interrupted him. “Have you been listening to audio books again?”
DI Blob blushed. Nobby shook his head slowly, safe in the knowledge that his hat was across the room and that the annoying bell wouldn’t tinkle and make him feel foolish.
“Why don’t you just go and round up the usual suspects?”
DI Blob narrowed his eyes and tried to outstare Nobby.
“Are you suggesting sir, that the police force in this town,” DI Blob cleared his throat, “and in that sense you mean me, might be institutionally racist?”
Both Nobby and Mr Big nodded.
DI Blob blushed, made an excuse of pressing business elsewhere, and left, but only after drawing a small picture of a frowning face in his notebook.
Mr Big sighed. “I suppose we ought to try to find Jessie. Did she say anything to you last time you saw her?”
Nobby shook his head. Having retrieved his hat, partly because he felt not quite himself without it, the bell tinkled merrily. Nobby cursed. He had to put his hat back on before leaving the house. Being seen in public without it, could cause concern amongst the more conservative inhabitants of Toytown.
The Skettal family, as always, appeared near-suicidal in their attempts to cross the road in front of Nobby’s two-tone convertible. He had long since disposed of the cheerful little hooter that came with the car. Mr Jolly, the garage owner, had installed a loud air klaxon which played a variety of tunes. Nobby’s favourite was the opening bars of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.
The first time Nobby employed it, the Skettals had been so alarmed, they had not been seen for several days. It was the least stressful motoring week Nobby had ever known. But lately, the Skettals had been teasing him again.
There had always been speculation as to how Mr Big could squeeze himself into the passenger seat of Nobby’s little car. Most assumed it was some sort of gnomic magic, so averted their eyes, lest a spell also be cast on them. Visitors from nearby villages, less apprehensive about Toytown magic, would often stare as Mr Big wriggled and squeaked his way into the bucket seat.
On that very day, a visiting group from Jollytown, a nearby settlement known for its music and carnivals, had the audacity to take photographs of a red-faced Mr Big struggling to get comfortable. But as nobody in Toytown read newspapers, and social media had not yet been invented, Mr Big was spared extended publicity. The noisy group, singing as they went on their way, reminded Nobby of something.
“Jessie has always liked music,” he said.
“I know, she is always humming one tune or another. I can’t stand the noise myself.”
“Do you think she might have gone to Jollytown.?”
Nobby and Mr Big looked at each other, both realised that was exactly where she must be.
“Do you have enough fuel to get us there?”
Nobby reminded Mr Big that they were in a pedal car.
One page later they arrived on the outskirts of Jollytown. Neither of them had visited before and they could see it was very different to Toytown. There was a smell of strange but enticing food, colourful flags and bunting adorned every building. Loud music was drifting out from a café with tables and chairs spilling out onto the pavement.
Nobby parked his car opposite the cafe. He helped Mr Big extricate himself from the passenger seat. They sauntered across the street, trying to look as though they knew where they were and what they were doing. A waft of smoke and steam drifted out of the door to the cafe. It brought with it the smell of something deep-fried and spicy. Food that Nobby had heard tell of, but never tried.
It was Mr Big who spotted Jessie first. She was sat at a table with another young female bear. Curled up on the floor next to her was Dumpy Dog. Jessie never liked the name Nobby had given him, but it was agreed by all, that it was quite appropriate. Dumpy was always leaving bits of stuffing all over Toytown. Jessie had to pick it up in a special bag she always carried with her. Dumpy was a lot thinner than when Nobby had first met him.
“Over here,” Jessie called, having spotted them. “Come and meet Polly, she’s my new best friend.”
Nobby had never seen a bear quite like Polly. She had dark brown fur and the biggest eyes he had ever seen.
“Would you like a drink?” Jessie asked.
‘I am quite thirsty after that drive,” Mr Big said. “A bottle of ginger beer would be nice.”
Jessie told him that she had found some much better drinks since she had moved to Jollytown, and ordered four Mojitos. Mr Big sipped his first and declared it both fresh and minty. Nobby thought it tasted a bit strange and it caught his throat. After a little coughing and a second sip, he declared it rather nice. Sap started to ooze out the corners of his eyes. Polly handed him a hanky to wipe them.
“You’ll get used to it soon enough, baby boy.” Polly smiled at him in a way that made Nobby feel quite uncomfortable. He turned back to Jessie and cleared his throat.
“So, are you planning to return to Toytown? We’ve missed you. Everyone has.”
“Maybe I’ll come back to visit,” Jessie said. “But I’ve decided to make Jollytown my main residence. There’s so much more to do here, and DI Blob doesn’t come round spoiling all the fun.”
As they spoke, a group of musicians, residents of Jollytown, had assembled on the stage. One was sat at a piano, one behind a set of drums, and one with what looked like a huge violin stood up on end. There were another five who were carrying brass instruments of one sort or another. All of them looked happy.
Jessie and her friend started to applaud. Mr Big and Nobby joined in, out of politeness. At a sign from one of the musicians, Polly Bear got up from her seat and joined them. Nobby thought she looked beautiful. She had a bright yellow flower in her hair and was wearing a long, black, off the shoulder dress. The band started to play, and Polly sang along with them. Her voice was deep and warm. Nobby found himself perspiring for some unknown reason. It was a new sensation for him and he suspected his wooden body was a going need a good coat of linseed oil when he got home. Even Mr Big’s ears were twitching in time with the beat.
Jessie leaned towards Nobby and whispered. “Why don’t you stick around, there’s more for you here than there is in Toytown.”
Nobby was sure she was speaking the truth, but his life in Toytown didn’t seem quite so bad after all. There was only so much excitement a wooden boy could take.
Grabbing Mr Big by one of his ears, Nobby dragged him back to the car, squished him into the passenger seat as best he could, and started to pedal like crazy.
Maybe they could visit Jollytown, and see Jessie on the occasional weekend, but he knew he really belonged in Toytown.
Somewhere in his house, at the back of a drawer, he was sure he had a pair scissors. The first thing he was going to do, once his head stopped spinning, was to cut off that bloody bell.
Bruce Aiken 