Saffron & Bruno and the visit to the Zoo

The Sixteen Stephens were entirely concentrating on not looking like they were with Stephen Number Ten...and not getting eaten.

It was a sunny Saturday morning, and for once it was the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew who were listening to noises coming from Saffron’s bedroom down below them.  Each of the ghosts had their ears pressed to the attic floor and each was trying to discern what on earth was going on down there.  Every now and again, one of the ghosts would wince and a flash of concern would appear on their faces.  It seemed as if some sort of horrendous mob of creatures had been let loose in the house and had all congregated in Saffron’s bedroom.

“What do you think that was?”  Asked Stephen Number Seven, a knuckle in his mouth with worry.

“It sounded like a small bear flying an especially noisy aeroplane!”  Exclaimed Stephen Number Sixteen.

“And, what do you think that was?”  Asked Stephen Number Seven, with two knuckles in his mouth with worry.

“That’s definitely a cross gorilla discovering all his favourite bananas have gone missing whilst having just stubbed his toe!”  Squeaked Stephen Number Thirteen.

“Aammmfff, wummmf fffmmm yummff fiimmmf ffaaammmff wummff?”  Asked Stephen Number Seven with an entire fist of knuckles in his mouth with worry!

“Pardon?”  Asked Stephen Number Eleven.

“I said,” said Stephen Number Seven, this time without knuckles for worrying, “And, what do you think that was?”

“Oh,” said Stephen Number Eleven, “Well, that was a hungry hippo, a hungry lion and a hungry bison all discovering the pizza company have only brought one pizza and it happens to be entirely covered with anchovies!”

“Urrrrghh!” went Stephen Number Seven, “Poor animals!”

“Did someone mention pizza?”  Asked an interested Stephen Number Eight.  A few heads rose from the floor of the attic and a mildly hopeful though ultimately unenthusiastic rendition of “Pizza, pizza, pizza!” was started by a few of the Sixteen Stephens.

“If you want to take an anchovy flavoured pizza of a hippo, a lion and a bison, you be my guest,’ huffed Stephen Number Eleven.  There was a thoughtful pause.

“Did it sound like an especially large hungry hippo?”  Asked Stephen Number Eight, weighing up the situation.

“I wonder if Saffron and Bruno are safe?”  Asked Stephen Number One.

“We should go down and check,” said Stephen Number Seven.  And each of the Sixteen Stephens looked at each other and waited for the other to say, “Yes, come on, let’s go and check!”  Images of hungry hippos and irate gorillas flooded their minds; Stephen Number Sixteen ducked out of the way of an imaginary bear in a noisy aeroplane.  They all turned and looked at Andrew.  Andrew smiled.  He floated down through the attic floor and went to see Saffron and Bruno in her bedroom.

Saffron and Bruno were marching around her room.  Saffron held one arm in front of her face and waved it about like it was an elephant’s trunk.  She trumpeted like an elephant and waddled around the room.  She may have even begun singing a song about elephants marching along and keeping up, two and three and four.  Saffron saw Andrew and she trumpeted him a “hello”.  Andrew trumpeted back.  They giggled and Saffron threw herself and Bruno down on to the bed.

“I’m so excited, Andrew,” she said, “we’re off to the zoo, today.  I can’t wait to see all the animals!”

“Ah,” Andrew suddenly understood, “so that’s what all the noise is about!”  Saffron nodded her head.  “The Sixteen Stephens think there’s a horde of creatures down here threatening your safety…well, their safety, if we’re to be honest…but, they were worried about you.”  Saffron laughed.

“It was me!”  She said, “I was playing at being all the animals we’re going to see.  Would you like to come too?”

“Let’s go and ask the Sixteen Stephens,” said Andrew, who was pretty confident he knew what the answer would be.  He was about to be a little shocked.

“The zoo?”  Asked Stephen Number Four.

“I don’t need to go, thank you,” said Stephen Number Three.

“Zoo, not loo,” said Andrew.

“My mistake,” said Stephen Number Three.

“And, what is a zoo, exactly?”  Asked Stephen Number Twelve.

“Well,” said Saffron, who had never really had to think of a way to define a zoo before, “it’s um, it’s a place where you can go and see lots of animals that you don’t usually see around the village.”

“Like cows and pigs?”  Asked Stephen Number Thirteen.

“No, silly,” said Saffron, “I mean, animals from other countries or climates, like lions and tigers.”
“And leopards?”

“Yes!”

“And rhinoceroses?”

“Yes, sometimes,” said Saffron, relieved they were beginning to get the picture.

“And crocodiles?”

“Yes, on occasion.”

“Snakes?”
“In the reptile house, yes!”

“Well, that all sounds very dangerous.  I think we’ll sit this one out, won’t we Stephens?”  The Sixteen Stephens nodded and sat down.

“You see,” said Stephen Number Ten, “I don’t think a custard pie is much of a deterrent to a hungry tiger.  If anything, it might provoke it further if it thinks it’s going to get dessert as well.”  Saffron laughed.

“You are all ever so funny,” she said, “The animals are in cages and enclosures, they can’t get to you.”
“What if one of them escapes?”

“That’s right,” said Stephen Number Twelve, “I’ve heard that hyenas are particularly cunning and are probably at this minute working out how to scale the walls and dig tunnels.  Oh, no.  This is far too dangerous a place for us Stephens.  We’ll stay here, thank you.”

“That’s a pity,” said Saffron with a wink to Andrew, “There’s a lovely café at the zoo and they serve delicious ice-cream sundaes.”  There was a hint of a pause.

“And you say, they’re in cages and enclosures?”  Said Stephen Number Eight.  Saffron nodded.  The door to the attic wasn’t big enough for all the Sixteen Stephens at once.  There was an almighty pushing and shoving; and a Stephen Number Eight declaring he should be the first to the zoo as he was happiest to put his self at risk to ensure the safety of the remainder of the Stephens.  This was met with raspberries and calls of “shame” from the other Stephens, and a smattering of “get offs” and “mind my fingers”.  Saffron, Bruno and Andrew watched them and laughed.

*

The Sixteen Stephens hid themselves behind Andrew as they slowly made their way into the zoo.  Saffron held Bruno’s hand and walked about with her eyes wide with wonder.  She was trying to decide where to go to first.  Should she visit the penguins?  Should she go to the zebras and camels?  Should she go to the gibbons?  She knew she wanted to visit the orang-utans and the chimpanzees, but should she visit them first or keep them for a little bit later on.  Saffron’s mother and father waited for her to take the lead.  Andrew could feel the Sixteen Stephens peeping out from behind him.  He heard a whispered comment from Stephen Number Twelve about all being safe for the moment and a murmured question from Stephen Number Eight on the whereabouts of the nearest ice-cream sundae.  Stephen Number Ten had two custard pies at the ready and a bandolier of chocolate éclairs slung over his shoulders.  He had tied a bandana around his head that looked like a banana, because he got confused between the spellings of the two, and had painted two camouflage stripes beneath each of his eyes.  The rest of the Stephens were caught between trying not to be seen stood next to such a ridiculous looking creature and still hiding behind Andrew and still being on the lookout for the cunning hyenas!

Saffron pressed her nose up against the viewing panels of the lions and watched them prowl around and roar.  She held out a branch for a giraffe to eat and patted the side of its neck.  She pointed out the various lizards, toads and newts to Bruno when they were in the reptile house.  She rushed to see the elephants as they swished water over themselves and helped the zookeepers brush themselves clean.  She laughed as the penguins dived into the water to catch the fish they were being fed.  She oohed and aahed at how cute the otters were as they followed each other around and clambered all over one another on the sides of their pool.  She pointed and shrieked at animal after animal after animal, from inside the nocturnal house to see the kiwi, to spotting the red panda up in the highest tree.

Andrew was having a bit of a time of it trying to keep track of all that the Sixteen Stephens were up to.  Stephen Number Seven was easy: he’d found the hyenas, pulled out a pair of binoculars and was studying them carefully to make sure they were not up to anything.  Stephen Numbers Nine and Four were standing by the camels, offering them cups of tea and saying, ”One hump or two,” and falling about laughing.  Stephen Number One had found the elephants and was enquiring how they managed to pack their trunks before going on holiday, and Stephen Number Six was watching the penguins to see which one of them might dance.  Stephen Number Fifteen and Stephen Number Five had managed to get into the enclosure with the leopards and were showing them a range of fashion materials, including beautiful striped patterns, in an attempt to see whether they would change their spots.  Andrew was exhausted.  He decided the best idea was to suggest the Sixteen Stephens join him at the café for an ice-cream sundae.  The Sixteen Stephens thought this a most marvellous idea.  Well, most of them did.

It was an exhausted and elated Saffron, with Bruno tucked in beside her, with her mother and father - also exhausted and elated at the fun their daughter was having - who sat in the café and ordered an ice-cream sundae and glass of water.  There was something wrong.  It took Saffron a moment to work out what it was but then she realised that the café was very, very quiet.  She looked around her and saw the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew in an orderly queue at the café counter.  Saffron was puzzled.  This was not how she expected the Sixteen Stephens to react to the proximity of an ice-cream sundae.  In all honesty, she had pretty much forgotten the Sixteen Stephens were there at all.  They had kept themselves to themselves and she had been so caught up with all the animals’ goings-on she hadn’t paid them much attention.  Now she did.  Instinct told her to do a quick head count.  There were only thirteen of the Sixteen Stephens in the café.  She was about to call across to Andrew when she saw the other three.

Emboldened by the sight of the biggest bunch of bananas you have ever seen in your life, Stephen Number Eight and Stephen Number Ten were in the orang-utan enclosure and creeping ever closer to the biggest of the four apes and their multitude of bananas.  One of the zookeepers must have been feeding the orang-utans and then been distracted.  Stephen Number Eleven was keeping an eye on the gate to the enclosure, to make sure no one came and locked them in.  Saffron was about to call out a warning but then something made her stop.  She decided to wait and watch.

The two ghosts inched closer to the bananery-prize.

“Are you sure Stephen has got the gate open?”

“Yes,” said Stephen Number Ten.
“And, are you sure you’ve got me covered with those custard pies of yours?”

“Yes,” said Stepehen Number Ten again.

“Right,” said Stephen Number Eight, “I’m going in.”  He crept forward as quietly as a ghost and reached out his hand for the bunch of bananas.  At his back, Stephen Number Eight could feel the tension in Stephen Number Ten.  He hoped his ghostly counterpart did not have an itchy custard finger.  Stephen Number Eight’s gaze flicked between the stack of bananas and the recumbent orang-utan laying closest to the yellow delights.  He was an immense creature.  He looked like a orange, hairy bag of metal with a sunny smile and a disposition to cause quite a lot of ruckusness if his bananas were not around when he woke up.  Stephen Number Eight knew this had to be done carefully and methodically.  His hands moved in micro-movements, getting ever closer to the bottom of the bunch where the bananas all came together.  Stephen Number Eight held his breath.  This was odd, as Stephen Number Eight, being a ghost, doesn’t, of course, breathe; but he held his breath anyway.  It added to the tension.  The tip of his finger touched the first banana.  He paused.  The orang-utan remained motionless.  He took hold of the first banana and pulled it, ever so gently, toward him.  The orange ball of fur did not stir.  Stephen Number Ten felt the hairs he imaged to be on the back of his neck stand on end.  A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead and dropped to the floor.  The silence was oppressive.  Even Stephen Number Eleven, over by the door was feeling jumpy.  There was nothing but Stephen Number Eight, his hand and the bunch of bananas.  Stephen Number Eight pulled the bunch toward him.  An orange arm shot out and stopped the bananas moving.  An eye in an orange head opened and a movement of the mouth revealed a full set of gloriously yellow and white and grey teeth.

“Oh, look,” said Stephen Number Ten, “He’s smiling.  Perhaps he wants to share his bananas with us after all!”  Belying all the evidence to date, Stephen Number Eight displayed an astounding understanding of the nature of apes and other simians and realised with impressive speed that the baring of teeth by an orang-utan whose bananas you were just trying to make off with was not a broad grin of generosity.

“Fire!”  He shouted.

“Where?  I’ll get my hose!”

“No,” Stephen Number Eight yelled with urgency in his voice, “Throw your pies!  Throw your pies at the orang-utan!  Now!”  Stephen Number Ten did not take telling twice.  Both custard pies were unleashed and flew through the air toward the ever grumpy ape.  With dexterity and skill, the orang-utan caught both of the pies, one in each hand, and revealed his yellow, white and grey teeth again.  This time, it was as smile.

“Run!”  Yelled Stephen Number Eight.  Stephen Number Ten managed to get off a couple of chocolate éclairs before turning on what would have been his heals, if he had feet, and scarpering!

"Throw your pies!  Throw your pies at the orang-utan! Now!"

Stephen Number Eight was hit first.  The pie landed squarely on the back of his head and made an excellent squelching sound and liberally sprayed custard all over the place.  The second pie caught Stephen Number Ten on the side of the face as he made the mistake of looking over his shoulder to see where the orang-utan was.  His hands shot out in front of him and he flailed around, custard in his eyes.  Stephen Number Eight was torn between trying to get as much of the custard pie that had hit him into his mouth and taking cover.  The third pie hit Stephen Number Eleven and took him by surprise.

“Where’d he get another pie from?  You only threw two!”  The orang-utan grinned.  The ghosts yelled once again and ran.  Chaos ensued.  The orang-utan wasted no time in deftly unlocking all the monkey and ape enclosures.  The ghosts formed a corral behind ice-cream trolleys and the stand off commenced.  It was one of the shortest stand-offs in history.  No sooner had the sentence with the words “the stand off commenced” in it been typed, then the stand off ended.  It ended with the use of two words.  It ended with the two words “food” and “fight” and it ended when Stephen Number Ten, as is his wont, shouted them.  Saffron took cover just insider the door of the café.

“FOOD FIGHT!”

The orang-utan grinned again and began to fling pies at a rate of knots!  The Sixteen Stephens returned pies.  A lion’s roar was cut off mid-roar when a pie landed straight in his mouth.  His eyes went wide and his tastebuds went tingle!  Stephen Number Nine was floundering around, pies continuously hitting him from right and left.  Three spider monkeys were caught by one of Stephen Number Ten’s expertly flung flans!  Two gorillas were loosing bananas like torpedos; one was slipping a banana on the ground and the other was stamping on the banana, firing it at the Sixteen Stephens.  Stephen Number Fourteen had a banana in each eye, one in each ear, one in his mouth and one in either nostril.  He looked like a comedy Viking helmet.  And as the custard was thrown, so was the jelly and cream and cake and tomatoes and watermelon and buns and Stephen Number Ten was working his way through his bandolier of éclairs.  The head zookeeper couldn’t quite work out what to do.  He pulled his hat off his head and grabbed at his ears.  He closed his eyes and hoped it would all go away.  It didn’t.  Soon there wasn’t a centimetre of the zoo not covered in delicious yellow goo.  The orang-utan was swimming in a puddle of custard and blowing spouts of sweetness into the air like a dessert-loving whale.  He looked at Saffron and winked a custardy wink.  Saffron blinked in surprise.  She laughed.

Andrew looked about him and smiled.  He gave a click of his fingers and the custard disappeared.  The monkeys and the apes were all back in their enclosures.  The Sixteen Stephens were sat in the café and tucking into their ice-cream sundaes (Stephen Number Eight’s was especially ice-creamy and sundae-y!  He was very full up).  Saffron stood opposite the orang-utan enclosure and watched the orang-utans eating their own sundaes.  Their smiles were as large as those of the ghosts.  Saffron gave the biggest orang-utan a wave.  He waved back.

*

“So,” said Saffron, back in the attic with the gang of ghosts after their trip home.  “Did you enjoy your day out?”

“I did,” said Stephen Number Five.

“My favourite bit was when none of the creatures ate us,” said Stephen Number Fifteen.

“Yes,” said Stephen Number Seven, “And I quite liked how the hyenas decided not to be sneaky or devious and escape from their enclosure.”  Andrew smiled a funny smile.

“That’s right,” Stephen Number Six joined in, “And none of the crocodiles got us either!”

“Well,” said Stephen Number Twelve, “ I think I quite like zoos.”  There was a lot of nodding and Stephen Number Ten twirled a custard pie in agreement.

“I definitely enjoyed the zoo, too,” said Stephen Number Eight, “Zoos serve the best ice-cream ever.”

Saffron giggled and gave Bruno a cwtch.

Saffron waved, and the orang-utans enjoyed their sundaes and waved back!

Saffron & Bruno and an Origin Story

...And then he came out of himself...again and again and again and...

Saffron lay on her bed, Bruno in the crook of her arm, and she read a story about a colourful factory owner who eventually gifts his factory to a young boy.  Accompanying the many pictures of ghosts that covered her walls were photographs from a fantastic summer holiday.  Her mother had given her these photos because, mysteriously, in each of them Saffron appeared to be laughing uncontrollably even though there didn’t appear to be anything to laugh at!  Every now and again, Saffron would look up from her book and smile as a memory of custard or colouring in crept into her head.  What a wonderful holiday it had been.

They’d been back from holiday for a few weeks now, and Saffron was back at school and the leaves were threatening to turn red and orange and yellow on the trees.  The evenings were getting darker quicker and the fire in the front room was being lit ever earlier in the day.  As the evenings drew in and the temperature began to fall, there was nothing more Saffron enjoyed that cwtching up with Bruno and getting lost in a good story.

Up above Saffron came the sounds of the evening walking through walls practice.  She was so accustomed to the bumps and the “ouches” she hardly noticed them now.  She did sometimes wonder if the Sixteen Stephens would ever learn to walk through walls…she rather assumed that it was compulsory for a ghost to be able to do that; not so, it would seem.  Saffron closed her book, put it down on the bed, and with Bruno wrapped in her arms, she climbed the stairs to the attic to watch the practice take place.

Whilst she may have been accustomed to the sounds, the sight of sixteen ghosts lined up, facing a wall, and repeatedly walking into it was a sight Saffron always found funny.  She did feel a little sympathy for Stephen Number Four when he turned to greet her and she saw just how red and sore his nose looked.

“Feel yourself dissolving through the wall," Andrew was saying, “Become one with the wall and then become not one with the wall as you reach the other side of the wall…and then remember you are in the attic and so there is a bit of drop when you do eventually get outside…” Saffron giggled.

“Ooooh, heights!”  Exclaimed Stephen Number Six, “You never said anything about heights!”

“You know how we feel about heights,” said Stephen Number Thirteen, “You know we’re not fond of them.”
“To be completely fair,” said Stephen Number Eleven, “It’s not the heights, as such.  It’s more the ground being quite so far away.”
“…And just how hard it is when you go bump into it…” moaned Stephen Number Fourteen.

“…Unless you land on a trampoline,” said Stephen Number Three, “in which case the ground becomes so very far away again ever so quickly!”

“…And I hate it when you land on a hedge or a rose bush, they’re prickly!”  Complained Stephen Number Sixteen.

“You all do seem to be forgetting that you can float,” said Andrew with a weary smile on his face.

“Oh, well,” said Stephen Number Ten, “That’s all well and good for when you’re starting off floating near the floor but it’s quite another matter when the floor takes you by surprise by being quite so far away!”
“Another matter entirely,” murmured Stephen Number Twelve and the rest of the Sixteen Stephens.  Andrew shook his head and rolled his eyes.  Saffron giggled and gave Bruno a bit of a squeeze.  She sat in the middle of the attic floor and watched the ghosts resume their practice.

“Drift through the bricks,” Andrew intoned, “They want to welcome you through them…”  Stephen Number Nine tutted and he could be heard muttering about bricks and welcomes.  Saffron caught Andrew’s eye and she saw the quick wink he gave her.  She beamed.  Saffron never felt happier than when she was surrounded by her ghostly friends.

A little while later, after walking through wall practice had ended and none of the Sixteen Stephens had managed to walk through a wall, the gaggled of ghosts and Saffron and Bruno sat in the attic and enjoyed a late-evening snack.  Night had fallen and the stars were twinkling in the sky, a crescent moon hung in the darkness and the wan light crept in through the attic’s window.  Saffron cleared her throat and the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew looked at her, Stephen Number Eight pausing in eating his seventh scone and Stephen Number Ten ceasing to spin a custard pie on the end of his finger.  Saffron felt all the eyes on her.  She held on to Bruno and blushed a little.

“I wonder whether I could ask you a question?”  She said, at last.

“Is that the question?”  Asked Stephen Number One, “Because, if it is, you’ve already asked it and there’s no point in…”  Andrew hushed him.

“Twenty Eight,” said Stephen Number Twelve.

“Pardon?”  Said Saffron.

“Twenty Eight,” said Stephen Number Twelve, “ I was just trying to anticipate the answer to your question,” he smiled, “Was I right?”  Saffron shook her head.

“Ask your question,” said Andrew, kindly.

“Well,” Saffron felt hesitant, “I wondered where you came from… and how you ended up in this attic and how come I can see you and so can Rachel, and Bruno, of course, but Mum and Dad can’t see you and I just wondered, you see, where you’re actually from, and…?”  Saffron fell quiet and looked at the ghosts.  There was a pause and a silence.

“You want to know where we came from?”  Asked Stephen Number One.

“And, how come we ended up in this attic?”  Added Stephen Number Eight.

“And you want to know how come you can see us but your parents can’t?”  Said Stephen Number Eleven.

There was another pause.

“You want to know our origin story,” said Stephen Number Twelve.

“I don’t know any stories about oranges,” said Stephen Number Fourteen.

“I do know a short anecdote about a mandarin,” said Stephen Number Five, after a moment’s thought.

“Oooh, I know a story about a pineapple,” said Stephen Number Eight, “does that help?”

“I only know stories about custard, really,” said Stephen Number Ten, “I’m not really into fruit that much…”

“Our origin story,” said Stephen Number Twelve, “Not oranges!”  Saffron giggled a little and nodded her head.

“Yes,” she said, “I’d very much like to know your origin story.”  The ghosts looked at each and nodded.  They settled down in a circle, around her, and all looked at Andrew for him to begin to tell the tale.

*

Andrew looked into Saffron’s eyes.  She could feel the kindness and warmth emanate from within him.  She felt safe and ready to hear the story, whatever it may be.  Andrew smiled and then he began to speak.

“Stephen and I go a long way back together,” he said, “We have been friends for hundreds of years.  We first met when we were twelve years old, just a little bit older than you are now, Saffron.  We worked together and we were the best of friends.”  Saffron looked around the room.  The Sixteen Stephens were all concentrating on Andrew.  Some had rested their heads on their hands and were led on their bellies; others were just sat on the floor.  All were watching Andrew as he told their story.  “We worked on a farm, not far from here; just along from where Farmer Filbert has his now.  This has always been farmland.  We used to help the farmer with the harvest.  Stephen was skilled with a scythe; no one could keep up with him as he cut the hay.  And he was brilliant at picking too.  The farmer had wheat fields and orchards and he had a herd of cows and some sheep…” Andrew seemed to get lost in his memories.  He smiled.

“We used to help out with the shearing.  It was a great way to keep your feet warm, letting all the wool gather around your toes.  Sheep after sheep would come in and bleat and moan about having its wool cut off.  We’d scoop it up and get it into sacks, ready for carding and spinning, but we’d always make sure we’d get some around out toes.  The wool would still be warm from the sheep’s body.

Anyway, when we were old enough, they let us shear the sheep ourselves.  That’s when they started to reckon Stephen wasn’t well.  One day, instead of shearing the sheep, he tried dancing with one.  He looked ever so funny but when we spoke about it later, he couldn’t remember it at all.  Then, one late summer’s day at the orchard, some of the apples had rotted.  Stephen began throwing them at the other pickers.  We had a massive food fight.  It was so much fun.  Then when we tried to speak about it the next day, he couldn’t remember anything about that either.  Sometimes he’d eat and eat and eat and then the next minute he’d complain about being starving.  He’d try and be real clever but he’d always get things a little bit wrong.  That’s when I heard the farmer talking about all the voices he was hearing coming from Stephen.  It didn’t make any sense to me.

Well, we stayed working on the farm.  Years, we were there.  Stephen seemed to be getting worse.  Sometimes I’d see him arguing with himself.  Sometimes he’d be squashing pies into his own face and laughing and trying to eat the pie all at the same time.  Some people would try and avoid him but he was my friend.  I’d known him all my life, it seemed.  And then came the fire in the barn…”  Saffron realised she had her mouth open and was clutching Bruno tight to her chest.  She shook her head a little, and looked round.  The Sixteen Stephens were listening with rapt attention, as if they were hearing this story for the first time, too.  As she looked, the Sixteen Stephens began to swim in her vision, sixteen and then one and then sixteen and then one.  Saffron looked back at Andrew again.

“Now, just you remember that we’re all here and we’re all happy and alright, ok?”  Said Andrew.  Saffron nodded and Andrew continued, “I still don’t know how it started but, anyway, there was a fire.  And we all stood and we all watched and it was a real shame but it was only a barn.  And then Stephen started to shout and get all angry that no one was trying to do anything to save her.  They all thought he was being crazy again and ignored him but he kept on shouting and screaming about saving her.  He kept saying he could hear her screaming for help.  The farmer got really angry and slapped him, saying it was just a barn and not a her and for Stephen to get a grip on himself.  Stephen wasn’t listening and he kept shouting about saving her and then he started walking up and down and gesticulating and speaking with himself and I can remember the conversation, different voices, different ideas about how to get her out; and then he was off, racing to the barn.  No one could stop him.  Straight into the blaze he ran, right through the wall; he just smashed his way through it!  They couldn’t believe their eyes.  But, he was my friend, so I went in after him.

I got to the barn and the doors collapsed open.  There in the heart of the building, Stephen was carrying a little girl.  It was the farmer’s daughter.  She must’ve been playing in the barn when it caught and she was trapped.  Only Stephen could see her, only Stephen could hear her.  Only he knew she was in danger.  That’s what he’d been shouting about and that’s why he ran into the burning building.  Of course, as soon as I saw what was happening, I rushed in too.  I could hear the voices of the farmer and his workers yelling and screaming for me to come back but they couldn’t see what I could see.  They couldn’t see Stephen and the girl.

I reached Stephen and he handed her to me.  I turned and carried her to the doorway.  It was getting so thick with smoke; I could hardly see where the entrance had been.  I got her out.  When I turned around, Stephen was trapped.  Some roof beams had fallen down and the bales had well and truly gone alight.  I rushed back to try and free him and then… well, that was that…

I will never forget how brave Stephen was that day.  He saved that girl.  And then all there was was just us.  The ashes of the barn all around and me and him stood looking at each other.  He had the biggest grin on his face I’d ever seen.  And he sort of shrugged and then he shrugged again, and shook himself and he went all blurry; and then he came out of himself, and then he came out again, and again, and again, and again, and then there were sixteen of him: all different voices; all different personalities; all different Stephens.  His eyes were bright and clear.  His faces were full of smiles.  And he laughed, all sixteen of him.  I’d never seen him happier!  It was the most joyous bellow of laughter I had ever heard.  And then he picked up a pie and threw it at himself but before it could hit him, another one of him caught it in his mouth and ate it all whole… and he laughed again!  And his laughter was joined by the higher pitched laughter of a little girl, the farmer’s daughter.  The girl he’d saved.  She could see us, all of us.  And that’s been it, I suppose, from there on in.  If there’s a little girl in the household, the little girl can see us and so can her friends and other girls of her age.  We’ve been here for quite some time now; house after house, family after family… Quite some time, that’s for sure.  And, I imagine we’ll be here for quite some time more.”  Andrew stopped speaking and smiled at Saffron.  Saffron smiled back.  There was a pause and a silence.  Saffron looked around at the amazed faces of the Sixteen Stephens.

“Why are they looking at you like that?”  She asked.

“He can’t remember,” said Andrew, “Whenever I tell this story, it’s the first time he’s heard it…He’ll have forgotten it again in a little while.”

“And only girls can see you?”  Asked Saffron.

“Well, there was one man.”  Said Andrew with a curious look on his face, “Centuries ago… I’ll never forget him.  He was stood out by the gate.  He had a couple of friends with him and they were squabbling about when they were going to meet next, and they were going on about the weather.  He saw me at the window; but only he saw me, I’m sure of that.  He was smoking a long cigar, I remember that as clear as day, and I leant out the window and shouted, ‘That’s a filthy habit!  It’ll do you no good!’  He looked up, hushed his friends’ chatter, and he said, ‘Peace, break thee off.  Look where it comes; will’t come again!?’…or something like that.  There’s been no one else… other than that it’s just girls; girls like you, Saffron,” and Andrew smiled again.  And Saffron smiled too.  There was a pause and a silence.

“He still hasn’t said anything about oranges,” said Stephen Number Seven.

“No, you’re right,” said Stephen Number Twelve, “ …and I’ve been listening extra, very carefully.”
Andrew laughed and so did Saffron, and he gave her as big a cuddle as she was giving Bruno.

*

Saffron lay in bed and watched her ceiling.  She had come back down from the attic and all had been quiet for a minute or three.  Then, there had been the reassuring bump of the first Stephen’s nose against the wall and the “ouch!” that should follow it followed.  She listened and started to feel a bit drowsy and ready for sleep.  Her eyes opened wide when the noise ceased and there was a pause and a bit of a silence.  Then she heard a voice.

“Andrew?”

“Yes?”  Said Andrew.

“That’s a great story, that one you told tonight.  The one about our origins…”

“Yes,” said Andrew, “It is.”

“Andrew?”

“Yes?”  Said Andrew.

“When are you going to tell our grapefruit story?”

“I love grapefruits!” (That must’ve been Stephen Number Eight…)

“I don’t do fruit.  I keep telling you; I’m a custard kind of guy…”  (Stephen Number Ten)
“What about our banana story…?”  Saffron could hear Andrew sigh.  She smiled her last smile for the night, gave Bruno a cwtch, and closed her eyes to fall asleep.

An origin story...not an oranges story...

Saffron & Bruno and the Holiday...part two!

Highlighting the Great Wall of China!

Swimming in the Grand Canyon!

The holiday continued.  Saffron was sat on an aeroplane and she was giggling.  She cwtched Bruno to her and watched the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew as they played with their in-flight entertainment, tried to run emergency drill demonstrations (which came to a rapid halt when Stephen Number Fifteen couldn’t work out how to do up the seatbelt and when Stephen Number Four forget where the emergency exits were).  Stephen Number Ten had a pile of trays on his seat-back table.  He had eaten precisely seventeen meals and hadn’t thrown one of them.  Saffron was amazed.  The other Stephens snored and twisted and turned in their seats.  It was quite a sight.  Andrew read a book about China.

*

Saffron stood on the Great Wall of China and wore a look of amazement on her face.  She had been looking forward to seeing this magnificent sight for quite a long time now and it did not disappoint.  She marvelled at the ingenuity and the skill of the builders who had constructed this wonderful wall.  Behind her, the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew took in the sight too.

“Phewee!” Stephen Number Six said, “This must be the biggest garden I’ve ever seen!”

“Yeah,” agreed Stephen Number Nine, “No wonder there’s trees and plants everywhere.  I wouldn’t want to have to a mow a garden as big as this!”

“No, silly,” Saffron laughed, “This isn’t a garden wall.  It was built to keep invaders out of the country.  It was built to protect China.”

“Oh,” chorused Stephens Numbers Six and Nine.

“And, it says in my guidebook here,” announced Stephen Number Ten, “This is the only manmade object you can see from space!”

“Ooooooh!”  Chorused Stephens Numbers Six and Nine again.  Saffron giggled.  The ‘guidebook’ Stephen Number Ten was reading from was one he had written himself and had a crayon picture of the Great Wall of China drawn on the front…rather badly.  Andrew tutted and disagreed.

“You cannot see the Great Wall of China from space,” he said, “That’s just a myth.”

“What, like a young girl with a lisp?”  Asked Stephen Number Seven.

“So,” replied Stephen Number Ten after given Stephen Number Seven a bit of a stare, “What you’re saying is that the Great Wall of China is the only manmade object that can be seen from space that cannot actually be seen from space.”

“No, what I’m…” Andrew started to speak but the remainder of the Sixteen Stephens cut him off.

“Wow,” They chimed, “We’re on the only manmade object that can be seen from space that can’t be seen from space!”  Andrew rolled his eyes and Saffron giggled harder.

“I know,” said Stephen Number One, “Let’s make this the only manmade object that can be seen from space that can’t be seen from space be seen from space!”

“You mean,” queried Stephen Number Ten, “that we should make this, the only manmade object that can be seen from space that can’t be seen from space, so you can actually see it from space?”

“Precisely!”

“Brilliant!”  The Sixteen Stephens sang!

Before either Saffron or Andrew knew what was going on, the Stephens got to work.  They whipped out their yellow highlighters and started colouring in the Great Wall of China.  Furiously they worked.  Stephen Number Eight had a highlighter in each hand and was going like the clappers, covering as much of the bricks and mortar as he could.  Stephen Number Fourteen was taking his time with each brick.  You could tell he was concentrating really hard on getting the colouring in right because he had his tongue sticking out of his mouth, just like all good concentraterers do when they are working.

Stephen Number Twelve politely ushered tourists out of the way so that Stephens Numbers Two and Eleven could colour in the pathway that ran along the top of the wall.  Stephen Number Seven worked on the battlements and Stephen Number Five was making sure the turrets and towers were covered as well.  Stephen Number Ten stood back from the group, directing operations.  He had a loud hailer with him and every now and then his voice boomed across the sky.

“Watch out, Stephen, you’ve missed a bit.”

“Well done, Stephen, a majestic piece of highlighting!”

“That’s the ticket, Stephen, don’t leave any gaps!”

The wall was covered.  It was as bright as a bright yellow wall.  It was so bright Saffron had to put on her sunglasses.  Soon, the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew were all stood by her side.  Each of them had their sunglasses on and they looked on their work with pride.  Well, except for Andrew who looked on in incredulity.  All around them, tourists were walking into one another, two fell over the side of the wall and landed in the grass and the curators were rushing around here and there, pulling at their hair and wondering what on earth had happened to their Great Wall!

“There,” Said Stephen Number Ten, “This must be the only manmade object that can be seen from space that can’t be seen from space that can be seen from space, now.”  He looked very pleased with himself.  As did all the other Sixteen Stephens.

Saffron giggled and Andrew sighed.  He clicked his fingers and everything returned to normal.  “Come on,” he instructed, “I think it’s time we went to America.”

*

The Grand Canyon stood before them and, frankly, all the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew could do was gape.  Saffron had a very faraway look in her eye but she was merely transformed by the beauty of the canyon in front of her.  The smile on her face simply wouldn’t shift.

The sun shone down on the Grand Canyon, highlighting (not in the same way the Sixteen Stephens highlighted the Great Wall!) the subtle differences in the colours of the sides as they rose from the canyon floor.  Warm browns and reds, yellows and oranges lay in layers all throughout the wonder of the world.  It was a sight so beautiful is made your heart sigh.

“Do you know,” said Stephen Number Ten, “I think this would make a marvellous swimming pool.”  The other Sixteen Stephens turned to look at him.  “Could you imagine,” he continued, “all the fun you could have diving in and swimming down and climbing out and diving in again?”  The Sixteen Stephens minds started to fill with images of them in their swimming costumes and wearing nose-pegs to keep the water out and swimming caps to keep their hair dry, and they began to grin.  “You could have tremendous fun with inflatables here too,” Stephen Number Ten went on.

“That is a terrific idea,” Stephen Number Eleven agreed.  The other Sixteen Stephens nodded their heads.  Before Andrew or Saffron could react, the Sixteen Stephens got to work.

“Right,” said Stephen Number Ten, “Obviously, the best thing we can use to make a swimming pool is jelly.  Blueberry flavoured jelly.  Because it has to be blue.”  The Sixteen Stephens nodded their heads.  “And, because this is an extra special swimming pool, we are also going to add some custard and some cream to it.  That’ll give it a lovely topping.”

“Oh, yes,” The other Sixteen Stephens agreed, “Very nice.”  So, they got to work.

Stephen Number Ten directed operations once more and the others got to the mixing and the pouring and the mixing and the pouring.  Soon the Grand Canyon was completely full of blueberry flavoured jelly, custard and cream.  And the Sixteen Stephens were donning their swimming togs ready to take the plunge.  They lined up along the edge of the largest swimming pool ever created and, one by one, dived headfirst into the mixture.  Stephen Number Eight started lowering the levels of liquid by eating as much of the jelly, custard and cream as he could.  Stephen Number Three leisurely did some backstroke, whilst Stephens Number Four, Eleven, Twelve and Seven performed their synchronised swimming routine.  As they did, however, they noticed something was wrong.

“Hey,” Stephen Number Four said with a concerned look on his face, “This jelly’s getting stiffer.”

“I can hardly move my arms,” agreed Stephen Number Twelve.

“The jelly’s setting!”  Yelled Stephen Number Three.  All eyes turned to Stephen Number Ten.  Stephen Number Ten turned his eyes to the sky and whistled an innocent whistle.

“What a silly thing to do, to make a swimming pool out of jelly!”  Shrieked Stephen Number Nine, “Everyone knows that if you’re going to make a swimming pool you use Lemonade!”

“Or water,” suggested Saffron.

“Or water,” repeated Stephen Number Nine without missing a beat.

“Hey!”  Stephen Number Ten got defensive, “It’s not my fault the jelly set.  You ghosts must have made it all wrong!”

There was a pause.  And then there was the wailing and yelling and bellowing and caterwauling of one of the finest arguments you have ever had the privilege to hear, going on.  In amongst the noise two words rang out clearly.  Two words that must have belonged very specifically to one of the ghosts.  Two words that only Stephen Number Ten could have uttered.

“FOOD FIGHT!”

The jelly flew.  The jelly splatted.  The jelly sprayed.  The jelly squirted.  And so did the custard and the cream.  It hit Stephen after Stephen after Stephen after Stephen.  There was simply no escape.  Andrew opened an umbrella and he and Saffron stood under it.  Stephen Number Ten had a dollop of jelly land straight in his right ear.  Splat!  He had a dollop of cream land straight in his left ear.  Splat!  He had a dollop of custard land straight on his face.  Splat!  He wiped away his eyes and could see Stephen Number Eight standing right in front of him with his mouth moving.  There was no sound.

“Speak up.”  Said Stephen Number Ten, “I think I’ve gone a trifle deaf!”  He poked his fingers in his ears and wiggled them around to get rid of the jelly and cream.  “What did you say?”  He asked.

“I said,” said Stephen Number Eight with a great big smile on his face, “this is the tastiest food fight we’ve ever had!”  And he laughed.  And so did Stephen Number Ten.  Then the rest of the Sixteen Stephens started laughing to.  Even Stephen Number Four who was heard to murmur, “A trifle deaf!” in all the mirth and merriment.

Andrew sighed and then clicked his fingers.  The Grand Canyon was back to how it should be: all grand and canyon-y.

It was time to go home.

*

The Sixteen Stephens and Andrew were gathered around Saffron’s computer screen.  She had brought her laptop up to the attic to show the ghosts her holiday snaps.  They were oohing and ahhing at the wonderful pictures she had taken.  The pyramids looked spectacular with the camel and the palm trees in the foreground.  The Leaning Tower of Pisa defied gravity and looked glorious in the summer sun.  The Great Wall of China snaked away into the distance with a size and scale they simply could not get over.  And the Grand Canyon looked simply just that: grand.  Of course, there were some other photographs.  The Sixteen Stephens and Andrew trying to decipher the hieroglyphics and arguing with a mummy.  The Sixteen Stephens filling the basement of the Leaning Tower of Pisa with custard.  The Great Wall of China radiating colour and definitely being the manmade object that could be seen from space that couldn’t be seen from space that could be seen from space.  Lastly, of course, the tastiest food fight there had ever been – the Sixteen Stephens in all manner of swimming togs throwing jelly, custard and cream at one another.  Saffron was delighted with the pictures and so were the ghosts.

She left them to get on with their walking through walls practice (they hadn’t done any for a fortnight (not even at the Great Wall of China – which you would have thought would have been the perfect place for that!)) and she walked back down to her bedroom where Bruno was waiting for her.  She swept her toy frog up in her arms and cuddled him.  What a truly amazing holiday.  The best she’d ever been on.