Saffron and Bruno and Being A Bit Pooh

A lot was going on outside the attic.  The clouds had formed outside the attic.  The wind was blowing outside the attic.  The rain was falling outside the attic.  The sniggering was occurring inside the attic.  Saffron sat with a smile on her face and tried desperately hard to not to have a smile on her face.  She was the cause of the sniggering and was doing her very best to not join in such childish laughter.  It was all the fault of a book she had been reading.  She’d was enjoying it so much she came up to the attic to tell the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew all about it.  They had listened closely, nodded in the right places and had just the amount of excitement in their eyes to show they were listening quite properly.  After Saffron had finished telling them all about the bear and his friends and their stories, Stephen Number Seven asked, “And his name is ‘poo’ bear?” and the Sixteen Stephens had sniggered.  When Saffron tried to explain, they sniggered more and when she tried to tell them about the game of pooh-sticks the sniggering was quite uncontrollable. – “No wonder you throw them in the water…they must be so dirty!” was one comment -.  It was at this point Saffron knew she would have to exit the attic otherwise her own self-control may just melt.  She could hear herself and she could also hear herself using Sixteen Stephen ears, too.  The sniggering continued unabated.  Saffron allowed herself a small smile as she left the room.

The sniggering got louder the more Saffron read! 

A couple of days later Saffron marched back into the attic, through the eggshell blue painted door, and announced that she, Bruno (naturally), Natty and Rachel were going to the park to “be a bit Pooh” and if the ghosts wanted to come along then that would be just fine too.  The surprised ghosts didn’t have time to snigger at the sentence before she had turned on her heels and walked back out the eggshell blue door, shutting it as she went.  There was a moment’s pause and then the frantic hurryings of sixteen ghosts frantically trying to find their hats, gloves and scarves and one calm and collected ghost handing out hats, gloves and scarves.  The Sixteen Stephens and Andrew followed Saffron out of the eggshell blue door and off to the park to “be a bit Pooh”.

*

The village park was an absolute beauty.  There were walkways through forest areas, planted deep with woodland flowers that bloomed and echoed each and every jot of dappled light with an oasis of colour.  The scents of sweetness mashed up against the scents of the foliage and earth that mulched to make up the pathways.  The trees were tall and sturdy, offering ample opportunity for a hundred adventures in each and every one.  Through the forested areas came the flower gardens themselves, flowerbeds and trimmed privets flowing a funnelling pattern that drew you to the ornamental ponds and fountains spread here and there throughout.  A grassed, open area shouted out for children to come and play sports and rough and tumble games of running and action.  A bank formed an amphitheatre and wooden staging gave permission for children (and some grown-ups) to perform.  A row of swings introduced you to a climbing frame and then a tyre-swing and slide and a roundabout and a pirate’s ship of webbing and rigging to climb and explore the seven seas from.  It was a glorious park.  The café in the corner did a wonderful creamed bun and the ice-cream counter was always hidden behind a queue.  Saffron, Bruno, Natty and Rachel breathed in the air of the park, allowed their cheeks to go a little bit pin-pricked pink at the corners of their mouths and then they raced off together to find the stream in the forest.

The bridge over the stream was just how a bridge in a park should look.  The girls ran onto it and the gorgeous sound as the muffled footsteps of the earthy path to the harder softness of feet on wood rang a percussive ring around their part of the park.  As they had run to the bridge they had paused and searched amongst the leaves and flowers and twigs for the perfect floating sticks, the perfect “pooh-sticks”, in fact.  Now, they gathered at the side of the bridge and readied themselves.  The Sixteen Stephens and Andrew swarmed around to get a good look at what was going on.

“Are you ready?”  Saffron asked.  The gleeful smiled noises of ascent confirmed the other two were ready.

“Are you set?”  Saffron asked.  She could sense the nodding from the girls either side of her.

“Then, G…”

“Hold on,” interrupted Stephen Number Twelve, floating right in front of the three girls, “Aren’t you going to explain how this all works?”  The three girls looked at him in slight annoyance and Saffron scrunched her nose a bit.

“I did explain how it all works to you, the other day,” Stephen Number Twelve looked a bit puzzled, “but you lot were all so busy sniggering at the word ‘pooh’ that none of you were listening!”

“Hah! Poo!”  Went Stephen Number Three and the Sixteen Stephens were instantly divided into the still sniggering camp and the wanting to know how this all works camp.

“Anyway,” said Saffron, “It’s really easy.  You just drop your ‘pooh-stick’ into the river and the current takes it under the bridge.  The first stick out the other side is the winner.  See?  Easy.”  The Sixteen Stephens all nodded, Andrew smiled a smile to himself.  There was a pause.  And then the questions started.

“How do you know it’s your stick?”  Asked Stephen Number One.

“How do you get the winning stick back, doesn’t it just float away?”  Asked Stephen Number Nine.

“Can you fit a sail on to your stick?”  Asked Stephen Number Seven.

“Can you use gravel instead?”  Asked Stephen Number Two.

“Can you drop rocks on the other sticks to stop them getting under the bridge?”  Asked Stephen Number Sixteen.

“How about if you put a small engine on the back of your stick, is that allowed?”  Asked Stephen Number Seven, obviously having had time to ponder about and then elaborate on his earlier question.  Saffron sighed.

“Because first you pick a stick that’s easily identifiable.  Yes, the stick just floats away and you pick another one.  No, you can’t.  No.  No, that’s cheating. And, no, definitely not.”  Answered Saffron, patiently, “Just watch and see.”  The three girls got ready again.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”
“Are you set?”  There were more nods.

“Then…GO!”  The three girls dropped their sticks into the stream, bent over the railing as far as was safely possible to see the path their sticks were taking and then rushed across the bridge to the opposite railings and hopped up and down with excitement, leaning over the edge to see just how well their ‘pooh-stick’ was travelling.

Pooh-sticks at the ready!

On the bank of the stream, the Sixteen Stephens had decorated themselves with banners and pom-poms, cheering the sticks on.

“Come on Sticks! Come on Sticks!”  Stephen Number Twelve appeared at their fore with a megaphone.

“Give me an S!”
“What for?”
“I don’t have an ‘s’.”

“Why do you want an ‘s’?”  Stephen Number Twelve put down the megaphone.  Natty was jumping with glee, her stick had come out from the under the bridge first.  The three girls rushed back to the pathway to select their next ‘pooh-stick’ and the race was on again.  Stephen Number Twelve gave it another try.

“Give me an S!”

“I’ve already told you, I haven’t got an ‘s’!”

“What for?”

“Why do you keep asking for ‘s’s?”  The fifteen other of the Sixteen Stephens went pack to waving their banners and pom-poms.  This time, Saffron’s stick came through first.  The girls selected one more time and got ready to race one more time.  The Sixteen Stephens could not contain themselves.  They all rushed to the pathways to choose their own ‘pooh-sticks’.  They crowded along the bridge and got ready to race themselves.

“Are you ready?”  Then they had to wait whilst Stephen Number Four, Stephen Number Eight, Stephen Number Fifteen and Stephen Number Sixteen all went and chose new sticks because they had tried to cheat by fitting sails or engines, streamlining their stick, attaching ducks, etc.

“Are you ready, this time?”  Then they had to wait as the spectacle was repeated, this time by Stephens Number Three, Nine, Ten, Eleven and Fifteen, again.

“Are you rea…don’t you dare, Stephen!”  Stephen Number Fifteen looked a bit sheepish.  “Are you ready?  Are you set?  Then Go!”  The Sixteen Stephens all released their sticks and rushed across to the opposite railing to wait to see who had won.  They waited.  They waited a bit more.  They waited just one little bit more and then a stick floated out from under the bridge followed by Stephen Number Fifteen celebrating his win and holding fifteen other sticks in his hands.  He looked a bit sheepish again when he saw the glare he was getting from the rest of the ghostly gaggle.  Saffron and the others found this very funny.

As the afternoon wore on, and the Sixteen Stephens got very competitive at ‘pooh-sticks’ – Stephen Number Twelve started a league table, Stephen Number Three started a sweepstake and Stephen Number Fifteen started having to stop cheating – the girls made daisy chains and considered whether to go and wait in the queue at the ice-cream counter.  Stephen Number Four floated over to where Saffron was sitting on a bench that sat on the side of one of the forest pathways leading from the bridge.

“What else does this pooey-bear do then?”  He asked her.

“’Pooh Bear’ is kind to his friends and helps them out, he loves being with his best friend Christopher Robin and, um, he also loves honey, so he spends quite a bit of time trying to get on a hold of that,” said Saffron.

“Honey?”  Said Stephen Number Eight, “I enjoy honey, yes.  I am feeling a bit peckish, actually, yes.  I could go with finding some honey.”  Saffron rolled her eyes but the rest of the Sixteen Stephens floated over and agreed with their empty bellied buddy.  They were all feeling a bit hungry and some honey, especially some honey spread on some buns, would go down a right treat.

“So, then,” said Stephen Number Four, “How does ‘Pooh Bear’ get his honey?”

“Well,” said Saffron, “He tries to get it from the bees, naturally.”

“From the bees, of course,” said Stephen Number Four, “And they sell him some honey and then he, what, buys the buns from the baker and bob’s your uncle?”
“No, silly,” laughed Saffron, “’Winnie the Pooh’ climbs up and tries to get the honey straight from a beehive up in a tree, but he falls and then he tries to disguise himself as a cloud, that doesn’t work either….”

“Right, right,” said Stephen Number Four, “bit of a master-tactician, this ‘Winnie the Pooh’, isn’t he?”

“Not really,” giggle Saffron.  Stephen Number Four was lost in thought.  Stephen Number Eight appeared at his shoulder. 

“Have you thought of a way to get some honey, yet?”  He asked his thoughtful friend.  Stephen Number Four continued to ponder, seeming not to hear the words of his hungry companion.  A look of inspiration came into his eyes.

“Got it.”  Said Stephen Number Four.  “Follow me.”  He floated away, down the pathway running alongside the bank of the stream.  The rest of the Sixteen Stephens floated off after him, as did Andrew.  Saffron, Bruno, Natty and Rachel followed suit, they were curious to find out exactly what Stephen Number Four’s plan was.

*

“This,” said Saffron, “is the supermarket.”

“Yes,” said Stephen Number Four, “Yes it is.”  The remainder of the Sixteen Stephens looked on in askance, well Stephen Number Eight hopped and fidgeted about because someone had mentioned honey a fair while ago now and he still hadn’t eaten any and he was getting a bit edgy, but the rest of them looked on.  Saffron looked a little bit puzzled, as did the other two girls.  Andrew already knew what Stephen Number Four was about to say…pretty much to the letter.

“Yeah, you see,” explained Stephen Number Four, “bees, yes, bees, they sting, and branches in trees, as like what happened to your friend Mr Pooh break, and balloons fool nobody, not even stinging bees, so I thought that we should just come to the supermarket and get our honey from here.”

“That’s not really in the spirit of ‘Pooh Bear’,” said Saffron.

“And they swarm!”  Said Stephen Number Four, “Did you know that?  A swarm of bees, it’s called; that can’t be a good thing surely?”
That’s right,” Stephen Number Twelve chipped in, “you never hear the word ‘swarm’ followed by a positive noun, do you?”  Everyone shrugged, Stephen Number Three wondered what a noun was. “You never say, ‘oh, look at that swarm of cakes’, do you?  Or, ‘that’s a lovely swarm of sausages over there’.”  The ghosts’ heads nodded a bit, except Stephen Number Eight who had now just heard the words cake and sausages and was salivating like a fury.

“Please, can someone just feed me food!?”  It took all his self-restraint to manage a fairly polite sentence.

“Hold your horses, hold your horses,” said Stephen Number Four, “I’ve got to come up with the second bit of the plan, yet.”

“I haven’t got any horses!”  Yelled Stephen Number Eight.

“What do you mean, ‘come up with the second part of the plan’, exactly?”  Asked Stephen Number Twelve.

“Well,” said Stephen Number Four, “this bit took a lot of thinking of, getting to the supermarket; now I have to think about how we’re going to get the honey and the buns out of there and into here.”  Stephen Number Four pointed at his and Stephen Number Eight’s bellies.  Stephen Number Eight started to whimper.

“You mean,” said Saffron, “You’re not just going to go in to the shop and buy some honey and some buns?”

“Brilliant!”  Said Stephen Number Four, “Absolutely brilliant!  Like all the best plans, simple and concise.”  Saffron rolled her eyes.  Natty and Rachel giggled, as did Andrew.  The Sixteen Stephens snuck into the supermarket and headed for the honey aisle.

The Sixteen Stephens edged their way down one aisle and up the next.  They moved as surreptitiously as they could, their backs to the produce, covering each other’s backs, lots of hand signals and crawling commando style along the floor, and a fair amount of sidling too.  After they had traversed the supermarket a few times, finding not a single pot of honey, they decided that reading the signs that indicated what produce was to be found in which aisle was a terrific secondary idea to add to the already wonderful plan they were implementing.  Aisle number eight was the answer, ironically.  Off they floated.  They found the honey, argued over what type of honey to buy, made a hurried decision because Stephen Number Eight was in the course of coming apart at the seams, and then headed for the checkout.

The checkout queue was tense.  The Sixteen Stephens waited in line and inched forward each and every time a person paid.  The checkout operator took in his stride the fact that a pot of honey appeared on his conveyor without apparently having been put there by a person.  Perhaps a supervisor had gone by and wanted a price check done on the item?  He scanned the honey and called out “One pound fifty, Sandra!”  The Sixteen Stephens did many a head turn and wondered who on earth was Sandra?  Sandra the supervisor turned around and wondered why one of her checkout operators was calling out random sums of money to her!

And then panic took over the Sixteen Stephens!

The Sixteen Stephens began to panic.  Stephen Number Four tentatively reached out and picked up the pot of honey and began to float for the exit.  The checkout operator stared in disbelief as the pot rose in the air and began to move toward the door.

“Um…”  He started to say.  At that point Stephen Number Four panicked properly, dropped the honey on the floor, shouted, “I’m not a criminal!” and legged it out of the shop – well, sort of legged it, considering he doesn’t have any legs.  The rest of the Sixteen Stephens scarpered – sort of – after him and found him a heap of sweat and remorse in the car park.

“I’m sorry, guys,” said Stephen Number Four, “I just couldn’t do it.”

“I’m glad you couldn’t,” said Saffron, who was looking quite stern, “That wouldn’t have been a bit Pooh if you have taken that honey without paying.  Come on.”  The now rather embarrassed Sixteen Stephens sloped along after Saffron, Bruno and the others.  Andrew was bringing up the rear.  He’d cleared up the pot of honey with a click of his fingers.

*

Back at the café on the park, equilibrium had been restored.  Saffron had laid on a beautiful spread of honey buns and ice-cream.  The ghosts sat and ate, Saffron put her change into her pocket.

“So, it’s money just for your pocket?”  Stephen Number Twelve enquired.  Saffron giggled and shook her head.

Stephen Number Eight was replete...eventually. 

The rest of the Sixteen Stephens and Andrew were replete.  They were glad they had neither to climb a tree nor pilfer a pot to gain a taste of honey.  Natty and Rachel slurped at their 99’s and chomped on their flakes.  The whole gang was absolutely in sweetness heaven.

Saffron nibbled on her bun and thought about the day.  What a day it had been:  fun on the bridge, silliness at the supermarket and cosiness sitting around having an afternoon tea with your best friends.  Even in the escapade at the supermarket Stephen Number Four had only been trying to help out a friend.  Yes; all in all the day had been a little bit ‘Pooh’.