29 August 2014

Boiled Cabbage

Case 1: The Case of the Missing Turnips (Part 3)

14th June
     
Woke up and felt ill. It was either mums boiled cabbage or the punch to the stomach I got when collared by Clare Flynn's dad on the way home from a disappointing day looking for clues. I had decided to start at the end of the village which happened to be the park, saw that nobody was around and ended up playing on the swings. It gave me time to think, swinging backwards and forwards, without a care in the world. After some 3 hours of swinging, the kids that had been waiting for a go decided to take action and push me off. Slightly annoyed at this I thought about reclaiming the swing, giving up when a number of the kids mums decided to gather around me and vent their anger. I decided it best to get back to searching for clues, although coming up with nothing unfortunately. Getting hit in the stomach upon returning to our house certainly did bring some things up and it certainly wasn't clues about turnips or missing pigs. I tried to apologise to Clare Flynns dad, stating that I was deeply involved in an important mission but he was having none of it. So putting my ill health to this blow to the stomach and not mums boiled cabbages I decided to stay in bed and think about what to do next and also watch the paint dry on my newly decorated walls. Pink wasn't really my colour but I had no say in the matter. Jock the Block as he was known (him being Scottish and a bodybuilder) had done some decorating and being mums "friend" thought that pink would suit me. I just think it's their way of getting me to move out and having a laugh at my expense, thinking I wouldn't want to live in a pink coloured room. I'd show them. So I watched the paint dry, the case could wait.

Then shouting from downstairs shattered the silence. Forgetting to dress and forgetting the slippery carpet, I tripped and fell down the stairs. I flew towards the carpet below. It was a heavy landing, not helped because Jock the Block had been moving cupboards. That too decided it wanted to fall down the stairs at the same time; must have knocked it in the mayhem. We met at the bottom with a loud crash. It was a cupboard no more and I wasn't exactly in tip top shape either. The splinters would take days to remove. Moving all the broken bits of wood away I turned to see that mum was being held hostage. A short woman (well they were wearing a dress and a pair of female slippers so I assumed they were) was holding what looked like a plastic hammer and wearing a balaclava. She/they were struggling to hold mum but she still managed looked at me and in a terrible impersonation of a deep mans voice spoke.

"Sonny!" , she said. I told her my name was John. "John", she said. I congratulated them on getting it right. "Don't work on this case, otherwise you and your mother will be in great danger". 

Wanting to delay her I tried to make conversation.  I told her that mum was past it anyway. I got a stare from mum but that was probably more to do with standing there naked than the comment. The mystery person looked at mum and seemed to agree with her. Seizing her moment she dropped mum to the floor and fled shouting we had been warned. Leaving mum to pick herself up I gave chase. But by the time I reached the gate they had gone, they certainly moved rather swiftly for someone wearing slippers and anyway I needed to visit the loo and being naked didn't help. The days events had taken their toll not only on my body but my stomach, head, arms and toes and I needed to do some explaining to mum. The case felt like it was moving forward somewhat, but who was the mystery person? Were they the kidnappers of the pigs and thieves of the turnips? I was about to find out.

To be continued.....

SHARE:

AdSense

© Sketches in Travel. All rights reserved.
BLOGGER TEMPLATE MADE BY pipdig