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Choosing a friend

The Reader, now shaking with fear, looked out to sea. The situation was indeed dire.

The pirate ship was approaching fast.

The Reader looked in her pocket. Her trusty skipping rope was there and had never failed her yet. Even so, she could not help thinking that it was going to be a tall order: herself and her skipping rope against that shipful of sea-thugs.

‘STOP!!!’

The Reader looked round in surprise. Everything had indeed stopped. The sea had stopped lapping the shore, the breeze had stopped blowing, the gulls had stopped shrieking, the ship had stopped sailing. In fact there was only one thing that was moving, and that was Mr Glue.

‘No, no, no!’ said Mr Glue, crossly. ‘The whole point of this is that you don’t have to do it on your own. One of your mates gets to come and join in. Don’t you see?’

‘How can I see?’ asked the Reader, nervously. ‘I mean, here I am on the beach, there’s a pirate ship and…’

‘And now you choose a friend to help you! Honestly! Anyone would think you were stupid.’

‘But how was I to know?’ said the Reader, looking totally confused.

‘Oh. Well. Choosing a friend – it’s just the same as before – you know, with choosing an enemy…’ Mr Glue swept his hat off his head and pulled out the torch-cannon. ‘There.’

And switching it on (as he had done before), three enormous figures were projected in its beam up into the sky.

The Reader looked delighted.

‘That’s easy,’ she said. ‘Snuffles. I choose Snuffles. He is the bravest of the brave.’

snuffles_mouse

 

‘Well, that’s all right then,’ said Mr Glue. ‘You can carry on.’

And everything did carry on.

 

 

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