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  Benjie Becomes a Boy Again

  Benjie says goodbye to the blue shoes and hello to Topsy, the new trapeze artist who is sometimes sent to the same class. But she will not talk to Benjie. He is far too fat and, for the first time, he feels unhappy.

  For one whole week Benjie thinks thin. Even sitting in his special box every evening, he thinks thin. He imagines all the thin things in the world. He stops eating chocolate-covered peanuts and feeds half his baked beans to Bongo, the black bear who eats anything.

  But Benjie remains very fat indeed. And as he thinks of thin things, fat ones keep coming up instead. Coloured balloons, filled fit to burst with air, suet puddings sitting on enormous plates and striped beach balls that will not stop bouncing before his eyes.

  Then one morning, Benjie finds his legs are as thin as twigs and when he walks, his old brown shoes fall off the back of his feet, and over the top of his check trousers, he can see his toes quite clearly. His face is long and thin, which makes his eyes look like big grey saucers.

  “I AM thin!” he says.

  There is a high wind outside and several times on his way to school, Benjie is almost lifted off his feet.

  “Topsy!” he calls, as a great gust blows him into the playground. Topsy appears from behind the bicycle shed and stops, her mouth open wide.

  “Look how thin I am,” says Benjie, gazing down proudly at his shrunken feet in their big brown shoes.

  “Hello - are you the new boy?” asks Topsy, wondering how anyone could be so thin and not blow away.

  “No, I’m Benjie. You know me.” But Topsy does not. And when Donald arrives, he does not know him either. In the classroom, Miss Oates, the teacher, says, “I’m not expecting any new boys - go away!”

  So Benjie goes into the playground and sits down sadly in the wind. But the wind billows round him and, with a WHOOSH and an ear-piercing whistle, carries him off.

  The children, followed by Miss Oates, run out of the classroom to see Benjie bumping away into the blue, his thin arms flapping helplessly." He’s blowing towards the Big Top,” says Topsy.

  As Benjie blows near, he stretches out one arm, grabs the top and hangs on. He remembers the night he arrived at the circus and looks hopefully for the ringmaster. But no one has noticed him. So he thinks very hard of bouncing rubber beach balls, suet puddings and even his rival before he was thin - the Fat Woman at Watling Fair.

  Very slowly, his feet begin to swell, his legs fill out and his tummy grows, until it makes a deep dent in the canvas. He stops billowing back and forth and begins to thud heavily up and down.

  “Hey, what are you doing up there?” shout the clowns who have appeared below. “You’re pulling down the Big Top!”

  Then Benjie remembers his wings. But he cannot get his jacket off. Suddenly, as he lets go of the pole with one hand, the wind grabs his jacket. Hanging on again, then letting go with the other hand, the wind snatches off the second sleeve and the jacket flaps away like a fat yellow bird.

  Benjie tries to spread his crumpled wings. They seem to have shrunk and feel as fine as paper. Then, very slowly, even in the high wind, they open as a great gust blows under them. Benjie is lifted off the tent and as the wind drops for three seconds, flops head first towards the ground.

  The ringmaster, the clowns and most of the circus artists, stand in a circle round Benjie, who is rolled up in an untidy ball on the grass, his wings wafting to and fro.

  “So you DO come from the Seven Humped Hills,” murmurs the ringmaster. “No more lollipops or puddings for you, young man. You can fly and you will become our star turn.”

  Three nights later, Benjie’s grey fairy mother, wondering why Benjie has not come home, slides on her snap dragon slippers again and flaps impatiently over the Seven Humped Hills. Landing silently outside the Big Top, she flounces to and fro in the shadows, waiting for Benjie to appear.

  Five minutes later, Mrs Sprockett, Benjie’s real mother, sits down in the front row. She has queued to see the famous flying boy, but she does not know that he is Benjie.

  To a loud cheer, Benjie - much thinner now - appears, in a new blue suit and the blue shoes that Donald has given him. His wings rapidly open and close behind him as he walks. The drums roll. Benjie is about to run fast round the ring before taking off, when his grey fairy mother, flying three feet off the ground, swoops towards him with a shriek.

  The next moment, Mrs Sprockett, who has also recognised Benjie, leaps from her front row seat and collides with the grey fairy as she lands with a thud in front of Benjie.

  “My son!” cries Mrs Sprockett.

  “My son!” echoes the grey fairy, hovering now in agitation. The audience mutters and fidgets and the ringmaster raises his hands in despair. Benjie’s wings sag in confusion.

  The ringmaster, blinking in disbelief at the grey fairy, then at Mrs Sprockett, demands, “Who, may I ask, are you?”

  “His mother!” cry Mrs Sprockett and the grey fairy. The ringmaster sighs and, turning to Benjie, says, “Which mother would you prefer young man?”

  Remembering the dry brown berries in the Seven Humped Hills, Benjie replies, “This one,” and indicates Mrs Sprockett.

  “Huh!” exclaims the grey fairy with an angry flap, “If that is the case I’ll soon put an end to your star turn.” And she points a quivering finger at his wings.

  Benjie feels them slowly shrinking and Mrs Sprockett says, “Oh, they’re turning brown.” The next moment, like dead leaves in autumn, they drop off Benjie’s back.

  The audience gasps and several people demand their money back. “Let’s go home. Perhaps you’ll behave yourself now,” says Mrs Sprockett. With a loud snort, the grey fairy flaps from the ring, rises vertically into the air and is never seen again.

  Benjie, feeling more comfortable without wings in his new blue suit and shoes, follows Mrs Sprockett, who is marching out of the tent.

  The brittle brown wings are displayed in Benjie’s special box, but Benjie is glad to go home. At last he is happy to be just a boy and this time he behaves - especially at bedtime.

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  Thank you for reading this book - which I hope you have enjoyed.

  If you would like to read my other work, please return to your favourite ebook retailer. For a complete list of my work with a short summary of each, click this link to my blog https://lindajtalbot.wordpress.com. There are also sample extracts from many of these works. You are welcome to subscribe or add a comment.

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  Author's Note

  Linda Talbot writes fantasy for adults and children. She now lives in Crete and as a journalist in London she specialised in reviewing art, books and theatre, contributing a chapter to a book about Conroy Maddox, the British Surrealist and writing about art for Topos, the German landscape magazine. She has published "Fantasy Book of Food", rhymes, recipes and stories for children; "Five Rides by a River", about life, past and present around the River Waveney in Suffolk; short stories for the British Fantasy Society, and stories and poetry for magazines.

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