The Wonderful Roundabout

first he grabbed the crate, for his bed was merely a wooden crate, by one of its leather belts and started pulling as hard as he could. But the crate would not budge an inch. He stopped for a moment and looked at it confused. He stretched out with his paws spread and his belly on the ground, as if ready to give up. Then, all of a sudden, he jumped back on his feet. He smelled the crate, looked at it and something like a grin appeared on his face. He then proceeded to move to the other side of the crate and push it in his desired direction. He strained for a bit but eventually the box moved and he happily jumped in and almost instantly fell asleep.

  Why am I telling you this you may wonder? Well, because in watching the sloth’s efforts, our Doodle had an epiphany.

  ‘That’s iiiit! That’s iiiiit! Mister! Mister!’ He ran into the lab and woke up the old man who had fallen asleep at his desk.

  ‘What?! What?! What’s the matter, boy?!’

  ‘I got it, I got it!’

  ‘You got what, what?’

  ‘We’re not going to pull the capsule! We’re going to push it! We’re going to have ourselves an upside down flying balloon! We’re going to be sitting on top of the bubble!’

  ‘Doodle… that’s brilliant! How did I not think about that one myself! You are a genius, boy!’

  ‘You know sir… if we’re to be honest, I’m really no smarter than a sloth.’

  The scientist look puzzled and Doodle didn’t explain any further. He just walked out and happily stretched out, next to Hewey, in the sunlight.

  THE BUBBLE BOY AND HIS FLYING MACHINE

  PPart III

  Doodle and the inventor worked day and night on the flying machine, and by the end of the summer it was almost done. They only had a few more days to go and they were working restlessly to get every detail in place. The two soap reservoirs on the side of the capsule were connected to two thin hoses than ran underneath it and poured the soap inside a round plastic jar. Above it, there was a propeller, and underneath it a funnel so the entire mechanism looked a bit like an hourglass with a propeller on top. Another small hose ran into the jar, mixing in just the right quantity of water for the existing soap. The mixture then ran down into the funnel and as the propeller turned faster and faster, a bigger and bigger bubble appeared below.

  Now the problem was figuring out how to get the capsule to sit still on top of the bubble. They were already experimenting with a gyroscope and the contraption got steadier by the hour.

  However, something still troubled Doodle. He couldn’t tell exactly what it was but he had trouble falling asleep at night. He felt like he’d forgotten something that he couldn’t leave behind. There was plenty of room for him and the doctor in the capsule, they were already stocking up on supplies and the building of the flying machine was going according to plan. If the weather was good enough for a launch, they would set sail for the first time that very week-end. So what didn’t fit?

  One night, he had a particularly difficult time falling asleep so he woke up the next morning tired and surly. He went into the kitchen, fixed himself a cup of tea and sat at the table with his head resting on his hands. His eyes were closing and he was just about to fall asleep again.

  At this precise moment, Hewey entered the kitchen. He looked at his master with a puzzled expression. He climbed on one of the chairs and bent over the table to smell the tea and the lumps of sugar. He was delighted by the sweet smell of tea in the morning. Feeling a bit sorry for his master, who did not seem to enjoy the scenery as much, he decided to wake him up.

  So he slowly crept behind Doodle and started clambering on the back of his chair. Doodle must have been really tired, because at first he didn’t feel a thing. When Hewey crawled from the chair on top of his shoulders and started petting his head gently, he suddenly opened his eyes and for a moment felt like screaming at the top of his lungs. Luckily enough, he recognized in a split second that it was only Hewey sitting on his shoulders and gently patting his bushy hair.

  At that moment, Doodle almost burst to tears. For he suddenly realized what he was leaving behind: his one and only friend, Hewey. He gently grasped the sloth and set him down, then they both went to have a morning nap in Doodle’s bed.

  That day Doodle convinced the inventor that they hadn’t been thinking properly about the capsule all along. It wasn’t supposed to be built for two, but for three. His sloth was going with him. Luckily enough, the professor understood and agreed to please the boy. So they started again, rebuilding everything from scratch. Now, of course they weren’t ready to sail at the end of the summer anymore. They had to wait for autumn and winter to pass so they could leave in good weather. But they did, without a sigh or a quarrel and when the bubble rose from the ground, in the clear, crisp air of spring, there were three best friends traveling on it. And this is where our story ends.

  THE MAGICAL HOUSE OF DOORS

  PPart I

  Jean first saw the house through the train’s window, when she was on her way to visit her grandparents. It looked just like a regular house, except the walls were made of many different doors, all standing next to one another. One was blue, dressed with white time-worn curtains, another was tall, brown and looked sturdy, though the wood had chipped here and there. She decided to ride her bike back and examine the place a little closer. With the open field in front of it and chickens pecking their way all around it, the house looked as if pulled out of a story and planted there.

  She only made it back the next afternoon, and almost fell off her bike right in front of the yard. The chickens were all gathered up in the coop, which was peculiar for a warm afternoon. Jean looked around to see what might have scared them, and saw a giant, dark rain cloud drawing near.

  ‘Great… got here just in time to leave. Gosh, that thing is moving fast. I’ll never make it home on time.’ Just then, the sky lit up followed by a roar of thunder. ‘Well, I’m not going anywhere until that cloud passes... So I guess there’s only one thing I can do.’

  She slowly pushed open the gate and stepped inside the yard. There was a peaceful air around the house. On top of the chicken coop, a white cat was sleeping on its belly. Behind it, a woodpecker chipped away at an old peach tree. The peaches looked like they’d just started to turn gold. The wind seemed to have stopped.

  ‘Hello? Anybody here? Hello? I figured I wouldn’t get an answer. Now which of these doors should I knock on? The blue one looks good. Here goes!’

  ‘Yes! Who’s there?!’

  ‘Hello! My name is Jean, I was just riding my bike and I got caught in the storm. Could you please open the door?’

  ‘Poor girl! Certainly!’

  The door slowly creaked open and Jean was more than surprised to meet the kind stranger.

  ‘Hello, I am Miss Dolly. Please, come in! Have a seat, I was just making tea. Have you ever had wheat tea?’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘Well, you’ll love it. I don’t get many visitors around here.

  My door isn’t quite the most popular. Frisco the bear sees at least three time as many people as I do.’

  The old lady went about her tiny cottage, bringing cups and napkins and several jars of jam to the table. She even had whole wheat crackers. Everything might have appeared normal… if not for the fact that she was a mouse. Her fur was auburn and she walked on her hind legs and had a kerchief on her head, complete with ear holes. But what was Jean to do? She couldn’t have just asked ‘Miss, are you aware that you are a mouse?’ So she just went along with it.

  ‘So where does Frisco the Bear live, Miss Dolly?’

  ‘Oh, just in the house, like I mentioned. You can find him behind the big, black door.’

  ‘But the big black door’s one of the walls of your house.’

  ‘No, honey, it isn’t. Look around. I have real walls.’

  And indeed she did. And Jean realized she had just discovered something extraordinary.

  THE MAGICAL HOUSE OF DOORS

  PPart II

   ‘Does Fri
sco the bear have another room in this house, Miss Dolly?’

  ‘Of course not, he owns the entire house, just like I do.’

  Jean was very happy to have her suspicion confirmed.

  ‘And does anyone else own the house, Miss?’

  ‘Yes, there are as many of us as there are doors. Helmut the bald eagle lives behind the gray, run-down door. Oh, how foul his house smells. He likes scaring me to death too, keeps saying he’s going to eat me. I swear, if he even so much tries to swallow in my direction I will go ninja on his beak!’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine, Miss. This tea is just wonderful. I’ve never had wheat tea before. It’s sweet.’

  ‘Thank you dear!’

  ‘And who else, except Helmut?’

  ‘Well, there’s also Helga, the platypus. Lovely creature she is. She gave me the milk I put in your tea.’

  ‘Oh! Where else do you get milk from around here? It’s pretty far from any other farm.’

  ‘Well, from her. She just laid a few eggs and she’s got extra milk.’

  ‘Oh, dear me!’

  ‘Are you alright, dear?’

  ‘Um… Miss Dolly, I just realized, I left my bike in front of the yard. Can I please go bring it on the porch?’

  ‘Sure, dear.’

  As Miss Dolly closed the door behind her, she started coughing. Platypus milk! It took a few good minutes for her to catch her breath and, when she realized Miss Dolly hadn’t checked on her, she figured she might as well try some of the other doors.

  One of them