Panda Panic (9 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

B
y the time Ping got back to the village it was getting late.

“Shall we find somewhere to sleep?” he asked.

“Ooh, yes. Let's sleep in the palace,” squealed Little Bear. “Can we, Ping, please? I've always wanted to sleep in a fancy place!”

“I don't see why not,” said Ping, looking around for a house that might pass for a palace. “Over there,” he said, pointing to the largest house in the village, which was the only one to boast a veranda as well as a front door.

Little Bear was all for just barging straight in, but Ping had been taught to knock before he entered somebody else's house. He held Little Bear back by the scruff of his neck while he waited for someone to open the door. When nobody came, he and Little Bear walked around to the back of the house.

“Why?” asked Little Bear impatiently.

“Because you don't go bursting into a palace without being announced,” Ping said. “For all we know the Emperor may be outside in the yard playing croquet.”

He wasn't. The backyard was deserted except for a clothesline filled with clothes, a garden rake standing upright in a vegetable patch, and a rocking chair sitting on a small patio made from concrete slabs.

“You know what these are, don't you?” exclaimed Little Bear, rushing forward and jumping up to reach the flapping material. “The Emperor's clothes!” He caught hold of a T-shirt and pulled it down on top of his head. Standing up, he tugged his legs through the arm holes, tied the bottom around his stomach and then, to lend himself an air of importance, borrowed a pair of stripy socks off the line and popped them onto his ears.

“That looks fun!” cried Ping, joining in the game. Now that there was nobody around, Ping's bravery knew no bounds. He grabbed a flowery dress from the clothesline and threw it around his shoulders with a flourish. “This is the Emperor's cape,” he declared. “And this—” he reached up for a pair of white underpants and tugged them down over his head “—is the Emperor's crown!” Then he pulled the rake from the soil and sat down in the rocking chair. “Behold!” he said. “The Emperor is sitting on his throne holding his ceremonial trident.”

“Greetings, Your Emperorness,” said Little Bear, dropping to his knees. “Shall I kiss your feet?”

“That would be nice,” said the Emperor. “And make sure you give them a good lick while you're down there, because I haven't washed them for a week.”

“Ugh!” spat Little Bear, leaping up and pretending to be sick.

“Who dares to disobey the Emperor?” roared Ping.

“Me,” said Little Bear. “Please don't chop off my head.”

“I very well might!” Ping roared. “It depends who you are.”

“I'm your bodyguard,” said Little Bear, running over to the vegetable patch and pulling up a carrot. “And today I shall be protecting you with this orange sword.”

“It looks delicious,” said the Emperor. “But tell me, bodyguard, who exactly are you protecting me from?”

“Bandits!” said Little Bear. “If they so much as look at you in an evil way I shall poke them with this until they run away or get carrot poisoning, whichever is the soonest.”

“Well, I'm glad you're here,” said the Emperor, “because I'm just about to go to sleep and you and your carrot can protect me while I'm down for the count.”

“Consider it done!” shouted Little Bear, jumping to attention and poking himself in the eye with the carrot.

Snapping out of character, Ping leaped up off the rocking chair.

“Are you alright?” he asked with genuine concern.

“Just a carrot in the eye,” said Little Bear bravely. “Nothing us bodyguards aren't trained to cope with. Now, about that sleep.”

Ping resumed his position on the Emperor's throne and closed his eyes so that the game could continue.

“Only wake me if there's an emergency,” he said in the voice of the Emperor.

“Wake up!” shouted Little Bear.

“What is it?” cried Ping.

“An emergency!” yelled Little Bear. “We're under attack from bandits. Leave it to me, Your Sleepiness.” And with that, Little Bear flung himself onto the ground and rolled around with an imaginary bandit, stabbing at thin air with his carrot. After several forward rolls, a couple of back flips, and a great deal of grunting, Little Bear lay exhausted in front of Ping's throne. The carrot was hanging limply from his paw, snapped in half.

“Thank you,” said the Emperor. “My body has never been so well guarded. And now I shall reward your bravery by making you a knight. Kneel before me.” Little Bear did as he was told, while Ping rose from his throne and laid the rake across Little Bear's shoulder.

“Arise, Sir Little Bear,” Ping declared. “You have saved the Emperor's life, and for such loyal service I gift you all of the land that you see before you.”

“The whole yard?” gasped Sir Little Bear.

“Including the vegetable patch,” said Ping the Emperor. “Grow your vegetables wisely, Sir Little Bear, and may your leeks never wilt!”

By now Little Bear was giggling so much that tears were running down his cheek.

“You make a very good Emperor,” he snorted.

“And you make a very good bodyguard,” Ping laughed back. “And now all that remains for you to do is to bow to your Emperor and then you can run along.”

“But I don't know how to bow,” said Little Bear. “You haven't taught me how to do that yet.”

“It's simple,” said Ping. “Watch me.” He waved his arms and legs, turned upside down so that the pants dropped off his head, and wiggled his bottom in the air. Little Bear copied Ping exactly and fell flat on his face.

They decided to go inside so that Little Bear could lay down and see for himself how an Emperor lived. Ping had enjoyed playing in the yard so much that he was in a careless mood and forgot to knock on the back door. He gave it a push and it swung open with a creak.

There was nobody there.

The room had a large bed pushed against one wall, a table in the middle surrounded by four wooden chairs, and a square box on legs in the corner facing an old sofa.

“This is what Goldilocks must have felt like when she walked into the bears' empty house,” giggled Ping. “She could try out everything and nobody could stop her.” He looked at Little Bear, who appeared to be having exactly the same thought as he was, and their faces exploded into mischievous grins. First they tried the bed, bouncing as high as they could on the mattress to see who could touch the ceiling first. Next they tried the saucepans in the kitchen, pushing them down on their heads until they looked like knights' helmets. Then, using cutting boards as shields and chairs as horses, they did a bit of jousting. Finally, they tried the shower, and took turns pretending to be mermaids washing their hair in a tropical storm. They dried themselves on the bath mat and went back into the sitting room so that Little Bear could take another look at the wooden box in the corner.

“What is it?” he asked inquisitively.

Ping prodded the glass window on the front of the square box.

“My friend Hui once told me that humans are fond of keeping fish behind glass windows,” he said.

Little Bear peered through the glass until his eyes were sore, but did not see any fish.

Meanwhile Ping, puffed-out from all the fun, slumped onto the sofa and accidentally sat down on a small, hard object covered in buttons. As he did so, the square box lit up and loud music blasted out from either side. Standing so close, Little Bear was taken by surprise. He jumped backward and scrambled behind the sofa to hide from the noise.

“What is it?” he cried.

“Some sort of magic box,” gasped Ping as the black screen disappeared and was replaced by a picture of a long-haired rock band playing music on a stage.

“They're very small men, aren't they?” said Little Bear, squinting at the screen.

“I expect they have to live inside the square box to stop other people from treading on them,” said Ping.

“You could squash all of them with one paw,” observed Little Bear. “Imagine how small I'd be if I lived in there!”

“No bigger than a teardrop,” laughed Ping.

“Or an ant's kneecap!” shouted Little Bear.

“Or a hair in the nose of a toad!”

Jumping off the sofa to high-five Little Bear's paw, Ping suddenly noticed that something strange was happening to his hips.

“What are you doing?” Little Bear asked nervously.

“I don't know,” replied Ping. “It's like something's taken over my legs. They're wobbling and shaking all on their own.”

“And your arms are whirling like dragonflies' wings!”

“So are yours!” cried Ping.

“I know,” said a shocked Little Bear. “What's going on?”

“It's the music coming from the square box,” shouted Ping. “I think it's got into our bodies and is making them move.”

“Are we possessed by evil spirits?” wailed Little Bear.

“I don't think so,” yelled Ping, flinging his arms above his head and kicking up his heels. “I think what's happening to us is what is known as… DANCING!” And he shimmied his waist until his stomach started to ripple. Casting their fear aside, the two bears gave in to the music and jiggled and gyrated across the floor as if they were hopping around on hot coals. It was only when Ping injected some fast turns and a full spin that they started to lose their balance. They crashed into each other and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

As they did, the door to the Emperor's palace crashed open and some of the men who had run away earlier to get reinforcements burst into the room. Ping and Little Bear looked up, their eyes wide with horror.

“Bandits!” shouted Ping. “Real bandits!”

Little Bear shot Ping a reckless look. Then leaping from the floor like a bear possessed, he screamed the scream of a wild warrior charging into battle, and head-butted the first man in the stomach. The blow lifted him off his feet and knocked him backward into the men behind him, who went down like a line of dominoes.

“Come on, Ping!” roared Little Bear, his voice pumped up with nervous energy. Eager to prove that he had what it took to be a bodyguard, Little Bear was up for a fight, but Ping grabbed hold of one of his arms and dragged him away.

“Quick!” he urged. “Out the back.”

“Aren't you going to fight them?” said Little Bear, surprised. “There're only five of them. You've fought many more than that.”

“Later!” shouted Ping. “First things first. RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!”

And with ear-socks flapping, pants unraveling, and flowery dresses knocking over precious vases, they ran for the door. They ran as fast as their furry legs could carry them. They ran for their lives!