Undergardeners (3 page)

“But you're talking, aren't you?”

“Yes I am, yes I am, yes I…am,” trilled the lantern.

All the other lanterns took up the call. “Yes she is, yes she is, yes she…is.” Their quivering voices climbed to a crescendo.

“It's not the lanterns that are talking, you see,” the first lantern explained. “It's us,
in
the lanterns. We're fireflies. The prettiest and brightest things in the whole world.”

The other fireflies loudly agreed. “Yes we are, yes we are, yes we…are.”

“What a racket,” moaned Glump. “Come on, you lot, your food is getting cold.”

Mouse joined the others where they sat on the grass around the cloth. Everyone watched as he picked up the tin cup Glump had indicated he should use. “What a tiny little cup,” he said, handling it delicately.

“You think that's tiny, do you?” said Glump gleefully. “What do you make of this, then?” He took his own cup from behind his back. It was so small that Mouse would have needed a pair of tweezers to hold the handle. “I gave you the bucket,” said the little man, and everyone exploded into laughter.

“Sorry if I was a little snappy with you earlier,” said the firefly, “but the thing is, I have a short fuse.” The firefly laughed uproariously at its own joke, sounding to Mouse like a bicycle with a squeaky back wheel.

Another of the fireflies added, “And she sometimes gets a little light-headed.” Off they all went, a half-dozen squeaky back wheels. “Wheee-heee-heee-heee-heee!”

“That's enough out of you lot,” said Glump. “Let's eat.”

As they sat down, Mouse sipped at the concoction in the bucket that Glump had given him. It was quite pleasant—like very weak, very sweet tea. When they had finished eating, Alkus said, “That's it, we've done all we came for, it's time to go. Nice to meet you, Mouse Mountain. Sole.” She held up her foot. Mouse touched it with his toe, but not happily; if he let them go, his dream would surely be over and he was enjoying it immensely. The doors of the lanterns opened and the fireflies flew out, dotting the garden with moving lights.

“Good night,” everyone called to the scattering lights. “Till next time. Thanks.”

“Not at all,” bubbled the fireflies. “We were de-LIGHTED.” And off they squeaked into the night in a ragged line, looking like a set of Christmas-tree lights that someone had flung into the air. “Wheee-heee-heee-heee-heee-heee!”

“Never fails,” chuckled Alkus.

“Always the same…

…old jokes,” said Snick and Snock, pulling off their white gloves and placing them in the basket. The others picked up their tool bags and headed for the upended stone.

“Alkus,” Mouse blurted out. “Do you think it would be possible…? Could I…? I would love to see where you live. Could I come with you?” he finished in an excited rush.

Alkus looked at him for a moment. “I'm sorry, Mouse,” she said. “Uptoppers don't know we're here and we want to keep it that way.”

“Uptoppers?” questioned Mouse. “Is that what you call us?”

Alkus nodded. “That's our name for you who live up here in the harsh outdoors.” Mouse didn't think the outdoors a bit harsh, except maybe in the dead of winter. He imagined living underground was harsher. “Your seeing us was unfortunate,” continued Alkus. “I mean, it was fortunate for Qwolsh. But things would be better all round if you just forgot you'd ever met us.”

“But I won't tell anyone,” said Mouse pleadingly. “Please! I mean, I
have
met you—I already know you're here. So what harm would it do to see where you live?”

Snick and Snock each tugged one of Alkus's shoe buckles, and as she bent down they whispered to her, one into each ear. Stereo, thought Mouse, having a vision of Snick-and-Snock headphones. Alkus nodded, then called the others into a huddle. Scraps of their conversation drifted toward Mouse.

“What if…I don't know whether…We've never had…Suppose he…”

From time to time one or another of them looked in his direction. At one point Digger gazed at him through three different pairs of spectacles in rapid succession. Finally Alkus turned round and said, “We've never taken an Uptopper below before, but you did come to Qwolsh's rescue, so you are welcome to visit.” She sized him up with expert eyes. “If we stick to the main tunnels you should be able to fit without too much crouching.” Then she said sternly, “But you must never tell another Uptopper about us. Promise?”

“Promise,” vowed Mouse. “I'll never tell another Uptopper about any of the Undergardeners.”

“Is that what you want to call us?” asked Alkus.

“Well, you do live under my garden,” said Mouse.

Alkus laughed. “We live under many gardens. It's not what we call ourselves, but Undergardener has a nice ring to it.”

“Well, come on then, let's get down there before the night is gone,” said Glump impatiently, heading for the rock that had caused Mouse and his father so much grief. Mouse looked at the large pile of earth they had shifted in their futile attempt to move the rock. No wonder I'm stiff, he thought. Look at all that dirt.

One by one the Undergardeners stepped in. Mouse hesitated. The hole looked dark and uninviting. “Move along. We can't wait all night,” Glump wheezed as he bumped into him from behind. Mouse looked around the familiar garden and then, taking a deep breath, he stepped gingerly into the hole. The Undergardeners hummed and the stone above Mouse's head began to lower itself into place, closing off the sky. The moon shrank to a half, to a quarter, to a sliver—then it was gone. With a firm
clunk
, the stone settled, plunging them all into total darkness.

Chapter 4

The steps were cold on Mouse's bare feet, and the air smelt musty. If this is a dream, he thought, it's a very realistic one. On the other hand, if it's not a dream, what am I doing here? Mind you, if it's not a dream, it's the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me. Wait till I tell… What am I saying? I promised not to tell anyone. His mood swung between cowardice and courage, dread and delight, as his thoughts chased each other frantically. If it's a dream I'm going to enjoy it. If it's not a dream…He took a deep decisive breath. I'm going to enjoy it even more. He swung his arm in a defiant gesture and struck something fleshy.

“Ouch!” The voice sounded like Qwolsh's. “Careful, or you'll put someone's eye out.”

“Sorry,” Mouse apologized, stepped back and heard the deer mice scurry out of the way.

“And watch…

…where you're putting…

…your feet.”

“Stand still,” ordered Alkus, “till the lights come on.”

The Undergardeners hummed and the darkness lessened slightly. Mouse began to make out their silhouettes. The place grew brighter and brighter. He could now make out the underside of the stone entrance and the stone steps that headed down into darkness.

“You did that with the humming?” asked an amazed Mouse.

“Did what?” said Alkus.

“The lights, the lights,” answered Mouse.

“You sound like…

…the fireflies,” chortled Snick and Snock. “De-lights!…

…De-lights!” They imitated the fluttery, high-pitched voices.

“If we was to leave it to the youngsters of today, we wouldn't even have lights,” muttered Glump. “Don't want to learn nothing.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of Snick and Snock as he went away down the steps, muttering to himself. “Not like in my day. We was happy to do whatever had to be done. No time off for floods and soggy muck. If it needed doing, it needed doing now. Real stick-in-the-muds we were and proud of it. Lost some of my best boots and tools in that same mud, but did that stop us? Never! On we squelched, bootless and toolless, man and ruddy, soggy boy till we dropped. We could habe dilor fast ald…” The words became unintelligible as Glump went farther down the steps until the darkness swallowed him.

“Glump does go on a bit sometimes,” said Alkus. “Anyway, you wanted to know about the lights. We control them by humming at the required pitch.”

Mouse was intrigued. “Could I try?” he asked.

“I don't think so, Mouse,” Alkus said firmly. “The machinery here is very sensitive and its control is very precise. So just leave it to us, all right?”

“Pitch right, world bright—off by a fraction, end up in traction,” said Qwolsh.

“Traction?” echoed Mouse.

Alkus explained, “It's just a saying we have. For safety's sake, you have to be very accurate. Many things down here are controlled by sound frequencies—the stone at the top of the steps, for example. Each is tuned to its own specific note, so…”

“Switch the pitch and you pitch a glitch,” said Qwolsh.

They started down the steep flight of steps. There wasn't quite enough height for Mouse to stand up; he had to go down backward with his hands on the steps above for balance. He lost count of how many steps they had come down, but they were certainly well below ground level when they reached the bottom. More humming brought the lights up on a curved-walled, earthen tunnel stretching off into the distance. The tunnel was higher than Mouse expected, given the size of his companions; he had no trouble standing upright.

As they started along it, Alkus explained that many different-sized creatures traveled along the tunnels. “These are the main ones,” she said. “There are others higher up that would be much too small for you. There are even bigger ones lower down.”

The tunnel was very nearly round, and, standing in the center, Mouse could almost touch the walls on either side. The walls themselves were smooth, solidly packed earth.

Although he was paying great attention to his new surroundings, the operation of the lights was still in the back of his mind. It can't be that difficult, he thought. I bet I could do it. He let the others get ahead. “Humnnnnn.” He closed his eyes and started to hum. He opened one eye, but nothing seemed to be happening to the lights.

“Who's doing that?” Alkus wanted to know.

Mouse didn't answer. Briefly there was silence, but then came an angry roar from close by, followed by other roars farther away. Openings appeared all along the tunnel walls as irate Undergardeners opened shutters and doors and popped their heads out, voices raised in anger.

“What is going on?”

“Who did that?”

“My dinner is ruined.”

Every opening framed an indignant face as creatures of all sorts glared out into the passageway, many waving spoons adrip with whatever they had been stirring. There were little people, weasels and badgers and rabbits, skunks and mink, moles and voles and gophers and mice and many others Mouse couldn't name, all looking very angry indeed.

“Uh-oh!” Qwolsh clapped both hands to his cheeks with a resounding smack that echoed off the walls. “You silly wantwit, you've shut down all their ovens, haven't you? Right in the middle of mainmeal.” Mouse gulped and attempted to rectify his mistake by humming with all his might. Frantically, the others tried to stop him, Digger spluttering like a balloon from which the air was rapidly escaping.

“By my feet and inches,” breathed Chuck.

“Now you've…

…gone and…

…done it!” squeaked Snick and Snock.

A distant wind approached, gathering force as it came. All along the tunnel walls, shutters and doors clattered as they opened and closed with the force of it. The dust began to swirl at their feet. Mouse stammered, “Wh…wh…what's going on? What have I done now?” He turned to Alkus in consternation, only to see a huge grin on her face.

“Never mind, lad,” she laughed. “We can soon fix it.”

“You've turned on the extractor fans, that's what you've done,” shouted Qwolsh above the clamor.

“Full blast too,” roared Alkus through her grin. With one hand she grabbed hold of Snick and with the other she caught Snock before the force of the gale blew the tiny deer mice down the tunnel. Supported by the wind, they now floated at the ends of Alkus's outstretched arms. Snock (or was it Snick?) had grabbed the picnic basket and Snick (or Snock) was clinging to the tablecloth, which quivered and snapped like a flag in a gale. The white gloves they had placed in the basket suddenly seemed to come alive. Stretching to attention, they leaped out and disappeared down the tunnel, tumbling under and over, flapping and slapping at each other in a mad glove dance. Above the screech of the wind, Mouse became aware of a humming sound. It was his companions humming for all they were worth. Gradually the noise diminished and the wind died away as they succeeded in bringing the hurricane under control.

“Wheeee!” squealed Snick and Snock as they floated back to the ground.

“That was…

…wonder…

…ful.”

Mouse was horrified at what he had done. His mouth hung wide open and he was being very careful that no sound whatsoever came from it. Not so the mice, who were dancing around him, holding an end apiece of the tablecloth and chanting, “Do it…