Barnstable and The Ning Nong of Grockle

By Brian Allen

Barnstable

Barnstable is a very conceited cat and he takes his young master on a very odd tour. They visit Levity where gravity is backwards and things fall upwards and meet very odd people including a treacle miner.

The Ning Nong of Grockle

Sam helps visitors from Planet Grockle search for their lost Grockle nut.They meet many very peculiar people including a hole and bubble maker..

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lotta Rott
• Release date: Jul 27, 2011
• ISBN: 9781301396115

Book preview

BARNSTABLE

AND

THE NING NONG

OF GROCKLE

Two funny peculiar stories

Brian Allen

Copyright © 2013 Brian Allen. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, of the publisher.

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Also by Brian Allen

Brain Food and Other Tales

Dubious Definitions (A Dictionary of Misinformation)

Rickety Rackety Rhymes

Bigot’s Way

What an Idea

CONTENTS

BARNSTABLE

Chapter 1 Barnstable leads off

Chapter 2 Levity

Chapter 3 Deesap

Chapter 4 Hedgehogs and Unicorns

Chapter 5 Small

Chapter 6 Fillbucket

Chapter 7 The Mechanical Garden

Chapter 8 Fireball

THE NING NONG Of GROCKLE

Chapter 1 Sam Goes for a swim

Chapter 2 Holes and bubbles

Chapter 3 Horace and Pumper

Chapter 4 Paint and pasta

Chapter 5 Horivertical

Chapter 6 Loaf and Bun

Chapter 7 The Earthoplane

Chapter 8 Mermaids and butter

BARNSTABLE

Chapter 1

Barnstable leads off.

So far it had not been a good day. In fact, now that Jason came to think of it, it had been absolutely dreadful. First of all it was raining, not just your ordinary everyday sort of rain that you can at least get out in, but heavy, heavy rain pouring out of the sky and bouncing up when it hit the ground in fat little watery blobs like in the T V advertisements for washing-up liquids. Then there was the wind, what wind! Great gusts of it coming from Every which way as his grandmother said.

It really was too bad. Yesterday he had spent the entire day constructing a truly magnificent hut. It was to have been a private meeting house for him and his friend from next door. He was certain it would stand up to even the very worst weather. After all it was, as he had heard his architect father say many times about the houses he designed, Purpose built. It was constructed against an angle formed between the garage and the compost bins, and had walls made from pieces of plywood he had found washed up on the beach and a roof of corrugated iron that he had rescued from the bits and pieces that the neighbours had put out for the rubbish collection. It was held together with a workmanlike mixture of nails, wire, and wooden stakes driven into the ground. All in all it was designed for long term occupation, but sadly, and only too obviously now, not to withstand the sort of wind that had attacked and flattened it this morning.

And now there was this problem with the inter-galactic star ship. Being a resourceful, even if still not very large person, Jason had decided that as he obviously could not repair the hut and the lawn had by this time disappeared under a sheet of muddy water, he would continue work in the garage on his latest construction project. This consisted of the manufacture of a technically highly advanced model of a super-powered rocket and was now entering its final stages which called for some particularly tricky construction in the form of attaching the third after-burner to the main body. He had only obtained the final piece of equipment that morning and, indeed, had only just been in time to rescue the baked bean tin, or after-burner, from going into the rubbish bin. All, however, was not well. Try as he might, every time he hit a nail in the wood split. At one such particularly frustrating moment his father had paused on his way to go to work in the car to ask, Doing a bit of carpentry Jason?

Jason had long since learned that, kind and helpful as his parents were, like all grown-ups it was almost impossible for them to understand the intricacies of his projects and as at all such times he did not go into long explanations but gave his usual reply,

Yep.

It was only a few minutes later that a voice said, I see you're having a bit of trouble with the third after-burner.

Jason looked up but could see nobody. He carried on with the hopeless nailing.

I spoke to you, said the voice again.

Jason hit his thumb with the hammer. Ooooh! he said and held it under his armpit in the vain hope that this might help the throbbing. It didn’t. While hugging his thumb he looked around the garage, but all he could see was the family cat. Barnstable was sitting on top of a box of firewood. He had his right fore-paw cupped behind his right ear, pushing it slightly forward and Jason could have sworn he looked straight at him and said, What’s the matter, gone deaf all of a sudden?

It’s ridiculous thought Jason, cats don’t talk and if they did surely it would not be in the haughty overbearing tones that he thought he had just heard. Still, it was odd. He made sure the door was shut and that he could see no one through the window and then very cautiously turned and faced Barnstable who was now lying on his back with his back paws crossed and his front paws cradling the back of his head.

Do you, or do you not, want some help with that mess of an after-burner?

Asked Barnstable, and there was no doubt it was he. Jason saw his mouth move, and there was definitely no one else there.

You spoke, said Jason, cats don’t speak

I do, replied Barnstable. At least I do today.

Why just today?

Barnstable looked upwards and gave a sigh, admittedly rather a squeaky one, but definitely a sigh. You really are pig ignorant, aren’t you? He said.

No I’m not, said Jason, adding as an after-thought, and anyway I’m not plain rude like you.

Barnstable ignored him and carried on. It’s UHF’s birthday. I suppose you don’t even know what that is, do you?

Well no, I’m afraid I don’t really, admitted Jason. He had by now decided it was probably best to humour Barnstable and behave as if talking to the cat was an everyday experience. But, he added, "I think it might have something to do with Television. Ultra high frequency or something like that."

See - just as I said, pig ignorant. What it means, as any well educated nit-wit would be able to tell you is, and here Barnstable paused as if what he was about to say was both important and deserving of the greatest respect, What it means is, Ultra High Feline, and to save you making a fool of yourself again and asking who he is, I’ll tell you. He’s the Lord High, Number one, Most Superior Cat of all cats. I won’t give you all his titles, firstly because there are so many of them and if we are ever going to get anywhere today we had better get started and secondly because you probably wouldn’t appreciate them. I can tell you though that they include such important honours as: World Mouser, Champion Purrer, and Tree-climber first class and bar. When referring to him it is not necessary for you to use all his titles. It is acceptable simply to refer to him as Cat One. By the way what you need is glue.

It all sounds, Jason was just about to say, a load of right old rubbish and then he caught Barnstable’s eye and thought better of it and said, It all sounds very interesting, but what has it got to do with you talking and more especially what's it got to do with glue?

There you go again pi-- oh well what’s the use? I'll just have to make it as simple as I can, sighed Barnstable, I can talk to you and you can understand me because it’s the UHF’s birthday. It’s only possible when it’s his birthday.

Well, if that’s the case, why hasn’t it happened before? asked Jason, who by now was thoroughly confused.

Because of the manner in which that most honourable date is calculated, explained Barnstable. It’s dreadfully complicated and there is no possibility of you ever understanding all the factors involved. He waved his right front paw airily: Stars, sun, moon, equations, long division - no, you’d never have a show. Just take it from me, it is today, and anyway the proof of the pudding is in its eating as they say, and you can talk to me and, by the way, you still haven’t got the glue.

How long does it last? asked Jason.

Oh, all day, snapped Barnstable. But do for goodness sake get that glue else we shall never get started. I suppose you do want to come? He made it sound more like a statement than a polite invitation, but by now Jason was becoming used to him and simply asked, Where are we going then?

Look, said Barnstable slowly, I’ll say it just once more and then you’re on your own, just you and that useless after-burner. Go into your father’s tool-shed and borrow his tube of Stickall super glue. I know he has some because I sat in the beastly stuff the other day while enjoying one of my little naps. Bring it back and glue the wretched thing on to the main body. Fancy even trying to nail it! And here Barnstable gave another of his special sighs.

Jason went to the shed. It really did seem best not to argue with Barnstable considering the mood he was in, though Jason had a nasty feeling that it might just be his permanent mood. He’d always seemed aloof and independent even before he started talking. Indeed, Jason wasn’t really sure that it was much of an improvement. Still, he was curious about their trip and so, having got the glue, he applied a good big blob of it to the can and when he pushed it into place - it stuck. He wasn’t quite sure whether to be pleased or not. It was great that the burner was finally in place, but it was clearly not at all good for Barnstable to be proved right, for he sat up and gave what Jason presumed was meant to be a smile of encouragement, but really looked much more like a self-satisfied smirk.

At last, said Barnstable and started walking towards the door. Come on if you’re coming. I haven’t got all day and we've wasted ages over that rotten glue.

Jason felt a little unsure. After all, where were they going? Still, Barnstable seemed quite sure of himself even if he was dreadfully rude and the rain had eased a little. So he pulled on his gumboots and a raincoat ran upstairs, raided his mother’s cake tins, and followed his companion out of the garage, along the garden path, onto the reserve and down the pathway that led to the beach.

The tide was out and Barnstable turned and headed south along the beach towards the cliffs that were one of Jason’s favourite spots. Barnstable was trotting along quite quickly now, and Jason found it difficult to keep up with him; especially when they got to the rocks which were still wet and very slippery. But this did not slow Barnstable one bit.

Oh do come on, He called. We must be back before the tide comes in again.

Jason stumbled on and the next time he looked up Barnstable had disappeared. I knew it, he said to himself. I must have imagined it all the time. Talking cats what rubbish.

Then he heard his name called again and saw Barnstable waiting in the mouth of a small cave and beckoning to him impatiently. He ran as fast as he could but obviously not fast enough for his companion’s liking, for the only greeting he got when he arrived panting by the cave entrance was -

Not very fit are you?

They entered the cave together