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| 7. Agent 'B' and the Dog with No Name |
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Ben Madigan revved up his three-wheeled motorcycle and headed up the ship's ramp with a familiar rumble. It was going to be an exciting day for the hospital gardener who fancied himself as a secret agent.
An old couple had taken pity on the Old English Sheepdog with one ear, and had let it travel free in the boot of their estate car. It was going to be a big day for him too.
*
An even bigger day had already begun at Stepminder Castle. Professor Edna Dunlambert was scrubbed up and about to perform major surgery on her new best friend - Fergus the Goose - fixing his wings and putting his feet on the right way round; an operation even the most gifted doctor in Ireland was sure to struggle with.
*
In the ship's lounge, Ben Madigan was strumming away on his guitar and singing...both badly as it happens; so badly that neither the music nor the singing seemed to make any sense; bad enough to put you to sleep. In fact, bad enough that he even put HIMSELF to sleep...or so it seemed!
They were half way across the Irish Sea when the music stopped completely. Ben was feeling unwell. He went all pale and sweaty, and lay down on one of the benches. On the vehicle deck the one-eared dog started to whimper.
Most of the passengers in the lounge were grateful for the peace and quiet, but one little girl realised something wasn't quite right.
She ran to the nearest crew member and asked if there was a first-aider on the boat.
'There's a gentleman on board who doesn't look very well,' Claire reported. 'It may be nothing serious, but I learned in school you should NEVER ASSUME ANYTHING!'
Two minutes later a lady in a bright yellow jacket arrived. It said 'FIRST AID' on her back; her name badge said 'Emma'.
Emma knelt down in front of Ben. She spoke to him quietly.
'Hello sir. Can you hear me?'
Ben's eyes were open but he didn't say anything. He just stared past her.
'Hello sir,' she tried again, much louder this time. 'Can you hear me?'
Ben's eyes blinked, very slowly. He didn't speak, and he couldn't lift his head up.
With help from a few stewards, Emma got Ben onto the floor. They turned him on his side and put some pillows behind him - it could be dangerous if he rolled onto his back.
Emma rolled up his sleeve to get a look at his wrist, and there it was: a MEDICALERT bracelet with Ben's name, age, and doctor's name printed on.
More importantly, it told Emma that he was diabetic... and even what medication he took for that.
Ben's problem was that he'd taken his insulin injection as normal, earlier in the morning. But it had been a long hot day, most of which he'd spent rushing about in motorcycle leather clothing.
He hadn't had time to eat properly, and had really been rather overdoing things.
With Emma supervising, Ben was soon sipping juice through a straw. And just minutes afterwards, he was able to sit up and munch a chocolate bar. Quickly followed by a nice cup of tea to wash down some toast and strawberry jam.
Emma stayed with him for the rest of the journey. She explained to Claire that it was only safe to give Ben some food and drink while he was still conscious. It would have been very dangerous to try to feed him if he'd NOT been conscious.
When they reached Ireland, two paramedics came on board to give Ben a full check-up. By now he'd fully recovered and didn't need to go to hospital. But everyone agreed: if it hadn't been for little Claire, things would have been very different indeed.
*
Not so very far away, the operation was over. Fergus the Goose lay on the makeshift operating table...fast asleep, as he would remain for the rest of the day probably.
*
At the harbour, as Ben's trike rumbled past, the one-eared dog leapt from the old couples car and pounced up onto the seat behind Ben. The trike screeched to a halt.
'He's all yours now!' the old man shouted. 'Make sure you take good care of him!'
And off the old couple disappeared, to somewhere in Ireland.
Ben stepped off the trike. He stood with his hands on his hips, scarcely able to believe his eyes.
He was sure he'd fully recovered from his diabetic mishap. But he hadn't a clue how he'd suddenly become the proud owner of a one-eared dog with no name.
Still, at least he did have a spare set of goggles and leather helmet.
'OK my friend,' said Ben, 'looks like were stuck with each other for now.'
The dog panted with excitement.
'So let's go find my little paramedic goose, once and for all.'
Ben pressed the tracker button on his satellite navigation device. The goose symbol flashed, exactly 33.48 kilometres south-east.
*
33 kilometres down the road Ben slammed on the brakes.
He was still a few metres short of a grass bank that led to the sea, right in front of a huge sign:
Welcome to STEPMINDER CASTLE.
Ben pressed the big white button and waited for an answer.
'Yes?' my niece enquired in a tired, squeaky voice, from the shadow of the enormous castle gate. 'Can I help you?'
'I've come for my goose,' Ben shouted.
Edna didn't reply
'I said I've come for my goose.'
Still no answer.
'The one in the green paramedic uniform; the one with safety pins in his wings, and his glasses held together with sticky tape; and who knows what state his legs are in.'
'I'm sorry,' said the professor, 'but I'm afraid you won't find any such goose in here.'
It was true - up to a point - for Fergus had proper wings now, and no more glued-on neck, or wrong-way-round legs. And the green paramedic uniform was in the washing machine.
Fergus was still fast asleep in his operation gown.
'Then why, exactly, is my micro-chip device in your castle?' asked Ben.
'I haven't the foggiest notion what you're talking about. And who, exactly, are you?'
'My name is Agent 'B'. And if you'll let me and my dog in, I bet I can find the micro-chip within a couple of minutes.'
The professor was devastated. She realised she was probably about to lose her new best friend - Fergus the Goose.
But it was the end of a very long, very exciting day all round. There were no more boats back to Scotland this late.
Besides, Ben Madigan needed his sugar levels checked again. He
needed his insulin injection and a good meal. And just like Fergus, he too needed a good night's sleep.
My niece decided Ben and his one-eared dog friend could stay the night. They'd both break the news to Fergus in the morning.
Perhaps just seeing Ben would jog the little goose's memory and he'd be happy to go back to Moss Abbey.
But what if he wasn't?
Watch out for the next BLOG...coming soon.
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