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| 20. PANIC at the PAIR TREE! Part 2. |
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The trouble with helicopters, is that when they take off from golf courses, the huge down-draft tends to send golf balls into all sorts of weird places.
And the trouble with golfers, is that they hate losing their golf balls, and will go to extraordinary lengths to find them again; much to the amusement of Maud Pinkerton, in this case, as she scraped the burnt cake into the bin.
What wasn't quite so amusing, though, was the sight of a paramedic goose lying at the foot of the pair tree, paralysed by fear. And not a single item of footwear to hide him. It seemed the down-draft had scattered more than just the golf balls. And the golfers' search was taking them ever closer to the pair tree.
'Oh my word!' exclaimed Maud. 'It's only a matter of time before they find him!'
She rushed outside. Then she realised she needed her phone, to call the castle. So she rushed back inside. But from the window she spotted one of the golfers leaning on the fence right beside Fergus. So she rushed back outside.
'Look!' she screamed. 'A golf ball!' She pointed back up to the right of the fairway. The golfer looked to where he thought she was pointing.
'What?' he yelled. He seemed a little confused. 'Where? Why?' And as he did so, Fergus gave a little startled jump. The golfer didn't spot it, but Maud did.
'Over there among those daisies.'
'Wow!' said the golfer. 'Some eyesight!' And off he went on a wild goose chase.
What Maud didn't spot, was that he had no idea what she was on about. Nor that he was now staggering.
Maud tried to help Fergus up, but it was no good: he was far too groggy from the smack on the head by the golf ball. She was about to dial the number for Stepminder Castle again, when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the golfer falling face-down right into the middle of the daisy patch. She quickly rolled Fergus onto his side, into the recovery position, and headed for the daisies.
But something stopped her in her tracks: the other golfers heading towards the pair tree. She sprinted back and cut one end of her washing line. And as the nice clean clothes fell on top of the groaning goose, she headed for the unconscious golfer.
She spoke to him, but he didn't reply. She spoke louder, but still he didn't reply. She rolled up his sleeve, and there, just like on Ben, was a MedicAlert bracelet, telling her that Duncan the golfer was diabetic. But what should she do now?
***
At Stepminder, Uncle Sid's nose was having no success. He'd sniffed in every corner of the castle; inside and out. But no sign of Fergus. It hadn't dawned on any of the team that the naughty goose may have been on board the helicopter when it left there half an hour ago.
The phone rang.
'Come quickly Edna! The helicopter's gone, and Fergus is unconscious...well, not really...but he soon will be, if you don't hurry. Oh, and one of those Scottish Firefighter guys is diabetic. He's having a hypo...I think!'
'Scottish firefighters???' screamed Professor Dunlambert. 'In the same place as Fergus???'
And before she had time to tell Maud off for calling her EDNA, the car keys were winging their way towards Ben: towards the back of Ben's head in fact.
'Fore!!!' shouted the professor, as Ben spun round; and now the keys were winging their way towards his face. Until, that is, a flying Uncle Sid leapt into the air, and flew sideways past Ben's face, catching them in his wide-open mouth.
Now THAT...was a close call.
The Beetle roared out through the castle gate moments later. The professor was still on the phone to Maud. 'Does the golfer have any glucose gel in his pocket or his golf bag?' she asked.
'Yes,' Maud replied, 'but can I put that in his mouth when he isn't conscious?'
'No, you're right. Well done Maud. How about an injection for when his sugars get too low?'
'Yip, I've found that too.'
'OK, make sure he's in the recovery position, then put the injection in his arm. We'll be there in just a minute!'
***
The professor was right, the injection seemed to do the trick. Duncan came around quickly. He still looked awful, but at least he was awake now; and sitting up talking. And he knew who he was, and where he was, and what day it was. But he still needed some food and a sweet drink in him to boost his sugar levels. And at least Maud could leave him in the care of his golf buddies for a few minutes to go back and check on Fergus.
She leapt back over the fence. The pile of clothes that had been sparklingly clean just minutes ago, was now a mess of soil and freshly-cut grass. And it was moving.
From underneath, a small white feathered quiff appeared - followed by an orange beak.
'Lie still Fergus!' Maud insisted. 'They haven't spotted you...YET. But if you keep on faffing about...'
The sound of a horn hooting frantically in the distance stopped her in her tracks. The flashing green light coming up the hill told her that the emergency was over. Almost.
The Beetle slammed to a stop by the pair tree.
'OK Ben, you're diabetic too, said my niece. You go check on the golfer guy. He'll understand your Scottish accent better than he'd understand me anyway. I'll look after the wee goose guy. Now, Uncle Sid...' She looked around for the bundle of grey and white fur. 'Uncle Sid?' She could scarcely believe her eyes.
The big bundle of grey and white fur was firing golf balls all over the thirteenth fairway, to confuse the golfers who were still looking for theirs. Golf balls he'd grabbed before the team left the castle.
It was a stroke of pure genius, but it worked. It distracted the Scottish Firefighters long enough for the professor to check Fergus' only injury was a mild case of concussion, and gave her and Maud enough space to help him to his feet and bundle him in to the back seat of the Beetle. They would sneak him into Maud's house later.
Across the fairway, Ben waited for a signal. And with the goose safely out of sight, a thumbs-up from Maud meant it was safe to bring Duncan over to the farmhouse for something to eat. There'd be no more golf for HIM today. But at least it looked like he wouldn't need to go to hospital.
And as Professor Dunlambert kept an eye on Duncan over lunch, Ben Madigan ran his eye over Maud Pinkerton's old fruit and veg van in the workshop. And as Uncle Sid ran terrified through the farm's outbuildings, a ghostly white figure, followed (a goose-shaped figure actually, under a white sheet from the washing line).
And all the while, a bunch of Scottish Firefighter golfers scratched their heads on the thirteenth fairway, and wondered:
HOW COME WE'VE GOT TEN TIMES AS MANY GOLF BALLS AS WHEN WE STARTED?
Watch out for the next BLOG...coming soon!
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