Read Adventures of Tain Bb, Hello? And Dumb Page 2


  Chapter Two, In Which Tain Bb Studies The ‘Instruction’ And Goes In Search Of The Head Feathermuncher

  So Tain sat down at the table, switched on the lamp and smoothed a sheet of paper that was slightly rumpled with his palm. ‘Instructions,’ he read, once again amazed how incredibly bored that word could make him. The thing is, Tain Bb really disliked reading, especially studying all manner of different instructions and technical specifications. His eyes would begin to stick together with such force that Tain could fall asleep in an instant, laying, sitting or even standing. And now with great effort he made himself concentrate and read the title:

  ‘Service regulations sleeping pillow

  Model PDY 17 / 18

  Safety measures and also possible malfunctions and ways of eliminating them.’

  There followed dry technical text with sets of unfamiliar words and figures. His head became heavier and heavier. Tain nearly got up to splash himself with cold water, but finally explanatory diagrams came to his relief: pic.1, pic.2, pic.3 and pic.4. They illustrated the general working principle of a pillow of this model.

  On the first three pictures Tain saw himself, lying down on the left side, then on the right side, then on the back. The pillow was considered to be arranged correctly if: first, it was under the left cheek; second, under the right cheek; or third, under the nape. Pic.4 explained the particular situation with the pillow between the elbows, straight under the chest. This position was recommended for those who liked to read lying down on the belly, putting the book in front of them.

  Desperately yawning, Tain Bb moved on to the next chapter – ‘Safety Measures’. It was short: ‘Do not put candles and sparklers on the pillow’. ‘Ah!’ thought Tain to himself, ‘What a wonderful ‘Instruction’! What a lot of useful information I’ve found out, and how much I still have to learn!’

  All his drowsiness had gone completely when he got to the last highlighted part, where it mentioned malfunctions of the pillow and ways of eliminating them. And at the end something had been written by hand.

  Having finished reading, Tain Bb put the paper to one side and sighed: it was something to think about. He understood the Head Feather could disappear only in two ways: In the first case, the feather could do it by itself, and this was nothing to worry about. After going, it leaves a so-called ‘Happy Memory’, and if you keep this memory in clean and fresh condition the pillow will work as it did previously. Before it set off for parts unknown the Head Feather would gently tickle the left nostril of the sleeping person until he sneezed and the Head Feather flew away. It was like they were telling each other ‘Goodbye’. ‘But tonight,’ thought Tain, ‘I didn’t sneeze – that’s for sure. I’ve not got any Happy Memories left, and that’s what happened.’

  The description of the second instance was very short: ‘The absence of the Head Feather means that the Head Feathermuncher has carried it away’.

  At some point in his childhood long ago, Tain had heard something about Feathermunchers from his grandmother. These enigmatic creatures lived in the Light Forest and were considered half-good and half-bad, depending on their mood. And as for the Light Forest, it was a very special place, protected and inaccessible.

  In principle, every schoolchild knew the series of actions, the so-called Rule, by following which one could transport oneself to the Light Forest. One simply needed to:

  1) Turn on the fan.

  2) Lay a pillow by the side.

  3) Stand on it…

  …in freshly-cleaned boots.

  4) Pronounce: ‘Arta Carta,

  Morda Farta.’

  5) Once more in reverse: ‘Morda Farta,

  Arta Carta.’

  6) Spit on the left boot.

  At this moment something happened and you ended up somewhere near the Light Forest. Or … it didn’t happen, and you, smiling stupidly, were left standing on a pillow in your boots.

  The whole thing lay in the fact that one couldn’t simply get to the Light Forest through having nothing to do, let’s say simply to go for a stroll. It didn’t let people like that in. Only if you had real and serious business, and if you knew it beyond the shadow of a doubt, only then were you given the chance to end up upon the road that led to the Light Forest. Why everything happened precisely like that and not any other way nobody knew. The Light Forest and the Rule simply existed, and people accepted this as a fact, not particularly dwelling on how or why.

  Swinging on the back legs of a squeaky wooden chair, Tain Bb ran through in his head the possible variations of the further development of events. ‘Ok,’ he suddenly decided, keeping his balance in an amazing way. ‘I need to find the Head Feathermuncher and convince him to give back the Feather.’

  Leaning back into the back-rest, Tain returned the chair to its normal position and began to laugh with relief. ‘Ah, how clever I am!’ he thought, taking some pride in his ability to make simple and clear decisions even in difficult situations. There was one thing left: to get into the country surrounding the Light Forest. And this would happen, Tain had absolutely no doubt: his reason was truly serious and convincing.

  Tain jumped on the pillow, pulled on the cord of the fan and said the necessary words. ‘Well…let’s go!’ But nothing happened. Carefully opening one eye slightly, he saw the same walls and the same moon through the window. ‘Is it really not going to work for me?...Aha! The freshly-cleaned boots!’ Tain rushed to the hall and dragged back there the boots and a brush with polish. Having busied himself for about ten minutes and having polished the leather to a shine, he again switched on the fan, then once more climbed on to the pillow…and, before spitting on the left boot, he patiently pronounced:

  ‘Arta Carta Morda Farta,

  Morda Farta Arta Carta,

  Fffft!...’

  And now something happened. The fan started to make a strained buzzing noise, and the pillow…suddenly popped, exploding under Tain’s legs with a deafening crack, filling everything around with fluff. Blown by the fan, the fluff circled and spiralled like a blizzard, and totally disorientated Tain Bb, who already couldn’t tell the bottom from the top. Everything disappeared and nothing could be seen. Neither walls, nor bed, nor moon through the window, only a fluffy white mirage. The last thing Tain Bb heard was a loud click under his ear. Caught by surprise, he fell, and his vision darkened, and consciousness deserted him.