The Art Teacher Who Was PANDORA

Part One. Eleven Hundred Questions

The first time we saw Mrs Pandy was on a Monday, and she was ASKING QUESTIONS.

She asked Mr Harris why the gate was green. She asked Mrs Ibbs how many peas were in the pot. She asked the school hamster, very politely, what it was thinking about. Then she asked Mr Thorley what was inside his toolbox, and he said, "Spanners," and she said, "All of them?"

She was small and bouncy, with curly hair, paint on both elbows and a necklace with a tiny glass jar on it. Her badge said MRS PANDY, ART (AND WONDERING). She was Mr Epp's wife, and she had been away on a very long painting trip.

"Welcome home," said Mr Epp. "Did you have a nice time?"

"I had eleven hundred questions," said Mrs Pandy, "and I've only answered nine hundred."

"What are the other two hundred?" asked Ollie Grant.

Mrs Pandy's eyes lit up like two torches. "Ooh," she said. "What are you hoping for at lunch?"

"Pudding," said Ollie. "Any pudding. Even the one with the skin."

"Lovely," said Mrs Pandy, and she wrote PUDDING in the air with her finger, as if it were the best answer she had ever been given.

Part Two. The Jar in the Cupboard

You might remember the end of the bonfire story. Mr Hermes came up the road, walking backwards, with a big wooden box covered in locks. The sign on the lid said FOR MR EPP. FROM PANDORA. DO NOT OPEN. And Mr Epp said, "I wonder what's inside," and the twins shouted at him.

Well, Mr Epp had put the box in the cupboard in the art room, under a blanket, behind the paint pots. It was the safest place he could think of. It was also the nearest place to his wife's desk, but he hadn't thought about that. (Mr Epp always thinks about things a bit afterwards.)

Mrs Pandy kept looking at that cupboard.

On Tuesday she looked at it during Painting. On Wednesday she looked at it during Clay. She looked so hard that Ollie said her eyes were going to burn a hole in it.

Willow, the school's Bengal Reading Cat, was asleep on the art room windowsill all this time. She opened one eye at the cupboard and looked at it for exactly one second. Then she closed the eye again, and went back to sleep with her back to it. Willow has always been better at not looking than anybody we know.

Alex and Felix Bailey are twins, so they have a system. Alex notices things and Felix asks about them. Then they swap, and it works every time.

Alex noticed that Mrs Pandy kept touching her little jar necklace whenever she looked at the cupboard. Felix asked, "Mrs Pandy, what's in the box?"

Mrs Pandy said, in a small voice, "I don't know. The note on it said never to look. Mr Epp read it out, and he promised, and I promised."

Alex noticed that every time she said "never", she wriggled, like a person who needs the toilet.

Then Felix noticed something, too. The blanket on the cupboard was moving. Only very slightly, up and down, like something asleep. And a tiny sound was coming out of it, a low, muffled, grumbly tune.

Alex and Felix said, "We need Maya."

Part Three. Behind the Compost Bin

Maya Singh was behind the compost bin, with her clipboard. Kenji Mori and Ollie sat on their upside-down buckets, and Dot from Reception sat on the lid.

Dot was wearing a daisy tucked behind her ear. She had picked it that morning because it was the only one left on the field, and she'd said it looked lonely.

Maya said, "I've been expecting this. Mrs Pandy is PANDORA."

Kenji said, "Is that a type of pasta?"

Maya said, "NO, Kenji."

She explained that a long time ago in Greece, after Prometheus gave people fire, the gods decided to make a special person. Mr Heston, who is Hephaestus, shaped her out of clay, like a sculptor. Then every god gave her a gift. Athena gave her clever fingers. Hermes gave her a very curious mind. Aphrodite gave her kindness. Her name means "all gifts".

Dot said, "That's a lovely name."

Maya said, "It is. And then she got a jar."

Felix said, "A jar?"

Maya said, "People call it a box now, because of a very old mix-up in translation, but it was a jar, a big one with a lid. It was a present, and it came with one rule. Don't open it."

Ollie said, "That's the worst rule in the world."

Maya said, "I know. The jar was full of things the gods had put away because nobody wanted them. Worries and grumps and squabbles and sad days, aches and empty tummies and fibs. If she opened it, they would fly out all over the world."

Alex said, "So why give it to her?"

Maya said, "That's the bit nobody agrees on."

Kenji said, "What happened?"

Maya said, "She waited and waited. She could hear it humming. In the end, she lifted the lid, just a tiny bit, to peek."

She stopped. We all leaned in.

"And everything flew out."

Dot put up her hand. "All of it?"

Maya said, "Nearly all. There is one more bit to the story. But I can't remember it, and I want to check my book first."

Part Four. The List

Alex held the pencil. Felix held the notebook, because they always share jobs.

1. THE JAR NECKLACE. She's never without it, and it looks just like the picture in Maya's book.

2. THE QUESTIONS. Maya counted forty-one before morning break.

3. THE CLEVER FINGERS. Everything she paints looks real. Her apple looked so real that Mr Harris tried to eat it.

4. THE HUMMING. Felix put his ear to the cupboard door. It was humming, low and grumbly, like a fridge that was cross with somebody.

5. THE NOTE. In Mr Epp's pocket was the message that came with the box. It said, in curly writing: Keep it shut until I'm home. Love, P. P.S. Epimetheus, I mean it.

Maya read it twice. She said, "That's definitely her writing. It's very old paper."

Elfine and Marion, who are our cousins and in the class above, came past on their way to Reading Buddies. Elfine pushed her glasses up her nose and said, "Fun fact. Curious people ask more questions than careful people. But careful people usually find things out in the end, too. It just takes longer."

"Do you know which is better?" asked Kenji.

"Both," said Elfine. "Together."

Marion gave us a thumbs up, and they went off.

Dot put up her hand again. "Is she bad?"

Maya said, "No, Dot. Curiosity isn't bad. It's how everybody learns anything. It just needs a bit of asking first."

Felix said, "And a bit of waiting."

Alex wrote that last bit at the bottom of the list, and underlined it. It turned out to be the most important line.

Part Five. Mrs Pandy Tries

On Thursday, Mrs Pandy tried very, very hard not to look at the cupboard.

She painted with her back to it. She taught a whole lesson with her eyes shut, and the class had to tell her when their pictures were finished. She sat on her hands. At lunch, she sat next to Dot, who was eating her sandwich with her daisy beside her plate. Mrs Pandy said, "I'm trying not to wonder."

Dot said, "Is it working?"

Mrs Pandy said, "I'm wondering whether it's working."

Dot nodded wisely. "That's not the same as not wondering."

"No," said Mrs Pandy. "It isn't."

Then she said, "I do hope I can be good, Dot." And Dot, who had a sandwich in her mouth, said, "Mmm hmm," in a way that meant, "Of course you can."

But at home time, when everyone had gone, she crept back into the art room on her own.

We know, because Felix had left his lunchbox behind and went back for it. And Alex noticed Felix hadn't come out, and went after him.

They stood side by side in the doorway.

Part Six. The Humming

Mrs Pandy was kneeling in front of the cupboard, with the blanket pulled off. The box sat there, covered in locks, humming a tune.

It sounded like voices, a thousand tiny ones all at once.

"Let us out… it's stuffy in here… just a little peek… we only want to say hello…"

Mrs Pandy said, very quietly, "I'm only going to listen."

She put her ear against the lid. The voices got louder.

"Please… we're squashed… we've been in here for ever… you're the only one who's nice enough to help…"

Her hand crept towards the first lock.

Alex whispered, "Mrs Pandy?"

She jumped. She said, "Oh! You two! I was just..."

Felix said, "You were going to open it."

Mrs Pandy's eyes filled with tears. She said, "I want to know what's inside. It's the only thing in the world I don't know. It's so hard not knowing."

Alex said, "We know about that. We have a word for it."

Felix said, "Yet. I don't know yet."

She whispered, "But I want to now."

Alex said, "We know. Do you want to say something with us instead?"

They said it together, very kindly:

"STOP. BREATHE. THINK."

She took a deep breath. She took her hand away. She whispered, "Thank you."

They thought that was the end of it.

Part Seven. The Click

But at that exact moment, there was a loud SNAP.

Not from Mrs Pandy. From the box.

It was the last lock. It had been getting looser all week, because the things inside were pushing and pushing. It sprang open, and the lid flew up, and a long, thin wisp of grey smoke curled out.

Mrs Pandy shouted, "NO!"

She dived for the lid, but a whole cloud poured out of the box. Hundreds of tiny, grey, fluttery creatures, like moths made of fog, swirled round the art room, muttering and snarling and whispering. A cold draught blew through the room, and every colour on the walls went a little bit paler.

Willow had come in through the window. She stood on the sill with her tail straight up and her fur on end, and one of the wisps passed so close that it flattened her whiskers. She did not move. She looked at it as if it were a rude person on a bus.

The grey cloud flew straight through the window, and the walls, and the ceiling, and was gone.

The art room went silent. A paintbrush fell off a shelf. Mrs Pandy's painted apple, the one that looked so real, had gone grey and flat, like a rainy day.

Mrs Pandy sat on the floor, with her hands over her mouth.

She said, "I didn't open it."

Alex said, "We know."

Felix said, "It popped open by itself."

She said, "But I wanted to. I wanted it so much. And now I've let them out."

Part Eight. The First Grumble

At first, nothing seemed different.

But on Friday morning, Mr Harris came into assembly with a very sour face. He said, "Good morning, everyone. I'd like to say that I'm in a very bad mood, and I don't know why."

Everyone stared. Mr Harris is never grumpy before ten o'clock.

A Grumble was sitting on his shoulder. It was round and puffy and grey, like a bad-tempered pillow, and it was whispering into his ear, "Everything is annoying." Anybody a Grumble touched got very cross about very small things.

Mr Jackson shushed three children for breathing in the library. Mr Thorley slammed his toolbox shut and growled at a leaf. Mrs Ibbs put "NOTHING IS RIGHT" on the menu board.

Then Ollie said, "Kenji's looking at me."

Kenji said, "I'm not."

Ollie said, "You are."

Kenji said, "You're being silly."

Ollie said, "YOU'RE being silly."

A Squabble was zipping back and forth between them, thin and zigzaggy, like a bad idea with a tail. The longer a Squabble stayed, the bigger the argument got. And that's when Ollie and Kenji had the biggest argument of their lives, over absolutely nothing.

Then a boy from the class above told Mrs Tibbs that a dragon had eaten his homework. A Fib was tickling his nose. The dragon wasn't even real, and everybody, including the boy, knew it.

Maya was writing everything down. She looked up from her clipboard and whispered to us, "They're out, and they're real. And I think there are more kinds than these."

Part Nine. The Gods Try

The gods tried everything.

Mr Thorley said he would blow them away with thunder. Everyone said, "No!" and he looked even grumpier.

Mr Hermes flew round the school, trying to deliver the Fibs back to wherever they came from, but they kept slipping out of his bag.

Mr Shah tried dancing, but a Grumble sat on his head and he sulked.

Ms Athene tried asking clever questions, and a tiny, shivery grey thing crept into her ear. It was a Worry. It whispered, "What if you get the answer wrong? What if you're not good enough? What if?" and she went very quiet.

Mr Prome said, "I can't think ahead. The Worries have got my thinking-ahead." Mr Epp said, "Oh, now I'm thinking about it."

Willow went and sat on the head teacher's desk, between his clipboard and his hot cup of tea. She did not say anything, of course. But Mr Harris stopped scowling for a whole minute to stroke her, and the Grumble on his shoulder slid down into his collar and sulked.

By the afternoon, there were seven kinds of grey wisps, and Maya had drawn them all on her clipboard. Her pencil was shaking.

Part Ten. A Cloud on the Climbing Frame

Kenji said, in a small voice, "Mr Hanu has a Sad."

We looked. Mr Hanu was sitting on the climbing frame with his head on his knees, and a huge grey cloud was sitting on top of him. A Sad was big and heavy and slow, like a rain cloud with a face. Anybody it touched wanted to lie down on the floor and never get up.

Mr Hanu is the cheeriest person in the school. Now he sat there, quite still, looking at his own tail.

Alex said, "Mr Hanu?"

He didn't answer.

Felix sat down on one side of the frame. Alex sat down on the other. They didn't say anything clever. They just stayed there.

After a while, Mr Hanu said, very quietly, "It's no good. It's all gone wrong."

Felix said, "It might not be."

Mr Hanu said, "How do you know?"

Felix said, "I don't. But we're staying."

The Sad shifted a bit, as if it had not expected company. It didn't go away. But it didn't get bigger either.

Then they heard the first sneeze.

Part Eleven. The School Goes Grey

It got worse all through the afternoon.

First the Aches. They were pale and creaky, and they crept into people's heads and tummies and throats. Anybody they touched got hot and shivery and sniffly and tired. Mrs Tibbs sneezed, and then Mr Jackson sneezed, and then there was a sneeze in every classroom.

By lunchtime, half the school had a hot head and a heavy nose. Dot went to the medical room with a tummy ache and found it full already. Children sat in rows on the benches in blankets, with their eyes half shut, looking very small. Mrs Ibbs wrapped everybody up in the staff room curtains, because there weren't enough blankets. The benches, with a row of lumpy flowery bundles on them, looked like a lot of poorly sofas.

"Fun fact," said Elfine, who was helping, with a tissue in each hand. "A cold has nothing to do with being cold." She sneezed. "It's still annoying."

Marion fetched a pile of picture books from the Reading Cabin, and sat on the floor between the benches, and read in a soft voice to anybody who wanted it.

Then the Empties came. They were thin and hollow, like a dry bowl, and they went into cupboards and lunchboxes and made people feel there was never going to be enough. Mrs Ibbs lifted the lid on the biggest pot. It was full to the top, but she said, "There isn't enough. There'll never be enough," and she put the lid back on and wouldn't serve anyone. Two children hid their sandwiches up their jumpers. A boy grabbed Kenji's apple, and Kenji grabbed it back, and they glared.

And all day, the colour was draining out of the school. The front doors went the colour of porridge. The green gate went grey. The paintings in the corridor went flat and faded, one by one, like somebody was rubbing them out. The lights in the hall flickered and dimmed, and the warm, cosy, hello feeling the school always has in the morning went out, like a candle in a draught.

Dot's daisy was the only bright thing left in the medical room. She held it in both hands, and it stayed white and yellow, though she didn't know why.

It felt like the school had forgotten how to be a school.

Part Twelve. Over a Football

Then the Squabbles got properly going.

Ollie and Kenji weren't the only ones. One side said the football was theirs, and the other side said it was theirs, and soon there were two lines of children on the field, glaring at each other across the grass, with their fists tight. Somebody shoved somebody. Somebody shouted something very unkind. Mr Thorley and Mr Shah stood on either side of them, both of them red in the face, both of them shouting at the same time about who ought to say stop first.

For a moment it looked as if the whole school might truly fight, over a ball.

That's when Willow walked out onto the field.

She walked slowly, through the middle of the grass, between the two lines. She did not hurry. Everyone watched her. She reached the ball, and she looked at it. Then she sat down on it, wrapped her tail round her feet, and looked at the two sides, one after the other, with her very yellow eyes.

It is quite hard to shout at a cat on a football.

Nobody knew who was allowed to move her. Nobody wanted to be the one who did. One side looked at the other side. Somebody giggled, just for a second, and then stopped, because they remembered they were cross.

Nobody fought. But it was a very close thing, and everybody could feel it. Willow stayed where she was, looking at them like a teacher who is waiting for someone to say something sensible. She is the bravest cat we know, and she didn't even need her claws.

It wasn't going to hold for long, though. The Squabbles were still circling overhead.

Part Thirteen. The Twins

Alex and Felix had been all right all morning. They didn't know why.

But in the afternoon, it began to creep up on them, too.

A Worry found Alex first. Alex noticed it, very small and shivery, sitting right on his ear. It whispered, "What if nobody can fix it? What if it's like this for ever?" His tummy went cold, and his legs went wobbly, and he couldn't think of one single thing to say.

Felix said, "Alex? You've gone quiet."

Alex said, "I've got a Worry."

Felix didn't ask anything clever. He just sat down close, so their shoulders touched.

Then an Ache found Felix. His head went hot and his eyes went heavy, and he said, "I don't feel very well."

Alex noticed. He put his hand on Felix's back, and he said, "I've got you."

And then, because a Squabble was passing, it zipped between them, and each twin suddenly wanted to say something rotten. Alex opened his mouth to say, "It's your fault we're stuck." Felix opened his mouth to say, "No, it's yours."

They both stopped.

Felix said, very slowly, "That wasn't us."

Alex said, "It was the Squabble."

They said it together, as quietly as they could:

"STOP. BREATHE. THINK."

They took a big breath each. They counted to three. The Squabble flapped about, confused, and drifted off. The Worry on Alex's ear lost its grip, and Felix's head felt cooler, and his eyes came open again.

They sat under the oak tree, side by side, holding hands. It was very quiet. For a little while, they didn't have to do anything at all.

Alex said, "Why aren't we worse?"

Felix said, "I think it's because we're looking after each other."

Alex said, "Maybe the grey things only really get you when you're on your own."

Felix said, "Maybe that's how we fix it."

Alex said, "Maya said the jar was full of the things nobody wanted."

Felix said, "But if the jar was full of bad things, why was it a present?"

Alex said, "Maybe there's something else in it."

They said, together, "Yet."

They got up, a bit wobbly, and ran back to the art room.

Part Fourteen. The Bottom of the Jar

Mrs Pandy was sitting on the floor, still, with the empty box in front of her. She had been there for hours. Mr Epp was sitting next to her, not saying anything, which is the kindest thing he knows how to do.

Alex said, "Mrs Pandy, can we look in the box?"

She said, "It's empty. They've all gone."

Felix said, "Please. Just in case."

She sighed, and nodded.

Alex held the lid. Felix reached in. The inside was dark and cold and grey, and it smelled of damp socks. They felt around the bottom, and for a long moment there was nothing but dust. Alex noticed Felix's hand shaking, and held the lid tighter, so he'd know it wasn't going to close.

Felix's fingers found something small.

It was warm.

He lifted it out, very gently, in both hands.

It was the tiniest bird they had ever seen. It was about the size of a thumb. It had feathers like golden sparks, and a beak like a pin, and a body that glowed a soft, steady yellow, like a candle behind a curtain.

It sat on Felix's hand, and it blinked at them with two shining eyes.

Mrs Pandy gasped. She said, in a whisper, "It's Hope."

The little bird chirped. It was a very small chirp, like a bell on a mouse's collar.

Alex said, "She stayed in the jar."

Felix said, "She didn't fly out with the others."

Mrs Pandy said, "She never does. She stays at the bottom, waiting. Nobody ever told me that part."

Maya had arrived in the doorway with her book. "That's the bit I couldn't remember," she said.

Part Fifteen. One Little Bird

They carried Hope out into the playground, one hand each, close together. She glowed a bit brighter as they went, and wherever the light touched, something happened.

The first one they met was Ollie, who was still glaring at Kenji. A Squabble was sitting on his nose.

Hope fluttered over, and landed on his shoulder. She gave a tiny chirp.

The Squabble shrivelled up like a raisin, and floated off in a puff.

Ollie blinked. He said, "Kenji, I'm sorry. I don't know why I was cross."

Kenji said, "I'm sorry too. I don't know why I was either."

Alex whispered, "She works."

Felix whispered, "But there are hundreds of them. And only one of her."

They tried the big Sad on the climbing frame next. Alex held Hope up as high as he could. Hope shone, and the Sad shivered. But there was too much of it, and the golden glow got smaller and smaller, like a candle in a cold room. Hope's wings drooped. Felix cupped her in his hands. "She's tired," he said. "She can't do it alone."

Alex said, "I don't understand. She worked on Ollie."

Felix said, "What was different?"

Alex noticed. "Kenji. Kenji said sorry back."

Felix said, "It wasn't just the bird. It was Ollie too."

Dot came and stood between them. She was very small, and her plaits were messy, and she had a little grey Worry sitting on her head. But she took the twins' hands anyway, and the daisy shone in the other one.

She said, "Hope is little. But maybe it gets bigger when we all have some."

Alex said, "Like when we looked after each other."

Felix said, "Dot, that's it! We don't need to catch them all. We need to give everyone a bit of hope."

Alex said, "But how?"

Dot said, "Mrs Pandy asked Ollie what he was hoping for at lunch. He said pudding. And I think he got a bit happier just from saying."

Felix said, "Then we ask everybody."

Part Sixteen. Everybody Hopes

They stood on the climbing frame, one on each side, and they shouted so that the whole school could hear.

Alex shouted, "Everybody! There's still something good!"

Felix shouted, "And it's in you! Tell the person next to you what you hope for. Even a tiny thing!"

They held up the little golden bird, and the glow spread across the field, soft and warm.

Nobody moved. Then Dot, with a Worry on her head, said very clearly, "I hope Mr Hanu comes down from the climbing frame."

A small voice from the top said, "I hope so too."

The Sad over him gave a wobbly sigh, and began to leak away like steam from a kettle. Mr Hanu climbed down. He gave Dot a hug, and the Worry fell off her head and went poof.

Then Ollie said, "I hope there's pudding." Kenji said, "I hope it's a good one." Someone said, "I hope my head stops hurting." Someone else said, "I hope Mum can come and fetch me." The children on the benches sat up in their curtains. Everybody turned to the person next to them and said something, big or small, out loud.

And every time, the little bird glowed a bit brighter.

An Ache slid off Dot's tummy and out through the window, and she said, "Oh! I feel better," in a very surprised voice. Alex put a hand on one side of her, and Felix put a hand on the other. Nobody was on their own.

In the dining hall, Mrs Ibbs lifted the lid on the biggest pot again. An Empty popped out like a hiccup. She looked inside and said, "Well, would you look at that. There's plenty."

On the football field, the two lines of children looked at each other. Willow stood up, stretched, and strolled off, leaving the ball in the middle of the grass. Somebody laughed, and somebody said sorry, and somebody held out the ball, and in the end both teams played together, and nobody counted who was winning. Mr Thorley and Mr Shah both said "Sorry" at the same moment, then argued about who had said it first, and then laughed.

One by one, the children said it. Then the teachers. Then the dinner ladies, and the gods, and the mums and dads, who had come to see what the fuss was about.

And with every hope, the little golden bird grew a bit bigger. She grew from the size of a thumb to the size of a robin, to the size of a swan. Her feathers shone like the sun. She spread her wings over the whole school, and a warm golden light poured down like honey.

Every grey wisp that was left curled up and drifted away, and was gone. The biggest Sad of all, the one hanging over the oak tree, gave a long, wobbly sigh. It sank down, down, down, and settled on the grass like morning mist, and then it melted away.

The colours came back everywhere, the red of the bricks and the green of the gate, and the paintings in the corridor glowed again, brighter than before. The lights in the hall flickered, and then they came on, warm and steady, and the whole school felt like a school again.

Nobody said a word. Then Mr Harris, who had a smile on his face for the first time all day, said, "Well. That was a rotten day."

Everyone burst out laughing.

Part Seventeen. Mrs Pandy Says Sorry

Mrs Pandy was standing at the edge of the field with her hands clasped. Her eyes were red. She walked slowly up to Mr Harris.

She said, "I'm so sorry. I let them out. I should have listened to the note."

Mr Harris looked at her kindly. He said, "You were curious."

She said, "Curiosity isn't an excuse."

Mr Harris said, "No. But it's a very good thing. You asked questions, and you wanted to know, and I'm sure it will lead to lots of wonderful art." He paused. "You just need to ask first. And be prepared to wait."

She said, "I will. I promise."

Mr Epp came up and took her hand. He said, "I'm sorry I put the box in the cupboard where you could hear it. I should've thought."

She said, "You did think. Eventually."

Everybody laughed again.

She turned to Alex and Felix. She knelt, and took a hand each.

She said, "Thank you. You found the one thing everybody forgot."

Alex said, "It was in the bottom of the jar."

Felix said, "It always is."

Later, when the sun was low, we all went back to the art room. Mrs Pandy took the grey apple and put it on the windowsill. Then she took out a clean piece of paper and her best brush.

"Do you want to help?" she said.

We each had a go. Alex painted a green gate, with every bar, because he notices things. Felix painted a tiny golden bird, because he'd held one. Dot painted a daisy, and Willow put a paw in the yellow and walked across the corner of the page, and Mrs Pandy said that was the best signature she'd ever seen.

Mr Harris came in, looked at the new apple, and said, "That's a very good apple." Then he tried to eat it. Again.

We sat under the oak tree at home time, with the little golden bird, back to the size of a thumb, perched on Mrs Pandy's shoulder.

Felix was quiet for a while. Then he said, "I think there was always something at the bottom. Even when it was the worst day. We just had to look."

Mrs Pandy nodded, very slowly, with tears in her eyes, and she smiled.

"There is always hope," she said.

And the little bird chirped.

Part Eighteen. The Ending (With a Shell)

On the way out, we noticed that the school pond, the little one behind the Reception classroom, was making a noise.

It was a bubbling, burbling, rumbling sound, as though something very big was waking up.

Mr Harris walked past with his keys. He said, "Home time, everyone," and he did not look at the pond at all, because Mr Harris never notices anything that doesn't have a clipboard.

We ran over and peered in. The surface rippled. A pair of huge, wise, sleepy eyes opened under the water.

Then, slowly, a very large, very old head rose out of the pond. Behind it came a huge, dome-shaped shell, covered in waterweed.

It was a turtle. It was as big as a table.

It looked at us, and in a slow, deep, creaky voice, it said:

"Excuse me. Is this the school with the Chinese goddess? I've come to hold up the sky."

We all stared.

Alex noticed that the turtle was looking up, past us, past the roof, at the sky. He looked up, too. High above the school, in the clean blue, was a thin line, thinner than a hair. It was hardly there at all. But from a long way off came a tiny sound, like somebody tapping an egg with a spoon. Tik.

"A lady in a jade-green skirt," said the turtle. "It swishes like a tail. Have you seen her?"

Maya whispered, "I don't know that one. Yet."

Kenji whispered, "Which Chinese goddess?"

Alex looked at Felix. Felix looked at Alex.

They said, together, "Monday."

The End.