Tom-tom And The Punch Bowl Of Irish Moss 4d4ip

Copyright © 2012 by Paulet Facey. 121958-FACE

ISBN: Softcover 978-1-4797-3908-0 ISBN: Ebook 978-1-4797-3909-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Dedication

To my son MJ. His love for animals has inspired me to write this book

“You puppies need to swallow all your vitamins. It is going to make you grow healthy and strong,” John-John says. He takes the vial from the pocket of his long white coat. Then, using the dropper he puts two drops of the red liquid in the fifth puppy’s mouth. Looking over to the goat pen, John-John says, “I must tie Nancy in some fresh grass so she can have lots of milk for her kids.” John-John walks quickly to do his chores as the chicken truck arrives.

“Mr. Green, we are not able to do the beaks of this last batch of one hundred chickens,” the deliveryman says as he jumps from the driver’s seat. “John-John, it seems we will be having a long evening. We cannot put these chickens into the coop before their beaks are treated,” Dad says. “You think they will hurt the others, Dad?” John-John asks. “They sure will, son, you can’t trust a chicken with a sharp beak.”

“Do I have to help you, Dad?” John-John asks as he glances at his book on the bench in front of the garage. “I’m very tired, Dad, I want to rest and read my book. This book tells about verbs. It says verbs tell about action or a state of being. See it says,‘skip’ is an action verb but ‘is’ is a state of being verb.”

Wiping his brow, John-John says, “Dressing Ms. Tyson’s wounds is hard work. She seems to be having a lot of pain. She would not sit still.” JohnJohn moves the book over on the bench and starts working on the chicken beaks. The radio in the car is playing Jamaican reggae. He turns the dial up so that he can hear the song.

Tom-Tom, a mongoose who lives in the bushes over the fence, smells the chickens. He runs quickly across the driveway behind one of the crates of chickens. He is excited as he comes closely to the frightened chickens. Soon he is running over the verandah and, before long, straight into the washroom.

“Help, help!” is the loud cry from the washroom. Elizabeth runs out of the room knocking over all the folded clothes. “It is over here,” she screams. Poor Tom-Tom is so frightened that he darts out of the washroom. He lands on the sofa. He does not know what to do. He climbs upon the drape unto the top of the curtain rod. He keeps running and falls about two meters, but he keeps running. Tom-Tom tries to get out of the living room but ends up lost in the dining room.

“Dad, John-John, come, help a mongoose is in the house,” Elizabeth shouts. She jumps on the sofa at the far end of the room. “Get out mongoose, get out,” she shouts.

Tom-Tom does not know what to do. He climbs on the edge of the tablecloth and runs upon the table. His back paws land into the sweet potato pudding. “Look at the indentations in your pudding, Mom,” Elizabeth says. TomTom starts to jump around quickly then suddenly plunk; he lands in Mrs. Green’s gigantic bowl of Irish moss. Tom-Tom’s head begins to pop up and down. He tries to swim, but every time he touches the edge of the crystal bowl he falls back into the creamy foaming sea. By this time almost everyone is screaming. All the chickens are excited causing a grand concert in the yard. The neighbors are staring from across their fences.

“It is going to be fine guys,” Dad says as he goes through the dining room door. “I’ll get him.” Dad walks over to the dinner table. Using a heavy Dutch pot lid, he covers the punch bowl. Tom-Tom is jumping up and down in the juice. “Dad, do you think Tom-Tom will be fine?” John-John asks. “I’m moving quickly to get him out, son,” says Dad. John-John bows his head. He pulls out a soiled towel from his coat pocket. Dad carries Tom-Tom with the juice and empties the container far from the chicken coop. “Tom-Tom looks as if he has a perm,” Elizabeth says. The mongoose lies listless for a few minutes. “Dad, Tom-Tom looks like a squirrel.” John-John dries Tom-Tom with the towel before letting him scamper off into the bushes.