Norbert

Norbert

  By James Sutherland

  Copyright 2011 James Sutherland

  Cover Illustration by James Sutherland Copyright 2011

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue

  Other Titles by James Sutherland

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Norbert stood sheltering from the rain underneath the old sycamore tree that stood in the middle of Finbar’s field. It had stopped raining two days ago but Norbert, who was never the most intelligent of horses, had failed to notice. He gazed thoughtfully at the ground beneath his hooves and saw that he had eaten every last blade of grass in that particular patch. For a moment he was baffled, but then something very unusual occurred; Norbert had a thought! Colin the cuckoo would know what to do… Snuggled in his nest, high up in the old sycamore tree, Colin was a wise old bird who had known Norbert ever since he was a young foal.

  “Are you there Colin?” Norbert whinnied, peering up into the leafy branches above his head.

  “Of course I’m here!” Colin warbled from high up in his nest, a bit annoyed at being disturbed from his newspaper. “You know I’m too old to get out much these days.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Norbert. “It’s just that I’ve eaten all of the grass under the tree, and I’m still a bit peckish and…”

  “Then move out from underneath the tree and eat some of the grass from the rest of the field, you clod-hopping clot!” interrupted Colin. “And don’t come pestering me with any more of your silly questions!”

  Norbert waddled sadly out into the May sunshine. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Fortunately, he was such a forgetful horse that the unpleasant episode with Colin soon vanished from his mind as he tucked into to the fresh green grass at the other end of the field.

  After an hour of chomping and chewing to his heart’s content, Norbert realized that he was very thirsty. He had learned over the course of his twenty-seven years in the field that whenever he was thirsty, he needed to pay a visit to the water trough, and so off he went. It was as he leaned over the stone trough to begin his drink that he saw something that made him rear up in terror. There was another horse peering out of the water at him! His first instinct was to trot as fast as his tired old legs would carry him back to the old sycamore tree to tell Colin what had happened, but a hazy memory in the back of his mind made him pause. The last time he had told Colin about the strange horse in the water trough, his feathery friend had been very annoyed. Norbert tried and tried as hard as he could to remember why…

  Eventually after several minutes of intense pondering, he recalled that Colin had explained that he needn’t be afraid of the horse in the water trough because it was just his own reflection.

  Aha! Norbert grinned a toothy grin. Wait until I tell Colin how clever I’ve been!

  First things first, though – he had better have a drink. And so, licking his big rubbery lips with anticipation, he turned back towards the trough, only to rear up in terror once again… The strange horse was still there, peering up at him! Already, silly old Norbert had forgotten everything he had just remembered!

  A little later on, he tried again. “It’s only a reflection… It’s only a reflection…” he muttered as he leaned his head over the trough, closed his eyes, and began to drink the clear, cold water. When his big fat belly was too full to drink any more, he drew his head back and frowned. He waited for the ripples in the water to die down and looked again.

  Was it a trick of the light? Was he seeing things? No - there was no denying the awful truth…

  NORBERT’S TEETH WERE GREEN!

  “Oh Colin! Colin!” he whinnied as he arrived panting and wheezing beneath the old sycamore tree “My teeth are green!”

  “Goodness me, Norbert,” came the impatient reply from above “this is hardly front page news! Your teeth have always been green. It’s what comes of a lifetime of chewing grass and never cleaning them. Now will you kindly trot along and leave me in peace whilst I finish my crossword.”

  “But what will Delilah think if she sees me?” Norbert pleaded. “Her teeth are always lovely and white!”

  Delilah was a pretty young pony who sometimes grazed in the adjacent field. Ever since he had set eyes on her, Norbert had been deeply in love, though he had never plucked up the courage to tell her so.

  “Delilah is much younger than you, Norbert, and the little girl from the farm grooms her and cleans her teeth before the horse shows each weekend,” Colin clucked. “Anyway, I thought we’d agreed that you were going to forget about that frisky filly. You know what Kipling said about the female of the species, don’t you?”

  “No,” came the honest reply.

  “He said that that they were deadlier than the male. Trust me, my friend, that girl spells trouble with a capital ‘T’, and you would be well advised to steer well clear of her if I were you!”

  Heartbroken, Norbert waddled away, his head filled with sad thoughts. Colin was ever so clever and was always right about everything. He was just a fat old horse. A brainless, fat old, horse. Why on Earth would a pretty pony like Delilah ever be interested in him? Yes - he would listen to Colin’s advice and do his best to forget about her. Deep down, however, Norbert feared that Delilah was just about the only thing in the world he simply couldn’t forget about, however hard he tried.

  “At least I still have Colin for a friend,” he murmured as he plodded away to a far corner of the field.

  “And don’t go thinking you can hang around with me, either,” came a grouchy voice from high up in the branches of the old sycamore tree.

  Chapter 2

  “Colin? Are you there?” It was the next morning and Norbert was back in his favourite spot underneath the old sycamore tree.

  “Yes?” chirruped a voice from above.

  “I’ve been thinking...”

  “Really Norbert? I must say I find that very hard to believe. Now, if you don’t mind pushing along...”

  “No Colin,” Norbert replied doggedly. “It’s true; I have been thinking, all night long.”

  There followed a great deal of rustling as the cuckoo made a clumsy descent through the branches of the tree. Seconds later, a beaky face poked itself out from among the foliage.

  “Well?” the cuckoo clucked. “And what, pray tell, have you been thinking about? The meaning of life, perhaps? Or maybe you have solved the age old question as to the origins of the universe?”

  Norbert hesitated. He had a strong suspicion that Colin was not going to like what he was about to say, but he was determined to say it anyway.

  “Erm no,” he cringed “not exactly. I’ve been thinking that I would like to clean my teeth. I know what you said about Delilah, but I still think that if I had clean teeth she might want to talk to me and we could become friends.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?”

  “Yes.”

  Hopping down from his branch, Colin landed with a plop on the end of Norbert’s nose and fixed him with a steely glare.

  “And has it occurred to you by any chance that, in order to clean your teeth, you would need a toothbrush and some toothpaste?”

  “Oh?” Norbert frowned. Indeed, this had not occurred to him…

  “Of course you would,” the cuckoo continued “and as you do not possess either of the above, we can safely say that the matter is concluded and that this nonsense must cease.”

  “Eh?”

  “I am trying to explain to you that however much you want to clean your teeth, it simply isn’t possible. Now – if you don’t mind, I’ll be heading home to finish the crossword I was doing before I was so rudely interrupted.”

  And with thes
e words, Colin hopped from his perch on the horse’s nose and set off on the short-haul flight back up to his nest.

  Baffled, Norbert looked around in dismay. It was a beautiful morning, the bright sunshine warming his flanks, a gentle breeze tickling his tangled mane, making the dandelions dance along the bottom of the hedgerow. And yet at that moment, he felt sadder than he had ever done before in his whole life. Absent-mindedly, he wandered over to the five-bar gate that separated his field from Delilah’s. There was no sign of her today; she must be away at a horse show - a good thing as he desperately didn’t want her to see him while his teeth were still green. He was about to waddle back over to the water trough for another look at them when something truly astonishing occurred; Norbert had another thought! For almost an hour he stood motionless as, from tiniest grain in the back of his mind, this thought grew and grew, finally blossoming into a dazzling rainbow of hope that sent a shiver through his whole body. At last! For the first time ever in his life, Norbert had had an idea! But wait...this was more than just an idea... against all the odds, he had actually come up with a plan!

  *

  “Colin?”

  “Yes Norbert?”

  “I’m back.”

  “Yes – I gathered that. And how can I be of assistance?”

  “I’ve been thinking again.”

  “Look! How many times do I have to tell you...”

  “No Colin. I really have been thinking. I am going to clean my teeth but I need you to help me.”

  “Norbert please try and understand. You don’t have a toothbrush or any toothpaste. Neither do I. Your owner, Farmer Finbar, is a mean and grumpy old so-and-so who would never in a million years think to give your teeth a clean. What’s more, you are shut up in a field. The gate is closed and you can’t possibly get out in order to obtain a toothbrush. And there I rest my case.”

  “But…”

  “Goodbye, my friend – don’t forget to write.”

  “But…”

  “Farewell. Au revoir. Adios.”

  There followed what is sometimes referred to as a pregnant silence as Norbert pondered the situation.

  “Colin?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you fly?”

  “Of course I can fly. What do you think I am? I’m a cuckoo, you know – not some species of penguin!”

  “I was thinking that, if you can fly, then you could fly away and find a toothbrush and some toothpaste for me.”

  “That is the most ridiculous suggestion I have ever heard.”

  “But why?”

  “Well...Well... I... I...”

  Norbert peered up into the dense foliage, a glimmer of hope swelling in his heart. If he could only persuade Colin to go along with his plan...

  “Farmer Finbar’s house is just up on the hill over there. I can see that he has some of those window things open because it’s such a hot day. You could easily fly in through one of them and borrow a toothbrush and some toothpaste for me.”

  “Oh – I could, could I?”

  “Yes, Colin - you could.”

  For a moment, it was the cuckoo’s turn to be baffled.

  “Well I c… can’t,” he stammered. “I can’t because... Because I’m feeling a little bit under the weather today and need to rest. Yes that’s it – I need to rest. Awfully sorry about that, but there it is.”

  Norbert knew that it was now or never. The moment had come for him to play his trump card.

  “If I had clean teeth and made friends with Delilah, I could talk to her every day and wouldn’t need to disturb you again, ever.”

  A stunned silence from above.

  “N... Not disturb me again?”

  “No Colin.”

  “Ever?”

  “No Colin.”

  “Let me get this straight, Norbert. You are saying that if I were somehow able to purloin a toothbrush and clean your teeth, allowing you to strike up a warm and loving friendship with Delilah, you would then be prepared to leave me alone? Forever?”

  “Yes Colin.”

  “Forever and ever Amen?”

  “Yes Colin.”

  “Right ho! Clear the runway – Standby for take-off - I’m coming down!”

  Chapter 3

  Colin’s descent from the sycamore tree was a harrowing spectacle which did not bode well for the mission ahead. First there came a violent rustling sound from high up in the branches. This was immediately followed by a strangled ‘squawk,’ as something plump and feathery emerged from the foliage in a steep downward trajectory, hurtling like a meteor towards the ground below.

  “Colin?”

  “Yes?” came the winded reply.

  “Are you sure you can fly?” Norbert stood peering down anxiously at his friend who was now lying in a crumpled heap between his front hooves.

  “Of course I can fly!” Colin gasped. “Everyone knows that the cuckoo flies south each winter to enjoy the warming African sun.”

  Norbert shuffled his hooves uneasily. For as long as he could remember, Colin had spent every single winter in his nest in the sycamore tree, but he was worried that pointing this out would only make his feathered friend even angrier.

  “Is it nice in Africa?” he ventured tactfully.

  “Well... I must confess I haven’t been down there for a year or two. It is a bit of a trek after all, and when you get to my age, it’s important not to overdo these things. Anyway, enough of this chit-chat,” he clucked, eager to change the subject as quickly as possible. “I have daring deeds to perform. Now stand aside while I prepare for take-off.”

  Again, Norbert studied his friend with concern. Though Colin was unquestionably a cuckoo, a species of bird capable of flying thousands of miles each year, there was something about him that did not seem quite right. Whereas a fit and healthy cuckoo has a long, straight tail, Colin’s was a crooked affair which seemed to stick out at a peculiar angle. And whilst a healthy cuckoo has pointed, streamlined wings like a fighter jet, Colin’s looked tatty and misshapen, like a World War I bi-plane that has been machine-gunned from the trenches below.

  “Maybe we should think of a different plan,” Norbert began, but he was too late.

  Ignoring his plea, the cuckoo suddenly lurched into motion and began to taxi unsteadily along a strip of flattened grass that was to serve as a runway. Norbert could only look on in growing alarm as his friend rapidly picked up speed before launching himself skywards with a strangled squawk! To his amazement, the plump cuckoo somehow managed to remain in the air, feverishly flapping his wings, pitching and wheeling wildly from side to side.

  “Gug, gug , gug, gug!” Colin cried as he swooped high above the horse’s head.

  “Pardon?” Norbert replied, squinting up into the sunshine.

  “It’s the sound that a cuckoo makes when agitated,” Colin explained “and believe me, I am seriously agitated right now. If I’m not back within the hour, please inform my next-of-kin that I perished nobly in the field of duty. I would like to request a quiet funeral ceremony with only close family present. No flowers please.”

  And with these chilling words, he flew off in the direction of Finbar’s farmhouse. Norbert watched as his friend headed away into the distance until he became nothing more than a speck on the horizon. A plump, odd-looking speck, but a speck nonetheless.

  Unsure about how to pass the time before his friend returned, Norbert lowered his head and began to munch away at a clump of long grass. He had barely finished his first mouthful when he paused. Growing ever-louder, he could hear a noise. It was a chugging, whirring sort of a noise; the sound of a motor car engine. Raising his head, he gazed across the fields to the old lane and was dismayed to see a car heading in his direction, towing what was clearly a small, pink horsebox.

  “Delilah,” he gibbered despairingly “and my teeth are still green!”

  He watched, transfixed, as the vehicle drew ever nearer, finally grinding to a halt by the gate of the adjacent field. Both car doors opened a
nd a little girl hopped excitedly out of the passenger side, chatting happily to her father who emerged stiffly from the driver’s seat sporting a smart, green wax jacket. He had the air of a man who belonged in a suburban semi-detached house, but who enjoyed indulging his daughter’s hobby at weekends as this allowed him to briefly imagine himself in the role of a country Squire. They conversed for a few seconds before the man began to unfasten the sturdy metal catches that secured the door of the horse box. Norbert goggled in rapt wonder as, with the uncanny grace of a supermodel on a catwalk, Delilah trotted down the ramp towards her owner. Slimy green dribble dripped from Norbert’s lower lip as he watched the little girl gently stroking Delilah’s golden mane before giving her a carrot, closely followed by a sugar lump. Glancing at his watch, her father mumbled something about needing to be home in time for the football game on TV and so, having given Delilah another hug, the little girl hopped back into the car. Seconds later, there was a rumble of an engine and they were gone.

  For a moment, Delilah stood and watched as the car disappeared into the distance. Norbert glanced around anxiously. He loved Delilah and did want to talk to her, but not until his teeth had been cleaned. Although she was in a different field, there was only a low hedge separating them, and he realized to his dismay that he would be clearly visible wherever he stood. There were some rather large badger holes down at the bottom of Finbar’s field, near the pond, but he was fairly certain that he would not fit into any of these. Anyway, the badgers were notoriously grumpy old things and would not take kindly to a horse trying to join them their cosy set. Indeed, the only possible feature that offered any sort of cover was the sycamore tree. Though it was a very large tree with a wide trunk, Norbert was much too fat to fully conceal himself behind it, but it w0ould at least provide a little camouflage. Yes! Delilah would never spot him there: he would stand still and silently beneath its leafy branches until Colin returned with the toothbrush and toothpaste.

  “Oh Norbert! Cooey!” came a musical voice from the gate of the next field. Delilah had immediately noticed his large rotund belly protruding around each side of the tree trunk. Panic-stricken, Norbert did the only thing he could think of, which was to pretend he hadn’t heard her.