Chapter six, in which Dave the Cleaner meets Dave the Cleaner.
“Hey, when’s a why and how’s a who and why’s a where and which is best….” Dave the Cleaner walked and hopped and skipped along. Sometimes he even danced to a tune that came from where he did not know. Somehow he felt younger and more in touch with the world. Everything was more fascinating. He hummed and sang, “Hey, when’s a why and how’s a who and why’s a where and which is best….”
Dave the Cleaner marched along lost in thought. Sometimes he frowned so hard his eyebrows knitted together and he could see neither left nor right nor in-between. Sometimes he seemed to be arguing with himself because he would sniff and mutter,”Keep It Simple Stupid. I know best.” or he might growl “Huh!” and “Bah!” and “Doh!”
Maybe you and I can never know how and why and when and exactly where it happened but we can know in this story what happened. Dave the Cleaner walked SMACK-BANG into Dave the Cleaner so hard that they both bounced backwards onto their bums.
One glared at the other. One giggled at the other.
“Bah!”, growled one. “It’s all your fault – singing and dancing and away with the fairies!”
“Smile,” laughed the other, “Why, who is hurt? No one. That’s the main thing. So why worry?”
“Huh! Sniff! Its about time you grew up and took responsibility for your actions, you idiot!”
“ Hey, why worry if the seat of your pants gets a bit dusty when we can have so much more fun exploring the ways and the meaning of the whole universe?”
“Doh! Oh no! No one but no one must see me in dusty trousers! My Clean Image means everything to me!”
His wounded pride was such that Dave the Cleaner leapt to his feet and frantically beat his trousers with his hands. Still worried, he ran to a near-by pool of water, completely forgetting his nightmare about turning into a puddle. He turned around, bent and backed his bum out over the reflective surface of the pool, trying to see if there were any more spots of dust on his trouser seat. He was so embarrassed and upset that the swampy ground under his feet shook, making ripples with hundreds of reflections on the pool’s surface.
Dave the Cleaner was so worried about his Clean Image that he did not notice the other Dave the Cleaner had stood up and joined him by the pool, still laughing in a kindly way at their collision. All he now saw was a hundred reflections of his own shocked face peering over his dusty trousers. The hundred pictures reminded him ever so much of being in a television store with the same picture showing on a hundred screens. “Aghh!” he cried, for it was far worse. He realized every picture showed the dusty seat of his trousers, his own panicky face and the laughing face Dave the Cleaner. “Oh, no, my Clean Image is being ruined on national television,” he choked, quite forgetting where he was.
You have probably already imagined what happened next. Not knowing whether he was coming or going or which Dave the Cleaner was who, he blindly flailed around with his hands and grabbed them both. Already his bum was balanced way out over the water and now they both overbalanced and fell, SPLOOOSH, way deep into the pool.
There was a long, long pause. The ripples on the pool from the SPLOOOSH slowly died away, leaving only a perfect reflection of the blue sky overhead. Occasionally a fluffy white cloud might drift, a bird might zoom, a dandelion fairy might float through the blue. Look up. Look down. Which were the real clouds, birds and seed parachutes? Which were their reflections? It was hard to know which was what.
Then the surface of the water began to become milkier and milkier. What might have happened to both Dave the Cleaners? Now the reflection of the water became as white as a bedroom ceiling and there was even a rippling reflection of a lampshade.
“Gasp!” “Gasp?” The reflection was shattered by two heads bursting through the surface of the puddle, both gasping for air. They both floundered around in circles for a few moments.
Then Dave the Cleaner swam to the pillow, pulled himself out of the puddle and, mumbling and grumbling, he perched himself on the headboard of the bed.
Meanwhile Dave the Cleaner swam to the foot of the bed and, with much heaving and panting and laughing, he managed to clamber out of the puddle and sit atop the footboard of the bed.
There they sat, arms outstretched, like two big, old shags perched on the seashore rocks with their wings outstretched to dry.
The reason they were so soaking wet was they had pulled much of the puddle up with them. Now, even as they dried out, the puddle on the bed faded and vanished before their very eyes.
“This is all really rather weird,” you are perhaps saying. Well you should listen to their argument then.
“Huh! I only dreamed I turned into a puddle. So that’s that. Its back to sleep for me as soon as I dry out.”
“Hmmm, OK, so that’s your dream. I dreamed the children of the Mahoe tree saved the puddle, which is me, and they created me a new body and see, here I am.”
“ Bah! Impossible! Not even adults can do that. Children know little or nothing. They are just empty jars that us adults have to fill up with knowledge, oh, and put the lid on to keep it in them.”
“Hmmm. Would I be here without the care and wisdom of the five-year old children of the Mahoe tree? Surely they already knew the ways of liquids, solids and gases as well, if not better than many adults?”
“Ridiculous! Next you will be saying children are the teachers while adults are the students or the future is the past while the past is the future, Yeah, next you will be saying teaching is learning, answers are questions and other nonsense.”
“Oh maybe, just maybe, this could be so. How come you are there? Why am I here? Are we not the same puddle?”
“Pifff! No! The puddle in the bed was my dream. The children of Mahoe class dreamed you up. They are definitely two entirely different dreams.”
“Ah, my friend, then who dreamed the pool that became the puddle on this bed? And surely the children of Mahoe are as real as this bed and the air we breathe?”
Maybe you have had similar arguments with your brothers, sisters and friends? So by now you may be asking, “ Is this is one of those arguments that can go on and on and on forever?”
Well, possibly. We can probably never truly know because none of us live forever to find out. And you are right to assume it was Mahoe Dave the Cleaner who asked the last big question.
The story goes there was a long pause before an answer came. It came in the form of the sound of something wooden going “Clonkety Clonkety Clonkety”
As soon as he heard it, Dave the Cleaner leapt off the bed head onto the floor exclaiming, “ Whoops, I know that sound so well. It’s the sound of Mum stirring the old tin porridge pot with her special big, wooden spoon. I’m staying with Mum and Dad for a few days to help them with a few, odd jobs around the house. You better go quick.”
At the same time another answer came in the form of something going “Rrrrgh, Rrrrgh, Rrrrgh”. Dave the Cleaner leapt off the foot of the bed onto the floor exclaiming, “ Whoops, I know that sound so well. It’s the sound of Dad winding up the spring of the large old clock on the kitchen shelf. Funny, I’m also staying with Mum and Dad for a few days to help them with a few odd jobs around the house. Hey one of us has to vanish quick.”
“Oi! I’ll have you know I am the real Dave the Cleaner. I’m boss. Dreams aren’t real. This one is over. You are impossible. Vanish.”
“‘Wait, taiho, could it be we are both possible? Maybe we are as real as each other. Here’s an idea: why don’t we let Mum and Dad decide who is real and who is not. They are nearly ninety years old now and have known us since we were born 65 years ago.”
There was a silence and then both Dave the Cleaners heard a sound each knew well. Seven “Bongs ” rang out. The large old clock on the kitchen shelf chimed 7 o’clock exactly in time with the 7 o’clock bips on the radio.
And in that moment there came the “Clonk Clonk Clonk”, the sound of Mum’s wooden spoon scraping the porridge out of the pot onto three plates. Dave the Cleaner looked at Dave the Cleaner.
“Quick. We make a deal. We take turns to sleep in the bed and under the bed each night.”
“Okay and the one who sleeps under the bed gets to have breakfast here while the other one sneaks out the window and eats elsewhere that day.”
“It’s a deal”.
“It’s a deal”.
They heard footsteps coming towards the bedroom. Quick as a wink Dave the Cleaner was tucked up in bed snoring and Dave the Cleaner was hidden under the bed trying not to snore.
End chapter six.
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Please note: this is a first draft script (Jan 2020) and prototype format of How the Children of the Mahoe Tree Saved Our World. I plan to create illustrations to complement each chapter as soon as possible.
Please enjoy tolerance – my diplopia means I struggle to read what I write.
This story is based on a true event. A class of five-year olds created the central plot. In the process they showed young children, unlike many adults, retain the vital spirit of inquiry and comprehension of the fundamental thermodynamics required to care for Earth’s atmosphere.
Some grand ideas and questions from Chapter Two
Idea: Pending 7 march 2020
Question: Pending