Baggledorf, Poppy and Fred walked down the path passed Grandpa’s cottage and disappeared amongst the pines. A mile or so later, the forest ended and below the unbroken blue sky was a huge hole in the ground. It looked like an enormous valley carved out of the forest floor. Poppy could see two rock-faces a great distance apart. Between them, there was a dark deep lake stretching as far as you could see.
“This is the old quarry,” Baggledorf explained. Poppy’s freckled forehead crumpled into a slight frown.
Baggledorf and Poppy walked to the edge. They lay on their tummies, with their heads hanging over the edge.
Poppy gulped. A wind chilled her face. She stared down into the quarry’s depths. She had never seen anything so enormous. You could probably stack 10 buses on top of each other and still not fill it.
“No one knows how deep the quarry is,” Baggledorf explained, “the water fills most of it and no one has ever swum to the bottom.”
He sighed and flicked a stone over the edge. It tumbled forever and finally hit the water, too far below to hear the splash.
“Of course, “ he continued quietly, “one of my classmates, Flapper, tried to swim to the bottom for a bet. We saved him, but he never went near water again…”
Baggledorf’s voiced trailed off thoughtfully. She gulped, looking down to the watery depths.
Then Poppy spotted some rickety steps on the other side. The steps led down to a wide rock ledge, about half way up the quarry face. It was a big ledge with a couple of bushes and a little wooden shack.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the ledge.
“That’s where we’re going,” he said excitedly, “my friend lives there. Humans think it’s just an old worker’s hut, but it’s not.”
They edged themselves back onto the dusty path and set off around the quarry.
Fred followed, stopping occasionally for a sniff and a wee, then sprinting to catch up. Poppy still never really understood how Fred could wee so often!
At the far side of the quarry, Baggledorf picked Fred up and carried him under one gigantic arm. Together they descended the worn-out steps to the shack. Poppy followed carefully. The steep, wooden steps were nailed to the quarry rock face. You could catch glimpses of the water far below in the cracks in the wood. Whenever she looked down, her tummy felt funny.
“Keep your eyes up.” advised Baggledorf seeing Poppy pale.
It was a long climb down to the hut.
Fred was licking Baggledorf’s face, making him laugh. He had always thought dogs were odd creatures, but now he was beginning to see why humans liked them so much. Dogs were really nice, just a bit smelly.
As they reached the rock ledge, a gruff voiced shouted, “Who’s there?”
“Hi George, it’s only me.”
Standing outside the hut, Poppy and Baggledorf craned their necks backwards to look up at his enormous friend.
George was a gigantic troll. He was much older than Baggledorf. At the last guess, they reckoned he was 572 years old. The old troll heaved himself out of his front door and grinned at his visitors. He had a long white beard, shaggy white hair and a very round tummy.
“Heh, heh,” grinned George, as he looked down at Poppy, “Hello there my little human.”
George lived at the quarry all alone and loved having guests. He smiled at Poppy and patted her on the back.
Nervously twisting her hair round a finger and hovering on the doorstep to George’s shack, she gazed up at the friendly but enormous face.
“Come in,” he invited softly and turned back inside.
“My guess is that you’ve come here for a spot of flying eh?”
Poppy shot a confused look at Baggledorf. He giggled, his chubby cheeks wobbling as he chortled.
Her initial fright at meeting such a big troll was turning into curiosity.
“Hmm,” continued George, “It’s a lovely day to take a cloud out in the quarry.”
“What do you mean? How do you fly clouds?” Poppy blurted out, stepping carefully over the high threshold.
The two trolls laughed with glee and Fred barked.
The inside of the hut was very comfortable. Next to the fireplace there was a rug and the most enormous armchair she had ever seen. George sat down in it with a groan. He almost disappeared into the piles of brightly coloured cushions.
“Ahhh that’s better,” he sighed as he lit a long pipe.
Baggledorf busied himself in a corner cupboard. He filled a bowl with water for Fred, who lapped noisily, flicking water and spit onto the floor.
George puffed slowly on his pipe. Suddenly with one big blow a large cloud of smoke popped out of the end. The cloud hovered in the air, clearly waiting for something.
Whooping, Baggledorf clattered out of the kitchen corner. He leapt onto the cloud and knelt down. With his arms hanging low on each side of the cloud, he began to paddle.
Poppy watched with amazement as he circled her, flying the cloud just above her head. He was laughing and shouting.
“I love riding on George’s clouds. Isn’t he clever?” he squealed.
The old troll puffed on his pipe again and produced another slightly smaller cloud. It hovered obediently at Poppy’s feet.
“Go on, hop on,” Baggledorf shouted.
He was out of breath with all his laughing.
She nervously stepped onto the cloud, expecting her foot to plunge through. But the cloud felt soft and firm, like a floating marshmallow. She comfortably sank onto her knees, touched the soft cotton folds of the cloud, and looked up at her fellow cloud flyer.
“So… paddle!” he yelled from his cloud at the ceiling.
She dropped her arms to each side of the cloud and paddled furiously. The cloud took off at an amazing pace, then smacked into the opposite wall of the hut. Poppy and the cloud lay in a pile on the floor. Fred barked, then ran over to lick her dismayed little face.
George slowly pulled himself up from his chair. He was chuckling to himself.
“Hmm, a quick lesson is in order, I believe,” he said.
He helped the dazed Poppy upright and straightened out the cloud.
She pulled herself back into a kneeling position on the soft folds. George explained how paddling faster or slower with your hands made the cloud move at different speeds. He showed how a left-hand only paddle turned the cloud left and a right-hand only paddle turned it right. Leaning forward made it accelerate. Leaning back, with a tug on the front of the cloud, acted as a brake. Cloud control seemed pretty easy.
Within minutes she had joined Baggledorf. They soared around the hut in fits of giggles. Fred barked wildly on the floor below. One moment he was barking up towards the clouds. The next he was chasing his tail round and round in circles. The poor dog had almost gone mad with excitement.
George opened the door and Baggledorf shouted, “Follow me!”
Before Poppy knew it, she was out the door and following him down the quarry on her cloud. The warm summer air rushed through her hair. Her tummy lurched as the cloud surged forward, like she was on a roller coaster at the fair.
She sped off the rock ledge where George lived, with only a fluffy cloud between her and the great drop into the gigantic quarry below. She gulped and clung to the cloud. Baggledorf was ahead of her, diving his cloud towards the water.
Poppy slowed her cloud, hovering in the centre of the cavernous rock gully. A flock of forest birds flew past her twittering. She was sure they were laughing at her crumpled face and white knuckles.
The dark quarry waters sparkled in the afternoon sun. Baggledorf was far ahead of her now, just a little dot way down below, hovering above the water.
Poppy took a deep breath and lent forward. As the cloud got up speed, she pushed lightly into its candy floss folds and directed it down. The cloud went faster and faster. She lent to the left, taking a sharp bend to catch up with Baggledorf. Her little cloud turned almost on its side to take the corner and she slid off, grabbing a fold just in time. The cloud continued to turn left and down, spiralling faster and faster to the water below.
“Eeeeek” she screamed, holding on until her fists ached.
“Baggledorf!!!” she screeched.
Then out of nowhere came a great big troll-hand that pulled her back onto the cloud. Baggledorf had spotted his friend in trouble and raced to the rescue. He had never flown so fast.
Trembling, she lay forward on her cloud, burying her face into its soft folds. After several minutes, she finally recovered her breath and sat up again.
“You need to take the corners carefully,” said Baggledorf with a wink.
Baggledorf towed Poppy’s cloud gently down until they hovered steadily, just above the quarry lake.
“Come on silly,” he chuckled, looking at her nervous face. She felt like she might cry.
“That was just beginner’s nerves, you’ll be fine now.”
He dipped his cloud, gently flicking water at Poppy with his free hand. She slowly steered her cloud forward, a smile gradually spreading over her face. She felt more confident now they had reached the bottom. The water was just below and seemed bluer in the bright sunshine. The quarry sides loomed above to each side.
Grandpa always said you should jump straight back on your bike the moment you fall off, and she decided it was probably the best way to deal with a cloud accident too.
Baggledorf showed Poppy some of his cloud tricks. He did a marvellous double loop-the-loop, forward then backwards. She decided to try that next time. Instead she lay back, snuggling comfortably into her hovering cloud, to watch her friend’s acrobatic display.
Tired of loop the loops, Baggledorf formed two horns on the front of his cloud. Then jumping wildly on his bum, his cloud started to bounce off the water, each bounce taking him higher into the air. As he whizzed skyward, he ripped a piece of cloud, moulded it into a ball and threw it at Poppy.
Lazing around on her cloud watching him bounce, she did not notice the cloud-ball in time. It smashed into fluffy pieces all over her hair and clothes. Laughing, she started to launch cloud-balls and her friend. He was rather a hard target; a mad, bouncing troll with wind-swept hair, boggley eyes and a massive grin! Eventually, she landed a large cloud-ball right in the middle of his chubby face.
The he started a full cloud-attack, preparing fluffy cannon balls to launch from a giant gun that he had moulded to the rear of his bouncing cloud. Poppy could not compete and sped away, Baggledorf in hot pursuit, launching cloud-balls as he flew.
An hour or so later, the two tired cloud fliers brought their clouds into land at George’s hut. They jumped off and sat down to cold apple juice at George’s table. The two clouds vanished with a pop.
“Thank you so much,” said Poppy, beaming at her two new wonderful friends.
“I expect it’s time for you two to be off home,” said George softly.
“Take care of your new friend, Baggledorf. You know the rules about humans,” warned George quietly to Baggledorf, as Poppy headed to the door with Fred.
“Don’t worry.” he smiled, patting George’s enormous elbow.
The old troll turned slowly towards the window. The sun was low in the sky.
Poppy yawned as she waved goodbye. Baggledorf, Fred and Poppy made their way back up the rickety steps, through the forest and past the well, to the bottom of Grandpa’s steps.
Poppy had been marching ahead to get home. She turned to say goodbye, but Baggledorf had gone, vanished between the boulders and trees in the fading light.
Grandpa was sitting on the veranda as usual. He was waiting for them to return. He patted Fred on the head.
“I’ve made meatballs for tea,” he said with a smile, “Did you have fun today?”
Poppy smiled and told him all about the lake and the quarry. She mentioned Baggledorf and Grandpa just smiled. She was not completely sure he believed her.
Not long after their meatball supper, Poppy fell fast asleep. Fred curled up at the end of her bed and Grandpa snoozed by the fire.
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