Squiggle by B.B. Wurge

Author:B.B. Wurge
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Leapfrog Press
Published: 2013-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

14

Squiggle lived with the Sponges for a week. She had a wonderful time. All the Sponges were nice to her. They seemed to like her, and although that may sound ordinary to you, it was new to Squiggle. Nobody had ever liked her before. When they set the table for dinner, they always put out a plate full of delicious plastic leaves for Squiggle. She got to sit on the tabletop because she was so small. After dinner, when they sat around the family room in the evening, reading or talking (or arguing), they always gave Squiggle a chair with lots of pillows on it and included her in their conversations, and were polite enough to be quiet while they listened to what she had to say. She was so surprised at being treated in this way that very soon she began to love the Sponges.

They had a TV but Squiggle never watched it. She had too many other things to do. In the morning, after breakfast, she would gallop downstairs to Dr. Sponge’s big study in the basement. While he worked at his desk, planning out the voyage, Squiggle would look at the maps pinned up on the walls or read through books on strange foreign animals. The room was full of exotic books with titles like, The Mobility of the Hippopotamus Ear, The Feeding Habits of the Carnivorous Squang Doodle, and Is the Pterodactyl Really Extinct? Now that Squiggle was an exotic animal herself, she liked to read about other strange animals and their habits.

Dr. Sponge was always writing lists of the things he wanted to bring, like rope nets, and malaria medicine, and an extra pair of underpants, and a supply of chocolate. He would scribble more and more quickly, while his red beard and hair bounced and shook violently, and then suddenly he would jump to his feet, wave his stubby arms, and shout, “Squig, think of the fun we’ll have! Ha! Don’t tell the old lady. She thinks you’re staying here with her. But of course you’ll come with me on the voyage!”

Mrs. Sponge was an accountant for a brick-making company. She knew all about numbers and didn’t like anything messy or disorganized. Maybe that was why she clipped and combed her whiskers so carefully every morning. She was a very kind person though, as you could tell by the expression in her eyes. One day she took Squiggle in a canvas handbag to the Squagg’s house.

“I’m sure,” Mrs. Sponge said, “if I explain to them exactly what happened, they’ll understand.”

Squiggle crouched in the bottom of the bag. Would her parents ever believe that their daughter had been turned into a monkey? And even if they did believe it, would they want her back? Maybe they would scream and throw things at her again? Her little synthetic monkey stomach began to twist and turn in anxiety.

When they got to the Squagg’s house, they found a sign posted in the front yard that said “For Sale.

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