Shrunk! by F. R. Hitchcock Page B

shout down the hole.
    Jacob looks up at me, mournfully. ‘I would if I could,’ he says. His little arms flap on either side, he’s powerless against her. I almost feel sorry for him.
    â€˜Here,’ calls Eric. ‘Take this.’ He pushes something through the rafters. ‘I’ll come round to the front of the house.’
    â€˜Is that my fairy bedspread you’re destroying, Tom?’ Tilly’s voice floats up.
    I sling the bedspread over the penguin and the planet. Four ropes hang down from the corners. Jupiter drops slightly, as if the weight of the blanket is just enough to stop it flying away. I throw the ropes over the front of the house.
    Phew.
    CRACK.
    As if someone’s just pumped it full of fresh helium, the planet bounces back up at me.
    NO!
    I press both my hands into Tilly’s fairy bedspread, and they sink into the surface. It feels utterly strange, like a vast lump of frozen candyfloss. Swelling, frozen candyfloss.
    â€˜Hurry up!’ I shout.
    There’s shouting and banging and screams from Tilly and doors slamming below and then Eric yells up at me from the garden. ‘We’ve got a ladder – hang on!’
    The ropes stretch and the planet starts to slide neatly out of the attic and over the last few shattered tiles. It teeters on the edge of the roof.
    â€˜Woah!’ shouts Eric. ‘That’s big – that’s mega big.’
    He’s right. The planet’s grown massively in the last few minutes and is now about the size of a small hot air balloon. It’s pulling upwards like a hot air balloon too, but we don’t have any of those net things that they hang over balloons, or a handy basket or a licence to fly large round things over Devon.
    My arms ache from pushing it downwards, and the bedspread’s starting to crack from the cold.
    â€˜MOO!’
    Eric, Grandma and a random cow stare up at me. Eric and Grandma hang on to the ropes, but Grandma’s feet have already left the ground.
    There’s shouting, and a squeal from Tilly, and Jacob rushes out into the garden, the torn babygro flapping around his feet. He grabs the end of another rope and immediately his feet bounce over the miniature war memorial.
    We need more help or more weight.
    Mum and Dad?
    But Mum’s stuck in the disappearing cabinet, and Dad’s crashing about trying to get her out.
    I look down. ‘Tilly!’
    Her face appears through the hole. ‘What!’
    â€˜Get a blanket from the sofa and hand it up to me, quick.’
    â€˜No. I’m tidying my bedroom.’
    â€˜Come on, Tilly, please.’
    â€˜What’s it worth?’
    â€˜Tilly!’ shouts Grandma from below. ‘Go and get the big quilt off my bed. Now!’
    â€˜Hey!’ shouts Jacob. ‘My feet are off the ground. I’m flying!’
    There’s an age of silence and then I hear thumping from the room below and Tilly opens her window. She’s got Grandma’s giant patchwork quilt. She won’t hurry; she’s sulking, I can tell from the way she moves. She’s gazing out at Jacob like he was the sweetie she lost.
    CRACK.
    The planet swells again, and my feet bounce on the roof.
    â€˜Tilly! Hand it up here.’
    â€˜No!’
    CRACK.
    â€˜Please.’
    â€˜I won’t. You’re silly,’ and she pulls her head back in and goes back into her room.
    â€˜Jacob!’ I shout at him. ‘Do something, please.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜She loves you. She thinks you’re a giant baby – do something.’
    â€˜You’ve got to be joking. Why would I do that?’
    â€˜Because you might just want to do the right thing. Because you might want to play a part in saving the planet?’
    There’s a long silence while we pant and tug and scrabble, trying to hold Jupiter in check.
    â€˜Because that would make me a nicer person?’
    â€˜It would.’
    I can practically hear his brain