appearance. Both are unkempt and chronically unshaven, and look like something that stepped out of Borneoâs jungle, but behind the frightening exteriors beat two hearts of gold.
And yet I would never personally venture to tease either Titmouse or Finn Flatfoot, just as I would never stick my head into a hive of bumblebees, because even the fluffiest exterior may conceal a sting that could have you howling with pain.Although Finø is a quiet place in the winter, members of the fishing community have nonetheless been known to take it into their heads to clear the Nincompoopâs cellar bar of all inventory, and in such cases Finn and Titmouse have been on the scene within minutes. I have witnessed them step forward to face twenty-five fishermen who have just trashed the place leaving only powder behind, and after a moment the fishermen have paid for the damage and offered their apologies and sloped off into the night with their tails between their legs.
So now, as ever, Iâm glad to see Finn Flatfoot, though Iâve no idea why he might be here, or why he and Tilte, and Titmouse and Basker, might be hiding in the bushes, and so I join them.
Finn gives me a pat on the back. His hand is like one of those spades they use for digging ditches.
âHave you seen them before?â he whispers.
âTheyâre from Big Hill,â Tilte whispers back.
âTheyâre older than the usual crowd,â Finn whispers again.
âOne said she was a bishop. And another said he was a professor,â Tilte whispers back again.
Finn watches intently.
âThe brain goes out when the weed goes in,â he says.
And now I see what the world looks like through Finn Flatfootâs eyes. Whereas before I saw four pillars of society on their way up a ladder on important business, I now see what Finn Flatfoot and Titmouse must see, which is four criminal substance abusers about their shadowy deeds in the darkness.I begin to pick out the awe-inspiring contours of Tilteâs strategy. My thoughts drift to our religious studies, from which we have learned that all the great spiritual figures point out that to a very great extent the world is made of words.
âShouldnât they be stopped?â Tilte whispers.
Finn shakes his head.
âWeâre waiting for two things. Firstly, for them to break open a window. That makes it burglary and caught red-handed, section 276. And secondly, weâre waiting for John, because Iâve just called him. This lot are the violent sort.â
John the Savior is with us a moment later, like a shadow in the night, but a shadow of the kind cast by a brewerâs dray, because thatâs about the size he is. Ordinarily, heâs in charge of Finøâs rescue services, which is to say the lifeboats and the fire station and the ambulance service, as well as the Finø Security Corps, and if I were to describe him in brief I would say he was a friend of the family and a man you would want by your side in any situation other than the Annual Spring Ball for the benefit of Finø FC, because no one has ever seen him wear anything other than overalls and ambulance-colored safety boots size 52 with steel toe caps.
Meanwhile, Professor Thorlacius has managed to open Tilteâs window and has half his corpus inside her room, thereby now technically guilty of breaking and entering, even though Tilte and I know that her window is only ever pulled to and never locked. Now Finn Flatfoot and John the Savior and Titmouse step forward out of the bushes and give the ladder a gentle shake.
Whoever has stood on a ladder with someone shaking it from below will know that keeping a cool head in that situation requires at the very least an ice pack, something that is on hand only rarely whenever youâre up a ladder. The four individuals on this one roar in unison. And Vera the Secretary is the first to come tumbling down.
Iâm not sure how a bishopâs secretary is
And yet I would never personally venture to tease either Titmouse or Finn Flatfoot, just as I would never stick my head into a hive of bumblebees, because even the fluffiest exterior may conceal a sting that could have you howling with pain.Although Finø is a quiet place in the winter, members of the fishing community have nonetheless been known to take it into their heads to clear the Nincompoopâs cellar bar of all inventory, and in such cases Finn and Titmouse have been on the scene within minutes. I have witnessed them step forward to face twenty-five fishermen who have just trashed the place leaving only powder behind, and after a moment the fishermen have paid for the damage and offered their apologies and sloped off into the night with their tails between their legs.
So now, as ever, Iâm glad to see Finn Flatfoot, though Iâve no idea why he might be here, or why he and Tilte, and Titmouse and Basker, might be hiding in the bushes, and so I join them.
Finn gives me a pat on the back. His hand is like one of those spades they use for digging ditches.
âHave you seen them before?â he whispers.
âTheyâre from Big Hill,â Tilte whispers back.
âTheyâre older than the usual crowd,â Finn whispers again.
âOne said she was a bishop. And another said he was a professor,â Tilte whispers back again.
Finn watches intently.
âThe brain goes out when the weed goes in,â he says.
And now I see what the world looks like through Finn Flatfootâs eyes. Whereas before I saw four pillars of society on their way up a ladder on important business, I now see what Finn Flatfoot and Titmouse must see, which is four criminal substance abusers about their shadowy deeds in the darkness.I begin to pick out the awe-inspiring contours of Tilteâs strategy. My thoughts drift to our religious studies, from which we have learned that all the great spiritual figures point out that to a very great extent the world is made of words.
âShouldnât they be stopped?â Tilte whispers.
Finn shakes his head.
âWeâre waiting for two things. Firstly, for them to break open a window. That makes it burglary and caught red-handed, section 276. And secondly, weâre waiting for John, because Iâve just called him. This lot are the violent sort.â
John the Savior is with us a moment later, like a shadow in the night, but a shadow of the kind cast by a brewerâs dray, because thatâs about the size he is. Ordinarily, heâs in charge of Finøâs rescue services, which is to say the lifeboats and the fire station and the ambulance service, as well as the Finø Security Corps, and if I were to describe him in brief I would say he was a friend of the family and a man you would want by your side in any situation other than the Annual Spring Ball for the benefit of Finø FC, because no one has ever seen him wear anything other than overalls and ambulance-colored safety boots size 52 with steel toe caps.
Meanwhile, Professor Thorlacius has managed to open Tilteâs window and has half his corpus inside her room, thereby now technically guilty of breaking and entering, even though Tilte and I know that her window is only ever pulled to and never locked. Now Finn Flatfoot and John the Savior and Titmouse step forward out of the bushes and give the ladder a gentle shake.
Whoever has stood on a ladder with someone shaking it from below will know that keeping a cool head in that situation requires at the very least an ice pack, something that is on hand only rarely whenever youâre up a ladder. The four individuals on this one roar in unison. And Vera the Secretary is the first to come tumbling down.
Iâm not sure how a bishopâs secretary is
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