Don't Disturb

Page 2


Illustrated by Neal Stepp

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"Mum. Mummy. MUMMY!"

"Wh . . . wh . . . where am I? Max is that you? Not again!"

"There's a man at the door - an insurance man."

"What's he here for today? He normally comes on Saturdays."

"But it is Saturday!"

"Go into the bureau and get the envelope marked 'INSURANCE'. Then Max, do not, I repeat, do not disturb me again. Not even if the Queen of England herself comes calling do I want to be disturbed. Get it?"

Mr. Rodgers was a short, balding man with chubby hands. He opened the envelope, counted the money, signed a piece of paper and left with a nod. Max closed the door gently. Then he settled down to his puzzle once more. As more and more pieces joined up, a picture started to appear. First the flank of a dappled grey horse, then a black cowboy hat, with some cacti in the background.

"Hey. It's the Lone Ranger. Put the money in a bag and let's get out of here!"

"Quick. Ride faster! He's gaining on us."

"The Lone Ranger to the rescue: do-do-do-do-do-do"

"Bang-bang. He got me Charlie. He got me through the heart. Tell my wife I love her, will ya, Charlie? Will ya?

"Poor Shane. Come on girl, faster, faster! Bang-bang. Oh, that hurt. I'm a goner!"

"The Lone Ranger. Stamping out crime in the Wild, Wild West: do-do-do-do-do-do!

This puzzle was difficult. Too much sky! Max decided to go back to his drawing. This time, he drew a huge fun-fair, with monstrous Big Wheels and the scariest looking Ghost Train in the universe. There were children eating Cotton Candy the size of hot-air balloons, and Bumper Cars as big as trucks. Just then, Max thought he heard something. He listened carefully. Another knock at the door, only this time, it was as if a mouse were knocking. Who was it? Couldn't a boy finish a picture without being disturbed, thought Max?

"Who is it?" whispered Max through the hinge.

"It's Elizabeth," said a voice.

"Elizabeth who? Do I know you?"

"Elizabeth Windsor and you may know me if you see me. May I come in?"

"But mum's sleeping and she told me not to disturb her, not even if the . . .

"Have you ever looked at a ten-penny piece, dear, or a five-penny piece at that?

"Lots of times, but . . ."

"Well, open the door a smidgen, dear and you may see someone familiar."

Max opened the door a tiny bit and peeked out. He knew immediately who the woman standing before him was. Max froze to the spot.

"May I come in, dear chap? My feet are killing me and I badly need a cup of tea."

On command, Max opened the door and watched amazed as the Queen of England, framed by two giant beef-cake men with walkie talkies and scowly faces, stepped into his flat.

"Si-si-si-sit there. It's our best chair."

"Thank you, dear boy," said the Queen, heading for the sofa. For the next few minutes, the Queen sat rubbing her feet while Max stood rubbing his eyes. He eventually found his voice.

"I'm sorry about the mess, but mum's sleeping and she told me . . ." He hastily picked up some of the things he had dumped off the coffee table.

"Never mind. I must apologize for coming unannounced, but I was opening a new hospital nearby and I thought, since I'm in the neighborhood, I'll just pop in and see that nice young chap. I do hope you don't mind. Come, sit here and tell me all about yourself."

"But what do I call you?"

"Well, Your Majesty is a touch stuffy for now, so let's settle on Liz."

"Do I have to say Queen in front of that or just, you know, Liz?"

"Liz is fine. Now come and tell me about yourself. If you'll bear with me, I'll just rest my eyes a bit while you do so." Max sat down stiffly next to Liz, and started talking, uncomfortably at first. The Queen listened and nodded and laughed and asked him some more questions and before he knew it, Max felt right at home with the Queen of England sitting on the sofa (for she had poo poo'ed their best chair and flopped onto the sofa first). Meanwhile, the two beef-cake body guards stood by the door like giant, plastic dolls.

"Can I make you something?" said Max, forgetting his manners and knowing what his mum would say if she were there.

"A cup of tea sounds splendid," said Liz. Max moved smartly into the kitchen. But oh, he'd forgotten. His mother didn't let him use the kettle. How could he boil water? Then he had an idea. He took the damp tea bag off the drainer and popped it into a cup. Then he let the hot tap run until the water was good and steamy. Carefully, he filled the cup. As he moved the teabag around, the water became tea-colored. Milk and sugar, thought Max. That will do the trick. That done, he delved around in the biscuit tin for an unbroken biscuit to put on the saucer. He'd seen his Mum do that for other visitors.

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